waiting.
that is how i feel lately.
yesterday marked 37 weeks.
full term. this means i have a fully developed human baby sitting in my body, also waiting.
for what, i'm not sure.
i wonder if he is the one who gets to choose when to come.
everyone told me the last month would be the hardest. that i would be uncomfortable, huge, impatient, and desperate for him to come out.
yeah, i'm actually doing okay in that department. this is the most comfortable i have been during this whole pregnancy.
even with seven trips to the bathroom every night.
even though every time i stand up, i feel like my arms will rip off from supporting the enormous belly weight.
even with the sharp pelvic pain of him burrowing deeper into my crotch.
i can do this for three more weeks, easy.
the house becomes cleaner and more organized each day. yesterday my mom and i started getting the nursery ready, arranging adorable white furniture, soft blankets, and miniature clothes. later today i'm going to start on the mobile and tomorrow my grandma is helping us sew a bunting to match the crib bedding.
the rest of the house is also getting the full treatment. i have several chandeliers, a shelf, and some pictures to hang in the dining room. if remy takes three more weeks to get here, my house is finally going to be decorated.
waiting, waiting.
as this whole ordeal comes to an end, i have been looking back and reflecting on the beginning. not the beginning of pregnancy, but before that, the reasons travis and i decided it was time to add a third member to our little family.
you may remember how reluctant i was to get pregnant. i didn't even know for sure if i ever would. part of me thinks i had a small premonition of how difficult it would be, and that i kind of knew i needed to be finished with school and other things first. travis and i both agreed that it's a good thing we didn't know how awful this would all be, or else we wouldn't have been brave enough to do it.
as i have said before, just before getting married and then afterwards, i felt a great deal of pressure to get pregnant. it seemed every time we went to a family dinner at travis's parents or grandparents', all i heard was, "so when are you guys going to get started on that baby?" one family member even told me i was being selfish with my body by not getting pregnant right away. i was so confused. why didn't my goals to finish my degree seem as important as getting knocked up? what was the rush and why was it everyone's business? from then on, even harmless teasing left me angry and defensive.
any time travis held a baby, i felt terrified and angry. and jealous. i started feeling that if we did have a baby, i would always come second with travis. you may remember that our first year of marriage was kind of a train wreck, that we were both insecure and anxious. this pressure i felt to get pregnant only added to the strain. it wasn't that travis was pressuring me; we both knew we weren't in a place to start adding kids to the mix, but travis was worried about all my claims to never want to have a baby, and i was terrified that he would love that baby more than me. thank goodness for counseling and learning that my insecurity stemmed from PTSD and could be managed.
another thing, a big thing, that started changing the way i felt about having a baby was the infancy class i took for my psych degree. and here's the huge nerd coming out in me. it was funny, because i was signed up for an adult lifespan class, a class i was looking forward to, but then the enrollment was too low, so the class was cancelled at the last minute and i had to scramble to find another class. the only class left, was, you guessed it, an infancy development class. i was devastated. imagine my shock to find that it was one of my favorite classes. turned out learning about babies' brains was fascinating. i started paying more attention to the babies travis's little sister nannied, watching for the things i was learning in my class. i started thinking, it might be cool to have one of those little things around all the time to observe and learn from. i could even do some of the experiments i was learning about in class! yeah, my desire to have a baby all began with the excitement of having a subject on whom to observe and test theories. what can i say, i love to learn.
when i started feeling this way, i decided maybe travis should know. i will never forget that day. we were doing yard work together on a hot august afternoon. i was spreading mulch around our flowerbeds and travis was in the back of his truck shoveling the earthy smelling mixture out to me.
"so travis." i started. "i have been thinking."
"okay." he said, nervously, because usually conversations starting this way lead to me asking him to do some awful chore.
"yeah, i think we should have a baby."
he put the shovel down, mouth gaping open. i laughed uncontrollably, which i'm sure only added to travis's shock and suspicion that his wife had been switched out by body snatchers.
"well, not right now. not until i graduate and work for a bit. so probably in a year from now."
travis was still not speaking. it took another half hour to convince him i was serious.
so that was the tentative plan. we spoke of it on and off, mostly off, but i kind of always had this internal countdown ticking in my head.
then in april following that august, we attended a temple marriage for one of my cousins.
i know that the marriage was all about the eternal union of two people, having nothing really to do with travis and me, but the only message i really heard in that room was that someone was waiting to join our family. that feeling was one of the strongest and most direct i've ever felt.
the rest of the day, travis and i pointedly avoided talking about it. we went to the mall to kill time before my cousin's reception, and finally i asked.
"so travis. nice ceremony in the temple today, huh?"
he looked at me out of the corner of his eye. "yeah, very nice."
"lots of emotion in that room." i said. "you feel anything in particular?"
"what? no. nothing really." he said, smiling.
"yeah, me neither." i agreed.
and we both knew we were still on for august.
then i graduated from college and started that job as an adolescent substance abuse counselor. one of the hardest jobs i've ever worked. i started to feel that if i could wrangle 16 kids with serious addictions, emotional issues, and family problems, having just one of my own, who i was in charge of teaching how to be a good person, wouldn't be so difficult after all.
oh and there was also a conversation i had with my parents, where i cried to them about how i didn't want to have a baby, that it was too scary and unknown, and did i even have to? my dad told me that there's nothing quite like watching his daughter play the guitar and sing for him. my mom told me she thought i would be a wonderful, mother with my own ways of doing things. their confidence in me really made all the difference. people have always told me that travis will make such a great father, and they are right, but i kind of always felt i was too much of a mess to be a mother to anyone.
so last august rolled around and i found myself making an appointment to have my IUD removed.
a week later i was pregnant.
and the rest was misery, oh i mean history.
just a little joke for you there.
this journey has already taught me all kinds of things i didn't know i didn't know, and it's only the beginning.
i doubt i'm ready for any of it.
but at least the house is clean, we have a car seat, the nursery is getting there, and travis and i are more solid than ever before.
how much more ready can you be, right?
also, my thighs are getting pretty huge.
three more weeks of waiting.
who knows, maybe less?
xo
Showing posts with label PTSD. Show all posts
Showing posts with label PTSD. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 16, 2013
Wednesday, March 27, 2013
where sunflowers grow: part II
so last summer, about a month before i got pregnant, back when i was blissfully ignorant of how miserable a person can be, i wrote {this post} about finding the good in the bad, how sometimes sunflowers grow in patches of weeds. during some of the worst times during this pregnancy, i have tried really, really hard to think about where sunflowers grow. because i have to believe this terrible trial happened for a reason and that some good came out of it. especially after days like yesterday.
yesterday was not a good day.
i guess this really starts last week, when i had a scary panic attack. nausea-wise, it was a rough day. compared to a few months ago, it wasn't bad at all, but i was still feeling pretty yucky. i went pee in the upstairs bathroom at my parents' and thought i might throw up. i have thrown up so many times in that toilet, and for some reason, it just freaked me out that night. right after going pee, travis and i got in our car to drive home. he asked me how i was doing and i said, "oh man, i thought i was going to puke in there."
and then i started to cry.
then the whole bit, hyperventilating, heart pounding, legs going numb, feeling dizzy, etc. the usual song and dance of my panic attacks.
travis, who was confused at first about how his wife had gone from completely calm to this person who couldn't breathe, pulled the car over and hugged me while i sobbed. helped me slow my breathing down and get everything under control again.
