I recently received this, and wish I would have gotten it sooner. But I thought I should share.
Written by CJ Hale (a high school teacher, she uses other pen names)
12 Things No One Told Me About Sex After Rape
"There is a strange sort of unspoken theory that once a woman has been raped, sex is no longer a viable option for her. Sex has been replaced but trauma, fear, pain, and anxiety. I'm not saying this is never the case. Every survivor's story and experience is different, but too often the assumption is that if you have been raped, you a sexually broken and forever unfixable. That sort of discourse is not healthy or empowering or even sympathetic. What I want to say is what I wish I had been told: rape is not a form of sex, it is a form of assault. Sex feels good. Assault is traumatizing. It is possible for sex to exist after rape because they are different experiences, just like it's possible for you to still enjoy going out to eat even if you got food poisoning once. You might never go back to that restaurant again, but it doesn't mean you will get food poisoning every time you go out.
Admittedly, I don't know what sex before rape is like. I lost my virginity to rape at 14. People are willing to give a lot of guidance on what a survivor is supposed to do after her rape. Do not change clothes. Do not shower. Have someone you trust take you to the hospital. Report it immediately to law enforcement. Reach out to loved ones, find a therapist, become an advocate for other survivors. But it's been 10 years and these are the things nobody told me after rape:
1. Nobody tells you that you'll feel guilty the first time you have a crush on a guy after your rape. Aren't you supposed to hate men now? I mean, ugh, penises are evil and one ruined your life. You shouldn't even be thinking about boys. That's what got you in trouble in the first place. (oh, hey rape culture, how'd you get here?)
2. Nobody tells you that you'll be called a tease when you draw the line at making out. Even though you're pretty proud of yourself for this minor victory on your path to regaining any confidence in expressing your sexuality, some people will think you're a prude because you won't take off your pants.
3. Nobody tells you that the first time you do take off your pants in front of a potential partner you'll cry almost immediately and put them back on, leaving without an explanation. you'll feel embarrassed and stupid and you'll wonder if you're ever going to be capable of intimacy ever again.
4. Nobody tells you that masturbation is a healing practice. (OK, maybe you therapist suggested it once or twice) and that realizing you're capable of sexual satisfaction after rape is an incredible, powerful feeling. Sometimes it takes a while to feel wholly reunited with your body in this way, and you're allowed to take all the time you need. Sexual exploration is a journey, not a destination.
5. Nobody tells you that your PTSD symptoms will be scoffed at. our boundaries will be called "arbitrary" and you will be accused of "wielding sex as a weapon" and "putting yourself on a pedestal." Someone should tell you that people who say these things are the worst type of people to be around. They have no right to make you feel ashamed, but they willl. If they have the potential to get angry about the choices you make about what you do with your body, they are not worth your time or energy or thought or love. But nobody tells you that.
6. Nobody tells you that the 'rape talk' will be a thing that has to happen before any romantic relationship gets too serious. Nobody lets you know that immature men will freak out and refer to your rape as "baggage" when they cut things off. And unfortunately, nobody mentions that some men will hold your hand and weep with you when you tell them, because they can't believe anyone would be capable of hurting you.
7. Nobody tells you that there are men who are patient and kind. Some men will listen and support you and they will read and research and seek to understand. They will ask you what you like and what you don't like, they will be explicit about their concerns, and they will treat you with respect and dignity.
8. Nobody tells you that the first few times you try sex again it might not go well. You might have a panic attack or flashback, and you might scream or shake or cry or throw up or all of the above. What they should tell you is that the right partner will stroke your back or make you tea or hold your hair back for you. He'll leave if he's asked and he'll keep his phone on him so you can talk if you need to.
9. Nobody tells you that the first time you successfully, enjoyable have sex again is empowering, and freeing, and overwhelming. Even if it only last two minutes, it will feel like an enormous victory. You will be happy in a way you weren't sure you would be happy again.
10. Nobody tells you that it doesn't work that way every time. PTSD isn't cured by one blissful experience, and anxiety is a bitch. Sometimes you will burrow down deep in you comforter and wish you just be NORMAL and have NORMAL sex like a NORMAL person. and it is frustrating. But you will remember that one bad experience does not negate your ability to have future good experiences. And you will drink your tea and feel better.
11. Nobody tells you that people are capable of loving you after you've been raped, and that you are capable of loving back. You are allowed to give yourself to someone completely. Likewise, you are allowed to hold back. You are allowed to be fearful but you are also allowed to trust again. Your healing process is your own and regardless of how you get there, know that as long as you are taking care of yourself, nobody has any right to tell you differently.
12. Nobody tells you that just because he's the first boy you slept with since your rape doesn't mean you have to fall in love with him. You don't "owe" anyone else your love or happiness or body. You can be thankful and appreciative and comfortable, but if he's not "the one," don't settle just because he treated you better than your rapist.
You're going to have good days and bad days. You're going to have good sex and bad sex. But you're still alive, and I just thought maybe someone should tell you."
Wednesday, August 28, 2013
Saturday, February 2, 2013
a start of something...
