Get my groove back

If I could come home with a smile on my face after the day I’ve had, and proceed to actually be productive while feeling the way I feel…it’s back, or at least as much of one as I ever had.

I now have my returns neatly packaged and ready to go to the UPS store tomorrow (I just hope Timmy the ThinkGeek monkey forgives me for being a teensy bit late exchanging that shirt).

It’s amazing how much I get done once I gain some momentum.

accomplished the things I put on my threat-of-challenge-goal list, I have done an awful lot in the past couple of weeks. I even did a few things that were not on the list, such as downloading a printer driver (and then figuring out which USB port the stupid thing wants to be plugged into).

I’ve also been feeling more together, more sure of myself, and even ::gasp:: halfway attractive as of late. I’ve dressed up, worn makeup and jewelry, smiled at and talked to strangers. I’ve even stopped panicking about R’s feelings for me, and just accepted that he loves me.

I’m not quite ready to say this is done, but I’m close. Very close. I feel good.

_{Except for my temple, which took a rather cruel blow from the computer chair arm while I was fiddling with cables.}

maybe not. I’m taking a break from cleaning the house (after far too many weeks of laziness), and generally preparing for Dad’s b-day dinner tomorrow. I’m motivated, I want to do stuff, I’m actually not in pain for the first time in weeks…

...but I think I’m coming down with a cold. Argh. Maybe it’s just allergies (please oh please) – my only symptom thus far is persistent, violent sneezing and the hint of congestion. That could be allergies, right?

I suppose I ought to hurry up and finish cleaning, so at least if I am getting sick, I’ll get to be sick in a clean apartment.

but I see it off in the distance there…

Random conversation with my mom last night about a friend of mine, and the summer activities she’s enrolled her daughter in. I was expressing envy that the daughter has things like art camp to go to, and Mom got a little defensive. She told me she tried to enroll me in things, but I was never interested. Swimming lessons. Skating lessons. Dance lessons. Girl Scouts. But these are physical activities. I was more creative – I liked writing, and arts and crafts, and music, and had nerdy hobbies like astronomy and rocks. I’ve always been a klutz…physical stuff just made me feel like I would never measure up. And I guess I’ve carried that through my life – that I don’t measure up, that I always let people down.

I’ve found I’m happiest when I live on my terms, not on someone else’s. When I base myself on other’s expectations, I always fall short. I mean, even my own mother doesn’t get me! But I think I’m starting to. So I need to stop worrying about others and figure out what it is I like to do.

Today I got…not angry, but close. Maybe “indignant” is the right word. (Yeah, this is work again…can you tell?) Certain people are tiptoeing around me and acting like I have an attitude problem – all because I’m now vocalizing my opinion when I disagree with people. Nicely. (Trust me…what I want to say and what I do say are separated by a sea of expletives. :P)

And then it hit me. I’m expected to sit in my corner and do what I’m told and not think. Which, you know, would be fine…except on my evaluation, I get rated on how much I contribute to the brainstorming process. Uh…so which is it?

But I’ve decided to look at this as a good thing. The biggest changes in my life, and myself, have come about after I’ve finally gotten fed up with my current situation. When I’m mad, pretty much. So I need to use this frustration, and get the [insert your favorite naughty word] outta this hole.

I guess this fits here as well as anywhere. Why Sabryn Doesn’t Trust People.

I’ve made mention here before, though many probably haven’t seen it, that I lost my virginity to rape. The guy being my boyfriend at the time. I was 18.

Not quite a year earlier, I’d been dumped by my first love. I was beyond crushed. I was still aching when I started dating this guy. I knew of him, from school, but didn’t really know him well – he was 6 years older than me, and a friend of a friend. But he said all the right things, and he was gorgeous, and he had a little boy that I immediately fell in love with. Finally, I thought, I could move on.

The only problem was…well, he was obsessed with sex. Having only dated three guys prior, all of them very patient with me and the fact that I wasn’t ready to have sex, this was very new to me. (I realize now that he had a quite unhealthy obsession with it, but I was a kid – I didn’t know any better.) And to make a long story short, a couple months into the relationship he decided it was time for me to learn. There wasn’t a whole friggin’ lot I could do about it…I was 5’6” and 90 lbs, and he was 6’1” and built like a linebacker.

I still remember the drive home that night. Finally, I had done what everyone (except, oddly enough, my boyfriends) had been pressuring me to do. I’d had sex. I figured I was supposed to be happy…I felt anything but. I didn’t cry. But I did scrub myself raw the minute I hit the tub.

I didn’t tell anyone for a week. Mom and I were arguing quite a bit at that point, and it came out in a fit of anger. She took me to the doctor, who pronounced me traumatized but otherwise ok. Then I told my friends. They were glad I’d finally “become a woman.”

This is the part I’m ashamed of. I stayed with him. For his son. Yeah, he apologized all over himself, and bought me flowers, and gave me a key to his house. I never forgave him. And he did it again and again. My mom blamed me for that…that I went back to him. But his son…I was the closest thing to a mother he had at that point. And I loved him too much to leave his dad. The son was the one who gave me the courage to leave, three months later. He asked me if I loved his daddy. He was three! And he knew. I realized then that I was hurting him by staying…he adored his dad, and he loved me, and he couldn’t stand to see us fight the way his mom had fought with his dad. So I left.