"you're okay collette. you aren't throwing up anymore. you aren't going to throw up." he kept telling me. as i sit here and type this, i'm starting to cry because of how real that fear is, that i'm going to go back to being that person who is trapped in a body that won't keep food down, a body that doesn't work right, no matter what you try, no matter what meds you take. those months were unbelievably isolating and terrifying.
then a few days later.
travis and i were sitting on our couch, just hanging out, and we made a couple of jokes about our non-existent sex life.
then we went upstairs to get dressed to leave, and i just stood there in the closet, sobbing my eyes out.
again, travis was confused about his seemingly calm wife turning into a blubbering mess in a matter of minutes.
i was just filled with this hot rage that our lives have been so altered by hyperemesis and that neither of us had any control over any of it.
so then yesterday.
i had a dentist appointment for a tooth i had chipped on sunday. after eating dinner, i realized there was a jagged hole in one of my molars. uhgggg, a trip to the dentist, something i have been dreading, because i had a terrible time taking care of my teeth during the vomiting. just putting the toothbrush in my mouth was enough to send me to the toilet. i remember nights, trying to get myself to bed after forcing down that bowl of cereal, and then brushing my teeth. feeling the cereal coming back up, starting to sweat and turn green and travis saying, "oh no, you're so close to going to sleep, come on, you can do it!" and then throwing up the cereal and having to go back downstairs and try to eat again. so i wasn't able to take very good care of my teeth and i knew i'd be paying the price eventually.
got to the dentist. did the whole, "how's the pregnancy going?" "oh it's been pretty hard, i threw up a lot." trying not to be overly dramatic about it, and then wishing i could just scream to him that it's been living hell and i can't believe i could live feeling like i was going to die for that many months. and then he's like, yeah, well my sister had tough pregnancies and she ended up having five kids. plus she had preeclampsia, so try having that plus being sick! ...good thing pregnancy makes you so tired, or i think i would punch a lot of faces.
so then he numbs me up and starts drilling on the tooth. saying, "oh this should be quick and easy.... oh wait."
and you're all numb and drooly and you're like, "whaa? wha's going on??"
he tells you he can tell you vomited a lot. and that the acid from the vomit has worn away the tooth and that was why the tooth crumbled away, and it's now in the nerve and you need a root canal.
"yeah, vomit is pretty rough on your teeth." he says.
like he even knows.
he didn't look at the rest of my teeth and i really don't want him to. a few months before i got pregnant, i had a cleaning and my teeth were perfect, no problems, no cavities. now my teeth are chipping and filled with decay?
i barely made it out of the office before bursting into tears. not because i need a root canal, even though that will be a long and uncomfortable day. i cried all the way home because i feel so angry, so betrayed by my body, so upset that i did it, i faced my fear of pregnancy and it was harder and more miserable than i ever could have imagined. i'm so angry that i had to learn these big words, hyperemesis gravidarum and that even though i'm not throwing up anymore, that i'm doing better, my teeth are paying the price. that i have panic attacks when i feel extra nauseated. that the decision to give remington a sibling isn't going to be a simple, happy thing.
angry angry angry.
but the piece of me that demands i see the whole situation and not just the bad parts, that annoying voice that insists good things have come from this, reminds me of a few important things.
remember that PTSD i have as a result of sexual assault? and how i have a hard time believing that the people i love most and who love me, actually do love me? specifically, my parents and travis. it hasn't completely "gone away" but it is completely different now.
quick recap. after the assault, i looked at myself in a different way. i felt dirty, used. i remember on a trip to our cabin, looking through the screen door at my family sitting by the fire outside, and feeling that i wasn't worthy to sit with them, that i was somehow tainted. i believed that my parents saw me as something disgusting and that they couldn't possibly love me the same way ever again.
it sounds irrational, i know, but this is how i have felt for a long time. part of me knew my parents loved me, but the other part just knew i wasn't worthy of their love.
so when i became so sick i couldn't care for myself anymore, my mom was the first to understand. i suddenly was terrified to be away from her, because she seemed to get it in a way no one else did, that i had severe food aversions, that having to smell just about anything would make me sicker. she was the first person i really broke down in front of after vomiting. she stroked my back and hair while i sobbed to her that i couldn't do this anymore, that i couldn't survive, i wanted out. i had heard so many things that made it worse, like "eat crackers" or "everyone gets sick when they are pregnant" that i was afraid to be around anyone, because those comments were un-validating (is that a word?) and made everything harder. i just wanted to be around my mom, because she understood how sick i was without me having to prove anything to her.
i also started to see how much my dad loves me. which i know, shouldn't seem like that big of a deal, but it is. with travis having to work so much, i couldn't be alone, so, as i've said, i moved in with my parents. every morning, my dad would cheerily greet me with, "good morning pumpkin!" and then ask what i thought i could eat for breakfast. if i threw it up, he would try to cheer me up and re-feed me. he distracted me with things to laugh at, like watching seinfeld together or making jokes. he gave the perfect combination of sympathy and a can-do attitude, always telling me, "you're doing great, babe! just keep going!" my dad also kept me from going insane, taking me on small outings to the grocery store when i felt up to it and on drives to get out of the dreary january weather. both my parents planned their lives around taking care of me, putting off trips and dates, and cooking something i would be able to keep down, which was no small feat, considering it changed almost daily. nothing could have "fixed" the situation, but their complete support and concern made all the difference.
then, travis. that man has made so many quiet sacrifices. before this all happened, i had a hard time believing i came first with him or that he could possibly love me. (again, seems like a no-brainer, i mean, the guy married me, obviously he loves me, but the PTSD has a way of tricking me into believing a man could only want me for my body and that i'm not a priority. and this is the quick version.) after going through this pregnancy with travis, i have absolutely no doubts about his love for me. between all the things he has done, like caring for me physically, taking charge of everything i couldn't do, including things like the 45 minute phone call it took to pay off my student loan, and let's me honest, basically doing everything for me. and then the big things, the things i'll never forget, like watching him argue with the doctor that week we rushed into the ER and then L&D a few days later. the doctor was talking over me, while i was laying helpless in that hospital bed, saying this was normal and that i would probably start feeling better soon. travis wasn't having it and he interrupted that doctor.
"she can't eat. anything. i warm up plain noodles for her and put butter on them and that is all she has been able to eat for weeks. something is not right here."
that was the point when the doctor started to talk about getting hydration for me and that if things didn't improve, we would go to a PICC line.
how on earth could i not believe in travis's love for me after all of that?
now i am able to have a panic attack in front of travis and allow him for comfort me, something that before, i would have hid from him and handled it on my own, which would make it worse.
these examples are only a tiny picture of all that my parents and travis have done for me during this pregnancy. and yes, i'm so very angry that this happened to my life. but how selfish would i be if i didn't recognize the incredible things that came along too? for the first time since i was that fourteen year old girl, i know without a doubt of my parents' love for me. i know without a doubt that travis loves me and that i come first with him. i have also learned how sure God's love for me is and that He is always there. these are some of the most important truths i could need to know.
i am angry that this happened to me and i don't understand why it had to be this way.
but i still believe sunflowers will grow in the patches of weeds that seem so awful. and we will look back and feel thankful for the very things that we struggled with.
xo
yesterday was not a good day.
i guess this really starts last week, when i had a scary panic attack. nausea-wise, it was a rough day. compared to a few months ago, it wasn't bad at all, but i was still feeling pretty yucky. i went pee in the upstairs bathroom at my parents' and thought i might throw up. i have thrown up so many times in that toilet, and for some reason, it just freaked me out that night. right after going pee, travis and i got in our car to drive home. he asked me how i was doing and i said, "oh man, i thought i was going to puke in there."
and then i started to cry.
then the whole bit, hyperventilating, heart pounding, legs going numb, feeling dizzy, etc. the usual song and dance of my panic attacks.
travis, who was confused at first about how his wife had gone from completely calm to this person who couldn't breathe, pulled the car over and hugged me while i sobbed. helped me slow my breathing down and get everything under control again.