Alright, I'm going to give this a shot. I have been trying to get something written for days, but when I sit down to type I cannot think of a thing today. I have so much going on in my life right now, I could not even begin to get into it all. There are some really major changes going on and I'm stressed, and alot of it I can't even talk about because I tend to live a semi-private life. I share some things with some people, but my really really personal business is between me, family and a few close friends. But everything I know is about to change and I'm very excited and optimistic, but there's always some underlying nerves. I have a lot to look forward too though. That's all that I can say for now, I wanted to get a little off my chest..more to come in another entry..
Monday, January 7, 2013
rant about friends and other things
Well, I'm long due for a post, and I suppose today is the perfect day to do it!
I want to talk about something that happens in life, not just in the military. Friends coming and going. How rough is that? First Sean and I moved from Milwaukee, leaving all our friends behind to begin our journey as newly weds and off to Sean's first station...Mt. Home AFB, ID! lol. We quickly made friends through Sean's work. Our first set of friends to get orders was rough, we had just found ppl we had lots in common with, yet they are off to their next adventure. And of course we are always happy for our friends! Then throughout our years in ID we made many amazing friends. People who quickly changed from friends to family. And we've always had an open door. Sean and I would give our last cent to help family-blood or not. We gave tons of non blood family. Lots of people we would let stay with us, or do anything we can to help out. My dad has told me time and time again that having such a big heart and being such a sensitive person is a blessing and a curse. It truly is! I would give away my heart if I could, I'd do anything for someone I love, but then when these people leave my life it feels like an absolute heart break. I haven't been in Cali long so we are still meeting people and I am so optimistic. Tonight I helped a friend move onto their next adventure and I am so jealous of this person, that they can up and leave, and I am so happy for them. But once again someone has left and it always weighs heavily on my heart. I do love living where we do, and the opportunity to travel. I never imagined I'd be in SoCal! This place makes me so happy. Just the smell of the air is calming. There is just nothing like ocean breezes. I feel like after everything that's happened, I'm in a place I can get comfortable and healthy and happy! Even in this apartment, which is nothing compared to the mansion of a house we had before, I am happy. It's cozy and it's become home. It's been a bumpy ride to get here, and finally I can breath again. In 2010 I was raped. I didn't remember much of anything right away, it actually has taken years to remember it all. But that incident changed our life for, for both Sean and I. Where do you begin recovering from something like that? I reported what I could, we went through the whole process, which is exhausting and humiliating...and nothing happened. I tried to believe I did the right thing by making the report, but after nothing happened it destroyed me. Not all at once. I held it together for years. It was not spoken of, and I seemed fine. I felt fine. I looked fine. But before we had orders to move, everything came crashing down. Out of nowhere I hated my husband. I slept on the couch. I was rude, sparadic, withdrawn, and over night became depressed and the flash backs started. I'd be wired and stressed all day, out of ocd scratching my skin to the point that I landed myself in a psych facility. I had a breakdown. An embarrassing breakdown. To one day be fine, and the next in a PTSD triggered temporary state of psychosis. And it's scary. When you're out of control and know it, yet can't stop it...it's just scary. And I raged. Finally after seeing a counselor after having thoughts of giving up, I went to a hospital in ID. I'm going to talk about this, and it will be uncomfortable for both you and I, but some things cannot be left dormant in your mind. When you first arrive, you are given stacks of things to sign. So many things you don't know what you're signing. I could've signed up for a padded room and shock treatment. But they put you in an observation room with no doors or curtains, strip you of all jewelry, undress you and check your skin. You sit in scrubs on a bed that clearly has restraints and they just watch you, for up to 12hrs...luckily ONLY 3 for me. It's boring. You have nothing. You're scared and not yet medicated. Then finally a doc and shrink get to you, evaluate you and begin a pill regiment. They first put you with the uncontrollable crazies which can be terrifying. I had a room mate you watched me sleep. I wish I was joking. Then finally when they see you are just an adult with problems that need treatment, they move you to a different part of the hospital, where you have more freedom. They offer NA and AA meeting daily, which I attended even though I'm not sure I needed it since it's not what I was in treatment for, but it was so educational. Every two hours you have a smoke break, which is a godsend. Only thing that really keeps you sane in the crazy house. There's other groups-coping groups, support groups. I did it all. I did it all and took notes. I got educated about my disabilities. Sean did too. He came to visit me every evening during visiting hours. It's basically like jail, but slightly better. I would never wish upon my worst enemy to have a reason to have to use a facility like this, but I would never speak illy of it either. Although going around telling people I had to be hospitalized for mental issues was not something I advertised. I was anxious to get out! I missed my home, and hubby. My family took our children in during this time of need so we didn't have to worry about them. But I hurried home, I wasn't ready. So I went back, no shame. I met so many wonderful peole. They tell you not to make friends in groups or around the hospital, but everyone there has suffered in someway..how can you not reach out?! It's almost selfish to be there and not share your story. So many people made such a huge impact on my life. Sean even met some other ppl who had spouses there for treatment so he wasn't alone. Things were okay, I was back in control..kinda..enough to move to Cali. Not long after being here though the stress hit again and I was back at square one. But this time I could tell something wasn't feeling right in my head. I called my doc, saw him, and got sent to a treatment center up in the hills of ventura for more treatment. It was the best treatment program I've ever been in for patients with major depression, ptsd, borderline personality disorder, and drug and alcohol treatment. I got so much out of it. But until I hit "post", most people don't know all the mental health problems I've been conquering, and all the slack Sean has been picking up. But a few people do. You would think hearing that when something dreadful happens to a military family, people would be jumping to help us. But that's not so much been the case. People are not accepting of mental illness-even the super common or super treatable ones. But we've found our few people who know and have never judged. So tonight I am sad to see one go. I wish them all the best and happiness in the world, this person will never know the impact they have had on me, and our family. All in all though, I am happy. And it goes without saying that they will always have a place in our home. Even though it seems like we have nothing but hardship, we truly, truly have been blessed by the true people we have come across, and the general kindness we have received. Some of you may even be reading this. So to end this sappy rant...I will say I am happy for the life I have despite the dark cloud over us, and we are lucky to have so many true people in our life who have stuck it out with us.
