Tag Archives: assault and battery

PLEASE SIGN THIS PETITION

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While on Facebook just now I came upon this post:

“CNN: Apologize on air for sympathizing with the Steubenville rapists.” on Change.org.

It’s important. Will you sign it too? Here’s the link:

http://www.change.org/petitions/cnn-apologize-on-air-for-sympathizing-with-the-steubenville-rapists

I know I haven’t done a post in several weeks.  I was out-of-town and have just been dragging my feet.  In my journal entries, I am almost to the sentencing hearing and, at the time, I wasn’t writing much.  I also had to get a copy of the court transcript from that hearing and finally talked to the court reporter yesterday.  With any luck, I should have that in my hands by the end of the week.  When I tell the story of that fiasco, I want to be sure to have the exact words that were said by cockroach boy’s attorney.  It was unbelievable, as you will see.

PUSHING THE ENVELOPE

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Before I get to my journal entries, I wanted to tell you that I have been pushing the envelope of darkness, so to speak.  I am still (mostly) afraid of the dark, and going out into it to walk, unless I am walking with someone, is not possible.  Or is it?  Lately, as it gets lighter earlier, I have been going out before it is actually light.  Okay, only by a couple of minutes and only because I know the sun is coming up and it will only get lighter and lighter.  And when I walked at 4:30a the other day with my friend Mike, I was able to meet him part way down my block.  Of course, I watch out the window and can see him turn up my street.  Still, it feels like progress.  I also remind myself of my friend Erin, who was raped 30 years ago in an attack that was similar to mine, in that she passed him, spoke to him and then he grabbed her from behind, and she walks in the dark, sometimes alone, almost every day.  And then there are the odds.  I mean, really, what are the odds of it happening again?  As they say, lightening doesn’t (usually) strike twice in the same place.  I am still very cautious, though.  I expect that at some point I may be able to walk in the dark again.  But maybe not.  And maybe I’ll just continue to push it a little more each day, but never too much.

 

Back to the past and my journal entries:

Wednesday, 18 April 2012

Feeling rather crappy today and I’m not sure why.  There is no rhyme or reason to the ups and downs of my emotions.  I walked 6 miles and still feel bad.  I feel okay as I am actually walking and then when I stop, all the crap comes back full-force.  I just want the pain and awful feelings to stop.  Why are they being so difficult to release?

10:25a  Had my shower and cried the entire time.  I can’t believe how bad I am feeling.  I’m back in bed, hoping I can sleep and wake up feeling better.  The thoughts that keep running through my mind are disturbing, to say the least.  It’s like I am in a battle with a part of myself that is determined to make me give into it.  I feel like I cannot not tell anyone this, even Susie, but Monday when I was coming home from therapy, feeling really, really, really low, as I was coming across the bridge, I actually considered stopping, hell, I almost stopped and, well, at the very least would have caused the bridge to be shutdown.  As it turned out, Mike was 2 cars behind me, which I didn’t know until he came up right behind me at the light at Orange.  As far as I can remember, I’ve never come so close to doing something that I don’t think I really want to do.  I continue to fight that annoying part of me that just wants to leave, to check out.  I am trying so very hard not to give in.

11:20a And now I just feel like I’ve been beat.  The feeling of complete hopelessness goes away to be replaced by a feeling of overwhelming exhaustion.   All I can do is sleep.

 

Monday, 23 April 2012

“8:15a  It’s another marine-layery day.  How delightful.  Oh ,that’s right, not so much.  Like I need depressing weather when I am already in a depressed state of mind.

And the big question is – Am I being completely honest with Susie about how I am really feeling?  Not all of the time, but more than I think I should be.”                                               [ Note- I’m not sure what I was thinking when I wrote this.  And I wrote this prior to seeing Susie on this day.  At this point I had not told her what happened on the bridge.  I had not told anyone, including Bill.  And as a matter of fact, I did not tell him until some weeks later.  I was always afraid that if I was completely honest with Susie, she would have me committed to a mental hospital.  I did not write that afternoon when I got home from therapy.]

 

Tuesday, 24 April 2012

“5:30a  Had another very fast walk with Mike.  13 1/2 minute miles, which is pretty dang quick.  I’m planning on the 7:30a yoga class, so I am resting until it’s time to leave.

