And So It Begins

We left home in the wee hours of Sunday and after a 16 hour flight, we were met by a bespectacled man wearing a rather shabby cap of some sort and a over-sized shirt which bore the name of some sort of tobacco product (Ghurka).  He introduced himself, and oddly enough, he was the one I was scheduled to meet with today.  He told us that he knew we were probably exhausted by wanted to make sure we had dined sufficiently before going to our inn.  We stopped at a quaint pub and had a few drinks and lots of delicious food.  Then we were whisked off three whole blocks to our inn, which I would never have guessed would be an inn.  Our host told us that it was a converted carriage house and there was a pool of sorts in the midst of the courtyard.  He also took the liberty of setting our breakfast order to be delivered at 8:00 as our first session would take place at 10, which would consist of a stroll.

I showered and was so tired I didn’t even bother with a dressing gown, just crawled under the sheets and only woke to the knocking at the door for breakfast.  Still groggy, I stumbled to the door and flung it open rubbing my eyes.  When the tray hit the pavement, I was wide awake and suddenly remembered I was bare ass naked answering the door for breakfast.  I slammed the door shut and apologized through the door repeatedly.   From the other side of the door I heard the young man apologizing too.  15 minutes later, I was hiding in the lav trying to compose myself, when another knock came and Logan got up and answered this time.  An older woman delivered our meal and told Logan, “Yo bruthuh dun gone an skeert mah sun summin’ fearce.  He ain’ seen so man what ain’ got no twig and berries.”  Logan apologized and promised it would not happen again.  Now I’m not allowed to answer the door for the next two weeks, and am even MORE self conscious about my appearance.

We found our host had sent a pedal cab for us and pedaled us to a park which overlooked the bay.  He had brought a thermos of tea (much to my gratitude) and said all we would do before lunch was walk and talk.  So we did.  Logan first and then me.  Our stories were almost identical.  I never knew that the Grunge had done to Logan all he had done to me. We stopped a few times to look at the scenery, which was breathtaking.  And our host didn’t say much, just listening as we walked.

After a couple of hours, our host asked us if we would like to try some local cuisine or something more neutral.  We opted for local and he said there was a wonderful place where we could get something called “grits” and shrimp.  Still not sure what the hell a “grit” is, but the shrimp were tasty.  I had asked for tea and discovered it was thickly sweet and full of ice.  Not what I was expecting.

After lunch, we walked to a pier where there were these enormous swings.  We all three fit comfortably in one and we listened to our host.  He asked a few questions for clarification on some events, but he made so much sense.  I felt completely at ease with him.  Amazingly, in just one day, I feel more alive.

This afternoon, he’s taking us on a tour of the “historic district” and this evening, we are going to an “off the beaten path” place he calls “The Wreck.”

More tomorrow!

Pondering the Peace

I’ve been pondering the peace and quiet of my mind within the week past.  Astounded I have been by the fact that, even though things have been less than smooth, my mind remains at peace and the feeling of gloom and doom, which has been my burden for so long, seems to have retreated back from whence it came.

I did meet with Logan for a bit of a chat.  He told me didn’t mean to cause me pain or to cause a rift between us, but when he knew I had found out he had a son by one of my abusers, he was shocked then stunned, and ashamed.  I told him that, although I was devastated at the discovery, I’m beginning to understand that there is a reason for everything.  I admitted to him that I was very hurt and angry and felt betrayed, but have been working through those feelings.  We talked through two pots of tea.

We both apologized to each other and then I took him to that crumbling abandoned chapel I had found.  I told him about my experience there and that I had been going every day just for the peace and quiet.  Every time I had gone there, the wave of contentment and inexplicable sense of love flooded me.  Logan stood there looking about and I saw tears streaming down his face.  He turned to me and said, “This place is quite amazing.”

I hugged him and told him that I loved him so much.  Then I just held him while he wept. Finally he told me that he understood why I came here.  He also asked me if I would consider moving back in with him because the flat was so lonely and cold.  We talked about my supervisor’s suggestion that I travel to the states for a couple of weeks to talk with a friend of hers who dealt with PTSD and Trauma Recovery.  So he said, if it was okay with my supervisor, he would like to come with me as he is due for holiday.

