Remembering things

As I continue with these memories, many feelings have resurfaced and have reestablished themselves. I know that I am learning to share more and to continue with the recollection of some very difficult memories. When I first had begun to be interested in this individual, I remember how much I was getting to be attracted to him. The way that he looked and smelled in cologne was very exciting to me. He was much taller than me and was very physically strong. I remember one day that we in the Brat Pack were at my place and were horse-playing around. He had picked me up and put me on his shoulder and put me upside down. I REALLY do not like being upside down. That really had startled him and I began to walk around to calm down. He had followed me and spoke to me trying to ease my fears. I recall that I had found that appealing in him that he was providing the appearance of caring and compassion. Not too much longer we had had our first sexual encounter. This is where my shame had started.

As a Christian, I did not believe that sex outside of marriage was acceptable or easily validated. I was placing myself in a position where I was loosing the protection of others. For several weeks after that, we did not have more sexual encounters. I had moved into my Aunt and Uncle's home and so traveling back and forth from to church was a long drive. So, to develop the relationship more, he would drive from his home, nearly 35 minutes away, and pick me up to go to church. We would spend the entire day closer to the church and at his mother's house where he lived in the basement apartment. We would often "horse around" at his place.

I had noticed that I was beginning to rationalize my walk with the LORD. I had started to feel waxed over and my shame became a little more deep seated. I cannot remember how many times that we had sexual encounters because they were not all that many. I had noticed one thing that was beginning to catch my concerns. I believed that he was becoming impotent. No matter how many times we attempted, the outcome was the same. He became more frustrated at his performance and it was becoming more evident.

I believe that we had been "dating" for several months and then one day, he appeared at my job while I was on break and proposed. I was shocked. I had missed being married but I had not been divorced long enough to be able to really think that I would be a good wife. There was so much to figure. At that point, I was given an ultimatum (the only thing that I can think of)--to be a -----, I had three days to consider his marriage proposal. For three days, I could not think of anything that would validate me being married again. When he asked me what my answer was, I had told him "no". At that point, we had separated and I did not see him again for at least six months. I had taken a deep breath and believed that I had done the right thing. I had to address my shame and to get in right standing and to push myself to do more in the church.

But, I did not realize that this was not the end. Shame has a way of motivating a person. This motivation may not always be healthy, but it is a means to an end.

More to share later.

Pushing on. Pressing on. Opening doors.

Brat Pack

After a while, this "brat pack" consisted of three guys and myself. Two of them had proposed to me. Although I had had a lot of "fun" going to the singles group functions, I could not see really getting into an intimate relationship at that time. But! I did have a lot of fun. We would go to a regular restaurant and have fellowship. I loved that! I have always had a crazy sense of humor. I love a good got and to get a good got. These guys were so funny that they could roll with the punches. Unfortunately, we had so much fun at the expense of another of the guys. For months we had done this--meet and enjoy fellowship. At some point, the guys would pay for my dinner. I had to admit that this was very new to me; I did expect that a "good man" should know that he is to take care of a woman's needs and paying for dinner/meal would be part of that.

We became an inseparable group. When at church, we would sit together and razz each other during service. It would be fun to bring in mints into the sanctuary and pass them around. However, I did not realize that this "brat pack" was becoming more dysfunctional. These relationships were very subtle. Then one of the other guys had gotten on the "radar" of one of the heads at the church. Not too much longer did this individual get shuffled out and we did not see him much longer. Just the same, we would go all places together.

Then at one time, I was asked if it was ok to come over to my home and meet my family. I had to admit that it was a great aspect. I did want my family to approve of the individuals that I had met and this was great. My Uncle was a hoot though. I had gotten the speech about having men in the home and not being chaperoned. That was great! I had gotten the speech!

I do remember that this guy had shown up dressed nice and smelled very good. I was impressed. One of my greatest weaknesses is a well-dressed, clean shaven, nicely groomed man that smells good. I suppose this was the point that I was really hooked. We were becoming more of a couple at this point and I was happy for that to happen. He knew how much I was lonely and how much I had longed for affection. It was very obvious.

Pressing on. Pushing on. Approaching doors.

Feelings

For the most part, when I had first learned of my diagnosis of cancer, I was plunged into a world of multiple medical appointments and many people touching me and being shuffled around. I had begun to experience many emotions bubbling to the surface that I had not felt in a very long time. I suppose these feelings have been there lying dormant for some time. Looking back, I have always been a person that has never shared or expressed her feelings openly. My emotions were conditionally shared in safe environments. What are these and where did they come from?

Fear. I have been afraid to allow people to see my emotions . My emotions have been a very deep, strong force of mine. When I do experience my emotions, they are not something to be just tossed around. In my experience, emotions were considered manipulative and a "woman's way of getting back at men." (I must say that this is as far from the truth as it possibly can be. We should not allow others' issues to be our own. That is classic transference.) I had not been able to express these emotions freely. I suppose that they were crippled to a certain degree. However, I have expressed my feelings and when I did, a person that honed in on my vulnerability gained my trust and then catapulted me into what we have today.

Distrust. I have noticed that I have become distrustful. Emotions have a way of stirring up other thought processes and thought disorders that create separation. Distrust is one of the ugliest of them all. It can separate an individual when they are at their weakest and their most neediest time. However, distrust is broken when fear is salved and confidence restored through connection with other people. I am still working on that.