"you're okay collette. you aren't throwing up anymore. you aren't going to throw up." he kept telling me. as i sit here and type this, i'm starting to cry because of how real that fear is, that i'm going to go back to being that person who is trapped in a body that won't keep food down, a body that doesn't work right, no matter what you try, no matter what meds you take. those months were unbelievably isolating and terrifying.
then a few days later.
travis and i were sitting on our couch, just hanging out, and we made a couple of jokes about our non-existent sex life.
then we went upstairs to get dressed to leave, and i just stood there in the closet, sobbing my eyes out.
again, travis was confused about his seemingly calm wife turning into a blubbering mess in a matter of minutes.
i was just filled with this hot rage that our lives have been so altered by hyperemesis and that neither of us had any control over any of it.
so then yesterday.
i had a dentist appointment for a tooth i had chipped on sunday. after eating dinner, i realized there was a jagged hole in one of my molars. uhgggg, a trip to the dentist, something i have been dreading, because i had a terrible time taking care of my teeth during the vomiting. just putting the toothbrush in my mouth was enough to send me to the toilet. i remember nights, trying to get myself to bed after forcing down that bowl of cereal, and then brushing my teeth. feeling the cereal coming back up, starting to sweat and turn green and travis saying, "oh no, you're so close to going to sleep, come on, you can do it!" and then throwing up the cereal and having to go back downstairs and try to eat again. so i wasn't able to take very good care of my teeth and i knew i'd be paying the price eventually.
got to the dentist. did the whole, "how's the pregnancy going?" "oh it's been pretty hard, i threw up a lot." trying not to be overly dramatic about it, and then wishing i could just scream to him that it's been living hell and i can't believe i could live feeling like i was going to die for that many months. and then he's like, yeah, well my sister had tough pregnancies and she ended up having five kids. plus she had preeclampsia, so try having that plus being sick! ...good thing pregnancy makes you so tired, or i think i would punch a lot of faces.
so then he numbs me up and starts drilling on the tooth. saying, "oh this should be quick and easy.... oh wait."
and you're all numb and drooly and you're like, "whaa? wha's going on??"
he tells you he can tell you vomited a lot. and that the acid from the vomit has worn away the tooth and that was why the tooth crumbled away, and it's now in the nerve and you need a root canal.
"yeah, vomit is pretty rough on your teeth." he says.
like he even knows.
he didn't look at the rest of my teeth and i really don't want him to. a few months before i got pregnant, i had a cleaning and my teeth were perfect, no problems, no cavities. now my teeth are chipping and filled with decay?
i barely made it out of the office before bursting into tears. not because i need a root canal, even though that will be a long and uncomfortable day. i cried all the way home because i feel so angry, so betrayed by my body, so upset that i did it, i faced my fear of pregnancy and it was harder and more miserable than i ever could have imagined. i'm so angry that i had to learn these big words, hyperemesis gravidarum and that even though i'm not throwing up anymore, that i'm doing better, my teeth are paying the price. that i have panic attacks when i feel extra nauseated. that the decision to give remington a sibling isn't going to be a simple, happy thing.
angry angry angry.
but the piece of me that demands i see the whole situation and not just the bad parts, that annoying voice that insists good things have come from this, reminds me of a few important things.
remember that PTSD i have as a result of sexual assault? and how i have a hard time believing that the people i love most and who love me, actually do love me? specifically, my parents and travis. it hasn't completely "gone away" but it is completely different now.
quick recap. after the assault, i looked at myself in a different way. i felt dirty, used. i remember on a trip to our cabin, looking through the screen door at my family sitting by the fire outside, and feeling that i wasn't worthy to sit with them, that i was somehow tainted. i believed that my parents saw me as something disgusting and that they couldn't possibly love me the same way ever again.
it sounds irrational, i know, but this is how i have felt for a long time. part of me knew my parents loved me, but the other part just knew i wasn't worthy of their love.
so when i became so sick i couldn't care for myself anymore, my mom was the first to understand. i suddenly was terrified to be away from her, because she seemed to get it in a way no one else did, that i had severe food aversions, that having to smell just about anything would make me sicker. she was the first person i really broke down in front of after vomiting. she stroked my back and hair while i sobbed to her that i couldn't do this anymore, that i couldn't survive, i wanted out. i had heard so many things that made it worse, like "eat crackers" or "everyone gets sick when they are pregnant" that i was afraid to be around anyone, because those comments were un-validating (is that a word?) and made everything harder. i just wanted to be around my mom, because she understood how sick i was without me having to prove anything to her.
i also started to see how much my dad loves me. which i know, shouldn't seem like that big of a deal, but it is. with travis having to work so much, i couldn't be alone, so, as i've said, i moved in with my parents. every morning, my dad would cheerily greet me with, "good morning pumpkin!" and then ask what i thought i could eat for breakfast. if i threw it up, he would try to cheer me up and re-feed me. he distracted me with things to laugh at, like watching seinfeld together or making jokes. he gave the perfect combination of sympathy and a can-do attitude, always telling me, "you're doing great, babe! just keep going!" my dad also kept me from going insane, taking me on small outings to the grocery store when i felt up to it and on drives to get out of the dreary january weather. both my parents planned their lives around taking care of me, putting off trips and dates, and cooking something i would be able to keep down, which was no small feat, considering it changed almost daily. nothing could have "fixed" the situation, but their complete support and concern made all the difference.
then, travis. that man has made so many quiet sacrifices. before this all happened, i had a hard time believing i came first with him or that he could possibly love me. (again, seems like a no-brainer, i mean, the guy married me, obviously he loves me, but the PTSD has a way of tricking me into believing a man could only want me for my body and that i'm not a priority. and this is the quick version.) after going through this pregnancy with travis, i have absolutely no doubts about his love for me. between all the things he has done, like caring for me physically, taking charge of everything i couldn't do, including things like the 45 minute phone call it took to pay off my student loan, and let's me honest, basically doing everything for me. and then the big things, the things i'll never forget, like watching him argue with the doctor that week we rushed into the ER and then L&D a few days later. the doctor was talking over me, while i was laying helpless in that hospital bed, saying this was normal and that i would probably start feeling better soon. travis wasn't having it and he interrupted that doctor.
"she can't eat. anything. i warm up plain noodles for her and put butter on them and that is all she has been able to eat for weeks. something is not right here."
that was the point when the doctor started to talk about getting hydration for me and that if things didn't improve, we would go to a PICC line.
how on earth could i not believe in travis's love for me after all of that?
now i am able to have a panic attack in front of travis and allow him for comfort me, something that before, i would have hid from him and handled it on my own, which would make it worse.
these examples are only a tiny picture of all that my parents and travis have done for me during this pregnancy. and yes, i'm so very angry that this happened to my life. but how selfish would i be if i didn't recognize the incredible things that came along too? for the first time since i was that fourteen year old girl, i know without a doubt of my parents' love for me. i know without a doubt that travis loves me and that i come first with him. i have also learned how sure God's love for me is and that He is always there. these are some of the most important truths i could need to know.
i am angry that this happened to me and i don't understand why it had to be this way.
but i still believe sunflowers will grow in the patches of weeds that seem so awful. and we will look back and feel thankful for the very things that we struggled with.
xo
Monday, August 6, 2012
a hard week.
sometimes you have a good week. sometimes you have an average week. sometimes you have a bad week.
and then sometimes you have a week like i had last week. where you cry every day, several times a day. including in front of your boss. and your heart just aches so much you wish you could go back to feeling numb and avoiding all feelings like you used to when you were even more of a mess.
last week my favorite kid on the unit tried to kill himself.
then after weeks of sexual harassment from male staff at my job, i reported it to my boss.
and then i quit my job.
had a panic attack in my boss's office because of all the terrible memories of sexual assault and not standing up for myself and how afraid i was to report the harassment because i know how scary repercussions can get.
i also had an ugly disagreement with an in-law that resulted in ugly words between travis and i.
and someone mowed down my wild sunflower patch.
all the while working every day and trying to keep it together while dealing with angry, entitled, messed up teenagers. i love them, but i sometimes want to yell and swear back at them. mostly at their parents for never teaching them values or boundaries or consequences.
plus travis worked 72 hours at the fire station and other than our anniversary, we didn't see much of each other last week.
does it sometimes seem like we are all just down here on this earth wounding each other?
i don't have a happy "but what about____" clause for the end of this post. today i'm just documenting the tough things that happened last week.
and hoping this week will be a little easier.
xo
and then sometimes you have a week like i had last week. where you cry every day, several times a day. including in front of your boss. and your heart just aches so much you wish you could go back to feeling numb and avoiding all feelings like you used to when you were even more of a mess.
last week my favorite kid on the unit tried to kill himself.
then after weeks of sexual harassment from male staff at my job, i reported it to my boss.
and then i quit my job.
had a panic attack in my boss's office because of all the terrible memories of sexual assault and not standing up for myself and how afraid i was to report the harassment because i know how scary repercussions can get.
i also had an ugly disagreement with an in-law that resulted in ugly words between travis and i.
and someone mowed down my wild sunflower patch.
all the while working every day and trying to keep it together while dealing with angry, entitled, messed up teenagers. i love them, but i sometimes want to yell and swear back at them. mostly at their parents for never teaching them values or boundaries or consequences.
plus travis worked 72 hours at the fire station and other than our anniversary, we didn't see much of each other last week.
does it sometimes seem like we are all just down here on this earth wounding each other?
i don't have a happy "but what about____" clause for the end of this post. today i'm just documenting the tough things that happened last week.
and hoping this week will be a little easier.
xo
Sunday, July 1, 2012
hair.
a few weeks ago i did something i'd been considering for a few months. i decided to get my hair chopped off. when i walked into the salon and told my stylist, amber, to chop it off, she was concerned. and with good reason.
