One more post about feet

Three posts in one day!

So one of my overwhelming thoughts during yesterday's session was -

How did she manage to paint her toenails with her dominant arm/hand in a cast?

Little Bee

So this book is in the phase of being passed around for various book groups. I had read about it a few months ago, but just started it yesterday. There are some good quotes for survivors - here's one -

"I ask you right here please to agree with me that a scar is never ugly. That is what the scar makers want us to think. But you and I, we must make an agreement to defy them. We must see all scars as beauty. Okay? This will be our secret. Because take it from me, a scar does not form on the dying. A scar means, I survived."

There are a few I've come across like that. Author is Chris Cleave. There are some scenes which will be triggering for some. Not me - I can read the bad stuff without feeling much. Perhaps that is something to work on in therapy - to regain the ability to cry at the sad things and be repulsed by the awful.

An Egg

If I could draw - I would draw an egg with a splinter size crack that proceeds to a mesh of cracks with eventual shattering of the shell. That's what I thought about after therapy yesterday. The goal of my therapist (at least in my mind - she would say she has no goal - it's all about what I want) is to effect the first crack. But we all know what happens after you break an egg - you end up with a gooey mess.

And I've developed this thick shell for a reason - I'm trying to decide if there is a good reason to break it.

And whether I should call my T to let her know how I'm feeling - although I suspect she has a pretty good idea.

Worst job

I've been out of the blogosphere over the weekend due to out of town guests - missed a few of the prompts - now I get to pick.

My worst job was the summer between first and second year of med school. I worked as a phlebotomist at a local plasma donation center - very depressing place - people came and gave blood for a paltry amount of money. There were about 10-15 of us from my class working there during the summer. Unfortunately, several of my classmates exuded superiority from every pore. This cast a bad light on all of us - you know the privileged and educated (yeah right - educated maybe, but certainly not privileged). I still remember the feeling I had when I couldn't "get" a hard stick one day and one of the full time workers had to help me. She was so full of scorn and derision that I, who was going to be a doctor, couldn't do this.

It was the first (and perhaps only) time I felt hated for what I was rather than who I am.

Greatest Fear

I meant to post this yesterday.....

This one was an easy one. My greatest fear is that something terrible will happen to my children. By terrible, I don't mean getting cancer or having an accident (both terrible things). I mean the really horrible things - abducted, raped, murdered.

Makes me feel ill just to write it.

My superpower

I can't say that I have a superpower. I mean, who does besides the superheroes? :)

I suppose I could answer this in the context of past abuse - my superpower was to survive and go on to lead a productive life.

Or I could answer it in the context of things I am good at -

1) I have a great memory - particularly for names - people, books, authors

2) I'm a good listener although my T would say in part that is a learned mechanism to avoid sharing my own story

3) I am cool under pressure - particularly at work

4) I'm a fast reader

5) I can keep secrets (I suppose this could fall in the above category - learned from my abuse)

Five bands/concerts

Now - this is a fun one that doesn't stir up bad things - always nice.

Five best concerts I've been to - I haven't been to that many concerts, but I've been to some great ones. I'm not including symphonies/opera/classical/musicals in this list -

1) Rolling Stones - Steel Wheels tour - we had GREAT seats - on the floor about 12 rows back - my ears were ringing for days!

2) Bruce Springsteen - another great one - forget which album he was promoting

3) Grateful Dead - yes in the times of Garcia - it was an outdoor venue - it was hot as hell and like a dustbowl, but who cared? Warm up was Bruce Hornsby - also great.

4) Paul Simon - small venue at the local university - I think it was Graceland album - again we had great seats.

5) Phil Collins - huge arena - in Ohio State stadium - packed to the gills - post Genesis days but a lot of energy flowing

6) Adding a sixth - Barenaked Ladies - venue was not great - too crowded - too hot (perhaps it was the beginning of menopause for me :) It was during the promotion of Barenaked for the Holidays. Really entertaining.

More recently been to Avril Lavigne with dear daughter (in the same venue as Springsteen 15 years previously). It was actually pretty good.

My First Kiss - today's prompt

WTF - do they write these with abuse survivors in mind?

I can't begin to remember my first kiss -

16 year old self

Prompt today is to list three things you would tell your 16 year old self. I was in my senior year of high school at the time.

First one is easy - tell someone now, get into therapy, don't carry the baggage for so many years. I can only imagine it is harder now than it might have been at 16.

Second and Third - see above. Actually I don't have many regrets about the way my life has progressed. Except for my silence for so long.

1000 Cranes

Japanese lore suggests that if you fold 1,000 paper cranes, your wish will come true. What would your wish be, and what would you be willing to do 1,000 times to get it?

