Do Something for Yourself. Something You Love.

I've always been the one to capitulate to the needs of others, reinvent myself to suit their needs, to blend in, be silent to keep the peace. This is a problem for me because I don't consistently get my needs met.

The Nice Lady has recommended that when Twig gets incorrigible, mean or nasty, that I should leave and do something for myself. Something nice like buying flowers for myself (and not sale flowers).

It's been super hard to decide what to do, what I enjoy, what I like, and how to take care of myself. I have given up activities I enjoyed once upon a time, dropped ones I was trying to enjoy, and kept myself from exploring new ones. For financial reasons, mostly. But also because of space and time and family and work.

Excuses.

Since my temper tantrum last week where I sat in my fury and did nothing to make it easier for Wood or Twig to be near me - which I NEVER do (see first sentence above), I have felt closer to myself. 

Baseline self care...it's almost second nature for me these days to continue to eat at regular intervals, own my anger and not allow anyone to talk me out of my feelings, and ask for help from a friend. These are not things that have come easily to me - ever - they have been hard earned even after YEARS of soul-searching and gut wrenching work.

Wood told me Thursday evening that the Dr. knew immediately that I was angry with him and worried aloud that I wouldn't want to go back (I had left to pee and they talked ever so briefly).  In this session, I was forced to SEE MYSELF and despite "what matters" being the (not so great) delivery mechanism, it pushed me in a way I needed to be pushed.

I'm proud that I didn't give up my feelings. That I continued to feed and hydrate myself. That I voiced my feelings and didn't let other people off the hook. That I called a friend and over hot cocoa, had my feelings validated. Moved past being angry. And began listing activities and interests that I enjoy or want to enjoy - ways to take care of myself and nourish my soul.

Walking
Listening to stories - Podcasts - Snap Judgement, Strangers, 99% Invisible
(!) Photography - graffiti (!)
Crafting - taking art classes
Writing

And maybe most important, having hot cocoa with friends.

A N G R Y

The child psychologist said today that I need to:

-Let it go
-Decide what's important
-Accept that "this" is what kids do
-Have no emotions about it, whatever the fuck "it" is that's making me upset
-To not be angry

Guess what?

I am I N F U R I A T E D!

As in I want to demolish things, throw Shit, drive the car into people or a building. I want other people and things to feel my fury. F U R Y!

The fact that he suggested that what I want isn't important is the piece that has got me.

Is it not important that my kid (at age 10):

-flush the toilet after taking a dump?
-do homework?
-help around the house by putting HIS shoes, backpack, lunch, and other sundry items WHERE THEY BELONG?

What about:

-turning off the lights?
-closing the door when he is the last person in the house?
-brushing his teeth?
-wearing clean clothes?
-washing his hands after using the bathroom?

"Is it important?"

Fuck you.

It makes a difference to ME when he refuses to help with his stuff. I'm not a fucking servant. I DO NOT live to take care of his stuff because, well, he *doesn't feel like it* right now. So why expect him to follow through? Is it important? Not to him. So, you don't have to do anything if it's not important to you. Mom is the giving tree. The Boy just takes and takes. Great lesson.

This makes me want to move out and live alone.

Ramble, ramble. Sorry. Not sorry. My space.

Yes means Yes

I've kept a secret for 20 years. As in, haven't told anyone. Ever. Until today.

A little bit of shame was released in telling my best friend, Wood, that when I was a young undergrad, doing political work, I traveled across the state as a representative for my school, and what happened to me one weekend away.

The people I "worked" with had connections to other people that had come before us. Whenever there were opportunities to do so, the generations were connected.

I was "connected " to a guy who had a "big man on campus" type of reputation. One of those people that others either really liked or really didn't like. I didn't have any information at the time, except that my people really liked him.

For this particular weekend trip, my people asked if he could share my hotel room. I agreed. I'm supportive like that.

When he was in my hotel room, in my bed, and it was time to sleep, he didn't want to sleep. I didn't say "Yes", I didn't say "No".

He raped me.

I took the morning after pill as soon as I could once I got back to campus.  And told no one. It wasn't violent, it was a violation. One that I should have had the voice to say no to. I was ashamed to have agreed to let him stay in my room. It could have been prevented. By me.

So. There it is.