"is everything going ok with your husband?" she asked, and i laughed and assured her things were great.
there is a good reason for her question. it seems that whenever i experience some kind of emotional trauma, i do drastic things to my hair.
if it pleases the court, i present exhibit A.
when i lived in hawaii, i had long, golden hair. alex, that boyfriend i always say i'll talk about and then never do, who was on his mission at the time, liked my hair long and had told me to grow it out while he was gone. in hawaii, i started realizing how much he wasn't the greatest boy for me and started trying to fall out of love with him. trying.
so, naturally, i chopped it all off and dyed it black.
i wrote alex to tell him about my new hair and these were his exact words.
"that's okay. it will grow out before i get home."
a month later, i had it cut even shorter.
that physical act of changing something he didn't want changed, really did help give me the confidence to get over him. a year or so later.
oh, and we can't forget the time i got married and had my hair bleached. as i have mentioned many a time, marriage freaked me out.
like i was saying, hair doesn't lie. my hair says that nine months ago i experienced something extremely stressful and traumatic. it also says that my roots are growing in strong and healthy.
"is everything going ok with your husband?" she asked, and i laughed and assured her things were great.
there is a good reason for her question. it seems that whenever i experience some kind of emotional trauma, i do drastic things to my hair.
if it pleases the court, i present exhibit A.
when i lived in hawaii, i had long, golden hair. alex, that boyfriend i always say i'll talk about and then never do, who was on his mission at the time, liked my hair long and had told me to grow it out while he was gone. in hawaii, i started realizing how much he wasn't the greatest boy for me and started trying to fall out of love with him. trying.
so, naturally, i chopped it all off and dyed it black.
i wrote alex to tell him about my new hair and these were his exact words.
"that's okay. it will grow out before i get home."
a month later, i had it cut even shorter.
that physical act of changing something he didn't want changed, really did help give me the confidence to get over him. a year or so later.
oh, and we can't forget the time i got married and had my hair bleached. as i have mentioned many a time, marriage freaked me out.
yikes.
yeah. so when amber asked if things were going ok with travis, she really was concerned. probably for good reason. but after i convinced her that things were fine, i was just worried my hair was getting thin and wanted to help it look healthier, she agreed to do it.
after washing my hair and settling me into the swivel chair, amber took a close look at my hair. "it looks thinner, doesn't it?" i asked her, worried about how quiet she was being. she lifted a lock of hair and showed me in the mirror.
"it's strange. "she said. and then kept looking at my roots and then the tips. "if you look here at the bottom, you can see the very last of the bleach from when we took you blonde." she motioned upward a bit more. "and here is where we dyed it back to brown. and then here is where we dyed it most recently, brown again. but the hair looks so thin, and so unhealthy. i've never seen your hair like this." she pondered over it for another few minutes. " if you look at the roots, though, these three inches are growing in thick and normal. it almost looks like you went through something really stressful or traumatic about eight or nine months ago."
eight or nine months ago, you say?
like exactly around the time i was seriously depressed and considering ending my life?
when i finally started to confront the assault and understand my PTSD?
"funny you should say that." i told her. "nine months ago i started going to counseling for some things that happened a long time ago." she smiled and made a comment about taking up the profession of a psychic or something. and recommended a multi vitamin to help my hair continue to heal.
and the thinning, sickly hair? she cut it off. literally cut off the damage my hair showed from my trauma.
like any time you have a lot of hair cut off, it felt light and free. and if you're following my metaphor here, it was more than just hair that felt lighter.
(i didn't take a proper "before" picture, apologies.
a lot more hair came off than it appears from this picture.)
hair doesn't lie.
(like how if you drug test someone's hair, it's way more accurate because the drugs stay in the hair longer. seriously.)
like i was saying, hair doesn't lie. my hair says that nine months ago i experienced something extremely stressful and traumatic. it also says that my roots are growing in strong and healthy.
a few days after my haircut, i was triggered by being somewhere that brings up awful, terrible memories. like always, i have a cycle of numbness, denial, anger, panic, and depression. i can always feel myself slipping back into the cycle and feeling powerless to stop it. but this time, as i experienced that panic and tried to breathe through it, think through the terror that overtakes everything, i remembered those three inches of healthy hair. it didn't stop the panic, the anger, or the depression that followed, but it was something to hold on to and consider.
i'm taking vitamins for the hair.
and hope for the rest.
xo
Wednesday, May 2, 2012
hard things.
a quick post.
your replies brought me to tears and helped more than you could ever know! (kell, i applied for that job and it sounds amazing!!) thank you so much for caring and writing those sincere and loving messages.
things are better.
coming to terms with graduating. it helped to shopping for a dress to wear, to buy my cap and tassel, and to send out graduation announcements. oh, and travis telling me he has a surprise graduation present for me. presents just make everything better. also, i got my resume together and applied for a grown up job, so i feel a lot better on that front.
with the PTSD, i'm just going to try to be positive. it's so easy to give all the bad stuff in our lives our full attention. i'm going to try to not put those scary things on the center of my life stage, even if i did have a scary, memory-esque nightmare a few nights ago. even if everyone seems to drive the car he drives and i see it daily and am reminded. i'm trying to give those intrusive thoughts a moment of mourning and respect to myself, and then let something else on the stage. if that makes sense at all to anyone else.
the other night, travis was at work and i was taking a break from studying. i went on a bike ride down by the lake. everything was peaceful, the sunset was breathtaking, and i had my coldplay/dave matthews pandora station playing in my ears. life is beautiful. we have to do hard things, but we can do them.
it's like that quote, right? be kind to everyone you meet for they are fighting a hard battle. or something like that.
my friend chelsea is going through hard things dealing with fertility. {here}
another of my friends is going through hard things dealing with homosexuality in a culture where it's not understood or accepted. {here}
this same friend texted me yesterday and told me to look up romans 8:16-18.
oh yeah, it's about to get bible up in here.
16 The Spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit, that we are the children of God:
your replies brought me to tears and helped more than you could ever know! (kell, i applied for that job and it sounds amazing!!) thank you so much for caring and writing those sincere and loving messages.
things are better.
coming to terms with graduating. it helped to shopping for a dress to wear, to buy my cap and tassel, and to send out graduation announcements. oh, and travis telling me he has a surprise graduation present for me. presents just make everything better. also, i got my resume together and applied for a grown up job, so i feel a lot better on that front.
with the PTSD, i'm just going to try to be positive. it's so easy to give all the bad stuff in our lives our full attention. i'm going to try to not put those scary things on the center of my life stage, even if i did have a scary, memory-esque nightmare a few nights ago. even if everyone seems to drive the car he drives and i see it daily and am reminded. i'm trying to give those intrusive thoughts a moment of mourning and respect to myself, and then let something else on the stage. if that makes sense at all to anyone else.
the other night, travis was at work and i was taking a break from studying. i went on a bike ride down by the lake. everything was peaceful, the sunset was breathtaking, and i had my coldplay/dave matthews pandora station playing in my ears. life is beautiful. we have to do hard things, but we can do them.
it's like that quote, right? be kind to everyone you meet for they are fighting a hard battle. or something like that.
my friend chelsea is going through hard things dealing with fertility. {here}
another of my friends is going through hard things dealing with homosexuality in a culture where it's not understood or accepted. {here}
this same friend texted me yesterday and told me to look up romans 8:16-18.
oh yeah, it's about to get bible up in here.
16 The Spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit, that we are the children of God:
17 And if children, then heirs; heirs of God, and joint-heirs with Christ; if so be that we suffer with him, that we may be also glorified together.
