The Year Of January

Has anyone ever made new years resolutions? Ever got to the end of the year with them intact? Yeah me neither. That is why I started picking one word a year to focus on, whether it be a self improvement goal, or an emotional goal, or a spiritual one...Just one word to think about, ponder, strive towards, and try to integrate in every area of my life.

Last year my word was peace. I wanted to have peace in everything. I knew that deployment was coming, I knew it would be a long hard process to get there, I knew that my world had been shaken a bit and I wanted to have peace in my soul. I did not want to be upset over small things, I wanted to be able to know that it was well with my soul at every corner. That was my goal for the year. Even in the midst of battling around round of depression, I tried to strive to have peace.

And I got to November and literally felt so far away from peaceful that I could not function. I was tested right at the end of the year to see if I would have peace. Would I have peace when I had a mental break from having way too much on my plate? Would I have peace when I was being asked to work full time while trying to run my own business, deal with my husband being gone, a double dosage of my meds screwing with my brain, and a craft fair to prep for? Would I have peace through losing one of my closest friends? Would I have peace traveling home? Would I have peace to deal with the holidays? Would I have peace through family heath issues?

2017 was not a very peaceful year. I had loved ones pass on, I lost touch with friends, I had others walk out of my life, my husband was gone half of the year, a close family member struggling with major health issues...It was not a place to easily find peace.

Especially at the end. I had to fight really really hard at the end for peace. And I do feel like I ended the year in a place of peace. And it has carried through.

So when choosing this new word for 2018, I wasn't sure what to pick. I was reading in Ephesians 6 about the armor of God and one word stood out very boldly to me.

A final word: Be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on all of God’s armor so that you will be able to stand firm against all strategies of the devil.

I started looking up what the word stand meant and more important what it meant to me.

The image that I have in my head is a solid place, my feet firmly planted as if they are set in cement. Like a tree that is in a hurricane, but is so strongly rooted that nothing is going to pull it out of the ground. Stand. In the face of fear, failure, sorrow, whatever this year brings. To stand and provide shelter for those around me, to stand and be a strong place for people to come and find their own peace.

And little did I know how hard that January alone would test me. Little did I know how making that choice to stand meant that everything was going to come and break me apart, knock me down and out.

It feels as if I have lived an entire year in this month alone. My soul is tired and weak.

First off I came back to my home, I left my family where I had been staying for a month. I left the constant presence of another person in the house somewhere close to me.

Then we were woken up by a missile incoming, take shelter message one Saturday. I called my family to tell them goodbye. I literally sobbed on the phone with my baby sister because I thought it was going to be my last time talking to her. My other sister started praying that God would protect me because she wasn't ready to let me go. I couldn't even get a hold of my mom because our phones were cut out and all I had was wifi. 38 minutes later they told us that it was an accident....big whoops so sorry we scared you all. People were literally putting their children into manholes and running across college campuses trying to get into a classroom without windows. I cried tears of fear that I was going to die. I cried goodbye, I am sorry that I will never see you graduate or get married or become a doctor or have kids or be a cop tears... I cried for my life.

Life altering tears. Life changing phone calls. Life shaking moments.

Then came being told that I need to see a physical therapist again. Being told that I need to look at options because all the hard work that I went through last year was undone.

Then came the government shut down and the threat of no paycheck.

Then came the tsunami warning.

Then came my husband telling me we still had no idea where we were moving.

Then came chest pain and an ER visit.

As I sat here tonight thinking that the only thing I had to be thankful about for this month was that it was one month closer to my husband being home....as I took a look at everything that January has held for me I realized,

I am being called to stand.

In the midst of this chaos, in the midst of the worst month I have had in a long time... I must stand.

Not just because it is my word and my goal for the year.

Not just because it is the right thing to do and God says so.

I must stand because there is a reason that I am being thrown down. There is a reason that I am being taken out right off the bat. There is a reason that I don't know yet that I need to be on my feet and ready for.

