He Lives in My Shoulders

I began Yoga. I began again after years of healing from back surgery and the injuries incurred from my attack. I didn't think I would be able to do much. It has been years of being frozen. Both inside and outside of my body. The attack left me with physical injuries I will never shake. It left me with memories and flashes I never would wish on anyone. The worst of this, is that it comes to me when I try to take care of myself. Move my broken body. Melt away the frozen ice caps of flesh and try to heal from the inside out.

This morning, ironically enough in warrior II , he came creeping into my practice. He banged and pulled and beat on me, just had he had years ago. The fear and sadness flooded into me. I became overwhelmed and had a flash in my mind to run. But I didn't.

Years ago, I read that emotion lives in your body. That you hold fear, sadness, trauma, in your muscles, cells, and bones. I used to roll my eyes at these types of things. But I can feel him clearly in me- he lives in my shoulders. I can feel him dance around my cracked bones and tendons. Just as he had before. I can feel him pulling on my still- my heart, my hair, the me inside of me that speaks softly still.

This happened two years ago. Sometimes that feels very far away. Sometimes it feels like it never happened, or at least, that it didn't happen to me. Sometimes it feels like I am over it. That I have moved beyond it (as best as one can). That I have begun to take care for myself and heal and focus on getting well. And it is then in these moments that he comes back and reminds me that he still haunts me, still hurts me, still lives- apparently- in my shoulders.

365 x 2 + 1

Two years ago I was here. I lay right there in that spot. Beaten and assaulted by someone I never saw before. And never saw again since. I became someone else after that. Someone I am still trying to figure out.

Still, sometimes, I flash back. Flash back to the me I was before all of this. She was happy- getting somewhere- following a plan of some kind. The me of that night. She finally had some fun that night after years of pain, back surgery, and giving up her first pregnancy. The me of the attack. Screaming fighting clawing. The aftermath. The fear the anxiety the sleepless nights of smoking. The imprints his heels left on my thighs.

But now, it is two years later. And I am here. A place I dreamt of in my secret moments. A place that I felt would save me if I ever got there. And now I am here. Possibly closer to the person I dreamt of being and the man I always wanted to be with. That is of course, if I don't blow it by being me. The me that gets in my way. The way I snap. The way my emotions turn to sour milk. The way I become a stranger to myself- a stranger I don't care to know. Someone who is needy and wanting and clingy. Someone who pushes him away by pulling him too close. I got to work on that. 

I have spent the past two years coming out of a prison beaten into me by a stranger. A stranger who wanted nothing more than to rape and hurt me. A man who tore me up from the inside out. I have spent the past two years trying very hard to become some type of normal. To try to love myself in spite of myself, since that would be the only way for you to find then love me. I try very hard at all this. It at times can be quite exhausting, terrifying, freeing. Something.

Another year has gone by. And I find myself here. Here in this place. Here waiting for me, trying to find the me in me. Still waiting. Waiting for me-us. Me and You. Something.

Antsy

I am beginning to climb the walls. I'm bored but busy. I'm interested and not interested all at once. I'm excited and furious in this moment. I'm getting all and nothing that I want. I'm love and hate combined.

I just want it to come together in an easy way- no drama. No problems. Just easy. And damn it- that just isn't happening. I don't want to be understanding. I don't want to understand anything but things falling in place- right now. I want to be the priority, especially when I ask for so little.

And my anniversary is coming up too- did I mention that? Next week it will be two years since it happened. Two years ago I was alright. I was in school. I was living where I wanted to be (at the time). I was back together with a man I wanted to be with. I was just starting to recover from surgery. I thought I got my life back- but really, it was all taken away. After the attack- I lost her. My old self.

And now, now I am someone else. 

Now I am someone who doesn't play around. Someone who knows her worth. Who won't put up with second best. My attacker beat my old life out of me. Which, I chose to look at in a positive light- even though I would prefer to have learned my lessons another way.

Still, they are learned. I learned to expect more, and deal with less. I learned I am strong and worth wanting. I learned that I am rare. I learned that I still have some fight in me yet. I learned that I know what I want and how I want it. Now, I just have to figure out how to say it out loud and make it known that I need to hear these things - out loud- from you.

Come Out Come Out- Wherever You Are.

Hello from one of the most beautiful places on earth. Although- lately- it hasn't been beautiful. It has been cold and rainy and leaving me with great unease and anxiety. Or maybe I bring those things here. Which may mean I am ruining paradise. I may have to think on that one.

