Friday, October 7, 2011

A year for the books.

well... it's the end of the day and with the exception of a text I wish I hadn't sent late last night, I didn't do anything destructive today. good job me.

I woke with a bloody nose and lost keys... clad in black (I always like to dress to represent my feelings- drama queen that I am) and certain this was destined to be an awful day, I made my way to school.

and then... I got an A from a professor that doesn't really give A's. An A that I really needed and that I really worked for. Because I wasn't going to get any of the other things I wanted today, like a hug from someone who doesn't owe me any more hugs--the A was a reminder of my capability and intelligence, the mark of who I am now versus who I was this time last year. and in the absence of a hug, it was a necessary reminder-- the kind that buoys up independence and personal strength.

today there have been lots of texts, phone calls, e-mails, and even letters (I love your old fashioned style daddy, much more sincere). there were also pink daisy's and a late night sweet treat on my doorstep. I'm a lucky lady...

no, I'm a blessed lady.

at times over the last year I've wished I would have died that day. but now I know I wasn't meant to. there  is more for me to do, more people for me to know, and more loving to be done.

As a way to end this year and allow myself to move into the with limited baggage, I am including what I wrote a year ago about this day. It has never been read. But today I want to share... for a comparison or complete honesty or because it's part of the story being told here.


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So this totally shit thing happened.
I went running because I'm feeling fat and it seemed about time to do something about that.
Then I was attacked, and raped. In the middle of the day. Practically in my own backyard. By an old man with a dark spirit and ill intentions. I understand the irony of the situation that I have traveled half way around the world completely solo and have never even been mugged. I also see the irony in that I am one of the only girls I know who doesn't worry about rape on a daily basis. I don't own mace, I don't walk to my car with my keys between my fingers, and I have never really considered what I'd do if this day came. But the day I decided to pull myself together, drag my ridiculous life out of the gutter, evil found me.

Then I ran away. Then I spent 24 hours retelling my sad little story to what felt like a million cops and people I didn't know and didn't want to know. They weren't even people I could look in the eye. But it seems like looking anyone in the eye is sort of hard. When people look me in the eye, it feels like they can look inside my soul and see what is going on there. I wish they would tell me. Because I can't seem to sort it out. That must be because they gave me zanex. To save me from my panic attacks. But really it just makes it so when my heart and spirit feel worked up, all I can do is sit and stare. Not so cool.

I did a police sketch. They are way hard to do. Mine really sucks and I just don't feel like I did much good in that department. Everyone keeps telling me I'm so brave and that I did everything right... blah blah blah. I don't feel brave. I feel like I'm taking up a lot of space in a human's world.

Everyone is really upset. But no one wants me to know that. My brother went looking for the guy. My dad likely wants to come here with his new found gun habit.

But all I can think is this changes everything. Because even if people don't know. I know. And because of that I'm finding it hard to have a very fruitful conversation. I am now dealt with like glass, to be seen and touched, but delicately and lightly. I am driven everywhere, I am held while walked places. I am watched. Constantly. My mom is lying next to me even now. Pretending to sleep. I get messages of love all day from friends. I don't really know how I feel about that. I don't really know how I feel about anything.

Will anyone ever let me be alone again? Do I want to ever be alone again?

No one knows how to treat me. I don't even know how I want them to treat me? But I can't help but thinking that I'm going to see a lot less of them now. Because somehow I am now different.

And I don't want to go to sleep. And I don't want to stay awake. I don't want to eat. I don't want to be here, but I don't really have anywhere I do want to be either so I'm just sitting. I've also been told to feel and do whatever I want. And for the first time in a very long time, I can't even figure out what I'd rather be doing. Probably anything than living this life. It's tarnished and although I've been told it won't always feel that way. For now, I don't really believe them. I know they mean well, but like I said. This changes everything.

I don't think I'll publish this post now. But one of these days I know light will hit me and I will press one button that will send all this out into the world. And that will be that.

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3 comments:

  1. *hugs* I don't know what else to say. You are brave. And you have grown. And you will be stronger.

    *more far away hugs*

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  2. Brave. You made it one year girl. One day you will turn around and it will be ten years and you will wonder where the time went and won't believe how awesome your life is. People do get past bad things. You will never forget, but don't let it rule your life or change who you are supposed to be. I know you have done a lot of soul searching in this past year. Keep it up.

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  3. I haven't made it through your entire blog, but I randomly started reading this post tonight. How crazy it is that we've written such similar things. To have read someone else's past thoughts which mirrored my own is healing in a way. I remember the feeling of being watched by everyone. A couple days after, when my mom took me to lunch, and while telling me not to worry about paying, she gently rubbed my arm, and I knew what she was thinking. It's a strange feeling.

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