I talked with my supervisor and she was ecstatic that he wanted to go too.  And when I told her that he would be paying both of our stays and transport, she couldn’t stop the happy from showing all over her.  Thus, we are leaving for the States on Sunday coming to stay for two weeks.  All the travel and counseling arrangements have been made.  We’ll be in someplace called Charleston, South Carolina.  I looked on a map and online and it appears to be more than a bit wide and spread out, but it will be an adventure nonetheless.

I’ll let you know what’s happening as this adventure unfolds.  But of this I am confident: Experiences we endure have a purpose.

I Think I Thunk

I’ve been doing a LOT of thinking and remembering and contemplating and pondering and I think I thunk.  I was talking with my counselor about all I had written (93 entries) about my life with the Grunge.  And toward the end of our session, she stopped and said, “You have so much anger and rage caged up inside you.  What are you going to do with it?”  I told her I wanted my experiences to help others, and she smiled and said, “That wasn’t the question. What are you going to do with all that is eating you up inside?  Are you going to let it destroy you or are you going to let it go so you can LIVE for once.”

Odd question I’ll admit.  But the meds only numb the pain.  The writing brings the pain.  I haven’t grasped the concept of letting go of the pain and anger and rage.  How can I help others if I have this caged pissed off dragon inside?  So I began to think.

I took each memory I had written.  Re-read them one at a time.  Then I put then in the fire in the fireplace.  And as I did that, I told myself that memory is history, it cannot hurt me anymore unless I let it.  It’s time to unlock the cage and release the dragon!

And So Begins A New Year

Seems like a lifetime ago since I’ve had the opportunity to post anything here.  I got released into counseled care after one of my cuts went too deep.  27 stitches later and a psych eval later, here I am at the beginning of a new year.

I talked at length with my counselor about all I had written about my life under the control and domination of the Grunge and all he did.  She wanted to give me meds to help me not think about the events, but I can’t and don’t want to forget!  I NEED to remember them so perhaps some day I can help someone else.

I remember New Year’s Day when I was 12 and was just beginning to grow into womanhood, the Grunge noticed hair growth where it normally should be on a girl, but he said he was having none of that, so he called his step-sister to come over and “get rid of ALL hair below the neck.”  She was terrified of him and obeyed without question never looking at him.  All I can tell you is that, even though she tried to be gentle, hair removal fucking hurts!  I tried to talk to her, but all she would say was “I’m sorry, he did this to me when we were children too.”  OMG!!!  How many lives has this evil man destroyed?

After Logan helped me escape from him, I tried to contact her but she wouldn’t have anything to do with me.  I worry about her damaged life and want so much to help her.

On a different note, I am back at work and have found lots of books I want to read.  And Sister Thomasina told me I can come back to her butt kicking class when the doctor signs my release and my stitches come out.  Thought about taking them out myself, but that won’t get my release signed.

I’ve met with Sister Thomasina for tea and the occasional beer at her favorite pub.  I decided that I would try some of the pub food, and have found that haggis is truly repulsive as is tripe.  But I have found that they have a salad that has walnuts, cranberries, goat cheese, spinach and lettuce that is absolutely delicious.  They also have a steak sand that is mouthwateringly wonderful!!!  I felt like such a hog!

Logan is getting his “home office” set up and even has these partitions he uses as office walls.  He is so fussy and it’s hilarious to watch him getting everything in its proper place.  I, as a joke, put his lamp on the opposite corner of his desk than where he put it, and he was so flustered.  I always knew he was very picky, but this is OCD at its most intense, I believe.  Even his pens must be exactly the same.

Christmas was quiet.  We celebrated in my hospital room and I gave Logan a Pink Flamingo coffee mug, and he gave me the most wonderful scarf!  It is cashmere and so soft and so warm.  Perfect!  One of the nurses has taken it upon herself to teach me how to crochet.  WOW!  THAT is a LOT harder than it looks, but it’s also a lot of fun learning something new.

Time for my next appointment, so until next time…Thank you for reading.

Floods of Memories!

