tug o' war

Have you ever had one of those weeks? The kind that make you want to call in dead, heat up some cocoa, snuggle up on the couch with a super fluffy blanket and hide from the world. I have. I'm having one right now.

Sometimes I feel like something is working against me and all my goals... The better things seem to get, the harder I get knocked down. The more progress I make (or feel like I make) the more the universe seems compelled to set me back. My emotional and spiritual healing almost seems to parallel my fight for weight-loss. Lose one, gain two, lose a couple more, gain another back,  gaining and losing like I'm playing tug o' war.

The analogy of my life. Sometimes I gain a lot, sometimes only a little, but the back and forth seems to never end. I make progress and fight to keep the ground I've gained and then it rains and I lose it all again...

Anyway, today's post wasn't really going to just be a ranting metaphor. (Even if I do think I came up with a good one for once.)

So, remember when I was talking about my coworker that I now realize I totally should have talked to someone about instead of being the compliant new employee to avoid drawing negative attention to myself? Well, I should have said something. I swear, sometimes I need to really just sit quiet when making important decisions and have a little talk with myself, "Do I feel good about this? Yeah. Ok, does it feel like I'm being led by Spirit to do this? No? Well, then do the opposite!" My best judgment has been proven to be not what I should do quite frequently.

I think my list of continually bad relationships can prove this. I guess it's alright since every time I seem to be bouncing back a little faster and learning a lot more. Maybe one day I'll be healed enough to be ok. Maybe one day I'll be whole enough to not want to run from social interaction. Maybe one day I'll regain my self-esteem genuinely enough to feel like I measure up without faking it.

Wow. I just strayed WAY off subject.

So, misogynist coworker is on my nerves today. Part of my work equipment is tied into his system and it wasn't working. There were techs in changing settings and then my stuff lost connection. To be clear, I don't need to be tied into his system at all. I haven't used that functionality for 2 months, ever since I got locked out and he never fixed my password. Why I need to be tied back into it, I don't really know and I really don't want to be either but can I put on my big girl pants and tell him that? No. I really can't seem to because when I have tried, the condescending "I'm better and smarter than you" attitude really makes me mad. I don't like to be mad at work so I say nothing. I don't want to be the one whining about nothing so I say nothing.

Deep down, I say nothing because I know it doesn't matter what I say to this coworker anyway, what he wants or thinks is the way it is. He is always right and has done all these cool things so he knows more than the people in charge of those things. Basically he reminds me a lot of my husband if you took away all of my husbands charm and sweetness and added a bunch of military-isms.

missing you...

Dear Husband, I know you will probably never see this and I know we can't communicate (heck, we couldn't communicate even before the restraining order...) but I need to let you know I miss you. I still love you even though we were so bad together once things went bad. I hope you can truly be a better, happier person without me as I hope I can learn to be without you.

I know we won't be married much longer and I doubt I will ever see you again. I definitely have not healed from the pain, betrayal and years of controlling and manipulation. Maybe if I had been able to speak my mind instead of trying to keep our own personal Camelot alive, maybe then it wouldn't have gotten so bad. Maybe if I had let you know sooner that I couldn't be responsible for all your needs as well as making you happy before even my own needs were met, maybe then it wouldn't have gotten so bad. Maybe if I was smarter I could have figured out how to get you the help you needed in a way that you could have accepted instead of rejecting it like you did before your demons destroyed us completely.

I pray for your healing every night. I pray for your inner demons to be dealt with so you can begin to truly like yourself. I pray for you to be able to forgive yourself for all those things you couldn't talk to me about. I pray to be able to forgive you for hurting me deeper than I even knew was possible. I pray for you to find that person who is perfect for you in every way and that she can be there for you like I couldn't do.