Life as of late has been chaotic to say the least. I have moved Home. A place I have dreamt of for as long as I can remember. A place I have never had before. I have lived places, slept places, have addresses, but never had anywhere feel close to where I should be. Home for me has been a place of terrible fear. Nail biting. A place of secrets. Lies. Pain. Pain that stings long after the belt. Pain that still swirls in my heart and makes my back clench. Pain that feels as strong now in this moment, just as it did when I had baby curls and a bedtime.

This has always been hard to explain. I guess I cover my scars well. I can paint over myself to look just right. To look beautiful. To look normal. I have been able to erase my history- on a skin level anyway. But the more I try to settle into my new home, the more unpacking I do emotionally. To say I am uncovering a whole new level of loss is to say the least. The more I unpack, the more I learn all that I do not have. All that I never had. All that was taken from me, robbed from me, and stolen. All that I needed. All that I still need now. And all that I have  wanted for what seems like my lifetime.

I find my patience getting shorter- for others, and most likely myself too. I pride myself on being a caring human being. Being someone to be trusted, relied on. A safe person to turn to- no matter the time. No matter anything at all. As I unpack and settle- I feel unsettled. I unpack alone yet again. Without any help. Without anyone. And this constant is driving me mad constantly. My tolerance for this is at an all time low. I now say things out loud to myself, to the Universe, to anyone who will listen, really. I could really use some help here- from someone able to do it. From someone who wants to do it. For someone who wants to do this with me.

Now, I know I may not be the easiest person. But I try very hard to not let my past screw up my present and future. I know there are others that are be easier, younger, prettier, simpler, what have you. I know I can be a lot to handle sometimes. But I still think I am someone worth wanting. Someone worth saying things out loud to. Someone who wants to be here- not just in space and time. But here in my heart. Here in my life. 

I'm not afraid like I used to be. I used to be locked in a room. Beaten bloody and ruined. I used to be in a room bruised and battered and left alone. I used to be in a room staring at the cracks in my door from the bashing. I used to be in a room shaking and shattered. I used to be in a room buried in a corner rocking myself to be calm. I would watch my hands shake and feeling them freezing cold terrified to leave. I would feel this freeze on my fingertips and feel nothing else. Feel no heart beat. Feel no life. Feel no emotion. Feel nothing but the freezing digit pulse. This was my life for many years.

I would be in a hot bath stung failing at catching my breath and crying. I used to be in a room on the floor wondering if this is what it felt like to die. For my body to feel my soul leave it. For my heart to be so broken that I wished they had killed me, because at least then it would be over. I'm not afraid like I used to be. But I remember.

I say things out loud now- say them with complete fragility and wavering voice. To say things out loud isn't easy for me. But I have to say it. To have been locked away for so long, it makes me need to say things out loud. I just have to do it. But every time I get no response, every time I get dead air, every time I get nothing in return, I feel what I did before. I remember. 

Still, I have to do it. I have to take this life of mine and match it to the beauty around me. Take something for myself. Make myself into something. 

I didn't think that this move would unleash all that I thought was settled. Make me remember things I spent thousands of dollars killing with drugs and therapy. I didn't know it would all come rushing back to me. I didn't think it was still following me, still a part of me, something to be settled again. Vulnerability is a mother fucker. Seeing how others see me can be just as tricky. Seeing my life through the eyes of another can be beautiful. And it is this beauty that keeps me talking, keeps me praying, keeps me saying things out loud. Keeps me telling myself to settle again. Keeps me.

 

(Photo by http://thomas-rant.blogspot.com/)

Dear Universe.......

I am not sure if it is right or proper to ask for things, but I do think it is alright to put things up to you for consideration. These are the things I need help with and would very much appreciate you helping me out with them. Just to be clear, dear Universe, please hurry in earth time- because I am just about at the end of my rope..... And, thank you my dear, dear Universe.

Please let me land a new job very soon where I am moving to soon. I'm antsy and could really use a great position that pays me to live and pays my soul.

Please bring me some love. Romantic love that is true and mine. 

Please bring me a sense of ease, this tension and anxiety has got me in knots. Please Universe, please make it easier and take it easy on me.

Please bring me a new set of friends quickly when I move. Friends that will take care of me and care for me, please.

Please bring me happiness that lasts more than a matter of days. Real happiness- long lasting.

I know that this may seem all about me- but really- it isn't. I would love to be good in the lives of others and promise to be so. But please, please dear Universe. I need some help now. I need you to be here with me and for me. Please dear Universe, please hurry my dear.

Slide

Dear Universe,

I have chosen to believe in you. I have chosen that my being comfortable with being uncomfortable is not the way to go. I've decided to have some faith, to Dream. Mondo Dream. Some days it is easy, some days it is very frightening.

Yes... I think my life is better off without going into an office everyday where people scheme to hurt me. I think it is better for me not to be lied about and betrayed. Yep... better. But still scary to be floating out here, not knowing where I will land. I feel like a bubble.