I want to talk about something that happens in life, not just in the military. Friends coming and going. How rough is that? First Sean and I moved from Milwaukee, leaving all our friends behind to begin our journey as newly weds and off to Sean's first station...Mt. Home AFB, ID! lol. We quickly made friends through Sean's work. Our first set of friends to get orders was rough, we had just found ppl we had lots in common with, yet they are off to their next adventure. And of course we are always happy for our friends! Then throughout our years in ID we made many amazing friends. People who quickly changed from friends to family. And we've always had an open door. Sean and I would give our last cent to help family-blood or not. We gave tons of non blood family. Lots of people we would let stay with us, or do anything we can to help out. My dad has told me time and time again that having such a big heart and being such a sensitive person is a blessing and a curse. It truly is! I would give away my heart if I could, I'd do anything for someone I love, but then when these people leave my life it feels like an absolute heart break. I haven't been in Cali long so we are still meeting people and I am so optimistic. Tonight I helped a friend move onto their next adventure and I am so jealous of this person, that they can up and leave, and I am so happy for them. But once again someone has left and it always weighs heavily on my heart. I do love living where we do, and the opportunity to travel. I never imagined I'd be in SoCal! This place makes me so happy. Just the smell of the air is calming. There is just nothing like ocean breezes. I feel like after everything that's happened, I'm in a place I can get comfortable and healthy and happy! Even in this apartment, which is nothing compared to the mansion of a house we had before, I am happy. It's cozy and it's become home. It's been a bumpy ride to get here, and finally I can breath again. In 2010 I was raped. I didn't remember much of anything right away, it actually has taken years to remember it all. But that incident changed our life for, for both Sean and I. Where do you begin recovering from something like that? I reported what I could, we went through the whole process, which is exhausting and humiliating...and nothing happened. I tried to believe I did the right thing by making the report, but after nothing happened it destroyed me. Not all at once. I held it together for years. It was not spoken of, and I seemed fine. I felt fine. I looked fine. But before we had orders to move, everything came crashing down. Out of nowhere I hated my husband. I slept on the couch. I was rude, sparadic, withdrawn, and over night became depressed and the flash backs started. I'd be wired and stressed all day, out of ocd scratching my skin to the point that I landed myself in a psych facility. I had a breakdown. An embarrassing breakdown. To one day be fine, and the next in a PTSD triggered temporary state of psychosis. And it's scary. When you're out of control and know it, yet can't stop it...it's just scary. And I raged. Finally after seeing a counselor after having thoughts of giving up, I went to a hospital in ID. I'm going to talk about this, and it will be uncomfortable for both you and I, but some things cannot be left dormant in your mind. When you first arrive, you are given stacks of things to sign. So many things you don't know what you're signing. I could've signed up for a padded room and shock treatment. But they put you in an observation room with no doors or curtains, strip you of all jewelry, undress you and check your skin. You sit in scrubs on a bed that clearly has restraints and they just watch you, for up to 12hrs...luckily ONLY 3 for me. It's boring. You have nothing. You're scared and not yet medicated. Then finally a doc and shrink get to you, evaluate you and begin a pill regiment. They first put you with the uncontrollable crazies which can be terrifying. I had a room mate you watched me sleep. I wish I was joking. Then finally when they see you are just an adult with problems that need treatment, they move you to a different part of the hospital, where you have more freedom. They offer NA and AA meeting daily, which I attended even though I'm not sure I needed it since it's not what I was in treatment for, but it was so educational. Every two hours you have a smoke break, which is a godsend. Only thing that really keeps you sane in the crazy house. There's other groups-coping groups, support groups. I did it all. I did it all and took notes. I got educated about my disabilities. Sean did too. He came to visit me every evening during visiting hours. It's basically like jail, but slightly better. I would never wish upon my worst enemy to have a reason to have to use a facility like this, but I would never speak illy of it either. Although going around telling people I had to be hospitalized for mental issues was not something I advertised. I was anxious to get out! I missed my home, and hubby. My family took our children in during this time of need so we didn't have to worry about them. But I hurried home, I wasn't ready. So I went back, no shame. I met so many wonderful peole. They tell you not to make friends in groups or around the hospital, but everyone there has suffered in someway..how can you not reach out?! It's almost selfish to be there and not share your story. So many people made such a huge impact on my life. Sean even met some other ppl who had spouses there for treatment so he wasn't alone. Things were okay, I was back in control..kinda..enough to move to Cali. Not long after being here though the stress hit again and I was back at square one. But this time I could tell something wasn't feeling right in my head. I called my doc, saw him, and got sent to a treatment center up in the hills of ventura for more treatment. It was the best treatment program I've ever been in for patients with major depression, ptsd, borderline personality disorder, and drug and alcohol treatment. I got so much out of it. But until I hit "post", most people don't know all the mental health problems I've been conquering, and all the slack Sean has been picking up. But a few people do. You would think hearing that when something dreadful happens to a military family, people would be jumping to help us. But that's not so much been the case. People are not accepting of mental illness-even the super common or super treatable ones. But we've found our few people who know and have never judged. So tonight I am sad to see one go. I wish them all the best and happiness in the world, this person will never know the impact they have had on me, and our family. All in all though, I am happy. And it goes without saying that they will always have a place in our home. Even though it seems like we have nothing but hardship, we truly, truly have been blessed by the true people we have come across, and the general kindness we have received. Some of you may even be reading this. So to end this sappy rant...I will say I am happy for the life I have despite the dark cloud over us, and we are lucky to have so many true people in our life who have stuck it out with us.
