Just A Quickie

So I don't have much time but just wanted to write a quick post about some things that have been tickling my mind lately. Well, basically, I tend to find myself funny and sometimes I even laugh out loud (I refuse to use the internet/IM/text lingo, LOL) at my own thoughts. Anyway, so I have this workbook on codependence called, Breaking Free: A Recovery Workbook for Facing Codependence. There are three sections or parts to the workbook, the first where you write down all the abuse you can remember that you received from your childhood and the messages it gave you, the second part is basically the 12 steps of CODA (Codependents' Anonymous) and the third is...well, I'm not there yet but it's titled, "Beyond Denial About Recovery." (Each part is called, "Beyond Denial...")

Well, I've been working through the book as diligently as possible but lately I've slowed down a bit. I'm on Step 3 and I keep peaking at Step 4 and I realize that I think part of the problem is that these steps have to do with you looking at your current behaviors (and thoughts) that are unhealthy and trying to either "hand them over to your higher power" or make a "fearless inventory" of them. Well, here's my issue: I'm trying my damn hardest not to do or think unhealthy things! So I'm coming up fairly empty...I'm having a really hard time finding my blunders right now because my recovery is starting to really work and I'm getting healthier! I realize that I'm still unhealthy at times, but they're not the same unhealthy things that the workbook wants me to contemplate and write down so I find myself feeling like I'm stuck, or at least slowed down quite a bit. I cannot just write down past behaviors for Step 3 cause it's supposed to be in real-time - in fact, there are dates! You're supposed to "hand it over to your Higher Power", then reflect on how it felt after you handed it over and then also what happened as a result (such as how the situation changed). I feel like I need to fill out Step 3 before I move on to Step 4, etc., and thus, since I'm at a loss for completing Step 3, I feel stuck, like I'm not gonna be able to move on.

Here's the part that made me laugh: I was thinking,  maybe I should just purposefully do some unhealthy shit so I can write it in my workbook and move on!!! HAHAHA!! Right?! That totally defeats the purpose!

So instead of purposefully being unhealthy so that I can fill out my workbook and move on in my recovery, I've decided that I might need to take a little detour from the workbook and improvise - meaning that I could write down the other ways that I find myself being unhealthy even if they don't quite fit what the workbook is asking.

Well, that's that. Maybe it's not as funny to others but it made me laugh. I love thinking of horribly wrong things then coming back to reality, knowing those things are ridiculous and laughing about them! I'm not truly an asshole - I just like to fantasize about being one sometimes.

I Ask For What I Lack

It's been a rough week. My back hurts and it's painful to take deep breaths. Therefore, I'm trying not to take deep breaths, but sometimes, when my feelings edge towards overwhelming I need to take a deep breath to calm down. It's one of those things - where the emotional plays out into the physical - they call it "psychosomatic" - but it's not exactly that the emotional caused the physical. My back hurts because I started playing rugby again last week. I made a tackle in that first practice that apparently re-aligned my spine in such a way that the ribs on my left side are poking into my lungs a little bit. Lovely, right? So yeah, I've been seeing my chiropractor - have another appointment tonight (that makes 3 in the past week) - and I'm not doing any contact play until I'm back to "normal". I am also incorporating yoga and pilates to help so that I can prevent this for the future. I know it can be done - there are ruggers who play well into their forties! I'm only 34! I should be able to play for another decade, at least!

The other part of the pain is not so easy to treat. I'm hurting inside, although I'm not feeling in crisis about it. I'm just trying to figure out how to endure the hurt, as it is perfectly understandable to hurt when someone tells you they don't want you in their life at all - especially when it's someone you wanted in your life. However, there's nothing I can do about it and I have to admit that it took some courage on her part to tell me that because she's not a mean person. I know she doesn't want to hurt me. I wonder if she feels badly that she hurt me already and maybe that's part of why she doesn't want me in her life. But it doesn't matter what the reason is. I don't want to wish bad things on her - and I don't - but it is hard to sit in the hurt without feeling all sorts of feelings - sadness, anger, pain, confusion, disbelief, frustration, sadness, anger, pain. Well, I know it's ok to feel those things - I guess I don't need permission - I just don't want to feel them. The problem is that the feelings cause me to want to do something about them.

There's not a lot I can do, but I find myself circling near the drain of desperation. Like, begging her to reconsider? Or telling her how much she's hurting me? Or telling her how she's doing this or that and how it sucks yadda yadda...whatever - it's all shit, right? None of it will change her mind. None of it will change me (in fact, it will merely keep me stuck). And...well, and it may not even be for real, you know? Like...1) I don't want to be friends with someone that I have to begto reconsider being my friend! How humiliating is that?! 2) I'm hurting but...she's not trying to hurt me (I don't think...she really isn't evil or anything...in fact, I think she's just taking care of herself, which is healthy) 3) I don't really know what's going on for her at all. She said some things but I know there's more to it cause there has to be - and it's not my place to know what the other factors are. She may not even know. I just get the end result, the end decision. And I guess I am grateful that she's trying to own it, you know? Like I'm trying to own my shit, too. I just wish it were a different outcome.

