Life As an Afterschool Special

Last night was a crazy night. At three am I hear the door bell ringing like someone is laying on it. I am frustrated, but I throw on my robe and turn on my light and look out the window. The ringing stops, but I cant see who is at the door and they dont answer when I yell. My heart is pounding but after checking to make sure my roommate is home (she is), I decide it may be some kid or some drunk person and go get a drink from my bathroom to calm myself.

Then I hear someone trying to get into the back door, so I yell that I am going to call the police, and shut my bedroom door and dial 911. I tell them I have a protection order and I think someone may be trying to get into my house and I ask them to send a car to see.

Then I call a few friends just to process and calm myself down.

After I hang up I hear this loud crash and then someone tries to open the door to my actual apartment. I yell that I am calling the police and hear them run down the stairs.

I laid in bed awake for most of the night. In the morning I called one of my best friends Kathy to tell her I the story. I say “Oh I think some kids or some drunk was trying to play a joke”

But when leave the house I find my backdoor kicked in and the lock broke.

Ok, Not so much a joke.

So I go to the landlords and say “What happened last night” and my landlord replies that he has no idea what I am talking about.

I ask if anyone rang his doorbell and he said no. I tell him the events of last night and he comes and looks at the door with me.

I decide I need to call the police again and actually file a report.

The police comes and I show him my Ohio Protection Order. He says I need to show him my MN protection order and gives me the number of the domestic abuse people he works with so I can get a copy.

I call them and they say my Ohio PO is just as valid. And I am furious. Are you kidding me?! After all the drama of the past month?!

I go back to the officer and tell him what I just heard, and he said they are wrong. So I call the people when I am front of him and thenthe police man talks to them.

They tell him according to some law in 1994 PO are valid in all 50 states, US territories, and on Reservations. He says they are wrong and he is calling the DA to confirm this information.

At this point he gives me his direct line and promises he will find all this out and get back to me.

I HATE THE SYSTEM.

AND SOMEONE BROKE DOWN MY DAMN DOOR.

And it wasnt a robber because they didnt take anything or even try to take anything, because a cd player and other things were left in the stairwell untoched. And Robbers dont usually ring your bell and then still try to break in after they discover you are clearly home.

And agian… I HATE THIS SYSTEM.

The police office (who is my new favorite) does call me back. He tells me that my PO from Ohio was valid and I didnt need one from MN. He says almost no one knows this so the Cheof of police is going to send out a memo informing the rest of the police. And I control myself and dont yell. But in my head I am yelling.

GAH. STUPID STUPID STUPID SYSTEM WHERE NO ONE EVER KNOWS WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON AND THEY JUST MAKE EVERYTHING WORSE. POLICE DONT KNOW< LAWYERS DONT KNOW AND I HATE EVERYONE. THANKS FOR GIVING MY EX MY ADDRESS YOU STUPID JERKS.

The officer is very nice and says to keep his direct line and gives me the DAs direct line. He says if I ever see my ex to call him and they will arrest him.

The good news is I finally found a friend and advacate in the stupid system. The bad news is my landlord is pissed, my door is broken, I never had to report my change of address, and I am still a little scared.

So… I could use prayers. For peace, and patience, and protection.

You’ve got to get yourself together
You’ve got stuck in a moment
And you can’t get out of it
Don’t say that later will be better
Now you’re stuck in a moment
And you can’t get out of it

And if the night runs over
And if the day won’t last
And if your way should falter
Along this stony pass

It’s just a moment
This time will pass

U2~ Stuck in a Moment

I woke up this morning and took a deep breath and thought “I am ok” and I meant it. Despite all things that have gone wrong the past few weeks (with Bob and Matt and Amy and my car and money and looking for a roommate) I really am ok.

And it has nothing to do with my “box”

It is because I have learned when everything else is falling apart, when I feel most alone, that is when God is most near. He is comfort and strength and rest.

And I am ok because I have amazing people in my life who love me and care for me and support me.

My family encourages me and prays for me and loves me unconditionally. The hope for me, and they believe in me. Even though they are far away I know I am cared for.