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
quick end of dec update..
Wellll, I suppose I should chat briefly about the holidays....WOO HOO! They are over. It's just such a hectic season and it definitely gets overwhelming. It was wonderful though. We had packages just pouring in everyday from family members and Christmas cards. After all the stress, it was worth it. Maybe next year we'll get it down. Kieran turned 5 on the 26th, even though we didn't celebrate it completely for a few days. He is so proud to be a 5 year old. He's such a bright child, and I always get emotional on their birthdays. But he is my first born, he will always be my baby. We had a few days of relaxing, and then last night was NYE. Last year we hosted a big party for all our friends, neighbors, it was a blast! This year was totally different. Just stayed in, our really great friend joined us and there were drinks and we rented Looper, caught up..it was really quite nice, didn't mind that we were so into the movie that we didn't even realize midnight had come and gone. This morning I woke up and right off the bat, bad upset stomach, no not upset...dying on the inside painful stomach ache. I am pretty much 100% positive I got food poisoning from some take out the other night since the kids have had funky stomachs.. and Sean too. NO bueno! It's one of our favorite little local places...Mongolian BBQ. It's one of the first places Sean took me when we got here. Small place. you get a bowl and go down the line putting the veggies and meat you want into a bowl, then the cook takes it from you and cooks it all with noodles and whatever sauce you chose right in front of you and then he packages it into a simply to go box and that's that! Buttt I won't be eating there again...this has been awful! Thank God Sean's aunt is a nurse. We call and text her all the time with sometimes really dumb health questions, and she's so patient and helps and gives advice. She's been on board as far as support goes since all the health issues started. She's so professional, but so down to earth-tells Sean and I like it is even when it's tough. So today she recommended fluids, fluids, and fluids. Started to feel a little more lively. And today, Sean has been an angel. Keeping an eye on the boys, keeping me company and medicated, and most importantly kept me calm. He is my rock. I'm not one to hide some of our issues. This blog is supposed to be real, and not just some fake image of a perfect home.One of the biggest issues that Sean and I have struggled with over the years of me being sick is how he is there for me. There are times I am in pain, in the hospital, I've had many surgeries, and he was stressed, and it showed. He was angry. he was scared. So was I. But I wanted a rock, a solid rock. But through all this we have learned eachothers triggers, and now know how to calm eachother when these mini and sometimes major health problems pop up. The 30th of January was Sean and my 6th aniversary! Can't believe how the time has flown and all we have been through. We had a baby before our first wedding aniversary, lol. The "d" word has been thrown around more than once. We have faced life and death, sickness, death, deployments and TDY's. But we have a family, more furry babies than human, but this is just the way it should be. Sean is that man that no matter how mad at him I want to be, or am, he's the same guy I want to run to and cry about it to! We cannot escape eachother, and I don't say that in a negative way. When we met we were a wreck. Me, more than him. But somehow through everything we come out on top. How is that possible? Maybe it's luck, maybe it's fate, but for us this is just life.
Saturday, December 1, 2012
a short Dec. 1st entry.
I cannot for the life of me believe that today is Dec. 1st! There is a lot to look forward to this month, but it will also be a very overwhelming month for me.
First of all, I have to say that I'm glad that November is over. It was a rough month in every sense. My health, my marriage, our finances, our kids. Even just this last week I was beginning to wonder if there's an age limit to how old the kid(s) can be to drop them off at a fire station or hospital! Thursday was probably the most challenging day with my kids. As a mother, I have learned how to wash my face, brush my teeth, brush my hair and go to the bathroom. If I have time I may try and get some makeup on, and if I'm really lucky, I can even change my clothes in those 5 minutes AND put on deoderant! But on Thursday, during those five minutes, my children became baby terrorists. They dumped out a bag of brown sugar on my couch and peed on it, dumped out a full 5lbs. bag of white sugar in the corner (on the carpet), chewed open a box of instant mashed potatoes and dumped that throughout the living room and on the love seat, spilled iced tea in the kitchen, peed in the kitchen, knocked over all my clean laundry, got naked, and played in my yarn. FIVE MINUTES. That's all it took, cinco minutos. Plus they played with my phone, which I have a lock on so the kids can't play on it, but they tried to unlock it so many times that it wouldn't let me try unlocking it again for an hour. I couldn't call Sean and tell him I'm losing my mind, I couldn't call a friend to come help me clean up, I couldn't call my mom for advice. It was a living hell. I sobbed I was so mad. Luckily there's this thing called FB chat so I could msg Sean to ask him to ask our friend to come check in on me and help me. The first thing that had to be done was get the kids under control. Got them cleaned up, dressed, fed, then put in their room. But not put in their room until after my friend and I took all the toys, books, pillows, blankets and sheets out. Basically it was a jail cell for a day long time out since I had to clean everyhing. This may sound extreme, but the kids had been testing my limits with things like this all week, but Thursday was different. They wouldn't listen. Once they were settled in their room for the day long time out, I got to cleaning with my life-saver of a friend. It was exhausting work, even with help. So much vacuuming, laundry, uggh. I am unsure of what's gotten into them to make them want to cause so much trouble. I posted on FB about how they were acting. Some responses were funny ("give them benadryl!!", a few were wondering what the harm of little boys peeing on the floor was to anyone, yada yada yada. But what it boils down to is that I am their mother, I don't abuse them, neglect them, so if a day long time out is all the get for the amount of stress and number of panic attacks this mess caused me is nothing! So for that alone, I am ready for November to be done.