This is where I turn to Step 3 in my recovery. Luckily, I'm on step 3: "[We] made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood God". Well, I substitute "higher power" even though that term is a little awkward for me seeing as I don't really believe in a separate, higher or better being than myself or anyone else, for that matter. I do intend to describe what I do believe, actually, because it has come to light for me in the past few months. Why not share it, right? Well, only because I have always been put-off by others trying to tell me what to believe in and I would never want to come across like that to others! But...this is my blog! You never have to read it or agree with it - God knows even I don't always agree with myself at another point in time!

Going back to step 3, though... I've decided to hand this over to my "higher power"' to deal with. Of course, that's not the easiest thing for me - I'm certainly resistent. I need to let it go, you know? But I'm struggling, as you can see. I want to figure it out - why and what I did or didn't do, what's going on, etc etc - but that won't change it. And also, I need to remember I cannot change anyone else - just me. And even changing me isn't something I can do entirely on my own - yes, I need help. I've started to accumulate help - a therapist, 12-step meetings, 12-steps/workbook, expanding my world (playing rugby again, hopefully playing music again although that's coming along more slowly). So..the last part, and the most important, I suspect, is to recruit the help of faith in the unknown/higher power. Well, faith that there's reason to this madness and that the reason will be shown to me with time and that...I don't need to figure it out. If something else is to happen, such as this girl changes her mind and wants to be my friend, afterall, or a different girl comes into my life and wants to be my friend - whatever the situation that may or may not happen, I don't need to make it happen. If it's going to happen, if the universe wants it to happen, I'm asking that the universe make it happen so that I can let it go and stop trying to make it happen.

I turn this over to my "higher power", to the unknown. I need help and I know you want to help me because you love me - my sister is there and she loves me, my friend, Abby, is there, too, and she loves me. Please help me...I'm handing it over to you now. (trying....you can go ahead and peal my clenched fists from around it and take it away from me...handing it to you like this is the best I can do right now.)

My Talent

So I got dumped again - by the same person! I mean, this time she dumped me as a friend - saying she doesn't have the time or energy or whatever to make a new friend (I was just offering to be email pen pals...even that's too much, I guess).

I just find it funny. [Well, that's not all I feel about it...] I'm pretty damn talented, aren't I? I can manage to get myself dumped over and over again by the same person. Yeah, she's not the first to dump me multiple times. I'm that awesome.

[Yes, this is where my earlier post came from..]

 

So I feel pretty crappy about myself right now. I'm working on not letting myself fall into a pit of self-worthlessness...but dang, that's pretty harsh, don't you think? Doesn't even want to be my email pal...and get this: She still had the balls to say she thinks I'm a "great person", yadda yadda yadda... I don't believe her! I'm so tired of her dishing me this crap - like with one hand she's carressing me and the other she's slapping me - it doesn't compute! I'm going to explode!

Which shows me that I guess I don't want to be her friend, either. It's hard to accept because on so many levels she seemed like an awesome woman - strong, sexy, smart, funny, fun, sweet - but then she just kept giving me line after line, telling me one thing after the other and doing the opposite. I can't compute that - for real. How can you live with the disconnect? Maybe she can't. Maybe that's why she doesn't want me in her life.

I've been telling myself all day to "focus on myself". Focus on  me, not her - not the other. But here I am...how am I supposed to digest the double-dump without feeling like it's a judgment on my worth? I know...I'm supposed to know/feel worthwhile no matter what other people think of me. But jeesh, that's pretty lonely. I don't want to be the only one. (ok, I guess I'm not the only one. Just feeling the blow.)

I guess the hardest part is that this is recurrent in my life and thus, I feel like all arrows point to me - like hey J you're fucked up. Hey J something's so wrong with you, it's subconscious and thus the behaviors are so engrained in you that it's almost impossible to change them... Yeah, I'd like to QUIT. But there's no other path - it's not like I can quit my recovery and just have a normal life. My life is broken - I have to go through the recovery or what else? Wait for death, I guess.

Well, this is my talent - getting dumped for infinitum. Maybe tomorrow I'll get back on my horse. Today, I guess I'll just sit here, looking at myself, like an ass, kicked and broken on the ground.

Don't Forget To Punch Me On Your Way Out

Today I feel like a human punching bag.
Don't worry, I have no internal organs, so it won't cause any more damage. (just kidding - I know you don't care.)
My heart was torn out long ago.
All that's left in my head is my brainstem, which is all I need to keep getting back up again.
Ready for another sucker-punch!