And I have friends who have become family, and who have let me lean on them. On Sunday night I sent a text to a few friends saying only “Can I sleep on your couch. I need a friend”

Every single one of them called me back immediately and listened to me cry and offered comfort and support. One friend text me back and said “Stay where you are, I am coming to you” and picked me up and took me to her house and made me laugh.

My friends have slept at my house and let me sleep at their house this week, and they have come over and helped clean out the mess my roommate left and organize and taken me out to dinner. And yesterday when my car broke down a dear friend sat at Dunn Brothers for over three hours and waited with me while the tow truck came. (This is where I have to add not only did my car break down, but I got a parking ticket because of it. Ha.)

And this morning I got a text from a friend who offered to take me to her parents cabin this weekend. Her text said, “Cabin this weekend. Sex in the City Season one and two. Wine. Red or white?”

I am going to lie in the sun and drink white wine and watch Sex in the City.

And I am going to be ok. Because I am loved. And this time will pass.

It’s been a hard year
But I’m climbing out of the rubble
These lessons are hard
Healing changes are subtle
But every day it’s

Less like tearing, more like building
Less like captive, more like willing
Less like breakdown, more like surrender
Less like haunting, more like remember

And I know you’re here
And you’re picking up the pieces
Forever faithful
It seemed out of my hands,
a bad, bad situation
But you are able

And in your hands the pain and hurt
Look less like scars
And more like
Character

Sara Groves

I relate my emotions to music. I think that it’s hard for me to be honest about how I feel a lot of the time… but I can listen to a song and yes… thats it… that is exactly what I want to say.

My friend Susan once sent me a series of mixed cds she called Beauty in the Breakdown… I have listened to them so many times some of them no longer play… They cover the stages of grief, and are wonderfully sad and heartbreaking and encouraging and uplifting.

One of the songs I tend to play over and over is Less like Scars by Sara Groves. I am not sure if it is an example of where I am or where I want to be…

But I am changing…

I don’t know when it happened…

But it is happening.

There is strength in me that I never knew existed. There is a peace that transcends understanding. There is calm below every storm.

I am not at all where I want to be… but I am walking, running, crawling in the direction I want to go.

The truth is I am tired. I am so so so tired. I am tired of looking for love and fulfillment in things that leave me broken and empty and lost. I am tired of lying to myself and to others about what I think and how I feel. I am tired of the fear of rejection and living for the approval of others. Because they fail you. They fall short. You fall short.

I am tired of falling and I am tired of struggling and I am tired of fighting.

But the difference is I continue to fight. The difference is I continue to believe in goodness and truth and happiness and love and faith, not as childish dreams that may or may not be real but as promises from a loving and good God.

And the biggest change is I truly know that all of today’s struggles are temporary compared to the greater joy that comes when we have perservered.

There is always something better.

There is always hope.

I sat down to type out my feelings and expected to write something dark, and brooding, and melancholy. But as I sat here and thought about my circumstances and my life, instead of feeling hopeless I felt hope. Instead of feeling overwhelmed I felt grateful to know there was a God who loved me and protected me and carried me through every trial and tribulation. And who would carry me through this.

It’s been a hard year… but I’m climbing out of the rubble.

I am changing…

It has been a year.

One year.

I know I wrote last week about how hard everything is.. and sometimes it IS still really hard. I still am really angry, and I am still learning how to deal with the emotions and consequences of everything that happened the past year.

There have so many times this year that I have been brought to my knees in tears and thrown my hands up at God and told him this was all too hard, too much.

There has been so many times this year that I could only focus on the next minute, the next hour, because tommorow seemed so hard and so far away.

There were so many times this year when I didnt think I could handle the pain, or the fear, or the anger.

But I am.

I am strong.

I am brave.

I am not just surviving. I am thriving. I am growing. I am changing.

I am overcoming.

And it isnt easy.

And I know that may seem completely contridictory to what I wrote last week. And somedays I still cry and some days I still throw my hands up at God and say it is too hard and too much.

But I am overcoming.

And I will overcome.

A good friend recently sent me a mixed cd.