So as this month comes to a close, I am picking myself up from where life hit me full force. I am planting my feet. I am looking forward and telling the rest of the year, "Is that all you got for me?"

Because no matter what happens, I know the One who will give me the strength to stand in the midst of it all.

Thankful

Every year around this time everyone starts posting their thankfulness posts, usually one a day, of everything that they are thankful for. Good friends, puppies, coffee, love, etc. I always think I am going to do one of those everyday and I never do. So this year I decided to just do one blog post about it.

This has been a difficult year. In many ways it feels like this year has gone on forever. But in other ways, I cannot believe that it is almost over. It has not been an extremely hard year, but it has also not been an extremely easy one either.

Part of me believes that it has been an easier year because I am a stronger person. But part of me knows that a lot of that has to do with being on medication. Prozac saved my life. And finally I could focus on who I wanted to be as a person and work on myself. I was no longer held in chains by this soul sucking disease.

And then the disease got me again. Prozac has once again saved my life, at a higher dosage this time. But this time at the expense of a fully functioning brain.

You should record me some time. The amount of things that I forget in the process of 30 seconds at time is unnerving. I lose my phone like it is made of invisible glass. It needs a homing beacon because I have wasted at least a full 12 hours total looking for it a week.

I cannot really keep up with life at the moment. Sometimes I can barely think a full thought without getting confused and losing my place.

But I will gladly trade a few moments of that for the happiness and stability that I have. The solid ground that my feet are walking on. The fact that I am getting out of bed. I am functioning. So what if I have to repeat something to myself a few times before I remember it? It is practice for getting older right?

I am happy with where I am. Memory issues and all.

Because this year, my darkness only took 1/4 of my days. This year my darkness did not consume me alive. Because this year I got help before it was too late. Because this year I have spent time on myself and becoming who I want to be.

So this year I am thankful for unconventional things.

I am thankful that I went to a doctor.
I am thankful that I took a chance on a therapist. She might not have done anything for me, but she encouraged me to get my meds checked out and that did a lot more than her telling me I shouldn't be sad because I was beautiful.
I am thankful this year that I have made it a very intentional growing period.
I have shaped who I want to be.
I have gained confidence.
I have stopped running after people who have hurt me.
I have stood up for myself.
I have stood up for my beliefs.
I have stood up for others.
Even in the face of arguments with people close to me.
Even though it has made a lot of people mad at me.
I am thankful that I am the door and not the doormat anymore. I decide who to let in, not who gets to walk all over me.
I am thankful that I had a wonderful physical therapist who gave me so much healing.
I am thankful that for the months I spent in her office, some times crying, some times rejoicing, some times just simply there. In those months she truly took the time to feel what I felt. To cry with me, rejoice with me, and simply just be. She was a strong, take no shit, give no shit, woman. I learned a lot from her.
I am thankful that last night I put all my laundry away, even though I really did not want to.
I am thankful that I have friends who understand me and know what I need.
I am thankful for the friends who are there in the muck and the grime, with nothing but patience and love and forgiveness when I ask for it.
I am thankful for the friendships that I have lost this year. Each one has made me a much stronger person.
I am thankful for the boundaries that I have placed in my life.
I am thankful that I know what I will and will not allow from people.
I am thankful that I am reaching out for the help I need when I need it.
I am thankful that my job ended and then picked up again.
I am thankful that I started a new business.
I am thankful that I kicked a lot of people out of my life because when I did that it gave me a lot more room to truly and deeply love those who I wanted close to me.

Overall, I am thankful that I am me. That I am here. That I am who I am. That I do not care if you like me or not. That I don't care if so and so is mad at me because I stood up for myself. That I have the space in my life to focus on the few people that honestly mean the world to me. That I have made my circle small and powerful around me.

I am thankful for my honesty that has brought me to where I am.

Because I happen to really like the place that I am at in my life.