18 For I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us.
and now for one of my all time favorites, also from Romans 8:
38 For
I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor
principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come,
39 Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
we are all going through hard things. it's easy to feel alone, but we really aren't. thank you for being there for me.
phew, all that bible talk wore me out. i'm going to go and slay my last final. happy hump day!
had to balance out all that religion right?
xo
Friday, April 27, 2012
asking for help, aka getting uncomfortably personal and begging you to solve all my problems
it is too easy to become bogged down with doubts, anxiety, and worry.
why is it that when we accomplish something, our elation at success lasts such a brief moment?
was it only three weeks ago that we moved into our house and i felt that life could never get better? how does a person hold on to that joy, rather than becoming consumed with new worries and problems?
it's just been a rough week.
i really, really appreciate all your comments about bravery, because brave was the last thing i felt this week.
things are about to get pretty personal up in here.
it seemed like every single thing that could have happened to trigger my PTSD, happened in the last week. good timing too, since i have been taking a break from counseling to see how i do on my own. yeah, not doin' so hot. i want my training wheels back.
i guess it started about a month ago. but i'll back up even further than that. so the guy who assaulted me, i drive by his house to get to my parents'. he still lives there. he is unemployed, addicted to hard drugs, and not doing anything with his life. so a few months into counseling, i did something that was unprecedented. usually, i would drive by his house and pointedly not look, because i didn't want to relive those memories. this time i drove by, without thinking about it, i raised my hand to his house and flipped him off. and then started laughing uncontrollably. and then cried. and since then, every time i drive by, i flip him the bird. and sometimes add some yelling for good measure, like "screw you!" at the top of my lungs. immature? maybe. but it's the only way i have found to confront him and it makes me feel a little stronger. that small gesture is the most i have ever stood up for myself to him.
ok, so a month ago, i drove by, prepared to do my flip off, and noticed that he had just pulled in the driveway. and the panic hit in the pit of my stomach like it always does. part of me wanted to roll down my window and scream and part of me wanted to hide in a dark hole forever and ever. after that happened, it seemed like everything else just piled up on top. seeing a guy i used to date right after everything terrible happened, seeing that guy who is married with a baby on the way, seeing his eyes land on my chest the way they always used to, like that was the only thing i had that he wanted. because i believed my body was the only valuable part of me for so long.
something that seems the most unfair to me is the way sex can be a trigger. i hate that this beautiful, wonderful thing i have with travis can sometimes lead to horrible memories i locked away. shame, guilt, nausea, so many feelings i don't want to feel when we are together in that way. and they have nothing to do with travis, nothing to do with our love. then i try to hide those feelings from him, but he knows me too well. i end up lying, telling him i'm fine, and then locking myself in the bathroom to deal with my panic attacks alone. i don't think my problems should be his problems, which he completely disagrees with. he comes looking for me and is so hurt to find me hiding. this doesn't happen every time. but it happened this week and i hate hurting him and i hate that sex can do this to me.
of course, travis is so patient and sweet with me. when i lose control and he sees, i'm terrified that he will leave me. because in that moment, i want to leave myself. of course he never leaves. of course he holds my hand and helps me through it. i feel comfortable enough to cry, to be vulnerable, and i couldn't have that without his support. but then i feel guilty for putting that on his shoulders. like, doesn't he deserve someone stronger, without so much baggage?
told you this was going to be personal. i'm laughing and crying and slightly appalled at how personal this is.
also, have any of you had a really difficult time graduating from college? last night in the car, pandora played a slew of songs that i was obsessed with at different points of my college experience and i ended up bawling my eyes out. travis was pretty confused and i didn't express my feelings very well. as i have said before, college taught me so much about myself and i am so depressed to see it ending. it just seems like the end of my youth (stupid, i know) and the beginning of being an adult. and i hate all those adult options!! full time job or start popping out babies. i just feel trapped. travis asked me, "well what do you want to do with your life?" without missing a beat, i responded with, "go to the beach. (duh!)"
which, now that i think about it, was the same thing i told everyone i was going to do after high school.
gah! just having a rough time of it. can't believe only three weeks ago we moved in here and i thought life would never be hard again. #facepalm
yesterday, i got online to start the job hunt and found nothing. so then i called my doctor's office to schedule getting the IUD out. because obviously to avoid getting a job i have to get pregnant. and then luckily the doctor's office was already closed because having a baby to avoid the failure of not getting a job after spending all that money on college is obviously a bad idea. and then i think, switch it around- if you get a great job, you'll have an excuse to not have a baby because of how great the job is. plus think how rich you'll be.
... what the h??
how do i do this? how do i grow up and why is it always so hard? am i just looking at everything from a negative point of view? will i ever want to be a mother? why am i so scared of having a baby? why do i just want to hide under my covers all day?
someone just tell me what to do, kthanks.
xo
why is it that when we accomplish something, our elation at success lasts such a brief moment?
was it only three weeks ago that we moved into our house and i felt that life could never get better? how does a person hold on to that joy, rather than becoming consumed with new worries and problems?
it's just been a rough week.
i really, really appreciate all your comments about bravery, because brave was the last thing i felt this week.
things are about to get pretty personal up in here.
it seemed like every single thing that could have happened to trigger my PTSD, happened in the last week. good timing too, since i have been taking a break from counseling to see how i do on my own. yeah, not doin' so hot. i want my training wheels back.
i guess it started about a month ago. but i'll back up even further than that. so the guy who assaulted me, i drive by his house to get to my parents'. he still lives there. he is unemployed, addicted to hard drugs, and not doing anything with his life. so a few months into counseling, i did something that was unprecedented. usually, i would drive by his house and pointedly not look, because i didn't want to relive those memories. this time i drove by, without thinking about it, i raised my hand to his house and flipped him off. and then started laughing uncontrollably. and then cried. and since then, every time i drive by, i flip him the bird. and sometimes add some yelling for good measure, like "screw you!" at the top of my lungs. immature? maybe. but it's the only way i have found to confront him and it makes me feel a little stronger. that small gesture is the most i have ever stood up for myself to him.
ok, so a month ago, i drove by, prepared to do my flip off, and noticed that he had just pulled in the driveway. and the panic hit in the pit of my stomach like it always does. part of me wanted to roll down my window and scream and part of me wanted to hide in a dark hole forever and ever. after that happened, it seemed like everything else just piled up on top. seeing a guy i used to date right after everything terrible happened, seeing that guy who is married with a baby on the way, seeing his eyes land on my chest the way they always used to, like that was the only thing i had that he wanted. because i believed my body was the only valuable part of me for so long.
something that seems the most unfair to me is the way sex can be a trigger. i hate that this beautiful, wonderful thing i have with travis can sometimes lead to horrible memories i locked away. shame, guilt, nausea, so many feelings i don't want to feel when we are together in that way. and they have nothing to do with travis, nothing to do with our love. then i try to hide those feelings from him, but he knows me too well. i end up lying, telling him i'm fine, and then locking myself in the bathroom to deal with my panic attacks alone. i don't think my problems should be his problems, which he completely disagrees with. he comes looking for me and is so hurt to find me hiding. this doesn't happen every time. but it happened this week and i hate hurting him and i hate that sex can do this to me.
of course, travis is so patient and sweet with me. when i lose control and he sees, i'm terrified that he will leave me. because in that moment, i want to leave myself. of course he never leaves. of course he holds my hand and helps me through it. i feel comfortable enough to cry, to be vulnerable, and i couldn't have that without his support. but then i feel guilty for putting that on his shoulders. like, doesn't he deserve someone stronger, without so much baggage?
told you this was going to be personal. i'm laughing and crying and slightly appalled at how personal this is.
also, have any of you had a really difficult time graduating from college? last night in the car, pandora played a slew of songs that i was obsessed with at different points of my college experience and i ended up bawling my eyes out. travis was pretty confused and i didn't express my feelings very well. as i have said before, college taught me so much about myself and i am so depressed to see it ending. it just seems like the end of my youth (stupid, i know) and the beginning of being an adult. and i hate all those adult options!! full time job or start popping out babies. i just feel trapped. travis asked me, "well what do you want to do with your life?" without missing a beat, i responded with, "go to the beach. (duh!)"
which, now that i think about it, was the same thing i told everyone i was going to do after high school.
gah! just having a rough time of it. can't believe only three weeks ago we moved in here and i thought life would never be hard again. #facepalm
yesterday, i got online to start the job hunt and found nothing. so then i called my doctor's office to schedule getting the IUD out. because obviously to avoid getting a job i have to get pregnant. and then luckily the doctor's office was already closed because having a baby to avoid the failure of not getting a job after spending all that money on college is obviously a bad idea. and then i think, switch it around- if you get a great job, you'll have an excuse to not have a baby because of how great the job is. plus think how rich you'll be.