I pray to be forgiven for hurting you so badly when I was trying to save us both. I pray to be forgiven for making excuses to avoid the issues that began to appear. I pray to forgive myself for allowing myself to be turned into someone I no longer knew. I pray to learn how to love myself and never give up chunks of myself so that someone will love me more. I pray that my fear of abandonment will  no longer allow me to hide who I am in order for you to keep liking me. I pray that I will never again allow myself to want to die for better than half a year just so I can be in a place where I won't hurt so badly.

I pray to be forgiven of all those things I can't even remember that I am sure I did wrong, all those times I did things I didn't realize to make you resent me. I pray for your children that your hatred of me won't affect your relationship with them. I pray they won't take on your bitterness at the world. I pray to be forgiven for all the things I never told you because I let my fear of you outweigh my love. I pray that one day I'll be able to forgive us both for destroying what could have been so beautiful.

I pray that one day you won't hate me so much like you have this last year and that one day I can look at you without fear. I pray that one day you are able to forgive me too.

the touch of shame

I raced home feeling out of sorts. When I arrived there was nowhere to park. My back is hurting, my mind racing, I parked by the curb in the guest parking and raced to my door. "Who do they think they are?", I wonder to myself. "The signs say tenants only" I fumble with the lock, fighting the urge to look behind me, I go inside. I'm sure there's probably no one there.

My cat is yowling for food like he hadn't eaten in a week. I yell at him for being irritating and begging when there's still food in his bowl from this morning. I am on edge. I start to cry in frustration. I don't know what's happening to me. Why am I wanting to yell and swear at anything or anyone in my way? I'm not usually like this. I'm fighting for my survival, problem is, I forgot there's no one left to fight but me. It's all in my head. It needs to get out of my head.

I was at a friend's house earlier with my daughter. My daughter was wanting me to leave, I guess so that she could hang out with her friend without me being there. I had been talking to my friend about me trying to find my voice. My daughter came up behind me, put her hand around my neck and said, "Don't you think you should be going now?" My heart began to pound.

I told her to get her hand off my neck. She seemed confused at why I snapped about it. I didn't know why I was having such a big physical reaction. My friend seemed to remember; he did that to me. The stealthy arrival of a hand around my neck, the voice dripping with condescension, telling me what I should already know.  That sensation on the back of my neck that makes my heart start pounding and prevents me from a breath. I'm not in control. I have no say. I have to do what's expected. I need to or else I might get hurt. 

Just thinking about it makes my muscles tense. I haven't sworn at anyone or about anything in a week, now I've done it ten times or more in the last hour. Parking, the cat, stupid loud neighbors, anything that won't talk back either because of not being able to or from not being here to witness the spewage erupting from me. 

I have no voice, so when I can't take it anymore I erupt like a not-so-dormant volcano sending its ash and smoke everywhere but being incapable of coating the countryside with its magma. The pendulum swings both ways from no voice at all to a blundering misuse of one. When will I find equilibrium?

I still don't understand why a voice and a hand on the back of my neck makes me panic so much. I can't remember why it's so wrong. I can't remember why it pulls my stomach into my throat. I do faintly remember him doing it if I was being wrong and the shame and fear washing over me until I was nothing again... but was that all? I don't know.

I don't want to be here

I don't want to be here right now. That's the thought that keeps running through my head. My legs are shaking, my mind is racing, I'm feeling like I need to shower with a brilla pad. Nothing has happened to me, I am at work and all appears fine, except that inside me it's very far from fine.

I work with a good mix of people, especially for a fairly small team. My workplace is pretty friendly, usually I really like being here. Not so much this morning.

For some reason that I can't figure out coworker A was talking to coworker B about the case where a sports reporter was harassed in the NY Jets locker room. It quickly turned into coworker A talking about how any woman going into the locker room should just assume that would happen and that filing harassment charges is bull****. My ears perked up.

Coworker A turned the conversation to a case in the past where a lady was raped at a military event.  He went on to say that if she'd been there before and knew what it was like she shouldn't have gone if she had a problem with it. He then said with how she was dressed and where she was that it was her fault she was raped. He said rape and harassment and molestation are brought on themselves by women.