(Seriously, those hotties in the pic could give me sucker punches any day!! Also...that was my birthday!!)

The Great Equalizer

My old therapist in Pittsburgh said that domestic abuse is "the great equalizer". Or maybe she was referring to getting arrested? Shit, I can't remember - it was in reference to me getting arrested in a domestic violence incident.

Well, that's a bombshell!

Yeah, so talk about something to feel ashamed of! I often forget this happened to me 'cause I really have been trying to repress it for almost a decade now. However, I feel ready to stop feeling ashamed. I will say, though, it's nothing like you might imagine - being in a domestic violence/abuse dispute and getting arrested, then actually being in the holding cell, getting arraigned and finally, finally, getting that phone call they always talk about. It also sucks beyond belief and is not only humiliating and dehumanizing, but you are treated like you are guilty and bad from the beginning. And I never even made it up to the "general population" - something they said would be even worse and they'd have to do strip searches and shampoo our hair for lice and what not. All I knew was that I had to get the hell out of there as soon as possible and that there's no way in hell I'm ever putting myself in a situation again where I could get arrested if I have any ability to control that.

Let's see...where do I even begin? I know you're loving this (whoever you are) - this is some juicy shit! And you realize I am super smart, have had a privileged life, I'm white, a lesbian and I have a doctorate in molecular biology and work at a growing global bio-pharmaceutical company. So I hope this breaks some pre-conceived notions that you may have had regarding people who get arrested. Like I said, my therapist called it "the great equalizer."

I had to write down the details of the entire event as I recalled them in the "intimate partner abuse" class I had to take as part of the deal not to have the arrest on my record (and not to have to spend more time in jail). Well, there was another person involved...and yes, we were both arrested and we both had to take that class - but not together, no worries! They have two classes just for that scenario! Anyway, I think I know where that paper is with that description. I think I'll look over it and see how my recollection has changed. But right now I'm going to give a brief description of it as I remember it now, almost a decade later.

The Incident

It was a weeknight - maybe a Tuesday night - December 17th, 2002. I guess I could look up the exact day of the week since I apparently remember the date. I think I remember the date because I remember that I had something in my pocket - maybe a bus transfer or a receipt - with the date on it and I remember thinking that day was going to be memorable. But I thought it would be memorable for a different reason - a joyous reason. I saved that piece of memorabilia for that exact reason. I have since thrown it out.

I was in my third year of graduate school at the University of Pittsburgh. There was no snow yet and I recall that it wasn't even that cold, but probably in the 40s-50s. That afternoon/evening was my department's holiday party and I had been drinking beer and eating potluck party food and I remember I traveled back to my neighborhood with my co-worker/friend and her boyfriend since they lived nearby and we were gonna all go out dancing together after we changed or something like that. In fact, I believe we had gone to our respective apartments and had already changed...we were walking together towards the bus stop when my cell phone rang.

Mistake #1: I saw that it was my ex-girlfriend who I still (God only knows why!) had feelings for and believed that she still had feelings for me despite the fact that we had broken up a year and a half prior and she was dating somebody else. [That's called 'delusional'.] My heart leaped because it was her calling me and my co-worker/friend said not to answer it. I answered it. [Commence eye roll.]

Mistake #2: My ex was saying I should come over to her apartment and play cards with her before her roommate came home - that her girlfriend wasn't there, either. I told her I'd been drinking already and was on my way out with my friends. She said that she was drinking, too, and that she had more beer so I should come over. Then I think we had one of those exchanges that only we used to have - like these somewhat clever back-and-forths that I cannot even quite remember anymore, but they felt like we could read each other's minds. I wanted to go over, but I also wanted to be sociable and go out dancing with my friends. They said I should forget about her and come out as planned. Here's my biggest regret: Again, I dismissed their advice - instead, I indulged myself and went over to my ex's apartment. [If this were a movie, this is when you'd be like "don't do that! come on! you know that's no good!"...but it wasn't a movie and I wasn't even as healthy as I am now - and you know I'm still not healthy enough yet!]

So I went to my ex's apartment where we drank, played cards and laughed. I think I felt 'high' with attention and felt like we were connecting the way we had connected when we were together - maybe satisfying a fantasy that she triggered for me, well...with the attention, I suppose, like an affirmation of my worth. Anyway, read: triggering my fantasies and drinking. Then her roommate came home - and there's tension between me and her roommate because of all the drama with my ex. She knew us before we broke up - not long before, but briefly. Anyway, there was all sorts of jealousy and shit feelings between us. But my ex wanted to include her in the cards so she decided we should teach her how to play Spades. Right, now I remember - my ex's girlfriend was heading over so we were going to play with four people (cause you need four)...so that also was starting to feel uncomfortable for me...then in the meantime, we were supposed to teach her roommate how to play. The build-up here is to try to figure out what was the start of the downturn - I think it was when her roommate came over and it wasn't just the two of us anymore. We were also pretty drunk. I'm not sure if we were stoned, either, but it's highly likely - well, I don't think we were, actually, that night. I think it was that we were drunk - and had both been drinking for hours already and by then it was starting to be less fun.