I am nowhere near perfect by any means! I am still working on me, and I will never be done. There will always be something that I can work on. But I am happy with where I am now. I do not feel the need to rush to become a better version of myself in the next 2 minutes.

I have grace for myself and my short comings and it has allowed me to grow even more this year.

I am thankful for peace.

Highly (but barely) functioning depression and my thoughts on changing my pattern...

I haven't been on here as much lately, because quite honestly, I barely make it out of bed.

I barely get up each day and feed myself. I barely do the simple tasks that are required to continue living. I can barely function. Tasks that would normally take me 2 minutes take me two hours.

And yet, I get up, I go to work, I laugh, I joke, I hang out with friends, I am happy and cheerful and fun.

From the outside, you would never know anything was wrong. You would never know that I have fallen into my ever present, ever looming, pit of despair. You would never know that once again, here I am, unable to cope, surrounded by darkness and fear.

You see, I *barely* do things. It takes an extreme amount of effort to do every task that is put in front of me. It is beyond exhausting to walk to the mail box. I can barely make dinner because that requires me to stand and think about how to cook and then I have to wash dishes. I order an extra large pizza twice in a row from Papa Johns because then I have something to eat for the week. I do the bare minimum required to function.

But if you ask me to go anywhere with you, I will shower and get dressed and look nice. I will show up with a smile, I will laugh with you, I will talk about everything. Then I will go home, and get into bed with those same clothes on and lay there watching tv until my brain decides to shut down. I will wake up the next day, lay in bed for an hour or two, go back to sleep for a couple more hours, and then I will get up, barely make it through my shower, barely get my to-do list for the day done, go to work and work for hours until I have nothing else to do, go home, and crawl into bed...to not sleep for like 4 hours to finally fall asleep to do it all over again.

You see I am functioning.

But barely.

And the barely makes me invisible. The barely makes me feel like it isn't that bad yet.

Yet.

What a scary word.

You see when you have walked down the same path over and over again, you start to notice the trends. You start to notice things like you don't actually see the sunset, you don't find things truly funny, smiling is a chore. You start to notice patterns. And you start to notice how everything starts.

See I am a high-functioning depressionist. Yes, I just made that word up.

I function at very high levels while also being at my very lowest.

It is what enabled me to hide my darkness from everyone in my life for years and years. I cannot tell you the amount of times that I heard, "What? YOU? You have depression? I would never have thought that."

There lies the danger. The danger in hiding.

Hiding from the world that the darkness is strangling you and you cannot breathe. Hiding from the world that there is a hole in you that you that you cannot mend. Hiding from those who love you that you need them.

It is how the, "I never thought he would take his life, I don't know why it happened," comments are made.

Because people like me, we function so well that people don't worry.

We are okay on the outside, so people forget to check in on us.

We can go to work and show up to gatherings and do everyday things, so we get missed.

And sometimes we miss it ourselves.

I still remember the day a few years ago that my aunt pointed it out to me. I remember sitting in her apartment in a huge sweatshirt, tired out of my mind, just got done with a 40 hour work week...but thinking that I was doing good. I was better than I was before. I wasn't crying every single night anymore, I thought I was doing great because I was functioning. But she said this to me...

"You don't look like you are doing good. You need to start taking better care of yourself. I can tell you aren't doing good right now. Are you sure you are okay?"

I remember thinking for a minute and then finding tears streaming down my face. She was right. I wasn't okay. I was better than I had been before, but I was not good. I was not okay. I was not on a healthy path. She noticed my pattern, and helped me to see it.

That night is still embedded in my mind.

I can see my own patterns now. And I have been reaching out for help this time! I have been telling people, hey I need you, I haven't left my house for anything but work in a week. Hey can you check in on me in the morning because I am not doing good tonight. Hey I need to you help me find a solution for certain things before Cody gets home. And sometimes I don't get the response that I need from people. And that is okay. Because this isn't easy. I know that it isn't. It isn't easy to be on the other end of it. And that is fine. I am not letting that burden me. I am not letting that make me back away from reaching out to someone else.