... what the h??
how do i do this? how do i grow up and why is it always so hard? am i just looking at everything from a negative point of view? will i ever want to be a mother? why am i so scared of having a baby? why do i just want to hide under my covers all day?
someone just tell me what to do, kthanks.
xo
Monday, February 27, 2012
shake it out: f & the m
ok, third post today.
just wanted to share a song that has really helped me out the past few months. it was one i'd heard a while ago, but then after starting counseling, it took on a new meaning for me. i really listened to the lyrics and they brought me to tears, and still do almost every time i hear it. one of the reasons music is so powerful is that it empathizes with us when sometimes nothing else can, and this song just hit home for me. hope it does something for you, too.
strong
two posts in the span of five hours? yes, i must have a test to study for.
but.
i just got back from counseling and i am bursting with good feelings and hope.
and since that last post was a little downer, and although i think it's important to say the good and the bad, i wanted to say a few things that are positive.
i believe in God.
not a "cold, all powerful, lighting bolt throwing, judgement pronouncing, black and white God", but in an actual being who knows me personally and cares for my every day well being.
i know in this day and age, proclaiming to believe in God can produce all kinds of feelings and negative connotations, because of so many who parade their agendas in the name of deity and actually do a great amount of harm.
i believe in a God who loves every person on this earth, regardless of what they believe, look like, or how they act. i also believe that only God knows us well enough to cast judgement on us and that when evaluating our actions, he includes mercy, empathy, and kindness toward us. this can be really hard to remember, that God is in charge of judging us, and that we are not capable of knowing what is in a person's heart. but i try to leave it to Him.
ok, so I believe in God, so what?
I am feeling really thankful to God right now.
Last week i was having a rough day. it had been two weeks since i had gone to counseling, and i knew i should probably schedule a session, but i was feeling that it was pointless. that it wouldn't change anything, and that i should just go back to avoiding, not fighting, and not trying to heal. i was feeling a lot of things and having thoughts i hadn't had in a long time. travis told me i needed to call and schedule a session, but i was avoiding it.
while i was at the library studying, my phone rang. and it was jessica, my counselor. she wanted to make sure she hadn't forgotten to book an appointment for me so she wouldn't stand me up if i came in the next day, because fridays are usually our appointment days. it worked out that she had a spot open up today.
a person could look at that small experience and chalk it up to coincidence. i mean, it wasn't like God himself called me. but i truly believe jessica was meant to be my counselor, because she is so easy to talk to and relates so well to me, and i truly believe she was meant to call me on that day, of all days, when i was so down and out.
today in counseling, i confronted things that i haven't said out loud because of how terrifying they are. but i confronted them and even though i still remember, and they are still part of me, i am stronger for facing them. i don't feel weak and incapable right now. i know that i am not alone and that God places us in each other's lives for reasons we don't always understand at first, but that help us to feel joy. i am so incredibly thankful for my life, that i am able to live here and learn things, even though at times it's painful, it's messy, and it's awful. because those things make us strong.
i am thankful for a loving God who knows me and my struggles, and who cares about them, even trivial things like getting docked five points on my orgasm paper. i am thankful for my travis. it's so scary to love someone and trust him to love all of you, but it has been so worth it. i'm thankful for family and dear friends. i'm thankful for you and for your comments of hope and believing. i talk about you in counseling and how you have really helped me to not feel so alone, so thank you.
we all really are stronger than we know.
if you ever need anything, don't hesitate to get in touch with me.
love. xo
but.
i just got back from counseling and i am bursting with good feelings and hope.
and since that last post was a little downer, and although i think it's important to say the good and the bad, i wanted to say a few things that are positive.
i believe in God.
not a "cold, all powerful, lighting bolt throwing, judgement pronouncing, black and white God", but in an actual being who knows me personally and cares for my every day well being.
i know in this day and age, proclaiming to believe in God can produce all kinds of feelings and negative connotations, because of so many who parade their agendas in the name of deity and actually do a great amount of harm.
i believe in a God who loves every person on this earth, regardless of what they believe, look like, or how they act. i also believe that only God knows us well enough to cast judgement on us and that when evaluating our actions, he includes mercy, empathy, and kindness toward us. this can be really hard to remember, that God is in charge of judging us, and that we are not capable of knowing what is in a person's heart. but i try to leave it to Him.
ok, so I believe in God, so what?
I am feeling really thankful to God right now.
Last week i was having a rough day. it had been two weeks since i had gone to counseling, and i knew i should probably schedule a session, but i was feeling that it was pointless. that it wouldn't change anything, and that i should just go back to avoiding, not fighting, and not trying to heal. i was feeling a lot of things and having thoughts i hadn't had in a long time. travis told me i needed to call and schedule a session, but i was avoiding it.
while i was at the library studying, my phone rang. and it was jessica, my counselor. she wanted to make sure she hadn't forgotten to book an appointment for me so she wouldn't stand me up if i came in the next day, because fridays are usually our appointment days. it worked out that she had a spot open up today.
a person could look at that small experience and chalk it up to coincidence. i mean, it wasn't like God himself called me. but i truly believe jessica was meant to be my counselor, because she is so easy to talk to and relates so well to me, and i truly believe she was meant to call me on that day, of all days, when i was so down and out.
today in counseling, i confronted things that i haven't said out loud because of how terrifying they are. but i confronted them and even though i still remember, and they are still part of me, i am stronger for facing them. i don't feel weak and incapable right now. i know that i am not alone and that God places us in each other's lives for reasons we don't always understand at first, but that help us to feel joy. i am so incredibly thankful for my life, that i am able to live here and learn things, even though at times it's painful, it's messy, and it's awful. because those things make us strong.
i am thankful for a loving God who knows me and my struggles, and who cares about them, even trivial things like getting docked five points on my orgasm paper. i am thankful for my travis. it's so scary to love someone and trust him to love all of you, but it has been so worth it. i'm thankful for family and dear friends. i'm thankful for you and for your comments of hope and believing. i talk about you in counseling and how you have really helped me to not feel so alone, so thank you.
we all really are stronger than we know.
if you ever need anything, don't hesitate to get in touch with me.
love. xo
PTSD and loud farts
last week was a little rough. school is kicking my butt, and overall last week i just felt insecure and anxious. my teacher docked five points from my orgasm paper, and i actually cried about it. those thoughts of you're a failure just wouldn't leave me be.
on the PTSD front, i'm also frustrated. i feel like i'm making progress with everything, but i just wonder sometimes what i expect and if it's realistic. i'm starting to realize that no amount of counseling with make everything from the past just disappear. when i first started counseling, it seemed like i was moving so fast, coming to terms with things, and there was a light at the end of the tunnel. the past month, i feel like i've moved backwards. i'm still having panic attacks, i still have a hard time feeling like the people i love, love me back, and i have felt pretty alone. rationally, i know that healing doesn't happen all at once, and that this is normal, but i just want this to all be gone, like it never happened. which i know is impossible. i've talked a lot with my counselor about turning what happened to me into a positive thing, like being able to look at the strengths i have gained or at how i could help others who are dealing with sexual abuse. but last week i just felt beat up and like i'm going to be stuck in this place forever wondering why it had to happen and how i'm ever going to be ok.
but i guess just the fact that i was able to write all of that and understand that it's what i'm feeling, is a step in the right direction. right?
on a happier note, i do have a funny story. yesterday in sunday school, travis was teaching the lesson. he was doing a great job. then the autistic kid in our class decided to lay on the floor. which is completely fine. we love this kid and enjoy having him in our class. he's a huge teddy bear. so he's laying on the floor, on his belly, and we all smile just keep going with the lesson. a few minutes later, the sweet kid lets out this ten second long, extremely loud, ... fart. like one of the loudest ones i have ever heard in my life. all of us look around at each other, including the kid's older brother, and we just start laughing. not in a mean, making fun of way, but in a i can't believe how hilarious that was, ...way. the kid's older brother is really sweet with him, always helping him calm down. he's the kid in class who doesn't have his parents around and is being raised by grandparents. he is that kid who isn't wearing the coolest clothes, the kid who has probably seen things the others haven't. the other kids don't really get him and his sarcasm, and how he tries to act cool, like he's too cool for church. the other kids don't really include him, but i watch the way he treats his sweet autistic brother and my heart melts. i always try to talk to him and make sure he knows we love him. someday he'll grow up and hopefully realize that he didn't need to be the popular kid to be a wonderful person. you know?
