It is rare that my flashbacks are a visual retelling of events. Like my dreams my flashbacks and memories don't play like a movie of which I am an unwilling participant. In stead they are about the flashing memory of emotions at the time and immediately following of the events. Fear of the unknown. Fear of being hurt. Guilt. Shame. Sensation of being filthy both figuratively and literally. Sickening knowledge it must be kept a secret. Nausea and abdominal trouble will immediately ensue. All this happens out of the present. It is as though time stops. My psychiatrist thinks I might be dissociating because I for a few moments seem to lose track of what is happening. When I do become aware, I can taste bile in my mouth I am so disgusted - with myself as much as what had happened.