I am very hopeful that, once all of the stuff (SAMe, St. John’s Wort, and whatever that other pill I’ve been taking) is out of my system, Wellbutrin won’t be necessary.  I guess it’s a good thing that I told Susie what’s really going on with me since, it appears, the pills I was taking, at least the St. John’s Wort, was making me worse instead of better.  I just want to not feel like I do”.

 

So, the St. John’s Wort was making me suicidal.  I should clarify that.  It was making me even more suicidal.  Although I am not bipolar as my brother and my uncle are, it turns out I am in the bipolar spectrum and what that means is, just as there are certain drugs and/or supplements a person with bipolar disorder should never be given, someone who is in the bipolar spectrum has to be treated in the same way.   Had I not told my therapist what happened, there is no telling what I might have done.  As I said, I do not remember ever coming so close to doing something about my desire to leave this world.  It’s not like I ever had a plan or have ever thought much past the idea of not being here anymore.  This incident really scared me, and even though I did not tell Susie right away, I did tell her the next week.  She immediately knew it was what I was taking; something that was supposed to make me feel better, was making me so much worse.  I couldn’t just stop taking it, either.  I had to taper off of it.  Eventually, all of what I was taking got out of my system.  At that point, I was afraid to take anything.  My body has such weird reactions to medications and after this horrible episode, I didn’t trust anything.  In the end, I decided to go without any kind of medication.  Should I have tried a ‘real’ antidepressant?  Maybe, but I chose not to.  As I said in an earlier post, I thought that  I was not clinically depressed, but situationally depressed.  It was what I was going through and I felt like once I got through the therapy, I would be okay.  I was, however, open to it if Susie really thought I needed it.  I was lucky that I was being monitored and that I was finally honest with Susie.

IT GOT WORSE

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I think I’ve been putting off doing a new post because, first of all, I was getting ‘worse’ rather than better and, secondly, I wasn’t writing as much and there are far less journal entries.  The ones that are available are kind of hard to read, at least for me.   And I am now coming from a place of being completely healed from the attack.  At the time, though, I was so engrossed in my therapy that writing about it was the last thing I was capable of doing.  Of course, that was the very thing that would have been helpful, but as I’ve said many times already, my brain was not functioning properly.  I was doing the best I could from where I was.  So, several more entries…

 

1 February 2012

My neck pain is back with a vengeance.  After I came out of shock, the pain seemed to lessen.  At least  I could move my head again.  Now, though, it hurts as much as ever.  And yesterday I got a horrible headache, which still hurts this morning.  I thought it better not to go to the gym.

 

9 March 2012

I can feel myself slipping further and further over the edge.  It’s a terrible feeling and I’m not sure I can stop it.  I so want to isolate myself from EVERYONE, even, and especially, Bill.  Tomorrow is one year from the day we first met; not the date, which is the 12th, but the actual day.  We are going to Jimmy Buffett, which should make me happy.  I am hopeful that this weekend will not be a repeat of last weekend when I just felt bla.  I started taking 2 SAMe today because I still do not want to take a ‘real’ antidepressant.  Perhaps the higher dose will help.

Mother told me yesterday as we were hanging up that she loves me.  This seems to be what set me off this time.  I just want to feel whole and loved and that I matter and the simple truth is I just don’t.

 

15 March 2012

Once again court has been continued.  Cockroach’s bitch of an attorney still has not gotten his psyche evaluation done.  I wasn’t holding my breath that we’d actually be going to court on the 27th but I was hopeful.  Hopes dashed yet again.

 

20 March 2012

Kind of ironic — I feel better about what I went through in my past, the past I’ve been stuck in for the last couple of months in my therapy, and still, I’m not ‘me.’  I can’t seem to do what I’m supposed to do.  I finally got my new computer (have been without for over 6 weeks) and I still haven’t cleared off my desk so that I can set it up.  I feel stuck in some other pattern or something.  I want to work and I don’t, can’t.  I want to sew.  I want to be working on my new website/project.  I want to be working on my new yoga bags (and eventually, I’m sure, a yoga clothing line).  I want, I want, I want, and what do I do?  Nothing, nothing, nothing, and then some more nothing.  I seem to have lost my drive and determination.  I also ‘lost’ my stomach ache that I had for over a week.  It was caused from my therapy and the events of my childhood that I was revisiting.