He is one of the few people who really really knows me… both when I am silly and flirty and fun and messy and complicated and angry. He is the kind of friend I have been through the fire with… and because of that I appriciate his friendship greatly.

I have been listening to one of the songs on the CD over and over the past few weeks, and even though it is super cheesy, it reminds me that there are so many people that believe in me and hope for me and love me, that I am not alone, and that the best is yet to come… if I just wait

If ever you are feeling like youre tired
And all your uphill struggles leave you headed downhill
If you realize your wildest dreams can hurt you
And your appetite for pain has drinken its fill

I ask of you a very simple question
Did you think for one minute that you are alone
And is your suffering a privilege you share only
Or did you think that everybody else feels completely at home

Just wait
Just wait
Just wait
And it will come

If you think Ive given up on you youre crazy
And if you think I dont love you well then youre just wrong
In time you just might take to feeling better
Time is the beauty of the road being long

I know that now you feel no consolation
But maybe if I told you and informed you out loud
I say this without fear of hesitation
I can honestly tell you that you make me proud

Just wait
Just wait
Just wait
And it will come
Just wait
Just wait
Just wait
And it will come

If anything I might have just said has helped you
If anything I might have just said helped you just carry on
Your rise uphill may no longer seem a struggle
And your appetite for pain may all but be gone

I hope for you and cannot stop at hoping
Until that smile has once again returned to your face
Theres no such thing as a failure who keeps trying
Coasting to the bottom is the only disgrace

Just wait
Just wait
Just wait
And it will come

Just Wait~ Blues Traveler

Thank you to thoes who gave your love, and your strength, and your time, and your friendship the past year… I am because of you. I love you.

I don’t know why I always run
is it fear of the fall or fear of the touch
And I don’t know where the angels sleep

And I don’t know how to really love
I’ve never stood still long enough
And I don’t know where the angels sleep

But I am alive and standing strong
I’m no farther forward, just farther along
I hold on to my pride and dig in deep
It’s pulling me down, and I am no closer to release
And I don’t know where the angels sleep

I don’t know how to see you now
The friend from before is different somehow
And I don’t know where the angels sleep

And I don’t know when I’ll love again
But I don’t trust myself to just let you in
And I don’t know where the angels sleep

It’s taken ten thousand days
To get stuck in my ways
And it offers no grace
I cannot stand this place
With love in my face
I walk away slowly

I don’t know where the angels sleep
No, I don’t know where the angels sleep

~Bebo Norman Where the Angels Sleep

I have been very light-hearted in my posts as of late… but right now my mind is full and my heart is heavy and I NEED to write.

This may all come out as a ramble, but i need what is happening in my heart and in my head to make sense… to become black and white, to fit into words and sentences that I can hold to.

Right now it is all just too much.

I want to crawl in a black hole and shut the world out. I want to recoil into myself and not allow anyone near… Not allow anyone in. Not that I think that very many people want to be near. But I just want to shut out everyone and everything that may hurt me or use me.

I am so upset my hands are shaking as I type this.

I met to my pay-a-friend at lunch today. Our 30 minute session lasted 50 minutes. And I only left because I was upset and had to go back to work.So now I am sitting at work shaking and upset and trying so very hard to tell myself I am fine and be cheerful and friendly to people who walk by and call, and to not burst into tears. My last two counseling sessions have been miserable…
I have decided I don’t like my counselor. I HAVE liked her for the past seven months…. But now I don’t.

On June 8th it will be one year since he attacked me.

I think it is strange how much that date means to me… how significant it is in my life. But my counselor says that is very normal… it’s an anniversary of a death of a sort, and it natural and important to grieve it. But she also says it’s the anniversary of a new beginning, and it natural and important to celebrate it.

One year since my ex fiancée attacked me.

Its almost funny to me that I still say nice phrases like “attacked me” and “assaulted” me when speaking of the night. I talked with my counselor about that today… about how “that” word sticks in my throat and is so so hard for me to say even now.

We talked about the details of what happened that day…

I HATE talking about details…

When I was still in Columbus my counselor had me write out what happened that night and how I felt as it was happening and as I wrote it. It was so hard to do, and after I was done I read it aloud to my counselor, to Katie, and to Erica and Amy, and then I never read it again. I have let other people read it, but I don’t.