The thing about Spades is that it was our game - we had a particular connection that felt telepathic almost and we were a good team - we often won! So when she said I'd be on her roommate's team and her girlfriend would be on her team, I felt hurt and jealous.

Anyway, I'm sure I was less fun anymore at that point and I think we may have even argued over something about how to teach her roommate how to play the game. Yes - that was it. Then suddenly my ex decided that it was time for me to leave (she had a way of suddenly dissociating from the current conversation or mood and changing to either a neutral or dark mood) and since she had picked me up earlier, she was gonna drive me to my apartment in her girlfriend's Jeep Liberty. Her sudden mood change must have felt like abandonment to me, I think, which triggers my issues with that and of course taking her girlfriend's car/jeep was also a huge trigger for my jealousy. I'm certain she was trying to trigger the jealousy. I don't think her sudden mood change had to do with me so much as it is her learned defense mechanism from trauma in her childhood (which I happen to know about and will not share here - just to acknowledge that she has stuff to deal with too.) Anyway, I went with her but was very upset.

This is where the story gets fuzzy-ish. I cannot remember the exact sequence of events but this is what I recall as of today: my ex was quiet in the car for most of the way back to my apartment - I only lived maybe a 10min drive away. I asked her what was wrong, why she suddenly wanted me to leave. She said I was being a "bitch". I said I didn't think I was.  I cannot remember all that was said, but we were definitely at the beginning of a very heated, emotional conversation when we very soon arrived at my street, in front of my apartment building. She wanted me to get out of the car. I wanted to finish the conversation and said I wasn't getting out of the car until we finished the conversation. We just sat there, the car running, idling in the middle of my street in front of my apartment.  Few words were really spoken, I think, but I do remember getting pretty upset at her and picking a photo of her girlfriend with her kids in it and tearing it in half. [I'm making no attempt to preserve any type of innocence here.] Then she said she's gonna get out and call the police. Well, first she got out of the car and came over to the passenger side of the car and tried to yank me out - I think I locked the doors or something. She gave up on that and started walking the other way towards the gas station on the corner (I lived on a one-way street). After a couple of minutes, I got out of the car and ran towards her. As soon as I caught up to her, she turned around and sprinted back to the car. So I ran after her. She jumped in and I was right behind her - basically, I jumped in after her but didn't really make it into the car. I essentially made it so she couldn't shut the door but she was sitting in the drivers' seat. We struggled - she was trying to push me out the door and I was trying to keep the door open and get in, possibly. Then she said, "Are you in or are you out?" And I said, "I guess I'm in then." (Even though I wasn't). So she starts to drive away with me still kind of holding on, halfway in the drivers' side door/seat. As she starts driving away she's still trying to push me out of the car. Maybe halfway down the street, she manages to push me out of the car except that my foot is caught inbetween the door and the seat. So I fall out but not completely out and I'm being dragged down the street, hanging out the door by my foot and my back is on the ground - I remember I could see the wheel behind my head but all I could think of was trying to get unstuck and roll away.

By the end of the street, I managed to get my foot out from being stuck in the door and I rolled away from the jeep with the rear wheel coming within maybe a few inches of my head. I was crying hysterically at that point and also I had lost my breath. I remember some guy had been walking down the street and asked if I was ok and if I wanted him to call an ambulance. I said I wasn't ok but I didn't want him to call the ambulance. I think I said I wanted a hug but I cannot remember and cannot remember if he gave me one. I feel like he did, though.

Honestly, writing this all down again and (almost) re-living it is making me realize, even more so than I ever did before, how much of this was mine - my fault. I remembered it differently for so long - that she provoked me, that she treated me like shit, that she almost killed me (and that's true but...now I see so clearly that I was crazy that night. I had just completely lost my mind, for sure.) Sadly, the story doesn't end there - I didn't even mention the cops yet! Taking the shame out of this is gonna take a bulldozer!

Mistake #3: After I caught my breath and walked over to my apartment (down the street now), I got to the front door and realized that I didn't have something - was it my phone? or my keys? or my jacket? Oh... it was my jacket! Which had my phone in it!...ok, right, but I did have my keys 'cause without hesitating for one second, I decided to drive in my car back over to my ex's apartment to get my jacket with my cell phone in the pocket. I just wanted my shit back.

