Dear K.,
Thank you so much for checking on the Wellness Center. I will give them a call. At our appointment last Friday, I promised to email you on Fridays to give you updates. I certainly intend to keep that up, and I am grateful for your willingness to listen.
I didn’t do very many things right this week, but I’m trying to focus on what I DID do right. I cooked actual meals for my family for dinner 3 of the 4 week nights we’ve had so far this week. Like actual made-from-scratch dinners. Not gourmet, but nourishing. That is unheard of for me! I mostly cook meals on the weekends when I am more relaxed and less rushed. There is time for chopping and sauteeing on the weekends. Week nights to date have involved simple, healthy meals for my daughter and then whatever her dad or I grab after she goes to bed—usually leftover pizza he brings home from work. All the cooking this week required a bit of planning and prepping ahead, but I am really incredibly proud of this. It is part of an effort to change the way I think about taking care of myself.
When I am lonely or sad or frustrated or scared, the way that has felt best to take care of myself has been to literally fill myself up. After the rape, I began filling myself up double-time. Which is how I got to where I am today.
I know that things need to change. I want to be an example for my daughter. I want her to love herself much more than I ever did or have loved myself, and I want to be around for her as long as possible.
While texting with a friend last weekend, I mentioned that I was planning to buy a FitBit so that I could focus on increasing my number of steps. A couple days later she emailed me because she had signed up for a new bank account, and they gave her a free FitBit for joining. She is mailing it to me as a gift to help me get started, apologizing that lime green was the only choice they offered. I was absolutely thrilled! I will happily wear that lime green thing on my person. The one she is sending is slightly fancier version of the most basic model I planned to order for myself. It should be here soon. I like to think the universe is trying to help me along here.
Thank you for listening. I hope you have a wonderful day. It’s hard to keep your chin up in these temperatures, but Daylight Savings Time begins March 8, and spring is not too far away. We’re almost there.
Best,
A.
Showing posts with label rape. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rape. Show all posts
February 20, 2015
March 15, 2012
My/our temple
It is a very strange thing to find that your body has been taken over by another being. And strange to be a container carrying precious cargo that everyone else has an opinion about and an interest in and my god they are going to let you know!
Before I was pregnant, when I needed mental health assistance it could be very, very difficult to get the help I needed. Endless phone calls and waits and unreturned messages and frustration and confusion for which I just didn't have the energy. So it was strange to become pregnant and suddenly find that everyone could not help me fast enough. My baby's health and well-being are important enough to complete strangers that they want to bend over backwards (to the extent that their budgets allow) to connect me with services.
Want to take a jewelry-making class with other moms-to-be? Here's a pamphlet!
Care to try prenatal acupuncture? Come to our free clinic!
Feel like you want support when you bring your newborn home? Let us sign you up for a few visits from a home health nurse!
Compared to what I had gotten used to, it has been rather dazzling.
I am trying to take advantage of every service and opportunity I can manage while it is available, especially now as I'm reaching the end and being pregnant has become very, very difficult. I was aware that it might, but never would I have been able to imagine how.
At the beginning of my second pregnancy, I was warned that miscarriage, pregnancy, and birth can all being very challenging experiences for women who've experienced sexual trauma. When I thought about it, it made sense. I was glad to be warned and I filed this knowledge away with the idea that knowing was half the battle and now that I knew I would be fine.
How I was wrong.
(To be continued.)
Before I was pregnant, when I needed mental health assistance it could be very, very difficult to get the help I needed. Endless phone calls and waits and unreturned messages and frustration and confusion for which I just didn't have the energy. So it was strange to become pregnant and suddenly find that everyone could not help me fast enough. My baby's health and well-being are important enough to complete strangers that they want to bend over backwards (to the extent that their budgets allow) to connect me with services.
Want to take a jewelry-making class with other moms-to-be? Here's a pamphlet!
Care to try prenatal acupuncture? Come to our free clinic!
Feel like you want support when you bring your newborn home? Let us sign you up for a few visits from a home health nurse!
Compared to what I had gotten used to, it has been rather dazzling.
I am trying to take advantage of every service and opportunity I can manage while it is available, especially now as I'm reaching the end and being pregnant has become very, very difficult. I was aware that it might, but never would I have been able to imagine how.
At the beginning of my second pregnancy, I was warned that miscarriage, pregnancy, and birth can all being very challenging experiences for women who've experienced sexual trauma. When I thought about it, it made sense. I was glad to be warned and I filed this knowledge away with the idea that knowing was half the battle and now that I knew I would be fine.
How I was wrong.
(To be continued.)
December 10, 2011
Where I went and why I stayed
I imagine most people think they know how they would react in a given situation. I know I did. I always had a bit of feistiness in me that led me to believe I would fight an attacker tooth and nail. Plus, I was smart. I was educated in sexuality and gender issues. I taught classes on those subjects fer chrissakes.
In the back of my mind lately--in spite of all the other things I have going on--I have been processing some of the issues that kept me from fighting back, from speaking up. The list is incomplete.
1. Though I struggled, I didn't scream while it was happening because I didn't want to make a scene. I get made fun of for being overly dramatic; I always have. And when I reported a molestation to a trusted adult as a child, I was told that I had misunderstood what had happened, and that it had not happened the way I said it did. Because I misunderstood.
I thought maybe I was misunderstanding this time, too.
2. Admitting to myself what was happening put me in danger of panic. And if panic set in I felt like I would lose all control.
Better to keep quiet and calm and alert.
3. He didn't beat me up. Didn't pull a weapon on me. Didn't even say a word, in fact. He just held me down with his own weight. Despite the pain and the powerlessness, I kept telling myself, "It's just sex. That's all it boils down to. I've had sex plenty of times. I can survive this." Though I couldn't even allow myself to think about the word "rape" at the time, looking back I know I felt I wasn't "raped enough" (i.e., raped violently enough) as others I knew had been in order to be seen as having been "legitimately" raped by others.
They wouldn't believe me--wouldn't take me seriously.
4. I know you're not supposed to shower. I've seen enough Law & Order episodes to know. But the idea of going to a doctor or a police officer dirty and unwashed was unthinkable to me. I just wanted to wash his presence off and forget.
The shame and humilation were unbearable.
In the back of my mind lately--in spite of all the other things I have going on--I have been processing some of the issues that kept me from fighting back, from speaking up. The list is incomplete.
1. Though I struggled, I didn't scream while it was happening because I didn't want to make a scene. I get made fun of for being overly dramatic; I always have. And when I reported a molestation to a trusted adult as a child, I was told that I had misunderstood what had happened, and that it had not happened the way I said it did. Because I misunderstood.
I thought maybe I was misunderstanding this time, too.
2. Admitting to myself what was happening put me in danger of panic. And if panic set in I felt like I would lose all control.
Better to keep quiet and calm and alert.
3. He didn't beat me up. Didn't pull a weapon on me. Didn't even say a word, in fact. He just held me down with his own weight. Despite the pain and the powerlessness, I kept telling myself, "It's just sex. That's all it boils down to. I've had sex plenty of times. I can survive this." Though I couldn't even allow myself to think about the word "rape" at the time, looking back I know I felt I wasn't "raped enough" (i.e., raped violently enough) as others I knew had been in order to be seen as having been "legitimately" raped by others.
They wouldn't believe me--wouldn't take me seriously.
4. I know you're not supposed to shower. I've seen enough Law & Order episodes to know. But the idea of going to a doctor or a police officer dirty and unwashed was unthinkable to me. I just wanted to wash his presence off and forget.
The shame and humilation were unbearable.
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