Excuse me WHAT???

Coworker B kept trying to say that with the companies policies he shouldn't say things like that at work whether or not he believed them. "You never know who you might offend." This started a huge rant about political correctness and how it's taken way too far and if that's the case and anyone brought it up that maybe it wasn't the place for him. This is the (very) short version of the conversation. I can't bring myself to remember some of it. I don't want to risk triggering something I can't control.

I didn't say anything. I couldn't say anything. I was paralyzed, unable to do anything but listen in my cube and stare blankly at my monitor. My body currently is not my own, I'm not even sure how I'm able to write this. My limbs feel tingly and almost as if I'm pinned down. I feel out of control of my surroundings and like the only way to stay safe is to be silent. I feel paralyzed with anxiety and fear. My body is aching from the past being brought forward to my present.

I know there is no reason to be feeling the physical things I am feeling. I started writing this now, not only to get my feelings out, but to also try to ground myself into my body. This doesn't happen to me much anymore. I am thankful that it is very infrequent since I left my husband. I am glad it's minor and not as extreme as it usually is. My body is having a flashback to that trauma so many years ago. I don't know why that conversation triggered my PTSD. I don't know why but it did.

I do know it's milder than when I was still with my husband and I relived the rape. I do know logically and maybe even emotionally that I will get through this. I do know I have made great progress through the years even though I have had more flashbacks triggered in the last year than I have in the 10 preceding it. 

I am thankful that I didn't black out like the last time I encountered someone saying that rape is brought on by the actions of women. I do know I should talk to my manager about it, maybe I'll soon be able to control my limbs again enough to move from my chair instead of feeling like a zombie with its mouth stitched shut.   

instances of pain

So, this morning I was reading a new blog I found. It was really interesting because the person was contemplating a co-workers behaviors and a possible pill issue. As I was thinking that she was probably on the right track I found myself thinking about my own issues with pain pills.

My issue is that I frequently get told by my doctors that I need to take my medication as prescribed because I tend to take it less-frequently than I am supposed to. I don't want to end up addicted to my pain pills or muscle relaxers. Addiction scares me and I don't want to fight that over something I need to be able to function in day-to-day life. As I was thinking about this I realized that addiction isn't my only fear.


Sure, I really like that even if the pain pills don't take the pain away they make it so I don't really care so much. I like the floaty numbness my head gets so I don't think so much about why it hurts so bad. I just don't care. If I don't care I can forget about it and function a little bit more normally. I can fake a smile and tell you I'm fine a little bit more easily when you ask how I am. My eyes may be dead and my vision might be dimmed but at least I can see. 


I'm supposed to take my pain meds and muscle relaxers much more frequently than I do so that I don't get so bad that they don't do any good. I don't. I can't bring myself to take them like that because I'm afraid I won't have any when I need them most. I know I sound like an addict in that sentence but before you jump to conclusions let me tell you a story...

I have been dealing with chronic pain for a while now. Let's travel back a while to when things were better with my husband and I, back a few years to the last time I was on pain meds for a medical procedure I had to have done. My husband was complaining of thinking too much and not being able to get his mind to quit. He gave some other excuses but I honestly don't remember what they were. He wanted half of one of my vicodins. After some justification I gave in and said "I guess so". I thought I made it clear that it was an exception only.


A little while later I found him in the bathroom, rather than taking it as a pill he was snorting it "so it would hit him faster". That should have been my first clue. Normal people don't snort pain pills. As time went on I discovered my medications more and more frequently seemed to not last as long as they should. I thought my memory must be failing me and I just didn't remember taking them. 

Sometimes I would lay on the couch crying in pain completely unable to even find my medication only to have him find it sometime later. Again, frequently with many less pills in the bottle than there should have been. Sometimes I would find the bottle and it would be empty. When I asked about it only occasionally would he admit to have taken one or "some" but would also be sure to let me know I just wasn't remembering right about how many I had. 

