Today should have been my brother Andy’s 41st birthday. I wonder if I’ll ever stop feeling so sad on this day? The picture of us was taken at a family reunion in July 1999. I was 39 and Andy was 25.
JUST WHEN I THINK I’M OKAY…
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STRANGE DREAMS
While trying to decide on what to write about today, I thought it was time to go back to 1987 and continue my story of life in West Germany. As I was reading, I started to notice a pattern of very strange dreams. I love that I wrote them down, and some have lots of details. At the time, though technically still married, my marriage was over. Also, to protect the ‘innocent’ or at least not name names, I will use initials, and where people have the same initial, though not the same names, I will use letters and numbers. I don’t know how else to do it without flat-out changing the names, and then I have to keep track of who is who, and that is just too much trouble.
12 November 1987
I had a horrible dream last night. I dreamed that I was pregnant with D1’s baby. D2 had a girlfriend, and he guessed that D1 was who I had been sleeping with. I never did tell him that I was going to have a baby. I’m not sure if D1 knew or not. A lot more went on in the dream but I can’t explain it. Anyway, I had a really tough time waking up from it this morning. It was like I was trapped in theorem and couldn’t escape. Kind of like my life right now. Except that I am not pregnant. I just remembered thinking while I was dreaming that even though it was awful timing to be pregnant, I knew that D1 would pay for the hospital and everything since it was his baby.
19 November 1987
I had the most horrible dream last night. J died. And I had to tell everyone. It was awful. I woke up dripping wet around my neck. I had to change my nightgown, that’s how wet it was. What a terrible dream. Then I dreamed that she had cut all her hair off at D3’s last night. She came home this morning with a haircut kind of like L’s and with her curls in her arms. She is not home yet, so I hope neither of these dreams are true. I’m so tempted to call her to make sure…Okay, I just called and she is fine, not dead, and she didn’t cut her hair. What a relief!
25 November 1987
I had such a weird dream this morning. In the beginning it was J and D3 and me and D1. I have no idea where we were. I’m not sure what J and D3 were doing, but D1 and I were rolling around on the floor, kissing. Then we were sitting, talking, with a glass partion between us. It wasn’t solid though, and I kept sticking my feel under it and he was kissing them. Then this woman came and told us we were too old to be there. D1 tried to tell her that we were 12 and 14, but she didn’t believe him. D1 went out the back side and disappeared. I decided to go and find J and D3. I went to the other side of the mall (it looked like Yorktown) to the restaurant I thought they were in. K, D4, my mother, G, and B were there. I asked K if she had seen J and D3. No one knew where they were, though. K was 5 months pregnant. It was really weird though because the baby was on the outside. K and D4 didn’t know if they really wanted this baby. The baby had blonde hair and blue eyes and freckles. It was so pretty. It could also talk. Anyway, K and D4 were crying because they didn’t know what to do. I was crying because I wanted a baby. Mother was crying because everyone else was. I’m not sure why B was there or why he was crying. Mother asked me what was wrong. I told her that I wanted a baby really badly. She told me that I didn’t have to cry because D2 and I could have one of our own. I wanted to tell her that, no, we couldn’t because we were going to be having divorce soon, but I couldn’t say it. Then I woke up because I was crying.
Okay, so back to the present. The really ironic thing was while I kept dreaming about being pregnant, I actually was pregnant. But I did not know it until I had a miscarriage. I was on the Pill and I NEVER missed taking one. I did tell D1 and he was bummed. Over the years, when he would send me a postcard from some far-flung locale, he would always mention it, usually by saying something like, ‘I hope you’re taking good care of our son.’ Luckily, I had a mother who was very respectful of my privacy and would not even read a postcard if it wasn’t addressed to her. Still, every time I’d read a comment like that, it would take me back to Hamburg and I’d wonder how things might have turned out differently had I not lost that baby.