And sending those messages, is really hard for me. Sending a message, hey I can't get out of bed because the world is too heavy today, is a really crappy feeling. You feel weak. You feel broken. You feel needy and annoying.

Asking for help makes me feel selfish.

But I know that I am about to hit the next stage in my pattern which is total shut down. If I don't ask for help, I am not going to be able to function anymore.

My next stop on this train is not eating and dropping down to 100lbs again. My next stop is staying in the house for three weeks straight, barely getting out of bed except to use the bathroom once or twice a day. My next stop on this train...is a total wreck. And the only thing that kept me alive last time was my husband being home to feed me, and help me shower, and help me to the couch, and clean the house, and take out the trash.

That isn't an option this time. I cannot stop at the next stop. If I stop there this time, I will be alone. I will not have a husband home to help take care of me. I will be 100% alone for most of next year.

I have to change my pattern.

I have to ask for help.

I have to reach out.

Because I do not want to stop at the next stop. I don't want to go there again. So I have to change my path.

So maybe for a bit I have to be a bit selfish. Maybe I have to actually take from people instead of always being the giver. And I hope that I can find the balance in giving and learning to take as well. Because I need help this time and I know that I have to reach out.

And thank you to those who are there and have been there and understand. Thank you to those who know when I am losing it a bit and need help. Thank you to those who have shown up at my house and helped me leave it. Thank you to those who have texted and called and skyped... You are appreciated and you are my life support. I am forever in your debt, thank you for caring.

How do you get your hair to grow so long?

Okay so this is a different kind of post but a lot of people have been asking me lately how I get my hair to grow so long! So I figured that I would fill you all in on my secrets!

Secret #1: I live in a humid climate. I understand that I lot of you cannot change where you live, or don't want to...BUT the more time your hair has in humidity, the better. It really has helped my hair stay healthy and not brittle. So maybe some time in a steam room once a week would really help. Plus it is great for your scalp because lets be honest, your scalp is just skin and skin needs moisture too!

Secret #2: I RARELY blow dry my hair. And by rarely I mean like once every other week or so. When I do blow dry my hair, I let it sit in a towel to dry as much as I can before I take heat to it. The less heat time my hair has to endure the better!! And trust me when I say, if I blow dry straight out of the shower, it will take 30 minutes to get my hair to a damp state, because well humidity and the fact that I have so much hair!

Secret #3: I try to never brush my hair wet. Before I get in the shower I brush my hair out, and then I let it sit in a towel uncombed. I also blow dry my hair uncombed... It isn't until my hair is mostly dry again that I will brush it out and finish blowing it dry. This has greatly improved my breakage amount.

Secret #4: Heat protectant. Let me just say that I use this every time any form of heat is going to be touching my hair. Whether that is blow dryer, flat iron, SUNSHINE! The sun is a source of heat that we don't think to protect our locks from, but it is super important! I noticed a huge difference after I started using it before I went into the sun for a long time.

Secret #5: Every time I am in any form of water that is not a shower (pool, ocean, etc.) I apply leave in conditioner before I get in and the moment I get out. Now I have to say that from personal experience....you do not want to put this close to your hair line before you get it. It will run into your eyes and you will think someone lit your eyes on fire. I usually only cover the ends of my hair up until the pieces underneath hit my scalp. After I get out, I put that stuff on everything. I look crazy at the beach putting it in my hair, but my hair would be so damaged if I did not do this. Because the salt or chemicals in a pool really do a number on my strands by the time I am able to wash my hair out.

Secret #6: Even more rare than me using a blow dryer, is me using a flat iron. One, it is way too hot and by the time I step outside for ten minutes my nice straight hair has started to curl up. Two, it is so much work....Have you ever tried to straighten thick hair that is this long? It takes forever.... So if I want my hair a bit straighter, all I do is the ends and top layers (after I spray heat protectant of course). This cuts down on time and always cuts down on the amount of hair that is getting heat applied to it.

