I am exhausted

Well, I am officially a badass.  I had one hell, whopper of a migraine last night after I got off the phone, so my sleep was very shallow and troubled.  But I got up and went to group anyway.  And that is when I was awesome.

Trigger Alert:

I told about the memory I had 3 weeks ago.  The memory of being orally raped by a male when I was an infant.  Yes.  Part of me still has a somewhat hard time believing we can remember something that happened when we were an infant.  But most of me believes it.  I have read enough research about traumatic memory that I know it's possible.  And it happened to me.  This is not the first memory I have had about sexual abuse, but it is the most complete and concrete.  It was all senses at once.  Other times I have had body memories, but no visuals, or visuals when I was high that I discounted because I was high.  This happened dead sober, when I was least expecting it, meaning I wasn't trolling for a memory.  It just came. 

I don't understand someone who would do that to a baby.  It is so foreign that it seems almost impossible.  But my body memory was real.  So I believe myself.  I just am devastated.  Devastated that I was hurt before I could even walk, made to dissociate before I could even communicate.  It is a wonder I'm still alive.  I think some seriously terrible things happened to me in that house, and I know seriously terrible things happened to me in the other house.  I know my mother beat me, emotionally abused me and terrorized me my entire childhood until I was 21.  I told her she couldn't hit me anymore at 21.  Twenty fucking one, and she was still in such utter control of me.  37 and the control is just finally waning, after three years of intensive, intensive, intensive therapy.  Almost 4 years now.  Wow.  I don't like to think about it.  It feels like it shouldn't be taking me this long.

But fuck that.  I was one of the most defended people ever.  I was in total unreality about my childhood, because it was never safe before to truly understand how bad it was.  It took me 2 years to truly trust the therapeutic process.

I am so sad, but it is a good sad, an authentic devastation about my childhood.  I had no one safe, ever.  Ever.  So, I am a badass for making it through.  Yes, I am.  We all are. 

Cards, Cards, Cards

I had a wonderful day today, even though part of it was spent telling my group why I was a waste of space and should kill myself.  Hmmm.  Anyway, the rest of the day went really well.  Big confession time here, this is something I keep so compartmentalized from myself that it never even occured to me to put in writing:  I was arrested last year for shoplifting.  I wasn't booked or fingerprinted or anything, but I was handcuffed within the store, then given a ticket/paper that told me to show up for court.  I got a lawyer, paid him mucho bucks, and he's been on it since then.  Today was our trial date, finally, after lawyer stalled for a year on purpose.  His strategy was to continue the case forever, so that when it finally came to trial, none of the witnesses/cops would show up.  AND GUESS WHAT HAPPENED?  IT WORKED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So I went to the courthouse today for the trial, and before it even got started the prosecution dropped my case because no cops showed up to witness!!!!  Yay!!!! YAY.

This is a second chance for me.  It's like the Goddess said, hey chica, wake up! when I got arrested, but she let me off the hook for major damage.  Now I can pay more money and have my record expunged, and I will be as pure as the driven snow.  Ha.   But I must work on the shoplifting.  I now have pretty much accepted that it is part of my whole trauma-liciousness.  It actually is on a list in the book Secret Survivors. Checklist to see if you have sexual trauma, and shoplifting is one of the choices.  That was quite a shock when I saw that, because it doesn't immediately seem to have to do with trauma.  But there's a correlation.  Weird.

Lara came back to group today to process more about her leaving.  I missed most of it because of court, but it was nice she came.  I am going to miss her so, so, so, so, so, so much.  Sad just thinking about it.

OK.  Good day!  I went to walk on the beach to celebrate my courthouse victory and it was nice.  I picked up a cool piece of coral I want to make into a necklace.

I am still sort of in love with -.  In love is probably not the write word.  In infatuation? In like?  I want to spend more time with her, and I can't because she's such a damn loner.  I miss her when I'm not hanging out with her, and we're just friends.  Ugh.  I don't know if this is romantic, or I'm just lonely and excited to have a friend who can keep up with me.  I don't think I really want to do anything physical with her, I just want to be around her a lot.  What is that?  A friend crush?