KIND VS NICE
Is there a difference? Can someone be nice, but not necessarily kind? Or kind but not nice? If you are a nice person, does this automatically mean you are also a kind person? Or do nice and kind go hand-in-hand?
According to the Dictionary on my computer: Nice means pleasant; agreeable; satisfactory. Kind means good-natured; caring; affectionate; considerate; helpful; thoughtful; compassionate; benevolent. Of course, all of these descriptions of nice and kind are actually from the thesaurus. Turns out nice and kind are pretty much interchangeable, at least according to the dictionary/thesaurus. I’m not sure I agree with this. To me, they are similar but different. I think you can be nice, but not necessarily kind; and vice versa.
While it is true that I have written about this subject before, it has been on my mind a lot lately. I recently obtained a new domain name, actually 2, that have to do with being kind. I see t-shirts, bumper stickers, mugs, really anything that can have a saying put on it. I think the more reminders we have, the more likely we all are to remember to be kind. I am not quite ready to unveil my new venture, but I will tell you the initials are WNBK. I sort of like the idea of just putting the initials on a shirt to spark interest that way. It’s hard to resist reading/seeing something like that and not asking what it stands for. Like a vanity license plate that you do your best to figure out. Or as a friend of mine said, like WWJD. Most everyone knows what those initials mean. Can you guess what WNBK stands for?
I think Ralph Waldo Emerson said it very well:
STUPID JELLY BEANS
I was doing so well. I ate clean, didn’t drink alcohol and cut out processed sugar in January. I did yoga for 28 straight days in February, while I continued to eat clean 80% of the time, maybe more; and though I did drink a couple of times, it was not a big deal. Then March arrived and I didn’t have a planned challenge set up for myself. Big mistake. I fell off the sugar wagon in a HUGE way. I know I’ve written about my addiction to sugar in the past, but for the life of me, I cannot find that post. If I repeat myself, please forgive me.
So, the first week or so of March, I did okay. Not doing yoga every single day meant that I could finally get more walking in, which I love and is necessary for my overall health and well-being. I continued to do Bikram on Wednesdays, mainly because my Groupon was good for two months and I figured, why not use it? I am definitely not crazy about the class, though the sweating is a good thing. As it turned out, today was my last day at Coronado Hot Yoga, unless I wish to buy a class card, which I don’t. I have another class in mind for Wednesdays, starting next week. But enough of what I did right. It was the stupid sweet-tart jelly beans that knocked me off the sugar wagon, which resulted in me going waaay wrong.
Easter is a big problem for me. Halloween I can get through without too much of a problem, simply because there are no jelly beans, at least not ones that call to me, to have to contend with. Easter, though, is a whole other story. And as I was innocently walking past Rite Aid, I went in and, lo and behold, Easter candy. And not just any candy, but SWEET-TART JELLY BEANS. So I accidentally bought a bag. I took it home, opened it up and ate a handful. ‘Yuck,’ I thought, ‘these aren’t even that good.’ I then proceeded to throw the rest of the bag into the garbage, and just for good measure, I made sure there was no way I could retrieve them from said garbage. I then thought, ‘well, this is good. I ate them, they didn’t taste good, so I’ll be fine.’ Wishful thinking! A few days later, I bought another bag. I went through the exact same process, ending with me dumping them into the garbage. Again. I did this, oh, three more times until I developed a taste for them again. What a dumb thing to do! And my hot flashes came back with a vengeance. Lovely, just lovely.
So, I’d go through a bag in a few days. I decided that maybe this wasn’t horrible, not great, but not so bad. Oh, I wish this was the case. Then the day came when I bought a bag and ate the ENTIRE thing in one day. Well, crap! Again, I told myself, NO MORE. And I’d go, maybe a day or two, if I was really lucky, and then those stupid jelly beans would somehow get in my shopping cart and come home with me. Not wanting to be impolite, I would, of course, eat them all, yet again. Then I decided that I would just have to get through Easter. At this point, it was less than a week away, and once Easter is finished, the stupid Easter candy in the stores is gone. Thank God! But wouldn’t you know it, the day after Easter, all Easter candy is half-price! Are you kidding me? How am I to resist half-price sweet-tart jelly beans? I did my best to stay out of the store where they lay in wait for me. You can guess how well that worked. Not so well, unfortunately.