What I did today: yoga class, walked with Laura, went to Pacific Beach to get frozen yogurt, then to AmVets on the way home.  Every day I wake up and think, “This’ll be the day,”  that I’ll finally be back on track.  So far, though, it hasn’t happened.  Oh, and today should have been the readiness/fitness hearing for cockroach boy.  Instead, Mary Loeb emailed me the new dates which are 24 May, fitness hearing and, assuming we move forward at that time, 31 May for the prelim.  I made sure the new dates would be when Bill was not in Mexico.

 

21 March 2012

I had a very nice marriage proposal this morning on my second walk.  It’s too bad I’m not into older men, and by older I mean 93 years old!  Still it was nice.

I don’t understand why I can feel almost good one minute and the next feel all the despair I’ve been working so hard to get rid of.  I suppose it’s the depression talking.  I so want to be motivated and the best I can seem to do is get back in bed.

 

22 March 2012

I realize that what I am is not clinically depressed, but situationally depressed.  Whatever you call it, it feels crappy.

 

As you can clearly see, I was more depressed than I realized and I was fighting to not go on an antidepressant.  I took Wellbutrin back in the mid-90s and, though it did what it was supposed to do, it was a horrible experience and I was trying to not repeat it.  At the time, too, although I was depressed and  knew I was depressed, I didn’t think I was really depressed.  Funny how the mind works.  I should also mention that since I am taking these entries directly from my journal and it is my journal, I don’t have to explain things because I know what they mean or who I may be referring to.  For the purpose of this website right now, my only intention is to get my story told.  After that is finished, I will be filling in the blanks and there are a lot of those to be filled.  If I filled them in as I went, this would take a few years to get through.

Another thing I realize that I never wrote about in my journal was back at the end of January or very beginning of February 2012 I decided to compete in a half-marathon.  Because I was, at the time, still having so much trouble forcing myself to walk, I knew that I had to train for something so that I would have to get out there.  I chose the Safari Park Half-Marathon because it benefited the tigers.  The date of the race was 6 May 2012.   So during all this not-being-able-to-do-much-of-anything-period, I was also meant to be training for a 13.1 mile race.  It’s funny (to me) that I never wrote about it, but that’s just another example of how my brain wasn’t working normally.

 

 

IT SURE TOOK A LONG

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From my journal, 12 January 2012…

“It is official – I have moved (FINALLY) from shock to anger.  And boy and I angry!!!!!!!!! I am so mad that it took me so long to get to this stage; that it happened to me at all; that I have felt pretty much nothing for the last 15 weeks; that we live in a society that would allow and produce people like cockroach boy; that I have been stuck on so many levels for so long; that all I did yesterday was cry; that I was unable to cry for the last 15 weeks; that we may have to go to court and have an actual trial; that his attorney will try to make this my fault (HA); that it is her job to do that to me; that I haven’t been able to walk for 15 weeks; that I got fat (okay, just a little pudgy, but I FEEL fat) because I was unable to walk; that I had to join the gym in order to be able to get any exercise; that I have been in extreme pain for at lest the last 10 weeks, maybe longer; that I am not supposed to talk about my experience because anything I say can be used against ME in a court of law; that I did nothing to incur this attack; that most people have no clue what I’ve been going through and will continue to go through for at least a little while longer; that I no longer trust people in general; that I look upon every man and teenage boy as a potential attacker; that I have been unable to work; that I even consider breaking up with Bill because of the craziness I feel; that I cannot immediately jump into my new project because I might jeopardize my case; that I no longer feel safe in Coronado; that I want to leave where I have lived for the last (almost) 10 years; and there are probably 100s more things that I am mad about, but for now, this will have to suffice.”