But December is a whole new beast. Besides the normal appts I have, we have St. Nick's, Xmas Eve, Xmas Day, Kieran's 5th bday is the 26th-yes, the day after Xmas. Then the 30th is Sean's and my 6th year wedding anniversary. Plus this coming week 2 of my greatest friends are coming out here to visit. And to top it all off, NYE. It's a lot. I'm no fortune teller, but I see some xanax in my future. I am not a grinch, but when you pile all these things up it gets beyond overwhelming! Especially for someone with anxiety/panic disorder, lol.
So really, I just wanted to bitch about what happened Thursday. I feel like if I talk about it, maybe the memory will be magically removed from my head. ;D
I am excited for this month because after this month, I have a whole new year to start fresh, and lordie do I need that!
So to start out Dec, I awoke with swollen lymph nodes, a cold, and side effects from a med. but I am going to make the best of today, starting with watching "Rock of Ages" with my husbie and crochet while drinking my icy cold Diet Coke.
Happy Saturday y'all! Hope you are as lucky as I am to start the day by relaxing, (even if I'm only doing that cause I'm sick)!!
:D
First of all, I have to say that I'm glad that November is over. It was a rough month in every sense. My health, my marriage, our finances, our kids. Even just this last week I was beginning to wonder if there's an age limit to how old the kid(s) can be to drop them off at a fire station or hospital! Thursday was probably the most challenging day with my kids. As a mother, I have learned how to wash my face, brush my teeth, brush my hair and go to the bathroom. If I have time I may try and get some makeup on, and if I'm really lucky, I can even change my clothes in those 5 minutes AND put on deoderant! But on Thursday, during those five minutes, my children became baby terrorists. They dumped out a bag of brown sugar on my couch and peed on it, dumped out a full 5lbs. bag of white sugar in the corner (on the carpet), chewed open a box of instant mashed potatoes and dumped that throughout the living room and on the love seat, spilled iced tea in the kitchen, peed in the kitchen, knocked over all my clean laundry, got naked, and played in my yarn. FIVE MINUTES. That's all it took, cinco minutos. Plus they played with my phone, which I have a lock on so the kids can't play on it, but they tried to unlock it so many times that it wouldn't let me try unlocking it again for an hour. I couldn't call Sean and tell him I'm losing my mind, I couldn't call a friend to come help me clean up, I couldn't call my mom for advice. It was a living hell. I sobbed I was so mad. Luckily there's this thing called FB chat so I could msg Sean to ask him to ask our friend to come check in on me and help me. The first thing that had to be done was get the kids under control. Got them cleaned up, dressed, fed, then put in their room. But not put in their room until after my friend and I took all the toys, books, pillows, blankets and sheets out. Basically it was a jail cell for a day long time out since I had to clean everyhing. This may sound extreme, but the kids had been testing my limits with things like this all week, but Thursday was different. They wouldn't listen. Once they were settled in their room for the day long time out, I got to cleaning with my life-saver of a friend. It was exhausting work, even with help. So much vacuuming, laundry, uggh. I am unsure of what's gotten into them to make them want to cause so much trouble. I posted on FB about how they were acting. Some responses were funny ("give them benadryl!!", a few were wondering what the harm of little boys peeing on the floor was to anyone, yada yada yada. But what it boils down to is that I am their mother, I don't abuse them, neglect them, so if a day long time out is all the get for the amount of stress and number of panic attacks this mess caused me is nothing! So for that alone, I am ready for November to be done.
But December is a whole new beast. Besides the normal appts I have, we have St. Nick's, Xmas Eve, Xmas Day, Kieran's 5th bday is the 26th-yes, the day after Xmas. Then the 30th is Sean's and my 6th year wedding anniversary. Plus this coming week 2 of my greatest friends are coming out here to visit. And to top it all off, NYE. It's a lot. I'm no fortune teller, but I see some xanax in my future. I am not a grinch, but when you pile all these things up it gets beyond overwhelming! Especially for someone with anxiety/panic disorder, lol.
So really, I just wanted to bitch about what happened Thursday. I feel like if I talk about it, maybe the memory will be magically removed from my head. ;D
I am excited for this month because after this month, I have a whole new year to start fresh, and lordie do I need that!