I will say that even though there were four bags of those pretty jelly beans, I only bought two of them. I almost bought them all, but I somehow had some sense left and just got two bags. In the end, I ate three-quarters of them before throwing the rest away. Again, I made sure that fishing them out of the trash was not an option, because I’m pretty sure I would have otherwise.
Now, I have to get off sugar again. Really? Didn’t I just do this? Why is it so hard for me to not eat processed sugar? Why do I seem powerless over jelly beans? Even when eating them makes me feel like crap? Sugar truly is a drug to me, and my body reacts accordingly. Maybe it’s like rehab, and how it sometimes takes more than one or two or three, or more, times for it to stick. Dang! I guess there are worse thing s to be addicted to, but, for me, this is pretty bad. As I sit here writing this post, I keep having hot flashes. They suck! A lot!!
I have my work cut out for me, yet again. I also realized that as much as I love yoga, and practicing it five days a week is much more doable than every day, I am still not getting the exercise I really need. Other than my ashtanga class with the fabulous Steve Hubbard in Pacific Beach on Saturdays, I really do not get much of a workout. I decided I need to give up my Tuesday and Thursday beach yoga classes so that I can walk more. This means I will be cutting my yoga down to 3 days a week. Hey, if I didn’t have to work, then I could do both. The reality is I do have to work and the relatively late start times of these yoga classes is making it impossible for me to keep doing them. I can leave to walk much earlier, which means I’ll be home earlier and can get to work before 10 or 11 each morning.
I know that these problems I am experiencing are, as my friend Stephanie Spence calls them, Prada problems. Still, figuring out how to make my life work for me is an ongoing challenge. Fortunately, I am up to it.
THE HUNTING GROUND
Today is the first day of Sexual Assault Awareness Month 2015. As unpleasant and difficult a subject that sexual assault is it is still vitally important that we, all of us, do what we can to change it. I saw THE HUNTING GROUND on Sunday, and though I cried through most of it, I highly, HIGHLY recommend it. I only wish it was required for all high school students. Sexual assault is an epidemic that we have the power to stop, and we must stop it.
“THE HUNTING GROUND
From the Academy Award-nominated filmmaking team behind “The Invisible War” comes a startling exposé of sexual assault on U.S. campuses, institutional cover-ups and the brutal social toll on victims and their families. “THE HUNTING GROUND” debuted in January at the Sundance Film Festival and is being released by RADiUS and CNN Films. The film has captured attention across the country, and it has even made it to The Daily Show where Oscar-nominated filmmakers Amy Ziering and Kirby Dick talk about the film’s impact and the scope of this problem.
This film is powerful. Through stories and statistics this film highlights the far-reaching scope of campus sexual assault. It adds names and faces to the many reports, trends and articles on this timely issue. Most importantly, it looks to engage audiences to take action to end sexual assault on college campuses.
NSVRC is partnering with The Hunting Ground this April to help spread the word. We know this film is going to be a conversation starter, and we want to play a role in building this conversation toward action. Stay tuned to hear more from us about how you can be involved.”
For more about the film and a list of screening locations, go to www.thehuntinggroundfilm.com.
A SMALL VACATION
I have been really tired lately. Haven’t been sleeping all that well, and the time change hasn’t helped. As I wrote last week, my words just were not coming out like I wanted them to. Then Sunday, the same thing happened. I think I need a little break. I have been really good this year with posting on Wednesdays and Sundays, and though I still have many more stories and experiences to share, I am going to take a small ‘vacation’ from posting twice a week. I may only need a week. Maybe two. And then I’ll be back.