Yet still, I have had a word floating in my mind today. Something from Fight Club, believe it or not. I hear My Power Animal. I hear over and over again.... Slide. It scares me to slide.

My life has been a practice of power and control, a practice in trying to achieve balance. Which makes Sliding, well, tricky. But in this fear, in this moment of anxiety- I have to LET GO.

Believe. Dream. Slide.

Gut Check

Ever since this happened this week, my mind has been a spin. My original reaction to the whole thing was goodbye to you- just to get out of it and avoid all drama. Just run. Run away that is. I felt a lot of loyalty to a person I do not know, putting her happiness and security and life ahead of mine. I bowed out. Cried alone and lonely, missing something I never had. Something and someone that was and is hers.

And now I just don't know. Here's why.... I have a theory. Do you remember the movie 'Can't Hardly Wait'? I know- random... But my theory is everyone in your life is someone in that movie. Me? I'm her. No, I am not a stripper. I'm someone with the random teen crushes and someone who believes very deeply in what she says: Fate. There is fate. But it only takes you so far, because once you're there, it's up to you to make it happen. 

And now we are here.  Is this my fate? Is it right in front of me? Is this love? Or, is this just drama and trouble? Is this just an illusion?

 I just don't know anymore. I want to know if he meant what he said. Or if he was just living some fantasy. I need to know what to do with this. And I just don't know the answer. Do I go after it, or respect the situation..... Anyone?

Glass Half Full.

For the most part of 2010 has really been a bitch. A fucking bitch at that. In this year alone....
I had back surgery
Broke up with my boyfriend..... twice
Had to give up a pregnancy
Struggle with money in a very real and major way
Got attacked and sexually assualted
That resulted post traumatic stress and anxiety
Which sent me to therapy.

In therapy.....
I told my therapist that I had really thought 2010 would be my year. I really hoped 2010 would be life changing- in a positive way. She looked a little sad. I told her- well- the year isn't over yet.

In 2010, I certaintly found my strength. Most people don't ever have to deal with the things I have, let alone all of them within 5 months. But in that time, I kept on going. I got my second Masters degree and found an amazing new job.

This job has made my days better. It has made me feel like me again. And I love that. So yes, 2010 has been a real bitch. But she also got me here- now. And I was right- this has been my year. It has been the year that showed me I can live through just about anything, and lived through it coming out stronger than I began. Even through the sheer hell of 2010, I managed to find some success, some achievement, some of me again.

After The Darkness

It was hard to take my attack and see the positive in it. There was nothing positive about being assaulted and nothing positive from the head injury, the post traumatic stress, or the anxiety. The incident will never be a positive one.

What happened thereafter, however, has turned out to be.  Months of counseling and personal searching has lead me here. It has lead me to a place where I am really impressed with myself. I know it is out of fashion to ring one's bell, but damn it- this bell should ring. 

Directly after the attack, I returned to work and school- three days after. I went in with my arm in a sling and my head swirling, but I went. After the attack I managed to complete my second masters degree, complete a counseling internship, continue to work in the justice system (not easy to help offenders once you are a crime victim), and get the job a wanted- a mighty big job at that. 

After the attack I  went back to dating. Which is huge. Even in the middle of living life after a sexual assault, I was not closed off to the notion of love entering my life. In fact, I seek it out still daily.

I've never lost my friendships, in fact I gained and strengthened them. After the attack I found  dichotomy of people in my life. One side that loved and supported me, the other that dropped the ball and dropped out of my life. I will always be grateful for those who stuck with it and stuck by me. And it may sound odd, but I may be more grateful to the ones that did not. This group of people showed me that not everyone in my life should be there. And, if they don't value me, they can keep on moving.

Which brings me back to dating....

I've been out with someone a few times now. He's cute, we laugh a lot, and enjoy our time together. But it always seems to be me that does the asking, the getting in touch... the work. And that well, does not work for me. Now, he doesn't know my life story, he doesn't know what happened this summer- but that really doesn't matter. If he doesn't see that I am amazing, then he really isn't worth my time. I have learned that from this other group of people. I can take it negatively and personally, but in the end that just isn't true. What is true is that I am stellar- and if that sounds egotistical- then fine. But I am. I don't think enough people think that way.

Believe me- it is difficult. This addiction to unavailable men is harder to quit than cigarettes. But I am working on it.
   

 

Hired.

I found out today that I got the job I want. Now I have a few weeks to just relax and get myself together. I should be happy. But this fucking anxiety won't break off.

I think about past failures and past boys and all of the terrible things that have happened to me and it is hard to accept that good things can happen. And that they can happen to me.

I'm trying.