I must apologize for being absent for the last several days.  I followed Sister Thomasina’s advice, and began writing about my life with the Grunge.  So many memories and so many things I had blocked for so long came flooding back to my mind!  It was more than I could handle all at once, and when Logan told me that I had gone back into my “FUCK OFF AND LEAVE ME ALONE” mode, I realized that maybe I had opened Pandora’s box.  Now I have to try to figure out what to do with all the demons that have been turned loose in my mind.

I am ashamed to say that I resorted to my former coping methods and ended up with more scars.  I know, I know, self destructive behavior is not going to solve the issues.  But in the end, I will have escaped the torments remembered, right?

I brought my laptop to Sister Thomasina’s apartment and sat at her table to write out all that was within me while she crocheted a sweater for a gorilla or something like that (it was HUGE).  Without realizing it, I wrote out everything I could remember and yet my fingers couldn’t keep up, but I couldn’t stop the flow.  Wrote for four hours straight without even stopping to pee or eat.  I did sip water through a straw so I didn’t have to stop.

The words and visions kept coming until I was literally drenched in sweat and shaking so bad my spelling just sucked.  When I finally was too exhausted to go on writing, I locked myself in the bathroom and just cried.  Yes, I did pee first.  I didn’t want to go home because I knew the memories would keep attacking me, but I knew I had to go home (baby steps).

I haven’t slept in 3 days now, even with meds, and haven’t been able to stop shaking.   My boss sent me an email reminding me that the office would be closed this week and next week but I will still get paid.  That was a positive.

Logan has been so understanding and has done his best to help me, even going out of his way to decorate our flat for Christmas.  He understands because he endured the same things I did and even worse, yet he is more focused on my well-being instead of his own.  I don’t know how he doesn’t fall apart like I do or how he keeps his sanity or even why he would want me to be in his life, much less sharing his flat.

I feel so lost right now, and I know that is part of the processing, but I just want to be normal, if there is such a thing.

Baby Steps

Still haven’t heard a peep out of Vera since I told her that little nugget about my past and that hurts.  But I can’t control what she does with the information, I can only learn to keep making baby steps forward.  So far, the some steps have been easy and exciting, and some have been horribly reflective, and some have just been difficult because I’m still trying to understand it all.

As painful as the past may have been, I am actually grateful that it happened, and this will sound idiotically silly, because now I am so appreciative of so many small kindnesses that I believe many take for granted.  Yesterday, I was reading while I was walking to the coffee shop and a HUGE man came out of the door right when I got to the door and I got knocked down with my stuff scattering everywhere.  At first I was terrified, because this guy was HUGE (Shrek huge).  But he was so nice.  He helped me up and helped me get all my stuff back then bought me a gift card to the coffee shop so I could have as much coffee as I wanted for a whole month!  And he just kept apologizing and want to make sure I was okay.  He was so sweet.  I thanked him and assured him I was okay.  Then when I got ready to leave, the shop clerk handed me an envelope that the guy had left for me.  In it was $200 and a note telling me how sorry he was and to please use the money for something I would enjoy.

Sister Thomasina told me of a group that meets in the basement of the church for people like me.  I figured it was just another one of those “Learn to GET OVER IT” groups, and, once again, I was wrong.  These were people who I had a lot in common with.  Their tormentors were beasts who are or were wastes of molecules.  How can people become such monsters?  Why would they choose to be so horrible?

The hardest part I had with this group was when the facilitator said at some point we MUST be able to forgive them for all they had done to us.  Is she KIDDING?  FORGIVE the GRUNGE for my daily fucks and torments?  How could that even be possible?

Anyway, aside from that, my last several days have been filled with working, butt-kicking classes, and discovering what all is around our flat.  There are some pretty cool places around us.  There’s this little grocer on the corner where I stop every few days to keep fruits stocked for lunch.  The owner always calls me his little ray of sunshine and makes me smile and blush, especially when his wife comes out wiping her hands on her apron and gives me a piece of fresh Dutch Apple Crumble to take with me.  They are so adorable!

One of the books I’ve been reading is called The Hobbit, and one of my favorite parts is where Gandalf tells Lady Galadriel, “Saruman thinks it is through great power that evil is kept at bey.  But I have found that it’s in the small acts of kindness and love.”  How better to make the world a better place than to share in those small acts of kindness and love?

