what i wouldn't give...

what i wouldn't give just to forget
what i wouldn't give to get some rest
so i can remember how to live again
i just wanna live again
-holly brook

woke up this morning unsure of my ability to survive the day. i scurried the kids off to school and asked boy child three to go upstairs and watch some tv for awhile. he asked if it was because i had a headache, i said yes. he hugged my neck and told me to feel better and disappeared up the stairs. this isn't my first 'headache', not by far. so i crawled back into bed, pulling all the pillows up over my head, and fell asleep with tears running down my face.

i tossed and turned with the ever vivid dreams of torture, doom, and impossible situations that push me to my emotional and physical limits. i woke up sweating and tense over and over. i finally dragged myself out of bed at noon.

i could go on and tell how the rest of the day went, but i'm sure you can pretty much assume. i hate this fight, this battle that exists inside me every second. my kids need me, my lover needs me. my house, my yard, and my responsibilities need me. i've got to push past it. but i'm so exhausted.

today sucked.

i have been looking forward to this weekend all week, but now i'm afraid i'll ruin it all. mark's mom has offered to take the kids tomorrow so we can have a night alone, especially since he starts a new job on monday. i've never not needed a date night. then saturday we get to sleep in, go get the kids, and enjoy our annual neighborhood block party/cinco de mayo celebration saturday night. i just hope i can muster the strength to pull myself out of this pit by tomorrow. i feel like my feet are trapped in sand, like i'm carrying a pack of bricks on my back, like i could sleep for a week, but my head won't stop spinning. thinking. obsessing. guilting. being filled with anger.

oh what i wouldn't give to just forget.
to get some rest.
to be fucking normal.

endlessly

today started out as a bad day.

mark was up at 5:15 getting ready for work, and out the door by 6:30. he came in to say goodbye to me and i was laying there awake. he knew something was wrong and asked if i was having a bad day, to which i shrugged. he sighed a heavy and long sigh and went to work. i sent him a text at 7:06 that read, 'i can't get out of bed'. i layed there, mind racing, body rested and ready for the day, but mentally unwilling to move.

i forced my mind to allow my body to move and sloppily rolled out of bed, pulled on the shirt and boxers mark had worn the night before. it gives me such comfort to smell him so close to me. i greeted the kids and bronx then flopped on the couch and pulled the blanket up to my eyes. girl child two asked if i had a headache, to which i simply shook my head yes. boy child three brought me a hot cup of coffee and snuggled up next to me with his mis-matched pj's and goofy spongebob slippers. i fed the boys breakfast and shooed them upstairs to play until school.

i blankly stared at the morning news, not absorbing a word of it. i sipped my coffee and kept checking my phone to see how many minutes until i could send the three school going kids outside to wait for the bus. i called them down, hugged and kissed them, and sent them out. i sent the boy in spongebob slippers upstairs to watch netflix and told him i'd be napping if he needed me. i put the pup in his kennel next to my bed and had the big puffy white comforter up over my head by the time the bus pulled up to our house.

i let my mind wander and spin until i dozed off. i dreamt my usual vivid and bizarre dreams. no bad dreams this morning, just dreams of finding money unexpectedly. i usually dream of proposals, and carefree, quiet, precious time with my lover. it's either that or demons, blood thirsty murderers ready to slice my body, being separated from my kids, drowning in deep murky water, or rape and humiliation. i understand why i have the good ones, because those truly are my dreams. the bad ones are just torments from my blessing of a cursed creative mind that always has a dark undertone.

my body and mind passed in and out of sleep while i listened to the same song on repeat. this week it's endlessly by green river ordinance. i've never been so enamoured with another human being. i love him with every cell in my body and every ounce of my heart. he is the days i can't get over, he is the nights that i call home, endlessly, for him i'll always wait.

i got up around 11 and headed outside to look at my flowers. they're blooming so beautifully and i absolutely love watching my yard come to life day by day. i got dressed, and got out of the house. before i knew it, kids were coming home from school and i had a million things to do before dinner. i managed to get them all done, and settled down with my girls to watch how to lose a guy in 10 days with a glass of wine and my projects laid all over the floor, and had to blink a few times to remember that this dream of a life is mine. how lucky am i?! i got everyone cuddled in bed and can't wait to do the same.

today was a victory. it started at 7:06am with my desperate text expressing the darkness of my state of mind, it started with me looking down the barrel of a tuesday with mark at work and several tasks to fulfill. for a second or two i wondered if i'd make it. it's now 9:50pm, and i've had a good day. i've managed to turn it around. i'm mentally exhausted from going round and round with myself, i'm physically exhausted from forced activity, but i'm smiling. i'm looking forward to a new day tomorrow. and that's all that matters. living with this disease is crippling and an absolute battle daily, but i still come out swinging. i love my family, i love my life.

