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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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. :)
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.
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.
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?