Even so, I cannot forgive the Grunge!  Not by a long shot!

 

When The Darkness Comes…

I explained my “time outs” to my therapist, those times when I kept losing hours without realizing it was happening.  So we’re going to try a different med called Effexor in smaller doses to see if that helps.  She told me it could take up to three weeks to before I would be able to tell a difference.  So the journey takes a new step.

I felt like I needed to have another heart-to-heart with Sister Thomasina since I haven’t heard a peep out of Vera since I told her that little speck of my life.  I feel so guilty for scaring her so badly.  I just wanted her to know that she was not alone in her pain and misery and that we could help each other find the light again.

Sister Thomasina met with me after class and even invited me in to her apartment for tea.  I couldn’t help myself, the tears started, then the snot joined in, and before I could stop it, I was sobbing so hard that I couldn’t speak.  Sister Thomasina was amazing.  She got up, got a bath cloth and ran warm water over it. Then she came over and told me to go ahead and let it out, but to please keep the fluids in the cloth because the sofa belonged to the church and not her.  Then she just started humming some soft tune and held me.

Finally, I was able to tell her that I felt like the darkness was creeping back over me and I was having thoughts I really shouldn’t.  I was SO angry with myself for letting the darkness come back.  I told her about my dreams and how I was paralyzed and sweating and didn’t think I could take any more of it.  She took my face in her hands, wiped my face with the snotty cloth, and said “Darkness can hide many things because they want us to think of them as being bigger than they really are.  But watch this.”  Then she walked over, turned out the lights, and came back and sat down after she apparently stepped on her cat’s tail (I almost pooed myself when it screeched). She said, “What can you see?”  I told her that I couldn’t see anything.  It was SO dark in her apartment that I couldn’t even see my finger touching the bridge of my nose.

Then she lit a candle.  And she said, “Darkness can hide everything EXCEPT light.  And within you is the love that is LIGHT.”  I thought about the scars on my neck and arms and thought of how many times I tried to give into the darkness, even begging the darkness to take me.  But there I sat staring at the light of that candle.  Darkness can threaten me, the memories of the Grunge can torment me, the dream can attack me, but the light will not dim if I can help it.

Darkness CAN NEVER hide light!

Then There Are Days…

Haven’t been able to sleep much over the last few days and I believe it’s beginning to take its toll.  I was in the shower this morning enjoying the steaming hot water, next thing I remember was realizing the water was cold and I only had one pit shaved.  When I looked at the clock, I had lost almost an hour (not to mention the 40 gallons of hot water in the tank).  Did manage to finish the grooming, goosebumps and all, and had hot tea to warm up again.  It’s days and weeks like this that make me think I must be going insane.  I mean, what would have happened if I had blanked out in a crosswalk?

I didn’t call Logan about today’s episode, because I feel like such a burden already because he takes care of me when he endured far worse than I did, instead I went to work and during my lunch I took my sandwich to the roof and sat in the fresh air to eat my Turkey and Swiss sandwich and my Cheetos (I LOVE Cheetos!!!).  When I finished my lunch, I looked over the edge of the roof and I thought, “If I stepped off, I’ll bet I would fly.”  I felt as if I was a stranger in my own body.  I stepped up onto the ledge.  I felt the cool air blowing and the only thing I can remember making me step back down was the thought that the breeze was blowing my skirt up and that guy across the street just got a great look at my panda panties.  I saw him staring at me through his window (kinda like a horny teenager looks at their first porn picture) so I smiled and went back down to my books.

I’ve been going to Sister Thomasina’s Butt Kicking Women’s Self Defense classes and feel physically stronger.  After last night’s class though, she caught me afterwards and asked if I was okay.  I told her about the nightmares and feeling really off lately so we talked for a long time.  Well, I talked and she listened mostly.  I told her that some days I feel like I’m on this earth for a reason, but some days (more than not) I feel as though I don’t belong here.  She didn’t laugh at me at all.  She simply told me that each one of us has a specific purpose on this earth.  So now I’m trying to figure out what my purpose for existing could possibly be.  Sister Thomasina has urged me to tell my story, but there are two things stopping that idea:  First, I’m not sure anyone would actually give a damn or believe it happened.  Second, I don’t know if I can stand reliving all those years again.

