Tuesday, February 3, 2009

Thank You/Turning Poison into Medicine

Thank you to everyone who responded to my last blog. I'm trying to reply personally to all comments and msgs, etc, but I'm a little slow. I never expected such an outpouring. I don't know what I expected. I tossed and turned all night after posting it, thinking I probably shouldn't have laid so much bare. I had bizarre dreams. Like one where I went into a building across the street to "adopt," but really it was buy a baby. They handed me the baby in a car seat with a blanket over her. I got outside and took the blanket off and found the baby was naked, they hadn't even put her in a diaper. And she wasn't cute or pretty. She had bumps all over her face like bad acne. And I was totally unprepared to take care of her and I had no idea why I'd taken her and I kind of wanted to return her but instead I took her home. I can't help but think this was some sort of metaphor like the baby was my feelings about my past and the indecision about returning her was my indecision about posting that blog. Sorry, I'm weird about dreams. I've been reading way too much into them since junior high.

Anyway, I woke up, kinda freaked, worried what had happened with blog over night. But of course what I found was very kind comments and messages about how I'd helped people. So I'm glad I wrote it. I'll leave it up and hope it continues to help.

I want everyone to know that I'm fine. I've noticed that these things tend to hit me around significant dates. There is a particular day in April when I seem to have a freakout nearly every year and I would always check my journal and realize that it was the day that the first incident of sexual abuse occurred. End of January/early February 1995 was when He and I started dating so it's not shocking that feelings would come up around now either. I don't know the exact date because in my last freakout, I threw away my journal from that time period. I sort of regret that but it was what I needed to do at the time.

Anyway, I'm okay. Last night, I wrote that, I cried, and my wonderful, amazing, sweet fiance comforted me. He's so good. He's my karma that's for sure. this morning I awoke and was amazed that my words helped so many people. I'd turned poison into medicine and I'm going to continue to do that by getting offline for a little while now so I can focus on writing book three, which deals with a sexual abuse survivor. Not a relationship like mine. I'm not sure I could ever really channel that for fiction, though I don't rule out writing personal essays about it. But anyway, I can still very closely connect with my survivor character and need to turn my attention to her now.

Just one last thing, in the heat of the moment while writing that last night, the old teenage insecurities reared their ugly heads again and I didn't straight up call my relationship what it was. In the light of day, when I'm feeling strong, I know what I lived through was an emotionally, psychologically, and sexually abusive relationship. It's important for me to call it what it was and for anyone who is going through something similar to know what it is. Also if you have gone through something similar, I advise you to talk to someone professional. It took me a few years but I found a trusted therapist who helped me immensely (and oddly enough, it was a guy). Also many of you are probably aware of this website, but if not, it is an incredible resource for abuse survivors: rainn.org .

Lastly, I leave you with some of the music that got me through. I left my hometown as soon as I graduated high school and managed to go about five years without seeing my abusive ex, but then I was back home, going to Columbia, and suddenly there he was waiting at MY train stop. I was seriously freaked because there was another train stop closer to his parents house (I presumed he still lived there), why was he driving to my stop. He also got off at the same stop as me, it felt like I was being stalked though he never followed me and we completely ignored each other. It went on for over a month though. I refused to stop taking MY train because he was there. I got through it by listening to this Distillers song on my iPod which reminded me I was a tough, strong survivor. If you're angry or you need to get bile out of your system, this is a good one:

Again, thank you all for your kind words. Now I am off to write and turn poison into medicine.

No comments: