It is just by chance that my journal entries match up to the actual date. This will not always be the case, but it seems silly to not post it just because it is right now. I should also let you know that these entries are not edited, though I sure would like to rewrite a lot of it. It’s what I was thinking and feeling at the time, so changing anything doesn’t seem quite right. Just keep in mind that it was a severely traumatized person who was writing this and I was doing my best to make sense of what had happened and what I was going through. I so clearly did not ‘get it’ at the time.
2 November 2011
I went and joined the gym at the hospital again. My intention was to join Hollywood Fitness, and Bill and I even went in last night so he could see it. The deal, according to the paper, was $1 to join and $29/month for just gym use or $49 w/gym and all classes. Sounded good. Well, it turned out to be a bit of a scam. They wanted first and last month and an automatic credit card withdrawal, and the guy was just so jerky. I had to leave, so I did. Laura had walked uptown with me and she had to run out after me. I felt compelled to get away; I just couldn’t stay another minute. So back to the kind-of-boring, but reliable, hospital gym I will be going. And even though Bill and I are going to do yoga at the Cove tomorrow night, I’m still gonna go to the gym in the morning and re-acquaint myself with the stairmaster and weight machines.
After I walked down to the hospital and took care of my business there, I walked around Tidelands Park and under the bridge, up to the end of the golf course (but not on Gloiretta) and back. I would have walked further but I was wearing flipflops and my toes started to hurt. It has been made very clear that the loss of all the miles I logged every week walking is a huge loss to me. Since I am unable (at this time) to get myself out there to walk and one yoga class a week isn’t nearly enough exercise, it is still imperative that I get my butt in gear, however I can. As Susie said, I should look at it as a temporary solution while I rebuild my life.
The other thing that is abundantly clear is I have got to figure out a way to work in spite of my brain not working properly right now. I cannot and will not let someone else dictate my life. Yes, I am feeling out of control and, at times, like I am truly losing it. The reality is I’m not. It’s just my brain playing tricks on me. So I need to get a new intention and it is, as of 5:18p, 2 November 2011: 1. To get the jobs completed that are awaiting my talents; 2. To get more jobs; 3. To continue writing each day, so that I will have a complete record of the process and my feelings about the trauma I suffered; 4. To do more with my custom fabrics; 5. To start speaking about my experience to audiences; 6. To believe in the future again; 7. To live happily ever NOW!
As I was walking this afternoon, I was listening to Dr. Wayne Dyer’s “The Power of Intention.” It is so amazing how I ALWAYS hear exactly what I need to hear when I need to hear it. I really do have to start re-framing and stating what it is I intend, not all the negative I’ve been dwelling on. Yes, there is no doubt there is a lot of negative and I’m not sure how else to deal with it without talking so much about it. I also know, at some point, I’ve got to stop going over and over it. What you resist, persists. What you think about all day long is what manifests. Which means changing my self-talk, my inner dialogue. I know there must be a way to talk about it and still move past it, especially if I shift my work more towards this aspect. I forgot to write that intention on the list above, and, truly, this is a huge, life-changing intention for me. So here goes: It is my intention to transform the trauma I suffered in September (and in all my life) into a new project/business of writing and speaking. I have been wanting for so long now to change what I’m doing. Although it came about in a tragic way, the new avenue that my life can go down has been handed to me, if not quite on a silver platter, then on the cement outside the Hotel Del.
I do have homework for Monday’s therapy. I have to make a list of the top 10 worst and the top 10 best things in my life. [Here I am choosing not to include those 20 things at this time. I will come back to them at a later date.]
Laura is leaving tonight for London for a month. I’m taking her tot he airport at 6:30p. She’s leaving Hiccup with me for safekeeping. Ian is staying at her house while she is gone. She has been so ‘here’ for me during the last 5 weeks, that I’m sure I’ll miss her. I’m envious, I suppose. I wish, in a way, that it was me going away for a month. With Bill, of course.
And speaking of Bill, we went to dinner at The Tavern last night. It was good, but the menu is completely different from the tasting menu we sampled in July. Or August, whenever that was. And even though we hadn’t seen each other in a week, we did NOT have sex. The fact is that every time we do now, my eyes leak, and that, apparently, has him freaked out. Of course, it makes me feel even less desirable than I already feel. I guess I need to tell him this. All he really wants to do is fix everything and believe me, I wish he could. Unfortunately, he can’t really do much besides be there for me and encourage me. A lot of times, though, I feel like he thinks I’m not doing enough. What he, and everyone else for that matter, cannot possibly understand is the things I’m going through are a result of the attack/trauma I suffered and I can’t help what’s happening. There is a huge disconnect in my brain and my body and this I am unable to do anything about it right now. It’s all going to take time. It sucks, I know, I’m living it. It is truly a case of no one possibly being able to understand what I am going through unless they’ve been through it themselves. And a lot of people have all kinds of trauma happen all the time. I guess, though, that it manifests differently for everyone, while at the same time, it’s basically the same. I guess that doesn’t really make any sense. I think I’m trying to say is the attack and trauma I suffered was unique to me because it happened to me and my brain and body are processing it according to my experiences. So that means that NO ONE can really understand what I’m going through. The physical and psychological things are common to all those who suffer a traumatic event, but they are also all different. Round and round it goes…
All I can do is my best. Take each day one at a time.
Probably the other person that this has affected most is Bill. Maybe he should talk to someone as well. He doesn’t quite know what to do and neither does anyone else. No one that I personally know has ever had to deal with this. Or if they did, they aren’t talking. There is obviously a big part of me that can’t shut up about it. I want and maybe even need everyone to know. So until I feel like I’ve talked about it enough, I suppose I’ll go on telling my story to everyone I know and even those I don’t.