Believing

The only thing I can think to say today is: I am tired of secrets.

 I am done holding these things captive. These things that hurt me. Memories burned into my body. Haunting images that billow in like mist while I sleep. Strange experiences on and within my body that shame has kept quiet. Voices in my head that say such horrible things that I must shout at the top of my lungs in my car just to silence them. The only thing that helps these days is sitting among thousands of people singing so loudly to a band that plays their songs so fervently, in a room where the acoustics are so clear and the speakers are so close to my ears that even for only an hour and and fifteen minutes, I can finally hear nothing else. As an intelligent and capable woman, I am done feeling powerless over this. I am so over being limited by this. I am finished with the embarrassment. I will not be brainwashed into restraining myself anymore. I am exhausted and pissed off. I will learn to annihilate these patterns. Some day I will believe that I am worthy of all that is good in this world. I must believe that I deserve to have complete faith in myself and in those that mean the most to me. I deserve to believe. I deserve to believe. I can believe. I will believe.

Survival

For the past two weeks I've been thinking about something that was said in my last counseling session. It was such a fleeting moment, but the words resonate with me and I keep hearing them over and over again. It was a really powerful moment, and I think I really needed to hear it.

After reading aloud my proclamation of being a survivor and what I have survived two times I had a moment of clarity. For some reason I remembered a childhood moment of survival. She said something along the lines of, "If you were in here today as that little girl you know DCFS would have taken her." ... bam! I had grown up wishing and praying to be taken away. I couldn't tell you what triggered it, but I rode my bike two miles away to a payphone behind a dance studio. I called the child abuse hotline that I saw on a shopping cart at a local grocery store. I instantly memorized it when I saw it. 1-800-4-a-child. Terrified and desperate I called that number thinking it wouldn't go thru because I didn't have any money...but it did...someone answered! I started trembling and crying. The woman sounded so kind-I'll never forget it. But my voice failed. I had no idea what to say. Would they think I was just playing games making prank calls? That's what happened when I called 911 from under my bed...So I just hung up and rode my bike forever. It gives me chills just thinking about it....but I just let myself think about it and feel whatever comes up with that because I believe it's really important. It's strange to think that I might have been a foster child if only someone had recognized what was happening. If only I found the words that day...who knows what would have happened? My entire life would be different. I'm grateful for the life I have now, and I obviously can't imagine anything else...but I can't help but let my imagination wander a little bit.

Then I think about the stairs at the lake house. That is absolutely my most favorite place in the whole world. I used to lie down on one of the stairs because it fit my body so perfectly. From head to toe I would be able to completely fit on the single stair-my head in the corner and my feet against the post. I can't bring myself to take a picture of it. Lately, though, I keep picturing myself there... I.was.so.small. How could someone that small go through so much and fight like a bamf the whole time? I am so amazed with myself. It's a horrible reason, but seriously...look at what I survived and I was able to stay relatively healthy and take care of myself. Damn.

When I found this picture months ago I felt like I was pierced right through the heart. I resembled this little one when I was small. But I think I have to post it today...it just seems fitting.

Unbreakable reflections

Her spirit sparked and those eyes of hers ignited after a long wait lifelessly hanging on the ledge. So many exhausting years spent holding up that leaking dam only moments away from crumbling...desperately waiting for someone to help hold it all. But there was another way. A humble safety net was just behind her. It certainly will keep her afloat. All she had to do was...let go and turn around.

Her soul flew freely, finally released from the chains--the words, that bound her. Something so simple, a connected...shared witnessing of experience captured permanently in a photograph and I am free from those words forever. 

She used to close her eyes to memorize the pain...it was the only truth she knew. But now, when her eyes are closed, she reaches for the memory that made her feel strong.  One week ago, I stood in a park in the middle of the city holding a poster covered with painful words written by my trembling hand for a single photo... I am not ashamed of the fear I felt and the anonymity I wanted to keep. Even though my hands were shaking I wrote those words. My face was covered, but I stood confidently as the photo was taken.

http://projectunbreakable.tumblr.com/

Thanks for the inspiration, Jess ♥

Verbal vomit

It's no surprise that I've been struggling off and on the past few weeks. There are many things on my mind, but it's hard to wade through all of the bullshit my brain puts in the way. It's very disappointing because I've been doing so well lately. I've been upbeat, positive, optimistic, motivated, and strong. I can't help but feel that this is a set back.