I actually typed this rant at the time because, as mad as I was, I knew I could never write fast enough to keep up with my thoughts.  It is almost comical, now, the things that I thought at the time.  I really had no idea of how long it would actually take me to process, deal with and get through it all.  And the thing that brought me out of shock was talking with the D.A. assigned to the case.  It completely freaked me out when she told me that we would be going to court because she had to prove beyond a reasonable doubt that he was guilty, that she had to prove his intent was to rape me, that she had to prove this to 12 people on a jury.   Well, I simply lost it right then on the phone with her.  I was so upset. (On the one hand, I was happy that I was finally crying, but on the other, I was better able to understand just what I was dealing with.  And it sucked.)  I thought, what do you mean you have to prove he’s guilty?  I know he’s guilty, I was there, I’m the one he brutally attacked.  And you have to prove his intention was rape?  Well, what do you think it was?  To have a tea party?  He ripped my clothes off.  Where is the doubt in that action alone?  Believe me, I understand that criminals (I use this word purposely.) are innocent until proven guilty in this country; what I don’t understand is why the alleged perpetrator is given all the rights and the victim of the crime, in this case ME, is treated as though she is the criminal and has done something wrong.   Oh, it was very eye-opening and not in a good way.  Part of what took me so long to recover was the repeated trauma I suffered when dealing with the D.A.  I always felt victimized after speaking with or meeting with her in person.  Even though she said she was on my side, I certainly never felt that.  And the truth was, she was the attorney for the city or state or whomever, she was NOT my attorney.  I didn’t have an attorney, though she was always happy to point out to me that it was my right to hire my own attorney.  So, let me get this right: I was the victim of a violent, attempted rape and if I want to be protected I need to pay money for this privilege?  I’m the one who was harmed here, not cockroach boy.  And I am not automatically protected?  See what I mean?  This is but one small example of how it went for me.

Something to keep in mind, too, is up to this point, we still had not gone to court.  His attorney kept getting a continuance, ostensibly because she (or he, I was never clear on this) hadn’t had time to get his psych evaluation done.  Okay, I also get how overworked the public defenders are, but, really, it’s not like cockroach boy was busy.  As far as I was concerned, he was having a merry old time in jail.  Maybe jail isn’t fun, but he chose to go to jail by attacking me.  He was getting fed each day, he didn’t have to work, he had television and internet privileges. Does that sound like he was suffering in jail?  I don’t think so.  And even if he was, too flipping bad.  I’ll say it again;  HE CHOSE to go there.

I will get more into this in my next post.

20 NOVEMBER, 10 DECEMBER 2011

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It was brought to my attention that my posts are unclear, so before I get to my journal entries, I just want to make clear exactly what it is I am posting.  When the title of my post is a date from 2011 (and 2012 after this post), that means it is an entry from my journal, from that time, of what I was feeling, going through and dealing with.  I also want to be clear that I am through my therapy and my PTSD is completely gone.  I am no longer depressed (or at least not to the extent I was immediately following the attack and for most of the healing process) and am not in any danger of ‘checking out’ early from this life of mine.  I am attempting to tell my story chronologically so that anyone following it can understand what I was thinking and feeling then.  My feelings now are different and once the entire story is written, I will be getting into my the continued process and journey.  I realize that some of what I write is hard to read, and it does get far worse before it gets better.  The whole reason for doing this, though, is to hopefully help others who are in a similar situation and feeling as if they are going stark-raving mad.  That certainly is how I felt a lot of the time.

Just a couple of short entries today…

20 November 2011

My horoscope today is worthy of recording in here:  ‘A rush of optimism and enthusiasm could propel you into a more positive frame of mind, and you could accomplish wonders.  Your circumstances may be turned upside down [understatement of the year, my words.] A move is possible, as is a change in your work.  Don’t cling to the shore – flow with the current.  Success and good fortune are on the way as long as you let them happen.’  Oh, yes, I like the sound of this.  It’s kind of what I’ve been thinking and feeling for a while now. Just need to allow it in.

10 December 2011

Last night Bill asked me if I was planning on walking this morning.  I told him I didn’t know, that I’d see if I could.  He then pointed out the probable reason that I seem to have so much trouble walking on Saturday mornings now: the attack happened on a Saturday morning.  Oh my gosh, how did I not realize this before?  That makes so much sense.

Well, we officially start the EMDR on Monday.  Another day that is very difficult for me.

14 NOVEMBER, 19 NOVEMBER 2011

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14 November

Therapy was tough today.  I almost cried.  The tears just wouldn’t come out.  It was when I was talking about Andy.  Also, Susie said she thinks my talking is my tears.  For now.  That’s probably why I am talking so much about the attack.  To everyone I see.