And proceeded to date a series of guys who could not understand what I’d been through, why I wasn’t interested in sex. Guys who insisted I have sex despite the fact that I equated it with the worst trauma of my life. I was 26 before sex even sounded like a good idea. (And oh, the irony…from that point on, I dated only guys who weren’t interested in it, at least with me. But that’s another story.)

I’ve been over and over the rape in therapy. Not that it helped much. But I revisited these memories again this week, because of a book I read – the plot revolved around a teenage rape, and all that went into covering it up. What I realized is that this is when I stopped trusting people. Not because of the rape, but because of the way people reacted to it.

My friends were happy. My mom made sure I checked out physically, but then never really tried to talk to me about it. (Though she did express disgust when I stayed with him…she never asked why.) I felt condemned. I had all these horrible feelings, and no one even acknowledged them. It was years later, telling the story to a classmate, before I was ever asked if I’d pressed charges. The thought never occurred to me – and trust me, no one else ever brought it up. All these things just added to the shame I already felt.

That’s when I stopped talking to people. I can remember a time when I never hesitated to call someone up…now, I never call someone unless I’m supposed to. I guess some part of me feels unworthy. I’ve had very few friends since then, for the same reason. And the guys I’ve dated have done nothing but further my opinion of myself. I don’t honestly know if I bring it on myself or if they can just smell the low self-esteem.

Last fall – the first time in my life that I’ve been intentionally single – I finally became content with myself. It’s just hard remaining so when other people are involved. I don’t trust my judgment anymore. That’s what I need to work on.

...by a thread, it feels at times, but I’m still here. Feeling a little better because R stopped by for a little bit tonight, just because he missed me. Coming as it did on the tail end of a most awful day, I wasn’t exactly enthusiastic at first. But he’s patient with me; on days like this, I require a lot of patience.

He said something funny, as he left. Well, funny to me. He said “You can call me, you know.” Which leads into this whole train of thought that I’ve been mulling over the past few days. Why I don’t call people, why I don’t open up to people. There’s a story behind it, one I’ve only just this week begun to see all the pieces of; Jim, I might even tell it. At any rate…I should call him. I should talk to him. Or somebody. It’s just hard, I guess.

Anyway. I rediscovered this song on MySpace; it was my song for a long time last year, and revisiting it has brought me much comfort this week. It describes perfectly the limbo I’ve been sitting in.

Lighthouse
July for Kings

It got a lot darker here
than I thought it would
when I disappeared
it’s funny how a couple of days
can make you so afraid
you float away
you’re reaching your hand up now
but I can’t stand myself
or how I
took it all for granted
it didn’t turn out the way I planned it

But I, I won’t be afraid
I’m sure I’ll find a place
where the dust and haze will clear
and the light on the shore will reappear

Watching the light reappear
blink on, blink out, yeah
we’re still standing here
blink on, blink out
watching the light reappear
blink on, blink out, yeah
this flickering is maddening
but the light, the light will reappear

Oh, but the light will reappear

It’s gonna get more quiet here
than I want it to
but I hear you, my dear
you’re whispering
I’m listening
I’m happy about the fact that we’re
a little stronger than the day before
just a little longer till we reach the shore
I still get down
when you’re not around
I’m not afraid of the cold anymore

But I won’t be afraid
I’m sure I’ll find that place
where the dust and the haze might clear
oh, and the light, the light will reappear

The light will reappear

Watching the light reappear
blink on, blink out, yeah
watching the light reappear
blink on, blink out
watching the light reappear
blink on, blink out
this flickering is maddening
but the light, the light will reappear

But I won’t be afraid
I’m sure we’ll find that place
oh where the dust and haze will clear, clear
and the light, where the light will reappear

Watching the light reappear
blink on, blink out, yeah
we’re still standing here
blink on, blink out, yeah
watching the light reappear
blink on, blink out
this flickering is maddening
yeah, this flickering is maddening
oh, oh, oh
this flickering is maddening

Most of these are reflected in my goals, but I really thought I should start a list of specifics that I can refer to, to keep me focused. These are things I was working towards last fall, and had made much headway, but somehow I lost sight of them.

1. I will honor my own commitments first. I will not sacrifice my basic needs (such as food, rest, exercise) for the needs of others, because to do so does us both a disservice.
2. I will speak my mind, as kindly as possible. While we may have to agree to disagree, I will not sit in silence.
3. I will keep on hand at all times healthy, nourishing food, and will eat it instead of resorting to junk. When possible, I will make larger dishes and freeze the leftovers.
4. As soon as I think of something that needs to be done, I will either take care of it or schedule a time to do so. And then do it.
5. I will seek to improve my situation every day. I will look for new job and educational opportunities. I will seek out new foods and experiences to try. I will look for new ways to improve my health and simplify my life.
6. I will complete my to-do list each day.
7. I will reserve time every day to do something I love.
8. I will strive to maintain the relationships I have, and look to build new, healthy relationships. I will let go of the unhealthy relationships.
9. I will be patient with others, while remembering that patience can and should have limits.
10. I will spend less time trying to figure out what I want in life and more time living it.