After I got a new pain management doctor I had to take my meds in for counting at every appointment. I was frequently unable to find them to take to my appointments but when I could the count was never lower than it should be, odd since I was only taking them a couple times a week instead of a couple a day. The count should have been much higher. I had quit taking them as prescribed because I knew I couldn't get my refill early even if someone took them again. I quit taking them as prescribed because I had to make sure they would still last until I could refill again. I had to make sure I still had some if I was in too much pain.

I questioned the kids, I doubted their friends. He accused the kids' friends. After all, half the time they went missing completely or in part was when the kids had friends over. Amazingly though, even though he decided is was so and so who took the bottle, days later they would somehow show back up with one or two left. When I started keeping them all in a locked box they quit disappearing; when he found out the lock was broken it started happening bit by bit again.


Since I moved out none of my pills have disappeared. I know of a handful of times that he snorted them for sure. There were many many more times when things just didn't add up with my meds.


I wonder if part of why he started hating and resenting me was because I didn't want him taking my pills.

I wonder if part of his rage when I told him he was acting like an addict was because he was doing more than "just" weed and alcohol all night after work.

I wonder if part of his rage at me asking him if he thought he needed to go to a meeting was because he wondered it too...

re-learning to see beauty

I had an odd dream last night. Most of it took place in what seemed really similar to an old abandoned desert town. My family had a large building that was a cross between an old barn and a warehouse constructed of wood. Inside was a wide winding staircase that got narrower as it went up, It was in the center of the single room.  We were all dressed in long dresses, tattered and dusty from years of living in the desert.

My mother was preparing a stew in a large cauldron over a roaring fire; people from the community were coming for some kind of event. I asked what was going on. My husband had killed himself. I remember being very confused. I was somewhat relieved because I knew I'd never have to deal with the harassment and threats again. On the other hand I was completely devastated, the love of my life was dead by his own hand; there was no more hope that he might pull himself out of it. 

I fell to the ground and sobbed, not caring about all the people staring and whispering. My mother tried to console me reminding me of how much I had changed when I was with him, how much I had become a shell of myself. She reminded me of the screaming and fighting until I just wanted to curl into a ball and disappear forever. She reminded me how I didn't exist when he was around except to punctuate a story or two, how he belittled me to my friends.

I couldn't take it any more, it hurt to much. I raced out of the house, jumped in my car and drove away. I looked and dressed like I do now. Everything became modern the moment I left the house. The further away I got the more the world became colorful. I stopped by the side of the road, took my shoes off and walked in the moss. It felt cool beneath my feet. There were magnificent trees and a creek. I knew I needed to re-find beauty in my life instead of darkness and despair. I awoke.

I don't know what, exactly, it was trying to tell me about my beloved. I know it will possibly take a lifetime to heal the hurt of our relationship and not being able to fix it. Maybe it was telling me I need to come to a peace about it and find closure as you have to when you lose a dear loved one. I do know it was telling me I need to try to paint again. I need to start photography again. I need to walk in the woods and let the awe of the world heal my soul. I need to re-find the joy within and this time, to protect it and nurture it and never let anyone steal it away again.

transition done. mostly.

Well, it looks like the blog transitioned to its new home successfully. I have noticed, however, that none of the comments transitioned. I am trying to decide how I want to take care of that but haven't decided yet. Thankfully I do have some backed up. 

I really must stress how much your comments mean to me.

blog transition

Well, It looks like I'm going to be transitioning my blog to a new service. This should be a good thing however I'm not sure what it will do to current posts, comments and tags. I hope it will migrate correctly. If you experience any wierdness, let me know.

me [at] raikay [dot] com

the calm in the storm

It's been a while since I checked in. I guess it's because its been pretty quiet for once. I went and stayed out-of-town with family over the holiday and it was just what I needed. It was so quiet and event-less. It didn't start that way though...