So basically summed up.... I use way less heat... If I want curls, I do braids or heatless curls.... If I want straight, I only straighten what I absolutely must. I only blow dry when I have to, and I protect from all kinds of heat! I don't brush it when it is wet and I use lots of stuff to keep moisture in it!

My favorite hair products are Marc Jacobs Oil of Morocco Argan Oil collection. I love the blow dry smoothing cream, it helps it to be less frizzy and easier to get a comb through! I use it even when I don't blow dry my hair! I LOVE the styling oil spray for when it is dry though! Because my hair tangles SO fast and this spray loosens my tangles without making my hair look oily or dirty. It keeps my hair from getting tangled throughout the day as well. LESS IS MORE with this stuff, you can make a bottle last foreverrrrr because it is so potent you need so little of it. You can find it at Ulta! I highly suggest looking at the links and finding some for yourself! It is cheap and I have had my bottles for about 6 months and still have some in them!

Anyways, sorry for the random post of today!

Love, Kiki

Calm in the ever raging storm...

To say that my faith has been weak lately is an understatement. I have been struggling, mostly the depression talking once again. Convincing me that no one cares, especially the One who created the universe. The darkness is all I'm seeing again.

Then recently we lost a family member...suddenly and unexpected. At the age of 10.

"How could You take her away?? How dare You?"

Now let me just start by saying that the loss I'm feeling is nothing compared to the loss that those closest to her are feeling. My feelings are so small compared to my aunt and uncle's grief. I can't fathom how much they are going through and this is not to take away from them at all. They are going through hell and that is not something I want anyone to think I am comparing my own sorrow with. This is just my current struggle and how this has effected me.

JoJo and I weren't close in age, so we didn't grow up together. Life has taken me away from my family so it had been a few years since I saw her. They joined our family a while ago, so I didn't have the privilege of knowing her from birth or anything like that. I just got a few holidays and times when we could all get together as a family. I didn't have years with her, I didn't have the chance to know her favorite color or what she would have wanted to be when she grew up.

You see as a military wife, you give up so much. You give up the privilege of seeing your family every holiday and birthday. You give up all the memories you could make with them, watching everyone grow up and experience life. You move away and people who are dear to your heart become distant. You lose touch, you can't call everyone and keep up with everyone. You lose touch. Plain and simple.

But you hold onto the hope that, this too shall pass. You'll be home eventually and you'll get back into their lives. There will be future holidays and family reunions, you can attend them and then you'll get to know everyone again. You will have the chance later. You hold onto to that for dear life. Because without that hope, the fact that you miss everything at home is crushing.

And then you fall smack into the reality that is not the case. You don't get to have that future. I am drowning in hopelessness wondering if I'll have the chance to be involved in my family's life again. Who will I never get the chance to make more memories with?  Who will I have to hold onto the memories I have, knowing I missed out on so much of their lives and I'll never get the chance to make up for that?

I was already standing on the edge of my darkness again. Battling with depression once again. My ever present friend/enemy. And this was the push over the edge.

How could a God who could have stopped this, just stand by and let it happen? How dare He take her when she didn't even have the chance to fully experience life.

"How could you?"

I know God can handle my questions. I know He can take my faith being weak. If He couldn't I wouldn't believe in Him.

Here is the conclusion that I have come to as I sit crying silently on the plane.

Life sucks. Period. Life is just made to destroy us. Its science, everything is going to a state of decay at all times. Life hits you hard, sometimes wave after wave, sometimes with a tsunami. Life is brutal. It doesn't care about you.

God didn't say that He came to save us from life. He didn't say that suddenly life would love you and stop being an ass. If that is how life worked, a lot more people would believe in God simply for a get through life easy pass.