I think that when I was growing up, I never felt that I mattered, that I was not important.  I think I still feel that way a lot of the time.  I mean, and I know I’ve said this before at various other times in my life, I’m 51 years old and I have nothing to show for it  —  no husband, no kids, no house, no money.  Oh sure, I have a talent for making beautiful things, and a portfolio full of pictures of those beautiful things, but what does that really mean?  I think I’m trying to make myself feel relevant.  I know there are quite a lot of people who would miss me if I were gone, but what does it take for me to feel that I matter while I’m here?  I think writing my autobiography is a step in the right direction.  Also, writing about what I’m going through now.  I cannot be the only one who is experiencing it, though why no one else has come forward or no one I know has ever been attacked, I can’t figure out.  No one talks about it.  And I can’t seem to shut up.  And then there’s the annoying little voice that keeps saying, ‘Why do you think what you have to say is important?’ and ‘Why do you think anyone will even be interested or listen or care?’ and ‘Maybe I am the only one who this matters to.’  

And seriously, what’s the worst thing that can happen to me for writing it all down on my blog?  No one reads it?  I only help myself get through it?  Well, so what?  The whole point is to get me through it and if I happen to help someone else along the way, great.  If not, well, I will have still helped me.  It’s not like anyone is really reading my blog these days anyway.  I do need to figure out a way to increase my readership AND have people leave comments.  I want, no, I NEED to know that I’m not just wasting my time.  (Note- The blog I am referring to here is http://www.alittleofthisthatandtheother.blogspot.com and even before the attack I was having a bit of trouble posting on a regular basis.  After, I tried to go on as if nothing had happened, occasionally making a veiled reference to something, but never coming totally clean.  After I launched this site, I foolishly thought I could do posts on both.  That has not happened.)

19 November 2011

Slowly, but ever so slowly, I am realizing I have a very deep sense that I simply do not matter.  I, of course, l know this is ridiculous, and yet, the feeling is still there.  This was pointed out to me last Monday in therapy.  When I was talking about how mean my brothers were and how I got no relief from Mother until I took the drastic measure of running away from home, Susie asked me if I felt that I didn’t matter?  I said, yes, and I’ve thought about it a lot this past week.  I’m not sure why I feel this way.  Oh, I can understand why I would have felt it before, but not after Hoffman and all the subsequent work I’ve done to deal with my past.  Apparently, though, it is still there.  Rats!

The Hoffman gathering today was pretty powerful for me.  The topic was Gratitude.  My first thought was, ‘of course I am grateful for everything.’  And then I thought more about that and realized it was the perfect topic for me because, although I am definitely grateful for a lot of things, I am not nearly in the frame of mind I was pre-attack.  I can’t even thank God for my island anymore.  That has got to shift for me.  I am working on it, but maybe I really do need to ‘fake it ’til I feel it again.’  Kind of like the releasing resentment prayer that Mike sent me.  I’ve been doing it and I’m pretty sure I’ve done it for more than 14 consecutive days and I’ve yet to feel any less mad or resentful towards cockroach boy.   Still, I’ll keep doing it.  It certainly cannot hurt anything and may be helping me in ways I am not even aware of.  (Another note – the releasing resentment prayer I mentioned here is an amalgamation from the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous and says the following: “God, please help me show ____ the same tolerance, compassion and patience that I would cheerfully grant a sick friend.  This is a sick person God.  Save me from being angry and resentful.  Thy will be done.  I ask for everything that I want for myself to be given to him.  I ask for his health, his prosperity and his happiness.”   Say it for 14 consecutive days and see if it doesn’t help you release your resentment.  Remember that this is for your peace of mind and serenity, not his.)

SO LONG 2012 AND WELCOME 2013

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DSCN1255

 

We were on our way home from  Los Angeles on Christmas Day and stopped off in San Clemente to watch the sunset.  It was spectacular!

In the weeks since my last post, things have been pretty hectic.  I am STILL dealing with my back and though it is soooo much better, it is not all the way better and working is quite challenging at times.  The pain can be so intense that all I can really do is retreat to my bed, take lots of ibuprofen and lie on the heating pad.  I was doing my best to get several jobs finished before the holidays and between that and my back, I simply had no time to post here.  That will all change after the first of the year.  I promise!

2012 was an incredible year of healing for me, and I did a lot of ‘planting’ of new ideas and dreams.  2013 will be a year of those ideas and dreams blooming!  And I am so excited about that.  There is still so much more to tell about my journey through my sexual assault and, in time, the other parts of my life, mostly the past, that contributed to all I went through in my EMDR experience and healing from the attack.  It is fascinating and you won’t be disappointed.