Thursday wasn't bad, I had a lot to do and kept busy. It finally felt like I had reached some amount of normalcy. I finally felt like I could almost be myself in the world without either huge effort or hiding behind a mask. I should know by now that just when I think I am doing ok emotionally or am even making an improvement, something happens to derail me. If I was smart, I'd find some way of using it to measure how far (or not) I've come since the last time...

That evening I did have a huge meltdown though. The phone rang. That's all it took, me answering the phone. I'm in this awkward place right now of not knowing whether I'd rather know more things he did and how early in our relationship he did them or whether I'd rather be blissfully ignorant. I honestly don't know. All I know is the more days go by, the more I am finding out things that risked this relationship from the start. I keep asking myself how it is I didn't see, how I didn't know. How did I miss that? How did I miss seeing him manipulating and playing games from the start?

The answer is easy; I didn't look.

Thursday and Friday nights I had a bunch of dreams in short rapid-fire. I don't remember anything about them except that I kept waking up in-between being all stressed out. I remember they were all what seemed to be 20 minutes or less with very vivid locations and color, like old-time carnivals and things. Every time one ended I awoke feeling more confused than the time before. I think I may be glad I didn't remember them. I desperately needed the next couple days to do nothing. I did nothing and for once, no one made me feel guilty about it. Not one time was I guilt-ed or questioned. Not one time was I made to feel bad that I needed rest. I had so much rest I didn't even look at the computer. I needed it.

"the erosion of spirit"

This is a story in a packet I received from a local support place. I don't know how well it speaks to anyone else, but the first time I read it, it spoke so much to me that I broke down in tears and cried. I knew what she was feeling more and more and more through my marriage...

"I knew my marriage wasn't great - but I couldn't seem to figure out how to describe it to a counselor. I felt embarrassed to say things like, "He has to control the thermostat. He nags at me. Everything about me is wrong. He teases me in a way that I feel put down." I couldn't seem to feel like anything but a fool if I described these things to a counselor. I told myself that it was "affectionate teasing" and "no big deal". He'd tell me I'd just done such and such a foolish thing. He didn't seem mad. Or he'd "tease" me that I couldn't get to the point in telling something. Or "tease" me about the way I walked. Or the way I drove. Or how I'd go around with one eye open, when first waking up. Yes, it all seemed harmless. He didn't seem to be mad at me. In fact he seemed to smile at me, as if my stupid little ways were cute. But I was beginning to feel stupid. He'd laugh to others about the way I answered the phone, or he'd tell them how I spent so much time combing my hair. Or how he was always ready first. I'd laugh. Try to be a good sport. Isn't this just the way people like to tease one another? But I never teased him. It would seem too cruel. Isn't that a contradiction? I couldn't figure it out. There was always something else wrong with me. The way I talked, the way I gestured, the way I laughed, or how I dropped something or forgot where I placed something. I kept telling myself, as he did, it was "affectionate teasing". It went on and on. I told myself it was harmless, but it hurt. Was I really annoying him? One day he teased me about the way I packed my suitcase, I remember beginning to feel really embarrassed. There were so many things I did "wrong". I learned much later that what was actually happening to me was that I was continually being kept "off-balance" and made to feel "wrong". How cruel. Chip. Chip. Chip. My self-esteem was being chipped away. Without realizing it I was monitoring his expressions. A look of irritation - I was wrong again! But how? I had no idea. But, something I was doing was embarrassing or irritating him. As unlovable as I was now feeling, wasn't I lucky this wonderful man chose me?

How subtly he stole my soul."

It's a picture of verbal and emotional abuse. It was tremendously depressing to see how much of what I felt was described in that story.

Had he actually hit or beat me it would have hurt less.

why do I second-guess when I know it was toxic?

