Some random things I learned about myself last night…

I cry easily, I didn’t used to be a crier but somewhere along the line, over the course of the last few months, I’ve become a crier.

I need my big brother to beat up the bullies for me sometimes.

I have the amazing ability to turn ordinary toaster waffles into hockey pucks…that’s right folks, I even mess up toaster waffles.

I’d rather spend the evening hanging out with my 11-year-old watching Disney movies than just about anything else I can think of.

I can do a Kung Fu single legged stance.

I have good girlfriends.

Contrary to what I’d thought previously, the phone isn’t too heavy to pick up when I want to push the self destruct button.

God has my back, when I was really hurting yesterday, the first thought that popped into my head was to lean on my AA sisters. At first I thought I should get props for that but that’s all JC because left to my own devices, I head straight for one of Dante’s circles of Hell in a manner and at a speed that can break the laws of physics, as well as several state and federal statutes, I’m sure.

I have the entire script of the movie Drop Dead Gorgeous memorized.

I have a tendency to workout at my problems.

I can speak my truth.

I can actually feel my heart hardening…it’s feels a little like heartburn with some nausea mixed in case you were wondering.

I still remember how to add fractions with different denominators…take that 7th grade math.

I’m glad I’m alive.

Superman, AC/DC, little girls and Kryptonite...

I Think About You -Don Schlitz and Steve Seskin Everytime I see a woman on a billboard sign I think about you Saying "drink this beer and you'll be mine" I think about you When an actress on a movie screen Plays Lolita in some old man's dreams It doesn't matter who she is I think about you When I see a pretty woman walking down the street I think about you Men look her up and down like she's some kind of treat I think about you She wouldn't dare talk to a stranger always has to be aware of the danger it doesn't matter who she is I think about You eight years old big blue eyes and a heart of gold when I look at this world, I think about You and I can't help but see that every woman used to be Somebody's little girl, I think about you Everytime I hear people say it's never gonna change I think about you Like it's some kind fo joke, some kind of game I think about you When I see a woman on the news who didn't ask to be abandoned or abused it doesn't matter who she is I think about You eight years old big blue eyes and a heart of gold when I look at this world, I think about You and I can't help but see that every woman used to be Somebody's little girl, I think about you When I look at this world I think about you

So this is how my day is going so far…I’ve spent most of it in tears, with my office door closed. At times, I’ve considered crawling under my desk, yes, it’s going that well today. I had a restless night of sleep last night and sleep deprivation is my kryptonite (sidebar…when kryptonite didn’t come up as a misspelled word, I looked it up on dictionary.com and this is the definition they have…”any surviving fragment of the exploded mythological planet Krypton, home of Superman.” Please find that as entertaining and ridiculous as I do…). Like most other folks in the Twin Cities, I could blame this poor night’s sleep on the 65+ mph winds that shook us all night long (see what I mean about kryptonite, somehow I went AC/DC there), but I won’t. My restless night was due to feelings of overwhelming helplessness. Now, when I say overwhelming, I’m not talking I’m-stressed-but-nothing-a-little-yoga can’t handle, I mean holy-shit-life-is-coming-at-me-at-the-speed-of-an-incoming-missile-and-there’s-no-cover.

I hesitate to even broach the subject of why I’m feeling so overwhelmed, but seeing as I’ve already admitted to seriously considering crawling under my desk today, what the hell. Here’s the deal, I just want to be left alone. I don’t mean I want to isolate, I mean I want men to just back the hell off. At the risk of sounding like that don’t-hate-me-because-I’m-beautiful shampoo commercial, I’m tired of being approached by men, wherever I go. I’m tired of getting messages on facebook (which isn’t a word according to spellcheck, someone better get on that because I’m pretty sure society is moving to the place where marriages and divorces will be considered official if announced on there, but again, I digress) from men I hardly know. I know the score, none of these guys really knows me, they know what they see, and for a woman who has been through what I’ve been through, to be viewed merely as a body…well, honestly, I don’t have the words to describe what it does to me. I’m not a personal challenge or a conquest, I’m a mother, I’m a daughter, I’m a sister, I’m a friend. I’m also a survivor of rape who has a hell of a time saying no. For months now, the running joke with my circle of friends is that I’ll accidently get married again because some guy will say “let’s get married” and I’ll say, with resignation “ok.”

I’m also a person going through a very painful divorce, a person who needs some space to breathe, a person who needs to learn about herself, a person who needs to be alone. Apparently, I’m also still a work in progress. I completed Rape Trauma Counseling earlier this month so I should be good, right? Wrong. When “I Think about You” came up on my iPod this morning, it literally brought me to my knees in such emotional pain that I could hardly breathe for a minute. I’m not Lolita for some old man, I’m not “some kind of treat,” I’m still my dad’s little girl, all women are. When I was 8 years old, I was stubborn and willful, and my dad’s little girl. I insisted on doing things my own way. When I was raped, I lost that sense of myself, I no longer knew what my way was. I’m starting to learn what that is again, but I need some time to figure that out and I can’t do that if I’m dating, or kind of dating, or “it’s just lunch”ing.

I need time, I need space, I need sleep and, in attempt to bring this full circle, sans AC/DC, I need my fortress of solitude…

Save second base...