Today's inspiration. Funny this was done at our school this year for our librarian. Her 2 year granddaughter was diagnosed with a brain tumor and people folded 1000 cranes and hung them in the library.

So the question is do I wish for something past, present or future? Reminds me of the Christmas Carol.

If in the past - definitely would wish that the abuse had not occured. That the discovery of sex came from natural exploration and curiosity and not forced upon me at a young age. That trust and security were instilled.

If in the future - wish that my kids are happy in whatever they choose to do.

The present - well I'm living it moment to moment - perhaps I would wish that I could work part time.

What would I do to get these wishes? Folding 1000 cranes would be nice. :)

Nablopomo - a million dollars

What would I do with a million dollars if I couldn't keep it for myself or help those I know?

Not sure I can top Kerro's suggestion of taking a portion of it in $100 bills and throwing them off the top of a tall building.

Kids - I would want to help kids in some way. Because most kids are not born evil. Because many kids will prosper if given the resources. S0 -

Programs that help kids learn to read

Programs that feed kids

Programs that provide mentoring for kids

Resources to buy books - I escaped my childhood by reading

Programs to pay for therapy for kids who need it

You get the picture.

Nablopomo - apology?

Today's prompt is whether I owe anyone an apology, and if so, why?

I guess I could think of lots of reasons to apologize to people.

Therapist - apologize for asking questions that lead to disclosures

Husband - apologize for not telling him my secret years ago

Inner child - apologize for not being able to access you to feel your pain

I'm sure I could go on, but this is enough for now.

Nablopomo June 5/6 Therapy

So there was no prompt yesterday on the site and none so far today. I checked as late as 10 p.m. So I missed yesterday -

One thing I did this week was write a long entry in my private journal about things to talk about in therapy. I'm one of those who chit chat for awhile and avoid talking about some things. And then the time runs out when we are in the midst of it.

I've had a heart to heart with T and at this point we've reached an understanding. Something came up this week which made me realize that I still don't completely trust her (or anyone). Although she is worthy of my trust - I intellectually know that. I called and left her a voice mail about the issue (something I've done only 2-3 times in over two years). I told her that she didn't have to call me back, we could talk about it at our session next week. But she called me back because "she didn't want me to ruminate about it over the weekend". And she said she was glad I called.

That got me thinking that she is definitely worthy of my trust.

Nablopomo - Father

Today's prompt - "What is the first thing you think of when you think of your father?"

Oh - funny question with more disclosure. My first thought was "dead" but in reality it should be "not known to me".

Another opportunity for disclosure - I never knew my father. My mother had an affair with her (married) landlord and got pregnant (with me). His wife was pregnant at the same time and also had a girl (how sweet). I know his name - I asked my mother once when I was doing genetics in med school. He (if he is still alive) and presumably his family live in town. I have from time to time thought about looking into it, but have decided it's not worth it.

All three of my mother's children have different fathers. The last was my abuser.

Nablopomo - freedom

Today's topic is defining freedom - interesting because the last line of yesterday's post was about the caged bird singing of freedom.

In the current topic of this blog, freedom for me is the ability to tell others, to share with others my story. Most of that has been anonymous, but still a tremendous help.

In a general sense, freedom for me is the ability to think what I want, say what I want, live my live the way I want without condemnation or judgement from others.

And of course, there is the hope for freedom from the aftereffects of childhood sexual abuse. Still working on that one.

Nablopomo - favorite poem

Favorite poem -

I used to love poetry - I remember reams of paper where I had copied poems. I remember reading this book in 9th grade and it resonated with me. This reminds me that I should read more poetry.

I know why the caged bird sings by Maya Angelou

A free bird leaps on the back
Of the wind and floats downstream
Till the current ends and dips his wing
In the orange suns rays
And dares to claim the sky.

But a BIRD that stalks down his narrow cage
Can seldom see through his bars of rage
His wings are clipped and his feet are tied
So he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
Of things unknown but longed for still
And his tune is heard on the distant hill for
The caged bird sings of freedom.

The free bird thinks of another breeze
And the trade winds soft through
The sighing trees
And the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright
Lawn and he names the sky his own.

But a caged BIRD stands on the grave of dreams
His shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
His wings are clipped and his feet are tied
So he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings with
A fearful trill of things unknown
But longed for still and his
Tune is heard on the distant hill
For the caged bird sings of freedom.

E

Nablopomo - childhood dreams

Thanks to Kerro - I found this site. I will give it a try since I post so infrequently. I've been offline for awhile - no posts, email or reading of blogs. Nothing bad - just life and doing some thinking on my own. :)

When you were little, what did you want to be when you grew up?

Safe

Normal

And maybe beautiful.