Because I would rather NOT remember.

It makes me sad, and it makes me angry. And I think that is NORMAL and FINE. My counselor thinks I still put things in my box. She thinks that I haven’t dealt fully with my emotions, and specifically I haven’t dealt with my anger. She said we need to talk about what has happened more specifically, so I can see how I lost control and then see how I took it back. She thinks it is empowering. I think it is horrible and hard. She said I need to allow myself to get angry.

I told her I don’t want to get angry. I want to get BETTER. She said I have to get angry in order to get better. That I can’t be afraid of my own emotion or hurt or anger.

But I am.

There is a hurt that is so deep that you think you will never ever heal. There is a grief that washes over you in tidal waves. There is anger so real and so raw you think it may consume you.

It isn’t even anger… it rage. It is consuming and horrible and I hate feeling this way.

I try so very hard to move on, to forget, to heal. I don’t know what more to do. I moved away, I took back control, I opened up to my closest friends, and I found a counselor and have continued to go at least once a week for the past 10 months.

But I don’t know how to deal with my anger.

It’s too much.

And I don’t want people to look at me and think I shouldn’t feel this way, or that I am being overdramatic.

I don’t know how to trust anyone enough to let them in.

Most people don’t know that when my ex fiancée was younger he tried to kill someone.

He and another friend beat this man up and tied him to a chair and whipped him with electrical cords. Then they poured gasoline on him and tried to catch him on fire, but the match didn’t light and they got caught. He was arrested and charged with attempted murder, which got pleaded down to aggregated assault.

He said he changed, and I wanted to trust him… but when he got angry and said he would kill me… I believed him. I really did think he would kill me. I still do.

Most people don’t know that.

Most people don’t know how he would get angry with me, and push me, and shake me, and pin me in corners and hit me, and then blame me for making him angry.

Most people don’t know that on more than one occasion I made me mad enough to choke me, and his fingers closed around my throat and I clawed at his arms and when he finally let go I had little bruises where he fingers had pressed hard into my skin.

Most people don’t know about how he would look at me with such anger and hate in his eyes and tell me that I was stupid, and ugly, and hard to put up with, and hard to love. And I would feel so unlovable, and so horrible, and so ashamed.

Most people don’t know how when I wanted to leave he would yell and threaten me, or he would turn and say he loves me, and no one would ever love me the way he did, and that God had a plan for us, and God said we were supposed to be together.

Most people don’t know how he would come to my house and use the hidden key to get in, and how when we hid the key he would pound on my door and scream at me and threaten me.

Most people don’t know that when I was in Minneapolis I would have to call Brian or Tim, or even the police crying, and ask them to come to my house at 2 am because Matt was outside and I was afraid, and I really thought he would hurt me.

And most people don’t know that even after I went to Ohio and broke off my engagement and even after he attacked me he would still come to house and terrorize me. And I would stay after night at my parents house or I would call the police and I would call Lisa and Brian and Steve and Amy and my sister, and they would come over and stay with me and stay up late and sleep on the floor because I was so afraid.

I still am afraid.

Most people don’t know fear like that.

But I do.

I know what its like to lie in bed and imagine every sound and every shadow is someone coming to hurt you. And how you can’t even convince yourself that it isn’t true because the reality is that it could be true. The reality is he has hurt you, in the worst imaginable way.

I know what it’s like to replay those awful images in your head again and again and relive them over and over every time you shut your eyes and attempt to sleep.

And it makes me ANGRY.

I AM angry.

I am angry that I am still so afraid.

I am angry that he hurt me.

I am angry that he said he loved me.

I am angry that he came to my house and threw me down and fucked me on my kitchen floor like it didn’t matter. Like I didn’t matter.

I am angry that he violated me. I am angry that he betrayed me. I am angry that he took something from me.

I am so angry that he said he loved me while he hurt me. I am so angry that he used God to justify what he did.

I am angry that I had to go to the police, I am angry that I had to go to court, I am angry that I had to testify, and I am angry that I had to get a protection order.