One particular struggle I'm having is the constant fear and terror I feel just being home. I've set such firm boundaries with the abusers I still have contact with, that I'm anxiously anticipating their retaliation. I shouldn't have to live that way, but the fear is very strong and I immediately go into survival mode: walking around my car checking for people or damage, driving around the block before pulling into the parking lot, checking out the window before going outside, locking my car the minute I sit down. If I see any of the same model of car they have I feel the panic surge through my body. Every time my phone rings, an alert comes through for my email or there's a knock at the door or I can hear a car in the parking lot...I panic.

Another issue is tutor. I think I disgusted him as much as I disgust myself. Long story short, I confessed that I have clammy hands when I'm nervous when he tried to hold my hand. That date ended awkwardly (and the was also the day my dad showed up at my apartment uninvited at 10 pm). Then I was busy when he tried to contact me, then my phone died, then I contacted him explaining and no word from him. Several days later I reached out to see how he was doing. He tried to flirt with me via text message and I made an awkward joke about my clammy hands again (just teasing myself) and no response. I reached out one last time and he responded very curtly and did not continue the conversation. I'm disappointed. I'm confused as well. I don't know if this is my crazy train or what. it feels like he's completely lost interest. Yes we are both busy. Yes he's been very bad at communicating via technology. Last week he admitted he was stressed and exhausted (which lead to the flirting text message and my subsequent bad joke and no response) but the whole vibe is different. I feel like the crazy stalker girl who keeps texting despite the obvious disinterest and short responses. I have been honest and upfront without crossing my own boundaries or giving too much information. I have respected my own comfort and feelings and responded accordingly. I guess it is what it is. I'm not going to keep trying. "He's just not that into you." ...but this leads to crazy train of self-disgust, anger and hopelessness. No need to get into excruciating detail about how mean I've been to myself.

Next is the latest flashback/trauma memory issue. I remembered some new details about my survival tactics. The abuse memories are the same. However, I have been reacting to them more intensely. I have felt the pain again, the feelings of intense fear and confusion, and the sensations on my body parts....and felt the urge to clean myself...disinfect. That has only happened a handful of times. But I suppose it's cause for concern-rubbing alcohol is not supposed to be used for feminine hygiene, but that was all I could think of to do to clean myself when it happened. That's what I did whenever I was injured, though. But this could never be spoken of...ever! I can't stand those sensations. When it's the first thing I experience when I wake up in the morning, I'm in a weakened state to respond appropriately. The trouble is, however, that the disgust, shame, and self-deprecation linger. I internalize them. Then they pinball off of the other stresses I've described and others that I will not. They intensify and get out of control. Now please refer to my "Kryptonite" and "Next stop crazy town" posts, because that's what happens next. It becomes a vacuum and I get trapped within the cyclone.

All of this happens randomly, with or without my awareness, and the next thing I know hours have gone by. One last thing on the change to the "cycle"...It's very hard to explain, but I feel sideways? Like my body is one direction and my brain is another. For example I was sitting on the couch last night just enjoying the crazy train ride and it felt like my head was to my right, next to me. I felt a bit dizzy and really "out of it". That's how I've described it to my friends. Today my mind is slow (no I didn't have my usual coffee so that could be it...) but it's just odd. Different. I'm still trying to pay attention to my body, what my mind is doing, and trying to differentiate crazy train from reality. I have tried reaching out when I need to and taking care of myself when all other options were exhausted or failed. Hopefully I've processed through this enough and I can get a sound sleep, without nightmares tonight. Last night's dream was sick...too vulgar to post. All I'll say is my mom was watching something happen. Just gross... and that's where things begin. The dream, wake up with that feeling, shudder...then it lingers and everything follows.Then it bounces back and forth with every other issue I'm struggling with abuse related or otherwise, financial issues, job stress, friend stress, fear...

Sorry for the length of this post. I just needed to vent. Thanks for reading if you made it through.

Until next time,
SS

It's been a while

This is the song I've been listening to over and over again throughout this whole dating process. It brings me comfort and helps me dream about a happy and safe life...something I've only ever imagined and fantasized about.