HAPPY NEW YEAR TO EVERYONE!  And like we always said in school, See You Next Year!

BETTER LATE THAN NEVER

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One day in early October I was on Pinterest and came upon a quote I liked.  I clicked on it and there was a link at the bottom of it to a web site.  Of course, I had to check it out.  What I clicked on was womenforone.

“Women For One is a global community of women encouraging authenticity and inspiration. We empower women of all ages, ethnicities and backgrounds to exchange authentic dialogue through telling their stories, sharing life lessons and supporting others on their journey for growth.”

 I thought, ‘cool!’  Once on the site I saw a button that said, ‘BE BRAVE- SUBMIT YOUR STORY!,’ which I did.  I got an immediate response from Kelly McNelis Senegor, the founder and woman behind the site. We emailed back and forth, and after a few revisions on my part, Kelly informed me that they would be featuring my story, probably the beginning of November.  Well, that day came and went and I wondered what happened.  Then I threw my back out and most everything else went straight out of my head.  While lounging (oh, I wish) in bed, I received another email from Kelly telling me they would be featuring my story on 10 November.  So, this post about that is only 11 or 12 days overdue.  I did put a link on my Facebook pages, but here it is again.

Do yourself a favor and go check out the web site.  There are so many inspiring stories to read.  Mine is just one of many.

Update on my back – still in some pain, though much, much better than 2 weeks ago.  My work with Eileen Troberman and the Alexander Technique has done wonders.  I am able to move around pretty well.  Sitting is still a challenge, which is why it took me so long to do this post.  Walking is good for me, though I am really slow.  It took me an hour to walk 3 miles.  I realize this is kind of a normal pace for most people, but my ‘normal’ pace is more like 4 1/2 miles and hour, if not faster.  Anyway, part of my therapy is taking frequent walks.  I am still working up to being able to sit and sew.  Slowly, but slowly, but surely I’m getting there.

I hope everyone has a wonderful Thanksgiving.  I will be back to posting regularly after the holiday.  Cheers!

2 NOVEMBER 2011

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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.

 

 

I GRADUATED!!!!!!

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Yesterday was my last session with my amazing therapist, Susie Morgan.  As much as I loved her, I hated therapy just as much, if not more.  Believe me, I know I am very fortunate to have found her and to have had the Victims Compensation Program paying for my therapy.  It was not inexpensive.  By my calculations, it cost approximately $16,000 or so.  I could never have afforded it myself.  I also know that without the therapy I would not be where I am today.

It turns out that by my returning last week to the scene of the crime, the final piece of my journey fell into place.  Susie told me yesterday that when I left her office the previous Monday she never thought I’d be able to actually do it without several more sessions of processing the fear that had such a tight grip on me.  I think it basically came down to me wanting to be finished with therapy, to wanting to finally be able to take back ‘my’ entire island and to knowing inside that I COULD do it.  I told her yesterday that I wished I had done it sooner and she told me that I did it when I was able to.  The truth is I couldn’t have done it before.  I wish I could have, but I simply was not ready.  

The last 403 days (and, yes, I did just count to be sure) have been such a roller coaster ride.  It’s not a ride I ever thought I’d be on and one I hope no one else ever has to take.  Unfortunately, that will probably not be the case.  Everyone is different and traumatic events will not be experienced the same by anyone.  The one thing that is true, though, is that without professional help, you will NOT heal.  Oh sure, you may be able to put the attack, or whatever happened, out of your mind and maybe even fool most people into thinking that you are okay.  You will want to be.  You will want to just put it behind you.  You will want to pretend that it didn’t happen or that it wasn’t so bad.  After all, you survived it, right?  You won’t be okay, though, and no amount of wishing, hoping, even praying will make it so.  It is SO important that you get into therapy.  I worked harder than I ever have in my entire life this last year and that’s why I can be sharing this with you now.  Another thing I know for certain is that you deserve to be more than just okay.  I urge you to do whatever it takes to make that a reality.

One last thing – I mentioned this before in my post about how my face has changed, that my way of describing how I looked different to myself (and to a lesser degree, to others) was that I had lost my ‘shiny.’  Well, yesterday Susie told me, as she was trying not to cry (which, of course, made me cry) that there is now a light in my eyes that she had never seen before.  My shiny is back!