also, i took my first official maternity pictures. seriously, this is all i want to do all the time. this family was so fun to work with and are just beautiful people.
life is hard. but life is also good and i'm so grateful for a loving support system, faith in Jesus Christ, and for our autistic kid's loud fart to help me remember not to be so uptight, and also that it's okay to laugh at ourselves and still love ourselves. you know?
xo
on the PTSD front, i'm also frustrated. i feel like i'm making progress with everything, but i just wonder sometimes what i expect and if it's realistic. i'm starting to realize that no amount of counseling with make everything from the past just disappear. when i first started counseling, it seemed like i was moving so fast, coming to terms with things, and there was a light at the end of the tunnel. the past month, i feel like i've moved backwards. i'm still having panic attacks, i still have a hard time feeling like the people i love, love me back, and i have felt pretty alone. rationally, i know that healing doesn't happen all at once, and that this is normal, but i just want this to all be gone, like it never happened. which i know is impossible. i've talked a lot with my counselor about turning what happened to me into a positive thing, like being able to look at the strengths i have gained or at how i could help others who are dealing with sexual abuse. but last week i just felt beat up and like i'm going to be stuck in this place forever wondering why it had to happen and how i'm ever going to be ok.
but i guess just the fact that i was able to write all of that and understand that it's what i'm feeling, is a step in the right direction. right?
on a happier note, i do have a funny story. yesterday in sunday school, travis was teaching the lesson. he was doing a great job. then the autistic kid in our class decided to lay on the floor. which is completely fine. we love this kid and enjoy having him in our class. he's a huge teddy bear. so he's laying on the floor, on his belly, and we all smile just keep going with the lesson. a few minutes later, the sweet kid lets out this ten second long, extremely loud, ... fart. like one of the loudest ones i have ever heard in my life. all of us look around at each other, including the kid's older brother, and we just start laughing. not in a mean, making fun of way, but in a i can't believe how hilarious that was, ...way. the kid's older brother is really sweet with him, always helping him calm down. he's the kid in class who doesn't have his parents around and is being raised by grandparents. he is that kid who isn't wearing the coolest clothes, the kid who has probably seen things the others haven't. the other kids don't really get him and his sarcasm, and how he tries to act cool, like he's too cool for church. the other kids don't really include him, but i watch the way he treats his sweet autistic brother and my heart melts. i always try to talk to him and make sure he knows we love him. someday he'll grow up and hopefully realize that he didn't need to be the popular kid to be a wonderful person. you know?
also, i took my first official maternity pictures. seriously, this is all i want to do all the time. this family was so fun to work with and are just beautiful people.
life is hard. but life is also good and i'm so grateful for a loving support system, faith in Jesus Christ, and for our autistic kid's loud fart to help me remember not to be so uptight, and also that it's okay to laugh at ourselves and still love ourselves. you know?
xo
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
believe
you know those days when you don't believe in yourself? and you feel like you could never succeed? yeah i had one of those yesterday. sitting in my research methods class, a voice seemed to say to me, you're going to fail all your classes. you aren't going to graduate this may because you're going to fail your test next week. and if you even do graduate, you won't be able to find a job because no one would want to hire you. and don't even think about starting your own photography business, because you're a fake, and you don't know anything, and no one would ever trust you to take their pictures. then i started to think about how if all of that happens, i'll just be sitting home all day and then everyone will tell me to have a baby, which then led to my panicked thoughts of motherhood and how i'm not ready and probably never will be and if i did have a baby, i would ruin him/her because i'm not fit to be a mother.
all of these thoughts in the span of three minutes.
when i talked to travis later, i tentatively tried them out on him, telling him i felt stressed out and like i'm a failure. because jessica, my counselor, has been helping me understand how important it is to communicate with travis when i feel down, instead of just keeping it all inside like usual. travis, of course, was very understanding about everything. he reassured me that i'm not a failure, and that i have never failed at anything i really tried to do.
then he told me that i don't even have to work.
"well what am i supposed to do all day long?" i asked.
"there are quite a few seasons of desperate housewives you could re-watch." he replied.
although that sounds really enticing, i woke up this morning and decided to act. i'm afraid to say this out loud, because someone may laugh and i just care way too much about what everyone thinks of me.
i want to be a photographer.
not like a national geographics photographer who becomes famous, or someone who shoots for the new york times, or anything like that, but someone who takes pictures of families, weddings, and babies.
i have had several people caution me that it's harder than i think, which everything usually is, and that i shouldn't do it just because everyone else is doing it. well, it turns out when i have a camera in my hands, i'm pretty happy. it's like that feeling i get when i play music, like i can't get enough of it. i dream about my camera, i take it everywhere with me, it sleeps next to my bed.
this is getting a little creepy...
and i'm not looking for compliments here, although no one ever wishes not to have compliments, but what i'm trying to say is that i'm going to try for this dream. a lot of times in the past when i really wanted something, but was afraid of failure or that people would criticize me, or that i wouldn't be the best, i would just quit. not even try. but i want this to be different. i want to believe in myself. why is it so easy for us to believe we can't succeed?
so while i should have been in my weight lifting class, i created this blog. it's not perfect, and there is hardly anything on it, but it's a start.
so if you know of anyone who wants their picture taken for cheap (or you readers want pictures for free because i love people who follow my blog) please direct them to my photography blog.
this saturday i am meeting with a girl who wants me to do her wedding.
i'm terrified!
but excited.
so anyway, believe in your dreams, even though it's scary.
i was talking to some friends last week and one of them is an aspiring musician. he is really, really talented. but when people ask him what he's doing with his life, he's embarrassed to say, "i'm in a band and i play music." he is afraid they will judge him and think, who are you to be successful at what you love. i told him he should own it, and not be afraid, to have some confidence. later, a wise friend told me that i should follow my own advice. it's always easier to believe in other people, rather than yourself.
but this is a start. thanks for all your love. xo
all of these thoughts in the span of three minutes.
when i talked to travis later, i tentatively tried them out on him, telling him i felt stressed out and like i'm a failure. because jessica, my counselor, has been helping me understand how important it is to communicate with travis when i feel down, instead of just keeping it all inside like usual. travis, of course, was very understanding about everything. he reassured me that i'm not a failure, and that i have never failed at anything i really tried to do.
then he told me that i don't even have to work.
"well what am i supposed to do all day long?" i asked.
"there are quite a few seasons of desperate housewives you could re-watch." he replied.
although that sounds really enticing, i woke up this morning and decided to act. i'm afraid to say this out loud, because someone may laugh and i just care way too much about what everyone thinks of me.
i want to be a photographer.
not like a national geographics photographer who becomes famous, or someone who shoots for the new york times, or anything like that, but someone who takes pictures of families, weddings, and babies.
i have had several people caution me that it's harder than i think, which everything usually is, and that i shouldn't do it just because everyone else is doing it. well, it turns out when i have a camera in my hands, i'm pretty happy. it's like that feeling i get when i play music, like i can't get enough of it. i dream about my camera, i take it everywhere with me, it sleeps next to my bed.
this is getting a little creepy...
and i'm not looking for compliments here, although no one ever wishes not to have compliments, but what i'm trying to say is that i'm going to try for this dream. a lot of times in the past when i really wanted something, but was afraid of failure or that people would criticize me, or that i wouldn't be the best, i would just quit. not even try. but i want this to be different. i want to believe in myself. why is it so easy for us to believe we can't succeed?
so while i should have been in my weight lifting class, i created this blog. it's not perfect, and there is hardly anything on it, but it's a start.
so if you know of anyone who wants their picture taken for cheap (or you readers want pictures for free because i love people who follow my blog) please direct them to my photography blog.
this saturday i am meeting with a girl who wants me to do her wedding.
i'm terrified!
but excited.
so anyway, believe in your dreams, even though it's scary.
i was talking to some friends last week and one of them is an aspiring musician. he is really, really talented. but when people ask him what he's doing with his life, he's embarrassed to say, "i'm in a band and i play music." he is afraid they will judge him and think, who are you to be successful at what you love. i told him he should own it, and not be afraid, to have some confidence. later, a wise friend told me that i should follow my own advice. it's always easier to believe in other people, rather than yourself.
but this is a start. thanks for all your love. xo
Thursday, January 5, 2012
being brave, part II
so. what i'm going to say is pretty scary. i have been trying to get up the courage to write this for a long time.
you know how i'm all about being honest on this blog? saying the good, bad, and ugly?
i haven't been honest. i haven't been open.
i have butterflies in my stomach. i might chicken out.
i'm afraid for several reasons.