When I got to my ex's apartment, the door was open so I let myself in but my ex and her girlfriend weren't there. Her roommate said they had gone back to my apartment to return my jacket. I said I didn't believe her or them - that I would just wait for them to come back and they would have to give me my jacket right then and there. I honestly thought they might be throwing it away or doing something else evil to my stuff - destroying it somehow. There was some arguing with her roommate but I didn't budge. I was in my ex's room, laying on her bed, crying. I think I heard her roommate talking on the phone to my ex and relaying her the message about me. Anyway, they soon returned - without my jacket - and there was talk about calling the cops - I think her roommate said she would call the cops which just pissed me off more because I felt like if anyone was gonna get arrested, it should be her (my ex) 'cause she almost ran me over and I had the cuts/scrapes/bruises to prove it! I was so sick of them threatening to call the cops!

Mistake #4: I decided that I was absolutely not going to move until I got my jacket and cell phone back in my hands, both intact and undamaged. I truly believed that the cops would either charge my ex with assault and take her away or slap us on the wrists, scold us for fighting and then leave us alone. I remember thinking something along the lines of "fine! You wanna call the cops?! Then fine, it'll be my pleasure to watch you get arrested!" Also - I failed to mention that my ex's girlfriend at that time was also a cop. I'm not sure if that is relevant except that at some point in the struggle, right before the cops arrived and as they found us struggling - my ex and her girlfriend, the cop, were trying to handcuff me with her handcuffs and we were physically struggling - I was holding onto the mattress like my life depended on it and they were trying to twist my arms around behind my back in order to handcuff them. I was actually screaming at that point cause it hurt and then the cops came in.

The cops immediately split us up. Again, I was crying hysterically - having trouble catching my breath, in pain, angry, sweating (fighting works up a sweat!)... We each declined to press charges but because we each had marks on us (I guess she had some marks on her from our struggle in the car when I was trying to get in the door) and because it was clear there was a fight going on in the apartment - the screaming could be heard from the street, apparently - the city of Pittsburgh pressed charges against us and we were each handcuffed and arrested. I didn't believe it until they read us our Miranda Rights. We were each charged with "simple assault" which is a misdemeanor.

Arrested

To 'arrest' means "to bring to a stop". Boy is that an accurate description! That night went downhill so fast - it was like a runaway freight train - and I don't know how else it would've stopped - I think it very well might've stopped in an even more tragic way had we not been arrested (as in with somebody's accidental death - like mine). So, in a way, thank god we were arrested! That is the only time I will ever say that.

If you have never been arrested or even if you have only really been arrested for demonstrating or something really minor like that (as in, you actually meant to get arrested), then you probably have little to no idea what actually happens. I certainly didn't! Like I said, it's humiliating - probably the single most humiliating thing that has ever happened to me.

The cops handcuffed me behind my back, just as you always see on TV and in the movies. They walked me out to their car, opened the back door and had me get in. I remember the seat was plastic, sculpted for your behind to sit in but really, maybe it was for your hands (cause remember, my wrists were handcuffed behind my back - imagine trying to sit like that in a car.) I got the guy cops and my ex got the girl cop and maybe another guy - I don't remember if there were two with her or not but there were two with me. I was disappointed to get the guys, to be honest. I didn't feel any warmth at all from them. I don't know if I would've felt any warmth from the woman cop, but I wonder if I would've felt so alone and invisible. When it comes to people I don't know, I feel invisible to men whereas women make me feel seen and even like there's compassion between us. Of course, maybe this has something to do with me being a lesbian, but I'm not entirely sure if that's the case or not. I think it could also have to do with me being a woman and with the way women are socialized to be caretakers in our society. Anyway, so I got the dude-cops.

I asked the cops right as we got in the car if we could drive by my apartment to see if my jacket with my phone in it was there and if so, to get it. I suppose they were feeling generous, so they said we could and for some reason I remember getting out of the cop car and picking up my jacket which appeared to be thrown against the front door of my apartment building...but that doesn't seem to make a lot of sense to me - maybe one of the cops picked it up. All I know is that I remember feeling pretty foolish when I realized that my jacket really was there and I should've just gone home instead of waiting for the cops to come. But at that time I still thought it'd be a fairly quick turnaround - just go to the station and get arraigned or whatever. I still didn't know what lie ahead.

The next thing I remember, after we got my jacket with my phone and wallet in it, was that on our way to the jail/station, there was a call on the cops' radio saying something about a "perp"... or maybe we went to get gas and there was a call...something or other, but in any case, there was a black man at the gas station and the cops called back on the radio that there was a guy "fitting the description of the perp" at the gas station and that they'd need backup or another car to come get him since they already had me. I remember thinking to myself that this is racial profiling right in front of my face. There was absolutely nothing suspicious about that guy - granted, maybe just to me - but I really think they just wanted to grab him cause he was black and out by himself, walking around at the gas station late at night. I couldn't believe that they were really just gonna arrest him like that even though he clearly wasn't doing anything illegal - except "walking while black", I guess.