I am angry that I had to talk about the details again and again, with the doctors at the hospital, and the police, and the lawyers, and the judge, and my counselor. And each time it was like… reliving it all over again.

I am angry that even after I got a protection order he still terrorized me. He still wouldn’t leave me alone.

I am angry that I had to move far far away just to get him to leave me alone.

I am angry that I opened the stupid door without thinking on June 8th. I am angry that I didn’t fight harder and wasn’t stronger and wasn’t braver.

I am angry that I ever loved him. I am angry that I ever believed in him. I am angry that I ever kissed him or let him touch me or hold me, I am angry that I ever trusted him, I am angry that I ever felt sorry for him.

I am angry that I don’t hate him as much as I want to. I am angry that I am sad for him, and that a part of me still worries for his walk with God.

I am angry because my life was so changed… emotionally, mentally, physically… on that day… and his was not.

I am angry because there was no justice… because he hurt me so so so deeply and just went on with life. And I want there to be justice.

And I am angry because I don’t trust myself. I don’t trust my choices. And I don’t trust very many people enough to let them in.

I am angry. And I don’t want anyone to tell me that I shouldn’t be.

The truth is I want someone to get angry with me and for me. I want them to want justice. I want someone to protect me and promise me that they would keep me safe and they wouldn’t allow anything like this to ever happen again. And that if my ex fiancée came they would punch him in his stupid face for hurting me.

I want someone to hold me and let me cry and let me yell and just let me be angry.

I want someone to understand.

But I am not sure anyone can.

And I don’t want to be hurt.

And I don’t want to be used.

And so I just want to shut everyone and everything out.

Because I am hurt, and broken, and so so so angry.

But I am not sure I trust myself enough to just let you in.

Introspection can be dangerous…

In the movie Eternal Sunshine for the Spotless Mind the main characters undergo a procedure to erase their memories.

They feel like life would be less complicated if they didn’t have to deal with the consequence of love and loss.

And today I am wondering if given the opportunity, I would erase my memories of the past year.

I am feeling overwhelmed and I am feeling terribly sad today.

Last night I called my parents and my sister crying.

On June 8th it will be one year since Matt attacked me.

In so many ways it feels like a lifetime ago.

And then something happens and I am right back in that space.

And I hate that space.

Yesterday I discovered someone is suing me.

I have no idea who.

All I know is it is a civil suit from Ohio.

And one of my friends suggested it could be Matt.

He said it would be a good way to try to find me.

And it set me in a tailspin.

Chances are that isn’t true at all.

But the thought of him coming here, of him finding me, of seeing him again terrifies me.

It’s an overwhelming fear.

I hate that space.

I hate that I am still afraid of him.

I hate that he still has that power over me.

I hate that I feel like no matter how hard I try I am not changing, and not healing.

I hate that I want someone to love me, to protect me, to fight for me.

I hate that I want someone to wrap their arms around me and remind me that I am safe, and kindly kill my fears as well.

I hate that I want someone to exorcise and slay the demons one by one.

I hate that no one can.

I hate that this is a journey I have to take by myself.

And I hate that it’s lonely.

And I hate that it’s hard.

I spent much of yesterday thinking about the past year, and how far I have come, and how far I still have to go.

How can you pick up the shattered pieces of your heart and hold them in your hand and ever be the same?

You can’t.

It’s funny to me how life changes so suddenly… how one moment, one night, one knock at the door and everything you knew changes.

You are forever changed.

But how?

How do you gauge the healing of your heart?

How do you remember what you were a lifetime ago?

For so long Matt told me that I was hard to love, and unlovable, and hard to put up with.

He hated my craziness, my spontaneity, my sarcasm, my teasing, and my flirtiness.

He always wanted me to be so different than I was.

And so I tried to change for him… and I started to lose who I really was.

And now I am afraid I will never find her. And I won’t recognize her when I do.

And so I wonder…

Who am I? Am I healing? Am I different? How am I different? How am I any further along than I was a year ago? Am I stronger? Am I wiser?

Because I can the handle the memories, I can handle the loneliness, I can even handle the fear… but I can’t handle knowing that it was all for nothing. I need to know I have changed.