1. any person who reads this will think of me as completely different.
2. i'm afraid of backlash.
3. i don't want to be seen as a victim.
well if this is so scary, then why am i sharing? i want to share this because i know that one out of any four, if not more, women, (and yes, some men too) have gone through what i'm dealing with in some form. i want those men and women to read this and know that they aren't alone and that there is help and hope out there.
ok.
several months ago, i almost ended my life.
yes, i know what some of you may be thinking. suicide is selfish. how could you even consider doing that to your loved ones. let me tell you, if you are thinking these things, it is because you have never been so low that those things didn't matter. when the only option that sounds reasonable is for life to be over, you aren't thinking about being selfish. you're thinking of an end to your pain.
when i was 14 years old, i was sexually assaulted multiple times over a period of about six months. he was a neighbor boy, a year older than me. i thought he was going to be my first kiss.
it's a very long, messy, terrible story that i'm not really ready to share. but it involved enormous amounts of betrayal, guilt, pain, self loathing, the whole bit.
so then at 15, i actually attempted suicide. when that didn't take, i went on to date many boys who used me, belittled me, and who only proved to me that no one could be trusted and that i probably wasn't worth anything.
i have spent the past eight years cycling through repressing, remembering, shutting down, shutting others out, blaming myself, using obsessive compulsive behaviors to trick myself into feeling like i have control, denying, and trying to hide. sometimes i would really think everything was going to be ok, that i was finally over what happened. then, i would see his car, or hear a song that reminded me of him, or even on several occasions, run into him at the mall or the movies. i ran away to college and tried to forget everything, but every time i dated someone who tried to feel me up, it all came back. it was always there, just beneath the surface of my smiling confidence.
i slept through high school. my mom, concerned with my parent teacher reports of me "always sleeping through class," took me to our family doctor to test for anemia. no one knew i had depression. it didn't even cross the doctor's mind.
meanwhile, the boys who had been involved bullied me at school, peed on my house, and made their message clear that i was to keep quiet about everything. one boy who was involved used to scream "you're disgusting! whore!" when he saw me in school.
i used to see him with his girlfriend in the halls and wonder if she knew him in the same way i did. i doubted it.
i didn't know how to open up about this. poor travis wasn't sure how to handle it, but after things got really bad a few months ago, he basically "forced" me to go to counseling.
i meet all the criteria in the DSM-IV for PTSD.
my counselor's name is jessica and she is wonderful. i highly recommend therapy. i'm doing better than i have been since i was that 14 year old girl. it's just nice to have a safe place and a safe person to open up to. right now jessica is helping me to understand the things that trigger the memories and understand that the reactions i have- panic attacks, intrusive thoughts, fear, etc,- are not me, but reactions of PTSD. i've been going to counseling for about eight weeks now and it's really helping. next week, travis is going to come with me and hopefully i'll start learning how to open up to him about everything and let him in.
if you are a survivor of sexual assault or molestation, please know that your life doesn't have to be defined by what happened to you. it wasn't your fault. you don't have to live in fear or deal with it all on your own. i wouldn't have believed that a few months ago, and maybe you don't right now either, but please, please, don't think you are alone.
i know that some of you may read this and think, wow, she really over-shared this time. this is not the appropriate venue for her to work on this. to those people i say, you are part of the problem. our culture needs to address these things, instead of blaming the victim and keeping everything swept under the rug.
i want to say a quick thank you to travis. it really is a miracle that we are together. i never thought i would find a person who cared so much and was so selfless. i never dreamed i could trust someone like i trust travis.
also, a thank you to two dear friends who reminded me why i wanted to live. you both know who you are.
if you have questions or want to talk about a similar experience, please email me. collette.charles7@gmail.com.
you know how i'm all about being honest on this blog? saying the good, bad, and ugly?
i haven't been honest. i haven't been open.
i have butterflies in my stomach. i might chicken out.
i'm afraid for several reasons.
1. any person who reads this will think of me as completely different.
2. i'm afraid of backlash.
3. i don't want to be seen as a victim.
well if this is so scary, then why am i sharing? i want to share this because i know that one out of any four, if not more, women, (and yes, some men too) have gone through what i'm dealing with in some form. i want those men and women to read this and know that they aren't alone and that there is help and hope out there.
ok.
several months ago, i almost ended my life.
yes, i know what some of you may be thinking. suicide is selfish. how could you even consider doing that to your loved ones. let me tell you, if you are thinking these things, it is because you have never been so low that those things didn't matter. when the only option that sounds reasonable is for life to be over, you aren't thinking about being selfish. you're thinking of an end to your pain.
when i was 14 years old, i was sexually assaulted multiple times over a period of about six months. he was a neighbor boy, a year older than me. i thought he was going to be my first kiss.
it's a very long, messy, terrible story that i'm not really ready to share. but it involved enormous amounts of betrayal, guilt, pain, self loathing, the whole bit.
so then at 15, i actually attempted suicide. when that didn't take, i went on to date many boys who used me, belittled me, and who only proved to me that no one could be trusted and that i probably wasn't worth anything.
i have spent the past eight years cycling through repressing, remembering, shutting down, shutting others out, blaming myself, using obsessive compulsive behaviors to trick myself into feeling like i have control, denying, and trying to hide. sometimes i would really think everything was going to be ok, that i was finally over what happened. then, i would see his car, or hear a song that reminded me of him, or even on several occasions, run into him at the mall or the movies. i ran away to college and tried to forget everything, but every time i dated someone who tried to feel me up, it all came back. it was always there, just beneath the surface of my smiling confidence.
i slept through high school. my mom, concerned with my parent teacher reports of me "always sleeping through class," took me to our family doctor to test for anemia. no one knew i had depression. it didn't even cross the doctor's mind.
meanwhile, the boys who had been involved bullied me at school, peed on my house, and made their message clear that i was to keep quiet about everything. one boy who was involved used to scream "you're disgusting! whore!" when he saw me in school.
i used to see him with his girlfriend in the halls and wonder if she knew him in the same way i did. i doubted it.
i didn't know how to open up about this. poor travis wasn't sure how to handle it, but after things got really bad a few months ago, he basically "forced" me to go to counseling.
i meet all the criteria in the DSM-IV for PTSD.
my counselor's name is jessica and she is wonderful. i highly recommend therapy. i'm doing better than i have been since i was that 14 year old girl. it's just nice to have a safe place and a safe person to open up to. right now jessica is helping me to understand the things that trigger the memories and understand that the reactions i have- panic attacks, intrusive thoughts, fear, etc,- are not me, but reactions of PTSD. i've been going to counseling for about eight weeks now and it's really helping. next week, travis is going to come with me and hopefully i'll start learning how to open up to him about everything and let him in.
if you are a survivor of sexual assault or molestation, please know that your life doesn't have to be defined by what happened to you. it wasn't your fault. you don't have to live in fear or deal with it all on your own. i wouldn't have believed that a few months ago, and maybe you don't right now either, but please, please, don't think you are alone.
i know that some of you may read this and think, wow, she really over-shared this time. this is not the appropriate venue for her to work on this. to those people i say, you are part of the problem. our culture needs to address these things, instead of blaming the victim and keeping everything swept under the rug.
i want to say a quick thank you to travis. it really is a miracle that we are together. i never thought i would find a person who cared so much and was so selfless. i never dreamed i could trust someone like i trust travis.
also, a thank you to two dear friends who reminded me why i wanted to live. you both know who you are.
if you have questions or want to talk about a similar experience, please email me. collette.charles7@gmail.com.
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