I passed by a dumpster on my walk home and the stench was just like the breath of The Grunge!

Met up with Vera again at the coffee shop.  We talked and caught up.  Found out she’s in a place for abused women and comes out randomly with her sponsor to reintegrate safely into a new environment.  She told me that her ex had tried to kill her and got put in jail, but is due to be released in a few months.  So she’s afraid he’ll find her.  I told her about the Women’s Self Defense Class and she said she would think about it.

Vera asked me if I had ever been afraid of someone.  I told her that I had been tortured and raped by my own father every single day (sometimes multiple times a day) for 10 years.  I told her that when I was 14, he got me pregnant and made me abort the baby then raped me again within an hour of getting home from the abortion.  She got very quiet and said she had to go.  So why should I tell my story if it’s going to terrify people?

I don’t know what to do.

Got home and Logan, true to form, had fixed dinner.  We had Filet Mignon with green beans and salad.  AND he had put candles on the table so we could eat by candlelight.  AND he brought be a single tulip.  I asked him what was the special occasion for all this, and he said, “You have survived and been free for a whole month now.  THAT is worth celebrating!”

Some days….I don’t feel free.  Some days…..I wonder “If I step off the edge, would I fly?”

 

Is It Real?

Last night was HORRIBLE!!!!!  The nightmares were so real!  It was like I had gone back in time and he had me all over again.  I laid in my bed gushing sweat like a fountain and could not move.  I couldn’t scream or speak and could barely breathe.  My heart was pounding like it would explode.  And all I could do was lay there and let it happen, just like I had to for so many years.  I wasn’t sure if I was dreaming or if

I don’t remember going to sleep and I don’t remember when the episode started or ended. But when it did end, I RAN to Logan’s room and dove onto his bed.  He talked me down and we got up, he made me shower, then we sat on the sofa with the tea he had made for us.

This morning when I woke up, I was completely freaked out and exhausted!  Logan told me to stay home, he called out, and he spent time tending to me.  I don’t deserve a brother like Logan who isn’t repulsed by such a weirded out, screwed up, fucking freaked out sister like I am.

Today Is Strange

For most of my life, sleep has been difficult.  I would sleep for a couple of hours then the Grunge would wake me up for “fun time.”  So most of my life has been spent sleeping very little wondering what “fun” the Grunge had in store for me.

The first time the Grunge took an interest in me was three days after my oldest sister (who had just turned 16) hung herself in the coat closet by the front door.  At least, that’s the story we got.  I had just turned 11, and the Grunge decided it was my turn because I was “ripe for the picking.”  He tied me, and all I can tell you, more parts of me hurt than I knew existed.  This went on two, sometimes three times a week from the day I turned 11 until my brother and I ran away when I was 19.  The more he would drink, the more often it would happen.  Sometimes he even let his poker buddies have me when he couldn’t pay what he owed them.

Logan told me that the same would happen to him too.  The Grunge did not care WHO he took to satisfy himself as long as he got his “needs” taken care of.  Sadly, we all knew the Grunge was hurting us, and we were afraid to say anything or do anything because he told us no one would believe us.

When Logan told me the Grunge had died, I didn’t know what to feel.  That night I didn’t sleep because I kept expecting to hear him grunting up the hallway to my room.  But Logan has assured me that the Grunge cannot hurt us anymore.  Last night, I dozed off and woke up 14 hours later.  FOURTEEN hours of solid sleep!  I don’t even remember dreaming.  I wasn’t drenched in sweat.  My underwear was still on and was on correctly.  There were not bruises or bite marks on me.  And for the first time, I felt good!  I took a long hot shower and didn’t worry about the Grunge watching me or waiting for me to step out so he could towel me off.

This morning, I actually looked in the mirror and saw my face in sunlight for the first time!  I got to brush my teeth, not because I was trying to wash away the nastiness, but because it felt good to just brush them.

None of this may seem like a big deal to anyone else, but this is a HUMUNGOUS deal for me.  For the first time, I actually feel safe!