So next they took me downtown to the city jail and police station. The cops walked me into an entrance room of the jail where I had to take off all of my accessories - I had to give them my jacket, my phone, my wallet, my keys - essentially anything I had in my pockets, including one of my good pens. Then a woman cop took off my handcuffs and patted me down. I tried to ask her questions but she didn't answer anything I asked - as if she was a robot. I may have even been crying. I cannot remember if she told me to shut-up or not but I do remember feeling like she thought I was a horrible person and that I deserved to be locked up. I certainly did not feel like that at all! I believed that I was innocent and I knew that I am not a horrible person. I remember wondering, what ever happened to the idea of "innocent until proven guilty"? After the pat down and search, I was walked down the hall around a corner and into a fairly small, narrow cement block room with a door that had a window to the hall that faces the front desk where some cops sat. This was my "holding cell". There was a "bed" - a metal table built into the wall on the right as you face in, and a toilet without a seat and one roll of toilet paper. I don't remember if there was a window - but if there was, it was too small and too dark to look out of. Of course, after they put me in the room, they shut the door and it locked from the outside. Again, no one told me anything about the process or what was going on or anything at all. That would be the theme for the next 12 hours, essentially. It was pure hell.

After that, everything starts to blur together - I was alone for awhile, crying/balling into the toilet paper roll (cause it was the only thing that didn't smell horrible)... I tried to lay down on the metal "bed" but that was super-uncomfortable, but I was exhausted! I didn't sleep at all. At some point, two more women were brought into the cell with me which was a welcome relief for me cause they had been arrested before and knew what to expect - yeah, real class act there.  [I know, I have no right to judge but honestly, if you've been arrested before, why would you ever let yourself get into another situation where there was any possibility of being arrested again?!?] These ladies had been trespassing on one of their ex's property although they had restraining orders on them...I don't remember the whole story but of course they told it to me! They were surprisingly relaxed, as I recall - I mean, they certainly weren't hysterically crying the way I had been when I was first brought in - I think they were just angry, and at least they had each other (I think they were either mother and daughter or a woman and her best friend or sister or something like that). They told me how I'd be taken out and have my picture taken, fingerprints, etc etc., and then later I'd be arraigned, I'd get my phone call and then, finally, if someone came to post bail, I would be able to go home. They were there with me for a couple of hours at least, but then they were removed and I was alone again.

At some point, I was taken out of the cell to have my "mug shot" taken and to be fingerprinted. Again, no one answered any of my questions, only saying stuff like "they'll come get you" or "I just need to take your picture" - you know, again, like they're all fucking robots. I remember after some time - maybe it was 6 or 7am at that point - they opened the door and gave me some food and there may have even been a pencil on the tray. I wasn't able to eat but I drank the orange juice. It's not like the food looked terribly enticing anyway, I think it was either a small box of cereal or oatmeal...something nondescript. Anyway, it was the pencil that saved my soul! I mean, my mind was out-of-control and I had no way of stopping it or doing anything with it prior...but once I got the pencil, I was able to write, draw, whatever, on whatever I could get my hands on - the cereal box, the toilet paper...anything! When I put the food tray back on the floor for them to take away, I kept the pencil. I don't even quite remember why they had given it to me in the first place - I think I had to fill something out with it - a questionnaire of sorts (certainly not a "how are we doing?" questionnaire!!!)

The next most humiliating thing of the incident was after awhile when I realized that I had to go to the bathroom. Not just pee, by the way. I mean, with all the turmoil of the evening, getting drunk and being arrested...my tummy was doing flips and so eventually there was no question I was gonna have to have an evacuation. The seatless toilet was in the line of view down from the door (with the window in it which looked out onto the hall and the cops' desk across the narrow hall - lots of cops walking by, working, etc etc.) So I was not looking forward to taking a shit - a nasty shit, for that matter - while folks could look in and see me doing it! I'm not that kind of girl! But it had to be done and I did it. I used much of that toilet paper at that point. And yeah, it didn't smell very well for quite some time. But of course, time is what I had.

Well, eventually, I was moved out of that holding cell to another holding cell - on my way to which I saw my ex in her cell. That second holding cell was much bigger but had the bars and so you could see and hear everyone else around in their cells. I think I may have tried to talk to my ex a couple of times, but soon we were moved again. The next cell they put me in was a temporary cell near the court where the judge then arraigned each of us - you know, telling us what we're charged with, stating the bail and then we were moved again. I think that's maybe when we had to see the nurse to make sure we weren't sick or anything that they'd have to take responsibility for. After the nurse, we were then left out in a room with a payphone. In fact, at that point I guess they didn't give a shit if we beat each other up or not cause my ex was there with me, too.