Lack of connection. I have fought with these emotions for such a long time, that I have been in a continuous state of assessing myself. There have been times where I have been very free and willing to just relax. However, when difficult times comes, I retreat to what I am comfortable with. This comfort level is being changed and I am willing to be challenged. I have asked to be challenged and this is the outcome of that challenge.

There is more to come.

Pressing on. Walking on. Approaching doors.

Insufficiencies within victimization

Although this sexual assault happened many years ago, I had not taken the time to really address it. Many of my friends quickly dismissed it and would not discuss it. Their demeanor towards this was very apparent and being open about things would never happen. Perhaps I started to change; this I am not certain of. I know that from that point onward, I worked harder on me and digging into my classwork and coursework. I was registered at a local community college at the time and was taking classes in Criminal Justice and Political Science. I had also been attending regular services at my church and becoming very active within our singles group. I was beginning to really feel some freedoms that I had not experienced in some time. Coming out of a bad marriage left me with quite a bit of distrust in myself and uncertainty about the "big bad world".

Along with a long-time friend, we were starting to "let our hair down" and play around. She was the flirtatious one; I was the quiet and head strong one. Almost the voice of wisdom and logic. Just the same, we started to really have a lot of fun with some of the other singles. I had met a man who I would have a long-time friendship with until his death a couple of years ago. I met another man who was just the hoot; however, he was not what I was looking for in a husband. He had proposed to me several times before my divorce and then volunteered to go to Germany when the first Gulf War was gearing up. He ended up marrying another one of my friends who had dated my would-be rapist. How intertwined this had become.

Months passed and I soon fell into a "brat pack" of guys. I have always related more toward the guys than the gals. I was called Caren Marie by many and I loved it. I have not been called that since then. Looking back, it seems like a lifetime ago. I used to get called by many nick-names and terms of endearment; I do not anymore. That camaraderie is not there anymore. There are times that I wish it were there. There was a certain amount of comfort knowing that terms of endearment are given to you from close friends and family. I have not had that experience in too long. For the most part, the guys knew that I was "true blue" but that I was a little sister--really. Everyone is taller than me.

The dynamics of the singles group had started to change. This person came from another church and the rumor that had been coming along was that he had come with some issues of his own. Although I am not a one for rumors and gossips, I paid no attention to what I had heard. I had gotten closer to him in friendship. He gained my trust when I would leave the church to cry or to walk around the parking lot; this was very apparent that I was having some issues not understanding my emotions. Holidays were hard because there was no one to share them with. But even more so, I was just mending from a bad marriage. Little did I know that this was the time most crucial about gaining my confidence and establishing a presence to develop a relationship. I would not know what was going to come and I was not careful about it either.

More to share and more to digest. Pressing on. Pushing on. Opening doors.

Things

I have mentioned "things" multiple times and it is time to define "things". This section of my blog is going to be designated to defining the emotional "things" that I have been reluctant to speak of publicly. It is time. While I am not a fan of the term "baggage", it is best to define a course of action. I prefer "rooms". The human mind and heart has a way of closing off "rooms" to protect itself from trauma and the resurgence that trauma can do--Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) is just one of the examples of such. While some may have unopened doors to these rooms, some rooms come with great cautions of never to be opened. We will discuss that succinctly. Some details may be omitted for personal reasons; however, the discussion will be the same. There is no greater importance than to address the emotional sides of healing and to be sure that there is a moderator to see the journey through. Do you have one? We shall begin.

Marching on! Pressing on! Unlocking doors!

What is the next step

So, the next step is what? There are many things to do. I have purchased oils, lotions, ointments and to continue with what I know. My health literacy began this previous summer. There are many things that I am learning and things that I am addressing that I have not wanted to address. This battle has really affected my emotions and this is my next big battle. During this, a family member passed away and I am helpless to be part of the family healing. I ask "what about me?" Sure, I am a strong woman, but I hurt just so much with the loss of my Aunt. But, grieving should not stop me from moving forward.

I have been experiencing rolls of emotions that must be identified and then attacked one by one. I know one that has been--violation. This violation years ago has left a deep stain that many do not understand. I was told "girl, get over it!". I have never told anyone the full details and I wonder about what the impact will be when I do share these things. What will happen when I share these things. Fault, blame, shame, humiliation and the evil cousins of this are coming out from the shadows. Let us move along on these things.

Today, my body really hurts. I am really looking forward to a great long soak in the bathtub and to relax.

Rocking on!

I have heard

Today was a very long day. After taking the little one into the doc's office, I made sure to leave some news with the doc. It is good to keep them posted about things and to make sure that things are in order. I returned back to the grocery store and exchanged my bra (front loader) and picked up my prescription for the chemo. When I had seen it, my heart just sank. Yes, I know that this is real, but it really sunk in deep. I HAVE CANCER!

When I got home, I made sure to go see a neighbor and ask a very important question. I made sure that this question was not going to be too much. Come to find out, her father has experienced the same thing with respect to the diagnosis of cancer--we are not lepers.

It is good to know that this is not just a figment of my imagination. Can I do this? Yes, I can do this.