So to start out Dec, I awoke with swollen lymph nodes, a cold, and side effects from a med. but I am going to make the best of today, starting with watching "Rock of Ages" with my husbie and crochet while drinking my icy cold Diet Coke.
Happy Saturday y'all! Hope you are as lucky as I am to start the day by relaxing, (even if I'm only doing that cause I'm sick)!!
:D
Sunday, November 25, 2012
holiday spirit?
Today on Facebook I saw that tons of people who have their Christmas trees up, are doing family portraits, and all that good holiday jazz!! This is a totally normal American tradition that I'm all for! I'm just not in the holiday spirit yet.
So lets get real. Is my family the only family that is so fucking broke?! God, it's really killing me. We moved from a small town in Idaho last spring, to sunny Oxnard SoCal. I love it here, I do. But constant mid 60-70 degree weather is not helping. Also, the whole having like literally $13 is killing us. Everyone tells you that money issues can cause divorce. We definitely are feeling the strain on our relationship. The point of this blog is not to talk about all the perfect, beautiful moments in life. Post perfect family photos. Talk about how amazing being a mom is 100% of the time. I cannot even begin to tell you how hard financial struggles affect a relationship. There have been many tense conversations in this home, and sometimes even arguments. Tears are almost always shed during those times, mine of course. Christmas just seems to remind me of all the things I may or may no be able to give my children. It reminds me how Sean and I will have to totally short change ourselves to make good things happen for the kids. THIS IS DEPRESSING. Whether this is something that you personally experience - or not, these kinds of financial problems are real. This happens to real people, people you probably know. The ones with all the perfect pictures with the perfect captions. I talk alot about how we need to remember that we should be grateful for the things we have, like family, shelter, food, friends. But when you have bills that you are trying to split between paychecks, and tonsss of sacrifices that you are making constantly just to get by, it is so easy to forget that. Does money buy happiness? Maybe it does. How happy are you when you have to figure out how to get by day by day?
Tonight, after a day of shit (immodium and phenergan all day baby), I got the chance to lay down with my oldest son, Kieran. And by "I got the chance", I mean - "my children were hysterical for no apparent reason, yelling would get me nowhere, so I decided to just lay with him and rub his back, and cry from stress under my breath". Kieran's birthday is the day after Christmas. His due date was mid Jan, but I was severely gestational diabetic so I was to be induced Dec. 27, instead went into labor Christamas day, and after 30 some hours of hell, he came the 26th. He was not the prettiest little thing because he was stuck under my pelvic bone for hours so he was bruised, blue, and went straight to the NICU. But I loved him. Before I saw him I loved him. And now we are coming up on his 5th birthday. He is tall and handsome, scary smart. A pain in the ass a lot of the time, but also a very sensitive boy. He looks like his daddy, has my emotions, Sean's intelligence, and my extrememly long eyelashes. But a bday the day after Xmas? When do we catch a break?!
Sean and I were married Dec. 30th 2006. He was straight outta bootcamp/techschool, and it was a "we are in love, immature, but to be together we need to get married so I can go to his first station". We truly, truly were in love. But our wedding happened fast. A few months after being married I had the stomach flu. It was awful, for over a week. At some point, someone told us that maybe the barfing is not the stomach flu.....I took a test that night. ++!! We weren't ready, but that's just something that can potentially happen in your honeymoon phase (go get on birth control and buy condoms now.). We weren't ready but we were happy! "It's something we made, what a miracle this is!", I thought as a barfed every morning all day everyday for 14 weeks. I was scared. I was 20, in fucking Mt. Home Idaho, just married, and knocked up. At around 15 weeks, a blood test came back saying that the baby I was carrying may have Down Syndrome. Now what? We weren't ready for a child in our lives, let alone one that will need constant care, and a human that we may have to care for forever. We talked about whether or not we could go through. We had so much pressure on us. One family telling us that giving away or aborting our baby is a sin, and another side of the family who was totally supportive of WHATEVER we chose. We were faced with the impossible chances that we may not be able to do this, and we were going to have to make a decision that was best for us, the child, our future. So at 16 weeks I had an amniocentisis. Super scary procedure were they take out amniotic fluid from the uterus by sticking a huge needle in your belly. After 4 awful weeks, the test results were in. The baby was fine, healthy, and a boy. Our little oopsie was going to be okay.
Since Sean and my first Christmas we spent preparing for a baby, we hardly prepared for Christmas. He was a low ranking Airman, and we had nothing. We didn't even have our crib until about a week before he came. And we were really blessed to know someone who handed down tons of baby clothes to us. Everything fell into place. The only decoration we had in the whole house was one of those stupid fucking fake tree/plant/things that I got from Walmart, just like everyone else has at some point in their lives. We put a strand of lights on it, and hung the maybe 10 ornaments that my mom gave me from my childhood, and called it a Christmas tree. I remember sitting at the computer, taking selfies of big ol me, Sean, and our first furbabies Spike and Buffy, and having that little tree sitting right next to the desk. We laughed, it was a joke. But I remember sitting on our shitty Walmart futon, knitting, getting ready for Kieran to make his way into the world, looking at the lights on the tree, and feeling the warmth it brought to me. We we were so happy with that shitty tree.