YOU CAN QUOTE ME ON THAT
Sometimes my own words just don’t want to come out, at least not in a cohesive way that says what I really want to say. Today is one of those days. When this happens, I go to the quotes I’ve snatched off of Facebook and/or Pinterest.
I DID IT!!!
Yea! Yippee! Music cued and I’m doing the happy dance! Okay, really, I’m just sitting at my desk typing, but in my mind, I’m dancing. Yesterday was day 28 of my own personal yoga challenge, and I am happy to say I did it! Of course, if it would not have rained all last night and this morning, I would have had 29 days in a row since I always do beach yoga on Sundays. Unless, of course, it is raining. When I realized beach yoga would not be happening today, my first thought was, ‘I’ll go to Bikram;’ my second thought was, ‘what’s wrong with you? Your body needs a break.’ So, no yoga today. My body truly does need a day of rest.
This what I learned from doing 28 straight days of yoga – it is exhausting. For whatever reason, I definitely need a day off to let my body recover and recuperate from all I ask of it on a daily basis. I also think if I did beach yoga 7 days a week, I’d probably be okay. It was the Bikram that I found so difficult. And not difficult in that it was hard, but, rather, it was the heat and sweating like a racehorse that did me in. Don’t get me wrong, I kind of liked it, or I at least liked the challenge of doing it. I did not manage to fall in love with it, though I will continue to do it, but only one day a week. What I also learned is I need to walk. It is like breathing to me, and when I am unable to do it, I feel like something vital is missing. I simply did not have the time to do yoga every day and walk, too. Maybe if I didn’t have to work… but I did, I do.
I was so busy getting through last month’s challenge that I never thought of anything to do for the month of March. Like I mentioned a few posts back, January was cleansing and no sugar or alcohol; February was continuing to eat clean, and though I did drink alcohol a couple of times, for the most part I stuck with not drinking, and, of course, my yoga challenge. I think for March I will take it easy and spend the month deciding on a challenge for April. It seems a good thing for me to challenge myself.
Below are a few quotes about challenge that spoke to me. Perhaps they will inspire something in you, as well:
“To be a champion, I think you have to see the big picture. It’s not about winning and losing; it’s about every day hard work and about thriving on a challenge. It’s about embracing the pain that you’ll experience at the end of a race and not being afraid. I think people think too hard and get afraid of a certain challenge.” ~Summer Sanders
“Challenge is the pathway to engagement and progress in our lives. But not all challenges are created equal. Some challenges make us feel alive, engaged, connected, and fulfilled. Others simply overwhelm us. Knowing the difference as you set bigger and bolder challenges for yourself is critical to your sanity, success, and satisfaction.” ~Brendon Burchard
“I want to challenge you today to get out of your comfort zone. You have so much incredible potential on the inside. God has put gifts and talents in you that you probably don’t know anything about.” ~Joel Osteen
“Scientists have demonstrated that dramatic, positive changes can occur in our lives as a direct result of facing an extreme challenge – whether it’s coping with a serious illness, daring to quit smoking, or dealing with depression. Researchers call this ‘post-traumatic growth.'” ~Jane McGonigal
Of these four quotes, the last one explains, perhaps, the why I feel it necessary to challenge myself. I guess in some ways I am still healing from my sexual assault, and this is my brain’s way of continuing my ‘post-traumatic growth.’ I like it! It makes sense to me. I think so much of what we do, of what I do, is more unconscious than not. These small or not-so-small challenges I set for myself are a way of being more conscious in my life. And if life truly is a journey, not a destination, as Ralph Waldo Emerson believed, then the way I see it, the more conscious we are, the better that journey will be. So much, well, really, everything, changed in my life on 24 September 2011, which has turned out to not be a ‘bad’ thing. I’ve just had to learn how to embrace what now is. I will continue to challenge myself, and, hopefully, continue to grow. And that, I believe, is a very good thing.