No, the storms will still hit you. And they will make you fear for your life. They will rock your boat, they will toss you around, they might even throw you overboard. But the difference is, you have someone in your boat with His arms outstretched, ready to take over when you can't grip the sail anymore, when you have fallen out. He is present at all times to calm us and give us peace beyond understanding. He didn't say He would save us from every storm, but He promised to be in them with us. He promised us His love and grace at every moment of the calm and the storm.

So the calm that I am finding in my heart right now is this: this life is not all I get. I have eternity to know and love and be with my family. I am not limited to the memories I have with JoJo on earth.

And until I see you again, I'll hold onto the memories that I do have with you. I will hold onto your smile and your laugh.

It is not fair that you are gone. That will probably never make sense to me. I will always carry regret I couldn't know you longer and more. But I won't lose my hope because someday, we can make up for the lost time.

Keep an eye on us okay? See you soon.

If you would like to donate to my family, here is the gofundme link. Please keep my family in your prayers and thoughts this week as they lay to rest their child, something one should never have to do.

 https://www.gofundme.com/c7a3t-in-memory-of-johanna

Also a huge thank you to my friend who made it possible for me to come home for the funeral. You are a bleeding from God, truly an angel walking on the earth. Thank you will never be enough...

A story I don't really want to tell...

The third appointment was the hardest one yet...and the whole reason that I am writing out my journey down this road... This is full of just broken thoughts and pieces, and I am sorry for the choppy writing. I cannot quite find words to say what I need to say...

I thought that I was going in for a purely physical fix to my problem.

It is called physical therapy right?

Well I forgot the therapy word was in there.

Most my appointments go with me doing exercises on my own, kegel mostly while working on other parts of my body, shoulders, back, etc. After I am done with those, Joanna stretches out the muscles in my hips and then works on other muscles in my back, shoulders, neck, pretty much where I am tight. The goal is to get my body to relax and release all the tension so that I can have sex without dying.

Let me tell you, I have a love hate relationship with the muscle portion of the appointment. She is very gentle to your muscles, trying to just get them to relax and release the tension and built up knots on their own. Which is the love part... the hate part is this...

I did not know you could hold so many emotions and broken pieces in your body. I thought emotions were purely in your head that that is where they stayed...

That is wrong. And if you want to argue that with me, talk to my back every time I stretch it how tears come running down my face. Or how after she corrected my neck and stretched my spine out I broke into a million pieces and could not hold it together for the whole next week.

I have been to therapy for the things that I have been crying over. I have cried nights and nights, months of tears for the things that I am crying about.

And still they keep coming...

Please read this next part of my story with a little bit of respect, knowing that I have never really fully shared this with most of the people reading this. It is not something that I enjoy talking about. It is not something that I want to share. I do not share it for your sympathy or for any other reason than the fact that it is important. Because I know that it has happened to more people than I can possibly know. I want people to know that they can talk about it too. I want people to feel safe and loved and know that it happens to others too.

When I turned 18, I found that the world did not give me the freedom that I felt I earned. I got good grades, I followed all the rules, I went above and beyond what was expected of me at every turn. I went to college early, I didn't go out and party on the weekends, I read my Bible almost daily, I went to church every single week, usually more than twice a week. I made it to 18 without kissing a boy, even though I was with someone for about 2 years. I did it right. I am not saying that to brag, I am saying that because I was a stuck up little prude who followed the rules and the worst thing she ever did was prank the boys hotel room while on a trip with the youth group. And even at that, I was the lookout because I couldn't actually do the pranking without freaking out.

But I just found that the rules placed on me were harder than before. More responsibility was given, yet zero freedom was given in return. I felt trapped.