So why am I stressing now? We were worse off then than we are now. Tonight I need to take a second and think about this. The tree will get put up when it gets put up. But for right now, I'm going to say "fuck decorating", I am broke, I am sick, we have issues, but we are here, together, in sunny SoCal, and somehow I am going to get past the material things that are supposed to bring us joy during the holiday season, and try and soak in what I have, and try and teach that to my boys.
Today was a total struggle. But I'm going to go to sleep thinking about our nothing of a tree from 5 years ago, and remember what a blessing these boys are to me, and tomorrow work on my budget.
Good night :)
Friday, November 23, 2012
So...
So this blog is going to undergo some changes. I still love cooking and baking and probably will still talk about food and maybe even share a few more recipes, but my life has-and is, going through some big changes. So in all honestly I need a place to bitch, share my happiness, pictures, whatever I want really. This is my selfish page. I need this. A journal? A place to post random crap, swear if I want to, and I hope to get something out of my ramblings. Please don't follow if you are no longer interested.
I don't know where to start..
Today is Thanksgiving. Well, was. It's 3am. I spent the whole day before Thanksgiving cooking. I made a huge turkey, that I had made an herb butter to rub under the skin, then I rubbed the outside of the skin with regular vegetable oil, rubbed with salt and pepper. I made from scratch stuffing. I even made my own bread to let go stale to make it. It was bacon and leek stuffing, and it turned out amazing. I made mashed potatoes...that's a must, probably my favorite food of all time! lol. I made an apple pie, rolls. Really it was absolutely ridiculous! Trying to take on so much at once. But when I cook I get in my groove. I put my laptop in the kitchen and pulled up my favorite Spotify playlist, cleverly titled "this is my shiiit right huurr" :D I listened to music, I chopped, kneaded, sauteed and roasted while listening to Weezy, Nicki, 2 Chainz, Lady Gaga. It was fun. The boys would come in and snitch, as all children (and adults, but shhhhhh!) do. They'd dance with me. We had some very stressful and happy moments preparing for this day of thanks. However, by the time everything was done and our really good friend came over, I was too tired to even fucking eat. I wanted to sit. Cry. After we all ate, boys went to bed, cleaned up a little, and I felt like I was so tired I could just die. But we watched a movie. Stardust. Really good, creative, lovable movie. The hubs went to bed and I thought I'd sit up and watch Private Practice on Netflix and crochet for a bit. But now I can't sleep. Not that I don't want to, just can't. I suppose I shouldn't be to surprised that I may or may not be having some insomnia. For the last month at least I've had trouble sleeping so I just stay up, it's alot less frustrating. I'm prescribed Ambien but it's a risky med as far as addiction goes and that's the last thing I need. Plus it just knocks me out, and I worry if one of the boys woke up crying I'd just sleep through it. That really scares me. So I avoid it.
Today was a really hard day for me. I've been married going on 6 years next month...and married to the military at that. Our first base was Idaho, now SoCal. I love the places we've been and will go. But being away from family never gets easier. I missed my mom and dad the most. The holidays are the hardest. Thanksgiving is a holiday my family takes very seriously. The day before, my mom and grandma do what I did-and I miss that. I miss helping. I miss sitting down all proper for one meal where we pass the food around family style, we all say what we're grateful for. It is the perfect holiday. My mom and my grandma are the best, most amazing hostesses. Since living out of state, I have really prided myself on carrying on that tradition. Being a good host seems to run in my blood. So all the time I was cooking, all I could think was that it didn't feel right doing it alone. It's just hard.
It's no secret that I have been, and currently am going through treatment for major depression, PTSD, panic and anxiety disorder and a few other things. Plus in 2010 I was diagnosed with Sarcoidosis. Sarcoidosis is a disease with no cure. The easiest way to describe the disease is to say it's like a combination of cancer and an autoimmune disease. Most people who have this disease are over 40, women, African American....not a mid twenty year old white female. Most people only have one or two symptoms. Common symptoms include very mild joint pain, migraines, bone pain, alls sorts of crazy stuff. The disease is usually diagnosed by biopsy, in the lungs. Sarcoidosis normally affects the lungs and heart, and granulomas can be seen on a CT scan and they are biopsied. Up until a few years ago this was considered a rare disease. I have every single possible symptom imaginable. My joint pain is out of control, we treat it like RA, but the only thing that helps is steroids. Besides arthritis, I have bone pain, occasional loss of sight-usually in my lower left eye, migraines, nausea-vommiting, chronic kidney stones, and intense muscle pain. In the last few years I've had a handful of surgeries...my gallbladder came out, as well as my appendix. I had masses removed off my forehead and scalp, and lithotripsy. Annnnd lastly I had to have an endometrial ablation and tubal ligation. I am hoping that I am a candidate for lithotripsy again because I will truly lose my mind if I pass another stone. The psychiatric stuff I will explain some other time. Can't go there now.
Soooo.....long story short, I physically and mentally felt like absolute shit today, but you know what? I made it. One more day. One day at a time.
