I spend a lot of time these days on the phone with my spoon and B. They give me a reference point when things get overwhelming for me here.
I spent a whole day cleaning out a literal and proverbial closet. There’s lots that needs cleaning these days and not a lot of me to get it done.
I am learning some new tricks though.
One new trick in the mix is to remind myself of old dreams. Those dreams cannot be recreated. What they can be is a reference point for me to remind myself of what HAS to happen over these next weeks.
Seven days from now I will be in a courtroom. I am going to walk in better prepared than the last time this summons happened. I better understand what the process requires. I better understand that the four deputies they bring into the room when my meltdown happens won’t be personal – just business.
I understand what can’t happen. That specifically is a repeat of November 1. I am better prepared to manage than I was then. The harm won’t be worse.
My own arrested development doesn’t allow me to see myself in the manner those who love me view this body.
I am more often that girl who resembles the photo over the fireplace than the woman I’ve become.
I walk unsure of my steps even if the shoes are 5″ platforms and there is now a knowing wiggle to the strut.
Every moment of my life until now has prepared me for this moment – where my strength dominates those around me. Inside though I am still the girl in pink ribbons and saddle shoes.
I’ve made some tough decisons in these few weeks. I tell myself that I am staying in the moment and moving to just the very next thing. In realiy though I am already at that point where this specific nightmare turns into a happy ending. It is the work inbetween now and then that holds me upright when all that I want to do is lay down.
I cannot come out on the other side of this the same.
Although this decision is essentially made for me not unlike the decision made seven years ago — I am somewhat better prepared for what comes next.
I’ve done a lot to take care of me in the aftermath. Others have cared for me as well. This is a solo match but my corner overflows with a support system I never knew I needed.
I explained to my doctor that it was being vulnerable which got me here. That is truth in part, lie elsewhere.
Vulnerability allowed me to make a decision with my vagina instead of my head. Vulnerability allowed me to get caught without my armor. Vulnerablity combined with poor choices has made this my longest winter.
Vulnerability is not my friend.
What vulnerability can never do though is alter the truth that after every winter comes spring. Rain comes and feeds the earth. The temperatures rise. New life and returning life wake from winter’s slumber. It happens ever year that the third rock from the son exists.
It will happen to us also. Us being the band. There are more songs in our discogrphy to play. Some will be ballads – others head bangers. We will sing again though, even if some of us are no longer in the lineup.
People keep asking me if I am O K A Y.
The answer to that is a resounding no.
While there are only a handful of people who know the WHY behind that no, the answer is the same to all who ask. I am not okay and after this I will never be again.
You don’t live through this and remain okay.
Who I was is gone. Who I will be on the other side is Aphrodite 2.0
I can’t tell you what she looks like though. I know who she will have to be in some aspects. In others I have no vizion. I know what I want for her – I just don’t know that circumstance will allow my wants to manifest.
My soapbox is getting dusty. My platform is smaller.
In 2014 ovre 15,000 individual people visited this website. In 2015 even more will come. Who I am is a person who always speaks to her audience….I simply have no script at this moment.