Can you believe it - she was laughing?! She thought the whole thing was pretty funny! I was furious and sad and still so scared. She called her girlfriend to come get her and pay her bail. I called my work/school/lab. I talked to my supervisor/mentor (not my boss/Professor/Advisor). She said she'd do this for me this one time but that this wasn't the first time she had to bail someone out of jail (apparently she had to do it for her brother once, too)...and she clearly was extremely disappointed in me. In fact, later she told me that she didn't want me to babysit her daughter anymore because she felt she couldn't trust me and my judgment. It was essentially the end of our relationship - and we had had a good, mutually respectful relationship until then - we had been friends, even.

My ex left before me - she even had a ride home. About a half hour later I was told that my bail had been paid and that I could leave. I didn't have a ride home. I was in downtown Pittsburgh and my apartment was in a neighborhood called "Friendship" about 5 miles east. I walked home. I cried the whole way. About midway home, I finally got up the nerve to call my mom and tell her what had happened - or at least the gist of it. (I needed to borrow some money to pay back my supervisor for paying my bail.) I really didn't care if I got hit and killed by a car. I was feeling reckless.

When I got home, I was so relieved to see my pets/babies! It was the first night I had ever spent away from my dog since I had adopted her about a month before. I had been worried about her but she was fine - just really happy to see me. Oh and by the way, on my way out of the jail, I was given my personal items back. I got my phone, my wallet, my jacket, my keys...but not my good pen. They keep what they want - what they can get away with keeping. So when I got home and I found my good pen, this is what I wrote in my journal:

"After something huge and traumatic happens, one has the urge to never think about it again & try to throw it out but it's all pretend anyway - it creeps up out of the corners when you don't want it to, anyway. But I DON'T feel like going into it all right now. // Ok, but I will say that finding this PEN tonight really made me feel GOOD for a moment because I thought I'd lost BOTH pens (Well, I knew that the police had the other one - they took it from my pockets and didn't return it to me with my stuff at the end of the time.)"

So there you go. That's my story. We were both charged with "Simple Assault", but got our records expunged after completing the class on "intimate partner abuse". I learned a lot from that class. But not enough, apparently, to keep me out of unhealthy relationships altogether (although I did recognize my former relationship as being unhealthy from almost the beginning...just couldn't get out of it. That's the "love addiction", I guess.) Now I hope my work on my issues of love addiction and codependence will help me not only recognize unhealthy situations, but to also be healthier. First, though, I have to come to terms with how unhealthy I have been - and why. Here I have written the worst incident that came out of my unhealthy relations. Here I am finally taking the shame out of it. I am handing it over to my 'higher power' - which, to me, is the me that I would be if I weren't human - if I were perfect.

I'm not perfect.

But I can be better.

Temptation

New Order wrote the original, but Moby transformed the song for me in their cover of it. (It's not Moby, the dude, singing it so I honestly didn't think it was really Moby but I guess it is...)

This particular video isn't satisfying to me and goes on for an additional two to three minutes after the song ends, but it's still the best one on YouTube for this song. Those are my disclaimers. Maybe I shall make a video and post it, thus fixing this problem.

This version of this song - and I also love the original - penetrates through outer layers of my being, into the depths of my heart. It's soothing and the other night it brought me to tears because I truly felt the lyrics. In fact, I felt the song being sung to me,

Heaven

A gateway

of hope

Just like a feeling

I need

it's no joke

And though it hurts me

to see you

this way

Betrayed by words

I'd never heard

To hard to say them

...

Up down turn around

Please don't let me hit the ground

Tonight I think I'll walk alone

Find my soul as I go home

Oh it's the last time

Oh it's the last time

 especially these words:

And I've never met anyone quite like you before

And I've never met anyone quite like you before

And I've never met anyone quite like you before

And I've never met anyone quite like you before

And I've never met anyone quite like you before

And I've never met anyone quite like you

Before

But I sing these words:

Each way I turn

And though I"ll always try

To break the circle

That has been placed

Around me

From time to time

I find I lost

Some meaning

That was urgent

To myself

I do believe

Up down turn around

Please don't let me hit the ground

Tonight I think I'll walk alone

Find my soul as I go home

Oh it's the last time

Oh it's the last time

Oh it's the last time

Oh it's the last

Time

Maybe the order is off, but look...what I mean to say is that I feel these words, her voice, the soft, gentle nature of the song, like an angel is cradling me as I walk home, alone, finding my soul... and she says to me, and I know it's true, that I've never met anyone quite like me before. Sure - everyone's unique, and this could apply to anyone. But for me...well, I know I'm a bit "out there", strange, different, weird...always been, you know? It hurt a lot growing up, feeling so different from everyone else... and I thought, when I figured out I had Depression, maybe that was the difference (why I cried a lot and was lonely a lot, didn't have a lot of friends, spent a lot of time alone)... then I figured out I was gay and I thought - ok, that's it! ... then I was still strange, even amongst the gays/lesbians... and now I see that I am a "love addict" and codependent - is that the last piece? Does that completely finish the explanation of why I'm so different, strange, odd, weird? Probably not.