I truly hope that everyone had a wonderful day with family and/or friends...even if you had to bust your ass for two day to make everything perfect. Despite all that bullshit, I have much to be thankful for. I have two little boys who light up my day and make everything worth it, a wonderful family, my cats, Buffy. A roof over our head, food in our fridge, and more luxuries than we need. I am thankful for medicine. The one thing no doctor I've ever seen has ever been able to tell me is how this disease could possibly affect how long I live-if it could one day become fatal, what my quality of life will be, and managing my chronic pain has been a challenge. For me, for my kids, my husband, my family, all those who've seen me suffer, be laid out on the couch for weeks after surgery, and basically become disabled. But today I lived. The days before I lived I had some very joyous moments. I have loved and been loved and continue to be loved, and for all that-I am thankful.
More to come.
G'night/morning/whatev. :D
I don't know where to start..
Today is Thanksgiving. Well, was. It's 3am. I spent the whole day before Thanksgiving cooking. I made a huge turkey, that I had made an herb butter to rub under the skin, then I rubbed the outside of the skin with regular vegetable oil, rubbed with salt and pepper. I made from scratch stuffing. I even made my own bread to let go stale to make it. It was bacon and leek stuffing, and it turned out amazing. I made mashed potatoes...that's a must, probably my favorite food of all time! lol. I made an apple pie, rolls. Really it was absolutely ridiculous! Trying to take on so much at once. But when I cook I get in my groove. I put my laptop in the kitchen and pulled up my favorite Spotify playlist, cleverly titled "this is my shiiit right huurr" :D I listened to music, I chopped, kneaded, sauteed and roasted while listening to Weezy, Nicki, 2 Chainz, Lady Gaga. It was fun. The boys would come in and snitch, as all children (and adults, but shhhhhh!) do. They'd dance with me. We had some very stressful and happy moments preparing for this day of thanks. However, by the time everything was done and our really good friend came over, I was too tired to even fucking eat. I wanted to sit. Cry. After we all ate, boys went to bed, cleaned up a little, and I felt like I was so tired I could just die. But we watched a movie. Stardust. Really good, creative, lovable movie. The hubs went to bed and I thought I'd sit up and watch Private Practice on Netflix and crochet for a bit. But now I can't sleep. Not that I don't want to, just can't. I suppose I shouldn't be to surprised that I may or may not be having some insomnia. For the last month at least I've had trouble sleeping so I just stay up, it's alot less frustrating. I'm prescribed Ambien but it's a risky med as far as addiction goes and that's the last thing I need. Plus it just knocks me out, and I worry if one of the boys woke up crying I'd just sleep through it. That really scares me. So I avoid it.
Today was a really hard day for me. I've been married going on 6 years next month...and married to the military at that. Our first base was Idaho, now SoCal. I love the places we've been and will go. But being away from family never gets easier. I missed my mom and dad the most. The holidays are the hardest. Thanksgiving is a holiday my family takes very seriously. The day before, my mom and grandma do what I did-and I miss that. I miss helping. I miss sitting down all proper for one meal where we pass the food around family style, we all say what we're grateful for. It is the perfect holiday. My mom and my grandma are the best, most amazing hostesses. Since living out of state, I have really prided myself on carrying on that tradition. Being a good host seems to run in my blood. So all the time I was cooking, all I could think was that it didn't feel right doing it alone. It's just hard.
It's no secret that I have been, and currently am going through treatment for major depression, PTSD, panic and anxiety disorder and a few other things. Plus in 2010 I was diagnosed with Sarcoidosis. Sarcoidosis is a disease with no cure. The easiest way to describe the disease is to say it's like a combination of cancer and an autoimmune disease. Most people who have this disease are over 40, women, African American....not a mid twenty year old white female. Most people only have one or two symptoms. Common symptoms include very mild joint pain, migraines, bone pain, alls sorts of crazy stuff. The disease is usually diagnosed by biopsy, in the lungs. Sarcoidosis normally affects the lungs and heart, and granulomas can be seen on a CT scan and they are biopsied. Up until a few years ago this was considered a rare disease. I have every single possible symptom imaginable. My joint pain is out of control, we treat it like RA, but the only thing that helps is steroids. Besides arthritis, I have bone pain, occasional loss of sight-usually in my lower left eye, migraines, nausea-vommiting, chronic kidney stones, and intense muscle pain. In the last few years I've had a handful of surgeries...my gallbladder came out, as well as my appendix. I had masses removed off my forehead and scalp, and lithotripsy. Annnnd lastly I had to have an endometrial ablation and tubal ligation. I am hoping that I am a candidate for lithotripsy again because I will truly lose my mind if I pass another stone. The psychiatric stuff I will explain some other time. Can't go there now.
Soooo.....long story short, I physically and mentally felt like absolute shit today, but you know what? I made it. One more day. One day at a time.
I truly hope that everyone had a wonderful day with family and/or friends...even if you had to bust your ass for two day to make everything perfect. Despite all that bullshit, I have much to be thankful for. I have two little boys who light up my day and make everything worth it, a wonderful family, my cats, Buffy. A roof over our head, food in our fridge, and more luxuries than we need. I am thankful for medicine. The one thing no doctor I've ever seen has ever been able to tell me is how this disease could possibly affect how long I live-if it could one day become fatal, what my quality of life will be, and managing my chronic pain has been a challenge. For me, for my kids, my husband, my family, all those who've seen me suffer, be laid out on the couch for weeks after surgery, and basically become disabled. But today I lived. The days before I lived I had some very joyous moments. I have loved and been loved and continue to be loved, and for all that-I am thankful.
More to come.
G'night/morning/whatev. :D
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