I am angry today.

Not frusterated.

Not annoyed.

Not even hurt.

I am ANGRY.

And it feels good.

It feels good to yell and swear and cry and just be angry.

It feels good to not make excuses for how I feel or sugar coat it or blame myself for feeling that way.

And the truth is it really isnt one person or one thing making me angry.

Its all these layers of hurt and resentment that I have pretended for so long didnt exist.

Its because I have so often felt hurt and used and then apologized for feeling that way.

Its years of thinking my opinions and my feelings dont matter as much as other peoples do.

And it has built up and built up and now I want to explode.

And so I am ANGRY.

Even if its just for a moment.

It feels good to be expressive.

It feels good to yell.

And I am not even sure I am sorry.

I am sure I WILL be sorry.

But right now I am just ANGRY.

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I lied.

When I said I was strong.

When I said I was ok.

When I said I was taking back control.

It was a lie.

I want to be strong for the people who love me. I want to be ok because they want it so badly for me. I want to be normal for them. But it is a lie.

What happened to me is just as real right now as it was two months ago.

And even though people around me move on, stop talking about it, and stop asking questions, it is just as much a part of my everyday life as it was.

It isn’t just something that happened to me….it’s a part of who I am and who I have become.

I am afraid people are tired of my tears, not because they don’t love me, but because they do. They want to believe I am happy, that I am better, that I am strong.

And so I fight, more for them then for myself.

I fight and smile and say I am strong when I know it is a lie.

And I cant do it anymore.

I just can’t.

And there is nothing anyone can say to make it better. I dont understand why this is all happening or when it will stop. It is beoynd reason and explaination. There is no explanation, no words, no way to make sense of any of this or a way to make it right.

It doesnt change anything.

This week I saw him, and everything came to a screeching halt.

I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t think, I couldn’t move.

I felt powerless all over again.

Then I willed myself to shift gears and keep driving. I lied to myself and said it didn’t matter and I was strong, but I wasn’t.

This week I came home from work and the door was unlocked. I walked inside and heard noise coming from the downstairs bathroom.

I ran out of the house and called Brian and Lisa to come to my house and make sure someone wasn’t in it.

I stood in my backyard for ten minutes and tried to convince myself not to panic and that I was safe.

And when Brian and Lisa came over and checked my house (my dog was locked in the bathroom) I didn’t panic.

I smiled and thanked them and let them go and lied to myself and to them and said it was ok even though I was terrified and I wanted them to stay.

This week a cop that was called to my house said that my ex finace was going to kill me or get caught trying. He said he has worked countless cases like mine, and they all have the same ending.

I lied to myself and to him and said that I was ok, that I was strong, that I was different then all those other woman, even though I know I am not.

This week I got into fights with the people I am closest to. And I was left feeling even more alone, more discouraged, and more afraid then before.

And then I lied to both myself and to them, and said it was ok and that I felt better, even though I was terrified I was losing them and just wanted and needed reassurance…

This week I walked into the kitchen as my sister called me to make sure everything was ok, and while she was on the phone someone knocked on the back door.

I screamed.

I paniced.

I physically, emotionally, and mentally flashed back to what had happened in that spot, while I was on the phone, two months ago.

It was like no time had passed.

I could see him, I could smell him, I could feel him even though I was all alone in the kitchen.

Erica yelled into the phone to see why I had screamed, and Steve yelled at the back door that it was ok, it was just him.

And I stood frozen and didn’t answer either of them.

It was so so real to me. And when I finally did open the door I didn’t know how to explain to Erica and Steve what exactly happened.

Because to them it was just someone knocking on the backdoor while I was in the kitchen on the phone.

And even though they understand that I am afraid, they cant understand that is so so much more real then just fear.

Its like I re-experience it all over again.

So I smiled and lied to myself and to them and said it wasn’t a big deal and then I went and took and shower and cried.

This week I went on dates with different boys. Who were amazing and sweet. And I even had a good time.

But the truth is I lied to myself and to others and said I was ok, and I was moving on with my life, when the truth is I am terrified at the idea of being with someone, allowing them in, and being intimate.