I broke up with my boyfriend of 2ish years right before I turned 18. He was verbally, emotionally, and mentally abusive. I do not say this lightly. I could not speak to any boys. I could not text boys without first sending him the text, getting his revised version that he wanted me to say instead, and then waiting for a response from the boy, and starting it all over again. I could not get mad or hurt or upset about anything because it was always my fault. "I did that because you did this and this and this." If I made him mad, I got hours of silence in return for my trying to make things better. If I made him really mad, he would just threaten to leave me somewhere with no transportation. I was never "giving him what he needed." I loathe words of affirmation, because he shoved it in my face to literally make me tell him all the things that I loved about him while I was hurting and broken by his actions. I ended things because I could not take being made to feel invalid and invisible any longer.

We were young. We were immature. I am not saying that I did everything right, but I am saying I walked out a very very broken woman. But I also walked out with a, "I won't take sh*t from anyone, if you don't like that get out of my way" attitude.

Well I found myself liking this guy.... totally different from my first boyfriend. 5 years older than me, had a car he bought himself, had a job and did great at it, showed up to work on time, worked hard.

He would text me back. He took my honesty. He talked about the hard things with me. He understood the broken and just let me be.

I told him from day 1, there will be no kissing, no sex, nothing of that sort. NOTHING. AT. ALL.

I remember conversations with him telling me, I like you for more than that, a guy can want to spend time with you for more than sex, I am okay with that completely.

I slowly found out he was a man-whore. I mean that to the very extent of the word. His number of women at 23 probably exceeded double digits.

I also found out after everything that had happened.....that he also was trying to see how long it would take him to bang the virgin with most everyone we worked with.

One night we are just watching a movie, nothing fancy... And he kissed me. I was not happy. AT ALL. I had been saving my first kiss for my wedding day. But all he said was, "It was your job to make sure I didn't."

Well after that happened I was just like, well its done now so I guess I am kissing people.

He was so nice to me... He would take me on picnics and we would ride our bikes together a million times around a lake just to talk. He had me try new things, like rock climbing and riding a motorcycle. He never got mad at me, he never ignored me. He was sweet and romantic.

Then one night I find out that my grandma's cancer had come back again and this was probably it for her because she barely survived it last time. I was devastated. I go over to his house to cry and talk...

I find him semi-drunk and very happy to see me.

We talk and I cry a lot... and we end up laying in his bed kissing. And things went down hill from there. I do not want to talk about the specifics because it is still very real and hard for me to talk about. Nothing happened to me, but it almost did. The terror that I felt in that moment, the fear of not knowing how I was going to stop him from screwing me, how was I going to get away from that situation. I can still feel his hands in places that I do not want them in. I can still feel the weight of being pinned in a bed. All I could think of at this moment is, don't let your fear show so he won't fight you getting away anymore. Leave without letting him know how you are terrified or he will push further.

Here are the thoughts that I think that you are thinking right now and why I hate talking about this:

You kissed him and you knew he was drunk...what did you expect?
Nothing actually happened, so what is the big deal?
You liked him, so what was the problem?
He obviously didn't rape you so where is the problem in it?


Here is what I wrote in my journal over and over again a few nights ago.

I did not ask to be kissed, I did not want that. I did not initially want that at all. Sure I kissed him after that, I own up to that. But in the end, he did something I said a very firm no to.
I did not want the sexual advances. I wanted to be comforted and instead I got grabbed and smashed and violated.
I said no to sex. And he pushed. And touched where he was not invited, and tried to push where he was unwelcome.

These things happened to me. By someone I trusted, cared for, shared my emotions and heart with.

I hated myself. Literally hated myself. I would drive and scream at the top of my lungs and cry until I had no more tears. I couldn't talk about it. I couldn't tell my parents that this had happened because I didn't want to answer questions or get in trouble or being in that position. I hated that I let myself be in that position. I couldn't take what I knew people would tell me, nothing happened get over it you went there it isn't that big of a deal you weren't actually raped.

I talk to a counselor. I worked through things. I talked and talked and talked until I was blue in the face and my eyes fell out from crying.

Imagine for a moment not being able to get close to anyone again without the fear that they would rape you. Imagine not being able to be trust anyone because what if they tried too? I couldn't trust anyone because I trusted him when he said, "I don't want to have sex with you, I can want to be around you without wanting to hit that." I couldn't trust myself to believe those words again.