OK, time to finish my dang business cards.  I've been working on them for weeks, and I've got to take the plunge, finalize the design and order the damn things!  They will be ordered by tomorrow.  Yay.  Then the official Owl Tutoring will begin.  If I get 4 clients a week I would be overjoyed.  And I'm pretty sure I can get them!  Yay!

On what looks like to me, my mother's hand

How do I both love and hate Ani Difranco.  She is a genius, but cold.  I am jealous of her talent, her drive, her ability to succeed.  I don't think I could have ever been an Ani, but I could have been great.  Is it too late now?  Probably.

I relapsed just now.  Watching porn.  Ugh.  I hate it, but I do it.  I also relapsed on alcohol.  But for some reason that doesn't seem like a big deal.  Because I don't really think alcohol is a problem.  DXM is definitely a problem.

"look with all of you, not with just your eyes."  Albacore, Ani Difranco.

My hands are aging.  My face is not I guess.  I got carded tonight to buy my uggy six pack of Mikes Pink Hard Lemonade.  The guy thought I was in my 20's. Yay.  Or not.  Whatever.

I am so sad.  And so, so, so, so, so alone.  I want to be in love, to have someone love me, but I have no ability to do so.  I want a circle of friends that I can love and love me.  And I don't.  I have 3 good friends.  That is good.  But somehow that doesn't seem like enough somehow.  J says I'm feeling the abandonment.  This feeling of aloneness and emptiness is the emptiness from childhood.  Maybe so, but how do I fix it?  How does that knowledge somehow help?

I think I am close to suicidal again. Death by ennui.

My mother's hands were always on me.  Except when I wouldn't touch her.  But she always had the god-fucking-given right to put her hands on me at any time she wanted.  The right of her being the adult, the right because I was a child, the right because she was my mother and she owned me.  The right of the strong over the weak, over the young, over the helpless.  I loved her and she used that against me.  I put up with so much, because I had no other choice.  I should have left.  Like Suzanne said, at 5 I should have packed a bag, grabbed my 3 year old bother and fucking flown to Paris.  Gotten away from the werewolves.  Werewolf mother, werewolf father.  Werewolf daughter?  No.

Friends?

Hola.  So I just painted my nails and am trying to type without smudging them.  We'll see.  Just got off the phone with Tara and had a good talk with her about Susan.  Susan and I are having problems because... well basically because she is clueless on how to be a good friend.  I asked her on Weds to hang out with me because I was having a bad day and she said she would come over, even though she didn't want to.  This hurt my feelings, and I told her so today.  After discussing this for 10 minutes or so on the phone today, she told me our friendship was not going to work out and she wished me luck in life.  Then she hung up.  So I guess we are not friends anymore?  This is really Susan's issue.  It is not cool to say you dont want to hang out with someone, but you'll still come over.  Not cool, it hurt my feelings, and that she can't understand that is her problem, not mine.  So I guess we're not friends, and that's the way it is.

I slept all day today.  I mean all day.  But I am not going to beat myself up about it.  So there.

OK, gotta go, gotta eat. 

Boredom or Fear

So I'm home alone.  Which is a luxury, to be able to have my own place, with air conditioning, a comfy bed, a great TV, a blu-ray player and Netflix.  But I have too much time on my hands.  But I am also afraid to do anything.  I do not want to leave the house.  I would have nothing to do anyway.  As of right now I am in the odd and very lucky position of having all my financial needs taken care of, and having absolutely nothing to do.

I could make cards for my fledgling tutoring business, but I am afraid.  I could go get something to eat, but I don't want to leave the house.  I just watch tv, screw around on the internet, and hide.

I am supposed to start IOP tomorrow, and I'm worried that I'm only doing it because I don't know what else to do.  I need to get myself a life, but I don't want to.  But I am no longer suicidal- I know I am going to live, I just don't know HOW. 

Ugh. Ugh. Uggggggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.  I guess the first step would be to take a shower.  Then get something to eat.  Then go to a meeting.  Then what?  Who the fuck knows.