Yesterday the summons and divorce petition were delivered to the barrister for delivery. It was such a relief at the time, I was happy that they were going to try to get it done as soon as possible. As the day went on however I started feeling kind of down. I started questioning myself, doubting my actions.

Maybe he was right, maybe he really was just around the corner from being so burnt out and unable to deal with anything. Maybe he really was almost through being so angry and resentful all the time. Maybe it really would be better "as soon as this is over" even though every other time he said that it ended up getting worse. Maybe I was just over-reacting like he always said I did. Maybe I deserved the yelling and belittling. Maybe I really shouldn't have gotten so upset about him getting drunk and stoned to be able to deal with everything. Maybe I should have agreed to letting him sleep around as much as he wanted since he "just needs to f*ck" as he told me. Maybe I really was the bad partner.

I think maybe it was the dream and my fears that I lost the love of my life. After all, no one's perfect. I'm alone now and fear I will be the rest of my life. Other than my daughter there's no one in my life everyday that affirms me, reassures me, loves me. It's weird, even though he invalidated all my ideas, my dreams, my ideals, even though he made me feel like nothing more than a barely tolerated roommate expected to put out whenever he wanted, I still miss him. I loved him like I never loved anyone else. I wish he was who he used to be during the times that he treated me like he loved me. I miss looking in his eyes and seeing love instead of hate. I miss the good times. When they were good, there was nothing better. Conversely though, when they were bad...

Somehow as much as I doubted his love at the end and felt like he even hated and resented me, I still feel less loved without his attention.

Maybe I just don't want to have 2 failed marriages. Especially since both of them resulted in me being disassembled, torn down and rebuilt into a shell of what I was previously. They resulted in my very soul being sucked out until I no longer was myself. They resulted in me no longer being human. It makes me feel like a failure and affirms my life-long fear that I'm not good enough.

At least this time I still have a few friends to help me see the truth and good that still exists in me. Hopefully this time I can re-find myself and re-build myself into a stronger version of me that can choose better people and not be so in need of outside validation. I want so badly to learn how to make good choices and not compromise my beliefs and values for the sake of love.

last night I had a dream...

dream 8/31/10

For some reason my husband and I had started passing notes through other people so we could communicate without breaking the restraining order. (I know that would, in fact, break it but this was a dream...) I had the impression that it was at least 6 months down the road but not yet a year. He wanted to get together and talk.

I was skeptical and knew if I agreed to see him that my restraining order would be void. On the other hand, with the way he was communicating it seemed like maybe he had gotten some help. I decided to go anyway.

We met at what looked from the inside like a nicely kept turn of the century barn. I don't remember seeing the outside of it. Inside there were 6 or 7 people sitting in a semi circular fashion; it reminded me of an intervention. There were people I didn't know from his work, people I knew from online but that had never seen us together, his current girlfriend (whose face I couldn't see) and a girl who used to be my friend until she started doing things that were dangerous and I didn't approve of. My husband looked much more well than the last time I saw him although his eyes were dark and hollow.

He started talking, I don't remember most of it until the end, when my friend I haven't talked to in almost 10 years spoke up. She was saying that I was selfish and only cared about what I wanted. In years past I had dated her ex, she tried to say I could only be friends with one of them and I said that meant she wasn't a real friend. Turned out to be a bad decision on my part.

Anyway I brought up the emotional abuse and he blamed it on me. He said that for the last 3 years I had been demeaning him in front of friends and gossiping about him. He said I had been guilt-tripping him if he wanted to do anything and that I manipulated him with my pain. He said he was forced to do it by my treatment of him. I felt my heart sink and I was filled with self-doubt over whether the ruin of our relationship that had once been beautiful was actually all my fault. That's when I woke up.

I don't know what truth there is in the dream. I think there probably is a bit. I also think it was triggered by filing my divorce papers yesterday. When his ex left and took him to court for separation he said the same things about her. I am worried he'll lie about me to my friends and try to turn them against me; I know he's already done it with a couple of them.