I still get flashbacks... When my husband, who is safe and loving and kind, touches me in the same way, I have an anxiety attack and cannot breathe or move. I am always looking over my shoulder, I am always on edge. I am overly self-aware so that I don't give anyone the wrong ideas ever again. I live(d) in fear. And silence. Because who would understand?

Here is the conclusion that I have recently come to:

If someone does something to you that you do not want, it is assault. It is trauma to you and to your body and mind. Unwanted advances are assault.

Keep reading that until you believe it. Keep saying it over and over again until in your heart of hearts you truly believe it.

I am still trying to take hold of it myself.

What happened to me, has had a profoundly negative physical effect on me and my body.

Joanna says that we hold things in our muscles, women hold them right in their hip muscles. Trauma especially. Our body is trying to protect itself. That is all it knows. Flight or fight. Don't let this happen.

Emotions are not simply in your heart, they can be held in your muscles as well.

This is already a long post so I will end with this and pick it up later.

If you have ever had anything unwanted happen to you, it is not your fault. You do not have to carry the blame for it. It is not your fault. And it is okay that it was traumatic to you. Accept that so that you can work through it better. Do not try to down play what happened to you. Let it effect you and get help for it.

I am here to listen or answer questions if you want to know more.

Just because someone has it worse, does not mean that you cannot be broken by what happened to you.

Cheerleader

You know that feeling when you finally see the light at the end of the tunnel only to realize that it is a freight train coming right for you?

Yeah, that was me a few days after seeing my physical therapist.

I get a letter from my insurance company in the mail.

"Your approval claim has been denied. You are not covered to see this doctor blah blah blah.... If you want to appeal this claim, your service member will have to contact us directly."

Heart attack. Then heart break... Then full blown break down.

They just sent me an approval, how is it denied?? What do you mean denied? Only my husband can talk to you?? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?? He cannot call from a submarine to deal with an insurance matter! You are out of your mind!

Terror. What if I cannot get the help I need? What if I have to pay out of pocket?? I don't know how long this will take to heal and get better... What if...it takes a year? I can't afford that. Not in Hawaii on a sailor's salary. No way. Not when I lose my job at the end of January!

So my next appointment I go in to see her...

And I don't even want to bring it up. I really don't. I just want to pretend that I can still keep coming and that I am going to get better... That everything is perfect.

But everything I am nervous about/have an anxiety attack over, whenever I bring it up to her she puts me at such ease.

She immediately gets her part time secretary on the phone with Tricare (my insurance company), because they received two letters as well, one of approval and one of not... And she gets it sorted out before I even leave her office.

She fought for me. And made it very clear that she would continue to fight for me through everything.

So anyways, I am doing all these exercises, contract and release muscles, more than kegel exercises, finding a way to fully relax every muscle. And then at the end of our session she works on the muscles in my back...

Now I have to point out to you, that I have a knot on each side of my spine that runs down the length of my spine into my hips. And I have solid shoulders...not from muscle. From all the knots and tension. My back is solid. And tense.

But have your ever tried so hard to do something that when you don't succeed you just want to start crying? It is discouraging... Very very discouraging...

And I said that, with tears streaming down my face as she asked me to do something and I could not. Physically could not do it. I just started crying... "It is so discouraging... I can't do it."

"That is why I am here! To cheer you on when you are discouraged. Because this is a process and it does not have to be over night.

"I am your cheerleader."

That to me meant the world. Because there was finally someone in my corner who had my back. Who was okay with, I cannot do this, I am struggling and crying because I want this so bad but I just cannot get there right now.

I need that. As someone who demands perfection from myself at every point. I need that. I need to know that it is not a failure, nor a set back, it is just something that will come later on.

Relief. Complete relief.

Maybe I can fix this and repair the holes in my marriage after all.