And I am so so afraid I will always feel like this.

This week Erica yelled at me for not being completely honest with everyone.

She said I only tell parts of the story that I feel comfortable with, and people close to me never really know exactly what is happening with me.

Which is true. I lie to them and I lie to myself.

The truth is it was actually a really really hard week, and as much as I have tried to seem strong, and normal, and in control, it is a lie.

I should be better. I shouldn’t feel like this. I should move on.

But I cant.

People tell me they worry about me, that they think fear is controlling me, and its true.

But it is so so so real to me.

I never know what will bring the fear back.

Sometimes it doesn’t make sense to anyone but me.

I cant explain why I feel afraid, or sad, or alone.

Sometimes it is a word, or the way someone says it.

Sometimes it is a smell.

Or a knock at the door.

Or a car that looks like his.

It can be anything, and the memories come flooding back.

And they aren’t just memories. I feel everything all over again. I relive that night.

And it doesn’t get any easier.

Maybe if I just had a moment to breathe… to relax… but when someone pounds on my door or tries to get into my house or throws a brick through my window or I see him the fear is just as real, just as present. And that’s my reality.

Maybe someone else could be stronger.

Maybe they could handle all this and be ok. But it too much, too often, for me. It just never stops.

This week Amy asked me if I was suicidal. And I said no. And then I turned on the shower and cried. Bececause I lied.

I am not ok, I am not strong, and I am not taking control.

I am afraid.

I do feel out of control.

And most of all, I feel alone…

I want to be strong for the people who love me, but I cant do this anymore.

I just cant do this anymore…..

And I am sorry….

Oh hell no

I have been trying really hard to get my life back to normal.

To take back control.

(I have a bracelet that says that)

I don’t want to spend the rest of my life afraid.

So last night, after church, I decided to go home and get some of my stuff together even though my roommates were out for the night.

I drove to my house, made sure I had my phone in my hand, and then got out of my car.

As I was walking to my house, my neighbor and good friend Steve pulled up. SO I talked to him for a minute, put my cell phone in my pocket, and then walked to my house and went inside.

At first I panicked when I shut the door. I had to take a minute to convince myself that being in my big empty house alone was ok.

I don’t want to live my life in fear.

I let Beebe out, and then went upstairs.

When I got to the top of the steps I thought that I should call my roommates to tell them I was home alone and to see when they were coming back.

My cell wasn’t in my pocket.

I looked for it for a minute, and decided it must have fallen in the grass when I walked to the door.

I didn’t want to be home alone with no cell phone, so I went to my room to get some clothes to take to my mom and dads house.

As I was getting my stuff together I heard someone banging on the door. My heart leapt to my throat and I had to convince myself not to panic.

I yelled out the window and no one answered. SO I decided to just ignore the knocking. They would go away.

And then I head a huge crash and glass breaking.

I panicked.

I didn’t have a phone to call anyone, and I was sure someone was breaking into my house to kill me.

I felt trapped.

I grabbed the bat Katie gave me and flew down the stairs, fully prepared to beat the shit out of someone.

I stopped on the second floor and looked out the back window, but I didn’t see anyone.

I went down the steps and saw that someone had broken out the kitchen window.

I went to the livingroom and stood in the middle of the room crying and shaking and trying to decide if it was worse to stay in my house with no phone and wait for someone to come kill me (who knew if they were already in the house) or go outside not knowing who was out there (but having a pretty good guess)

I felt so so so trapped.

All of a sudden I looked out the window and saw my neighbor. He had heard the glass breaking and come outside to see what it was.

So I ran outside and asked him if I could use his phone to call the police.

He walked me over to his house and I called the police and waited for them to get there.

When they came I made them search my house for someone who may have come in, and then I filed a report.

Oh hell no.

I am so so angry. I mean more then I am even afraid.

I seriously want to beat someone’s fucking head in with my bat.

Because I am not a victim and I don’t want to be a victim any more.

and people have no right to come to my house and terrorize me.

SO today I have decided to not let him win.

I am going to feel sorry for myself, or walk around afraid.

I am taking back control.

I am not a victim.