Graham Moore’s Oscar Speech Sends a Heartfelt Message to Those Kids who Feel They are Weird, Different or Don’t Fit in.
Loved this post on KINDNESS BLOG…
Graham Moore won Best Adapted Screenplay for “The Imitation Game” at Sunday’s Oscars.
The screenplay was about Alan Turing, the genius codebreaker who did so much to help the Allies overcome the Nazis during World War II, but was later demonized and eventually committed suicide.
He used the win to give a powerful speech about being ‘different’, depression and suicide awareness.
His moving speech has been welcomed with much praise with several stars including Ellen DeGeneres and singer Ariana Grande applauding it.
DeGeneres wrote on Twitter: ‘Congratulations Graham Moore. That speech was beautiful. You should think about being a writer.’
While Grande posted: ‘Anyone else want to hug and thank Graham Moore?’
The screenwriter said he had imagined the moment on stage as a teenager when he would get to say those things during an acceptance speech, and said that it was surreal to be able to do it for…
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CRASH INTO ME
While trying to decide on which book to choose for today’s post, this one practically jumped off the bookshelf and into my hands. CRASH INTO ME, by Liz Seccuro, was published in 2011, and that’s when I read it. How I was even able to at that point, I’ll never know. The only thing I can think is I was still in shock and my brain simply shielded me from the horror of what I was reading. (It continues to amaze me how my body and brain protect me when I don’t even realize that’s what’s happening until much later.)
From the inside dust jacket: “Dear Elizabeth: In October 1984 I harmed you. I can scarcely begin to understand the degree to which, in your eyes, my behavior has affected you in its wake.
In September 2005, Liz Seccuro received an apology letter from William Beebe, the man who had raped her twenty-one years earlier. Liz was only seventeen when she was assaulted at a fraternity party at the University of Virginia. Although she reacted as best she knew how–going straight to the hospital and taking her story to the college administration–the school’s deans discouraged her from going to the city police, and effectively denied her the kind of justice she sought.
For years, Liz struggled to put the trauma behind her and lead a normal, happy life. The letter brought it all raging back. Terrified that her rapist had tracked her down, Liz began an email correspondence with Beebe, and became determined to pursue the criminal investigation that should have happened years earlier. She wanted justice, and the case seemed clear-cut: she had a confession from the man whose face had long haunted her. But as the highly publicized investigation progressed, a narrative unspooled that was darker than she had believed: a gang rape with at least two other assailants and numerous onlookers, and a wall of silence among the fraternity brothers that persisted two decades later.
Liz Seccuro’s experience of campus assault and justice deferred is an all-too-common one, but it is a story we too rarely hear. In CRASH INTO ME, Liz tells her story with candor, courage and hard-won hope.”
Truly, I do not know how I read this book, as I was right at the beginning of my ordeal. It is easy now, though, for me to see and understand that as difficult as it was and as hard as I had to fight the justice system to make sure my attacker was convicted and sentenced to prison, I actually had it better than a lot of women who suffer similarly. I had the support of family and friends. I also had the maturity to not let anyone keep me from what I knew was right and necessary to do. The ignorant comments from the police (Are you sure it wasn’t a robbery? I HAD NOTHING TO STEAL! and Are you sure you didn’t just trip? YEAH, I TRIPPED AND MY CLOTHES FELL OFF!) not withstanding, there was no way, NO FLIPPING WAY, I was letting this drop. It was too late for me to be safe from him, but getting him off the streets and keeping other girls and/or women safe was my responsibility.
Although Liz Seccuro’s book is a difficult read, I do recommend it, especially if you or someone you know has been sexually assaulted in any way. It is also another example of how it is possible to go on and live a normal, happy life after surviving a horrendous event. In the end, getting the justice you deserve is its own reward. It may not be easy, but is it ever worth it!
At Long Last Heard 