love.
love.
love.

post script

i should have tacked this on at the end of last night's post. just wanted to add that while i was very hurt by my parents' actions (or lack there of) in this situation, they are human just like the rest of us and handled it in the way they thought was best for everyone involved. they've made mistakes by me, but at the same time they have done a million things right. i love them very much and have let it go. they are making big steps in accepting me and my "new" life. i applaud, admire and love them always.

farewell, so long

saturday june 12, 2004 i was raped.

me: braces, black tank top, jean shorts, curly unruly hair. virgin. 17.
him: grey t-shirt, khaki shorts, skinny. predator. 26.

his parents threw a baby shower for me in july of 1986. he's in the videos. his parents and mine were close friends. he attended acu (the university where my dad is a professor), and graduated in may of 2004. for those years he was in school, my mother and i would bake cookies every midterm and finals week then hand deliver them to a select few on campus, him being our last stop. his visits always took the longest. he was funny, sweet, full of stories, and i may have had a small 'big brother' crush on him. my parents invited him to sunday lunch after church a few times a semester. i always looked forward to it, because he would come in and play our piano with a talent i'd never seen. he bought me the brand new avril lavigne cd that was coming out because he saw all the posters of her i had in my room. plus, he had the funniest stories of life i'd ever heard. he had girlfriends off and on and was engaged for a year or so of his school time.

at his graduation in may, i dressed as cute as possible for the party at spaghetti warehouse in the mall of abilene later that day. i went to his table and gave him a hug and he slipped me a receipt with his number and email address on it, telling me to stay in touch. i emailed him a few days later, just asking how life in dallas was and how he was doing. we emailed back and forth a few times, and he told me he was coming to abilene to see friends in june and that i should come see him. i happily agreed.

june 12th. i took my SATs that day at the acu campus. once i was done, i was headed to my best friend's house for the weekend. i asked her to drop me by his room at the comfort inn, (where my wedding guests would later stay) and that i would call her when i needed to be picked up. with me i took a photo album of my best friends and my yearbook. i wanted to show him my friends and world. i was excited to see him, the cute older brother i'd never had, but had been in my life since i knew it.

little did i know, he'd made other plans. he had brought with him lingerie, a condom on a lollipop stick, tealight candles for the tub, and a few 'toys'. when he brought out the lingerie suggesting i put it on, my heart flipped. i knew this was wrong. i knew i had to leave. but i couldn't. he didn't use any weapons, but made it clear i could not leave. it took years of therapy to accept the fact that i did all i could. because i could have fought harder, but couldn't. just because i couldn't. because he told me i couldn't go. so i didn't. i called my friend to tell her he'd take me home that night, no big deal.

he raped me at 4:17pm. he ordered pizza for us around 6. forced me into a bath with him around 8. took me home the next morning, dropped me off in the alley behind my house while my parents were at church, around 9am. 17 hours of absolute disgrace and violation.

i told no one, besides my thankfully ex-husband, until 2007. that's when i started seeking counseling for it. i so wanted to tell my parents. it took months of prep for me to tell them. and i regret it. they did the absolute opposite of what i expected. they came to his defense. my dad met him, his father, and an elder in a dallas starbucks one sunday afternoon. i never got to hear what was said, except the fact that he said it was consensual. they never spoke of it again. my mother, months later, even told me about a run in they had with his family and how changed he was.

i promise you if any one of these 5 kids comes to me with a story like that, the motherfucker better be hiding in a ditch because that is not tolerable in any form, and i will protect them at all costs. i will bear my teeth and throw myself over them any day. it was almost as painful as the rape itself, as to how my parents responded to it. it reopened so many wounds and hurts, i felt so abandoned.

i took a bath last december for the first time since then. 7 and a half years later. i did it alone, because it was something i needed to conquer on my own. mark was at work. i filled my wine glass, filled the tub, and stepped in. i felt nauseous and couldn't even force myself to sit in it. i drained it, sucked down my wine, cried, and tried again. so determined to not let him control me anymore. i filled my glass again, filled my tub again, got in, and eventually ended up laying down in there for an hour. i took pictures to celebrate my victory and felt absolutely liberated.

if that bastard ever sets foot in my sights again, i swear to you i'll knee him in his tiny little balls so hard he'll never walk right again. but if he doesn't, i'm going on. happy. not letting that experience hamper my sexual or intimate relationship with mark ever again. i'll go on, knowing i did nothing wrong, knowing i can sleep at night, and hoping he can't. and i will forever hold up my middle finger to him, hoping he goes and fucks himself. because he's the one who took my innocence from me. i never gave it to him, he took it. but i'm stronger for it. i'm free of it.

finally.