The world ain't all sunshine and rainbows. It's a very mean and nasty place and I don't care how tough you are, it will beat you to your knees and keep you there permanently if you let it. You, me, or nobody is gonna hit as hard as life. But it ain't about how hard ya hit. It's about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward, how much you can take and keep moving forward. But ya gotta be willing to take the hits. -Rocky Balboa

So Monday I had, and failed, my first mammogram. I guess I should have studied. The irony that this news comes to me in October, Breast Cancer Awareness month, has not escaped me. So now what, I get to go to the breast center (which I'm pretty sure is not nearly as sexy as the name would suggest) for another mammogram and an ultrasound. As I've been waiting and worrying, it has occured to me that maybe this is God's way of putting my present circumstances into perspective for me. Yes, I am a survivor of rape. Yes, I was a virgin when I was raped. Yes, I destroyed my first marriage because I was in so much emotional pain over the trauma of my past that the only way I knew how to cope was to pull the pin on my self destruct grenade. Yes, I've spent so many years running away from that pain that all I was actually doing was helping it with its conditioning so when I did I finally stop running earlier this spring, I found a much stronger opponent than I was expecting. Yes, I'm alone and that scares the shit out of me most days. But I'm still alive, none of these "yes's" have taken me out of the game.

But breast cancer might. I'm trying not to get ahead of myself, the reality is that it's most likely nothing and I will be fine, but this has been a wake up call. Though I look at the above quote from Rocky Balboa multiple times, every day (it's next to my bed, on my bathroom mirror, above my sink, next to my desk, you get the picture) it has taken on new meaning for me this week. Nothing is going to ever hit me as hard as life. I've walked through hell and survived, no one in this life can throw anything at me as tough as that journey, but life itself might hit me hard enough to knock me to my knees and keep me there permenantly this time. I've also realized that if the news isn't what I want to hear, I am strong and I will fight. I'm willing to take the hit and keeping moving forward.

So here's where saving second base comes in. Because it is Breast Cancer Awareness month, there is an app on Facebook that allows you to post a bra on your page in honor of the cause. One of my friends did just that and a comment from another friend was "Save second base!!!!" That got me thinking that my greatest ally in every fight has been my sense of humor so while I wait this one out, I've decided to embrace that ally by putting that sentiment on a...wait for it...t-shirt. Save second base.

When you’re going through hell, keep going…

Last weekend sucked. Actually, most weekends suck these days. Those are the times when I’m alone and I’m not a fan of that right now. I tend to think too much anyway and if you give me a quiet apartment, I could make overthinking into something that could rival an Olympic event. This past weekend, had I been competing in the trials for said event, I would have totally nailed it, with not only a personal best, but a new world record, I’m sure.

Backing up a step, things actually started to go off the rails on Friday morning, when I went to workout and found the gym at my apartment complex completely trashed…a perfect set up for a PTSD episode that brought me literally and figuratively to my knees. I called Jim, because that’s what I do. While he was supportive as he talked me back to the safety of my apartment, the conversation ended with him saying that while he loved me and always would, I needed to stop depending on him. I get that, really I do, but it still hurt to hear. For the last 16 years, even though he has rarely known how to combat the demons that haunt me, his presence has given me a feeling of safety and security.

The next day, after an amazing AA meeting (sidebar, I owe my Saturday morning chicks big time. I will never be able to repay them for their wisdom and love) which primed the pump for crying jags that lasted throughout most of the rest of the day, Jim and I had the first heart to heart talk we’ve had in a long time. I won’t go into details, they are still too close to home that even now, as I’m thinking back on it, I can feel the tears creeping up, but it ended with his holding me while I cried. Through my tears, because, as anyone who knows me at all can attest to, I can’t remain serious for too long, I said “have you gotten taller?” because he seemed taller standing there, holding me in my living room. His response was “why, yes I have.” We both laughed as he wiped the tears off my cheeks. What I will say about that conversation is that I talked about being scared to go through this alone and he talked about how I was stronger than I realized.

There’s just something so heartbreakingly sad about this whole situation. It overwhelms me at times to the point where I feel like I can’t breathe. I love this man and he loves me and yet we can’t seem to work it out. Too much has happened, while I love him more than I can express, I don’t trust him and without trust, it just doesn’t work. As I’ve been wrestling with feelings of existential dread lately (remind me to tell you about my ill advised trip to the hair care isle at Target last week that culminated with me blonde for about 24 hours sometime) I’ve gotten love and support from wonderful friends. A woman who is particularly dear to my heart, mostly because I’m convinced we’re twins separated at birth, sent me this quote from Winston Churchill: When you’re going through hell, keep going. I’ve thought a lot about that the past few days. There was a time when I would have done anything to avoid the pain I’m feeling right now, and I did. I've tried to drink it away, I've tried to starve it away, I've tried to exercise it away, all to no avail. The difference now is, while the pain hasn’t diminished, I’ve grown stronger. With love, support, and the sometimes unscathing honesty of my friends I’ve grown strong enough to walk through this pain. There is no way around it, there is no way over it, there is no way under it, my only choice is to go through it. Avoiding it keeps me in it, moving through it will one day get me past it. So today, as I go through this hell, I'm going to keep going.