And that fantasy is what keeps me going on this really uncomfortable and super awkward journey. Here is a glimpse into how it began...we'll see where it goes from here~

Awkward situation #1: We were introduced by my employer (one of them anyway). I have been working with and babysitting her adopted daughter for nearly 5 years. He's her summer math and keyboarding tutor. Employer confronts me and asks if I'm single. After some brief discussion, the glint in her eye grows as she tells me her daughter's tutor is coming in an hour and that her daughter needs to shower and change before he gets there. She tells me a bit about him and asks if I might be interested in him and to let her know when he leaves. I make polite inquiries and conversation. She encourages me to ask him when he arrives and she saunters off upstairs to shower and get ready herself. After the hour long tutor session is up, employer confronts him...asks him the same questions and requests to exchange both of our emails/phone numbers. On the spot...people aren't going to say no when they know the other person is in the other room. So that was unpleasant. Employer, however, was thrilled and immediately forwarded me his email address and strongly encourages me to contact him. So I do...

Awkward situation #2: He returns my email days later and leaves no room for conversation. He simply ends with "We should chat sometime." ...Uh...yeah....we should. The end. So I don't respond. Weird. Whatever, game over! The next week I'm working again. Low and behold there are post-it notes for me from employer saying Tutor comes again today. Cue text messages from employer..."Don't forget to ask Tutor how she did today." uncomfortable. He shows up and asks if I got his email. me-"Yes I did." him- "You didn't like it?" me-"I wasn't exactly sure what to say...she's all yours, here ya go!" I respond to his email while he's tutoring.... "Yes we should." Fast forward and tutor session is up and he sticks around looking at the books I ordered through the family on Amazon and he's text messaging me while I'm in the other room. me-"Welp, it's time for us to run our errands! We'll see you later! Bye!" .... He leaves and child says, "Do you think he likes you?" ughhh.... me- "I don't know? What makes you say that" her-"I don't know, I think he does...oooooo!" me-"Oh please, get in the car, we have errands to run." "I'm just saying..."

A couple of text message chats for the next two weeks or so. I go on vacation, he runs a half marathon. We decide to have our first date when he recovers...and that's enough for now. The awkward situations that followed will not have their full effect if I just quickly ramble through them.

So until next time...

Oye.
Still Secretly Surviving...

The Color of Melancholy

They say that the eyes are a window into a person's soul. When I look into my own eyes I see complication, I see restraint. Have you ever watched your eyes as they cry? There is mysterious beauty in their work. Watching my own eyes as I cry is cathartic in a very simple way. My chest pulls like the strings on a guitar with the deep breaths I force into my lungs. I hear a voice in my head narrating haunting poetry..."her eyes, the color of melancholy"...and I just nod in agreement. Gray. The color of the ocean beneath heavy clouds, moments before a storm.

Another trip around the sun

It seems that it's everyday now, that I put another piece of the puzzle into place. New memories emerge and connections are being made more often. Now the image of my pink bike with white and purple polka-dot banana seat makes sense. I couldn't sit down on it and had to ride home standing up after being sexually abused  by my neighbor while playing hide-and-seek-in-the-dark in his basement. Now I know why falling and splitting the beam in gymnastics practices hurt me so much more than the other gymnasts. I insisted on an icepack ...and would sit on it in a dark room on the couch icing myself...and would eventually fall asleep. That was my escape every time to fall asleep. My coaches and teammates thought I was such a baby...they would get so irritated with me. I had no idea how to communicate to anyone though...I lived my life believing I was "silly" "sensitive" a "cry-baby"...until I shut down...
Anyway, I've been working really hard in counseling the past few months too. It's amazing how quickly things start moving once I'm in the right place and I allow everything to flow from those dark places. I still resist a lot...and censor at times. There are somethings that I don't think I will ever be able to say out loud. But that's okay for now....I have made a lot of progress. Haha! I said it!

The real reason for this post is....tomorrow is my birthday. I've been working toward my own "Growth" in 2012 as a goal I've set for myself in place of a Resolution. In this upcoming odd-numbered year of my twenties, I think I want to focus on something else as well. I'm not really sure what. I have made so many wishes on my birthday each year. I think I've stopped making them, because...well, hoping for my future didn't seem to be worth it. But now, I'm willing to try again....



This song makes me cry every time I hear it. Not in sadness, though. There is so much hope within the words; so much love. Those are two things that I rarely experience. I think that's what I'll wish for...Hope and love in my life this year, and for all of my years to come.

Happy Birthday to me :)

~SS