But I still want to be loved. The way she says that she's never met anyone quite like me before is in a loving way, as if to say she loves me for it. And when I say, 'she', I really mean me. It's me - I'm her, she's me. (Obviously, not literally - what I would give for a beautiful voice like that!)

The truth is I meet people all the time who I feel I've seen around before, met someone else similar to them before - and I think this is more of a reflection of the masks or acts we put on in order to fit into the worlds we want to fit into, not really a reflection of the true nature of the individual - but not me. I have also met others like me in this way - others who don't walk the beaten path of personality or looks or behaviors. It's a hard way to be - oneself - in a world full of coersion and temptation. It's a hard thing to love yourself in this world, being yourself, when you're not entirely sure it's objectively "ok" to be who you are, but you are her, anyway. Yeah, that's where this is all coming from - this hurt. I'm trying to grasp loving myself even if no one else can or will love me for me (whether or not they do).

And I told her - it's the last time, she's the last time, the last one I give in to my love addiction. The next love is for me.

Still

I meditated this morning. I'd like to bring the practice of meditation back into my life in a regular, habitual way - such as with exercise, although I even need to commit more time and effort to that right now.

Meditation is the practice of letting your mind sit "still". I guess that's not a universal definition, it's just what I've gathered from the different types of meditations I've been taught - well, it's at least as accurate as my own experiences have given me. I mean, it's much more than just that - the outcome is much, much more - but as far as I can tell, the action is simple: clear your mind for a given length of time, let it sit "still" like your body. People that have learned to do this on a regular basis, such as daily, eventually come to have something like an "enlightenment" or a "spiritual awakening" or find eternal peace and serenity. Some people even learn how to "astral travel" or have "out-of-body" experiences (OBEs). This is what I would like - I'd like to have an OBE. My understanding is that it takes years, if not decades, to reach this stage in your meditation practice. Also, I'm pretty sure it's not even everyone who does the meditation for that length of time that is able to attain that state. So...I realize my goal is almost on the unattainable level but... even just getting to the part of feeling serene and at eternal peace would be worth the effort to me - and I'm pretty sure that's almost a guarantee if you continue to practice your meditation.

There are all sorts of "tricks" to getting to that place where your mind sits "still". They work for some and not for others, hence the need for multiple ways to get there. One "trick" that I found intriguing was actually described in a children's book on meditation where the instructor took a jar of water with glitter in it and shook it up, then placed it on the floor or table. He told the children to watch the glitter as it settles and by the time the glitter settles, their minds will be clear and still, like the water. I thought this was so neat so I bought some glitter and made my jar of water and glitter. I shook it up and watched the glitter settle - it was mesmerizing. My only issue is that the glitter actually settled fairly quickly and my mind was not quite clear or still as the water by that time. However, if I put the effort in to still my mind at the same time, the glitter-water helps me keep it there, helps me to keep my mind empty and clear since I'm focused on something without any thoughts attached to it. In fact, I meditated like that this morning. It helped and I shut my eyes by the time the glitter settled at the bottom of the jar.

In the past, I've also meditated to specific "meditation music" or sounds. That has been very helpful, too, but I do worry that my mind isn't becoming completely clear in those situations because I'm still using it to listen to music/sounds. I guess the biggest issue that people tend to have with meditation is in trying to clear their minds and we are not used to doing that in the western world. I think people feel like they're failures if they cannot do it right away or even after a bit of practice. However, I think it's probably similar to any new skill that you try to learn - you need to continue to practice, and allow yourself to "mess-up" since that's the only way you get better. But again, it's about disciplining yourself to make the time and put in the effort to practice.

I will certainly keep my blog posted with my progress - especially if I have any revelations or get to have an OBE.

Always Everything Never Nothing

It has almost been two weeks since I last posted anything here. I've been thinking a lot - but not really coalescing into a single, coherent, structured concept or idea. Generally, I like my posts to be as articulate as possible. Therefore, I haven't posted.

Also, my thoughts have been disjointed and fleeting. Essentially, I'm not entirely sure of myself and my own perceptions. So committing them to the infinite memory of the digital universe has not been an enticing proposition for me.

But here I am again, ready to commit. [As usual, right? Always committing too soon. Everything too soon or too late. But never right on time. And always speaking in extremes. Always, Everything, Never...Nothing.]

Welcome to the inner workings of a codependent's mind.