post about whether or not I view my chronic illness at part of me, or as separate for me. Talk about how Jessica’s post on monsters, and my feelings that my depression was a part of me, whereas I feel like my chronic physical illness isn’t a part of me, it’s like being in an abusive relationship, a bit.
Some things have happened. Nothing major. I’m still mostly apathetic and not really into being alive right now. Not that I want to be dead; I definitely don’t. The world is just mostly in sepia tones and I’m trying to really concentrate on the bright spots, in part because I’ve realized that I’ve still got some Lora issues to work through. When I’m not dealing with those, I’m trying to draw some color and brightness back into my life.
So I think I’m going to take a break from blogging. I haven’t blogged about poly things, for the most part, in a long, long time. This blog definitely helped me through some of the hardest emotional shit that I’ve ever dealt with in my life. Writing here and journaling are really the two things that got me through on some days. Continue reading taking a break
While I’ve been writing about the past, a few things have happened in the present with Teacher.
Another female student commented that he’d also behaved inappropriately with her once, when they were the last people out drinking. She was extremely startled when he groped her and actually slapped him across the face. He got indignant and said that he’d lost his balance and just “put a friendly hand on her for balance”. She told him that she’d rather he fall than touch her again like that and left.
They never spoke of it again. She never stayed to be the last person with him again. And she spent around the last year feeling somewhat upset at herself and worrying that she overreacted and that it was all just a huge misunderstanding and maybe she should have apologized.
She’s not worried about that anymore. Continue reading a few more developments
So here we finally are.
There was a point to laying all that groundwork. I think that to get the full effect of what happened, it’s really necessary to have an idea of what came before. Though on second thought, even not knowing everything, it’s probably clear that what happened next was pretty terrible.
Well, that being the case, I’m still not going to wish away the thousands and thousands of words I’ve written leading up to my dark night of the soul. It was good to get it out.
Given what’s happened recently, it’s good to remember everything I went through. I made it from there to here, and I had far less in resources than I do now. I’ll make it through again.
Picking up where I left off in the last post, Beth invited me to a campus presentation on date rape.
Beth had had some rape crisis counseling training. I now know that Beth had been worried for years that I was a rape survivor, and that that explained some of my behavior. She thought I was in a good place mentally (a better place than I actually was), and thought that I’d benefit from going, possibly getting support.
So I went. We went together. It was a Thursday night. I remember this because my class schedule for that semester only had classes Tuesday through Thursday (this is relevant to how things transpired). Continue reading More Than Two commentary – Chapter Four: Tending Your Self (part 5b – prologue to my dark night of the soul)
I went away to college.
I was a mess. I didn’t know why David stopped loving me. I didn’t know what I did wrong. I worried that I was a terrible person, flawed, messed up. Also, I’d had per-marital sex. A lot of it. With someone I wasn’t going to marry! I felt incredibly guilty about that. I’d let God down. I also felt betrayed by David, who knew how I felt about sex. Surely, if he wasn’t 100% sure that we were getting married, he wouldn’t have pushed to have sex. What happened? Maybe it was my fault; as he kept getting to know me, he saw that I was flawed, and so he changed his mind about marrying me. And now I was even more flawed, because of all this sex I’d had.
These are the thoughts of an eighteen year old in regards to sex with she had absolutely no concept of consent or her right to dictate what is done with her own body. All I had to go on, in terms of “right” and “wrong” were things I’d learned in the church. And according to the church, I’d done a whole bunch of wrong. Continue reading More Than Two commentary – Chapter Four: Tending Your Self (part 5a – prologue to my dark night of the soul)
A text conversation between Jon and me:
Jon: Just wanted to let you know, I didn’t finish cleaning up today because there were some dramas. But everything is fine.
Liz: What’s going on?
Jon: Oh, it’s about Lora and her stuff and her mom and work
<several minute pause>
Liz: I’m feeling a bit anxious. Can we talk?
Jon: Sorry. Lora’s mom is working a lot doesn’t want to take time off to get her stuff. She’s also worried that she doesn’t have room in her house for Lora’s stuff, so she’s getting Lora a storage space and we’re going to move her stuff there Thursday.
Liz: Her mom is getting her a storage unit? In our area? Or our hometown area?
Jon: In our area.
Liz: I’m confused. How did this happen?
Jon: I don’t know. Lora texted me and told me that was what they wanted to do.
Liz: I guess that works. I mean, as long as it’s out of our place, it can go anywhere.
<several minute pause>
Liz: I’m confused as to what the drama was/is.
Jon: Lora was freaking out about picking a place and the logistics.
Liz: I don’t really know what to say to that. Other than I’m glad you won’t have to deal with stuff like that anymore unless you want to.
As long as it’s out, that’s the part I care about. And it’s going to be out a day early, which is AWESOME.
A part of me speculates that Lora’s mom has decided that she’s done taking care of Lora, and that she’s essentially demanding Lora stay in our area and stand on her own two feet in whatever way she can figure out. Because Lora’s stuff…boxed up, it’s not a huge amount. It would fill up less than half of a small pick-up truck, so I really don’t think it’s about the stuff, unless Lora’s mom is a hoarder. I wouldn’t blame her for insisting Lora be out and on her own two feet, Lora being twenty-six and all.
Whatever is going on, her stuff is being moved out in two days now, instead of three, and I feel that much closer to freedom.
Past my initial feeling of “I don’t care where her stuff goes, just that it’s going”, came the following thought: “If Lora’s mom is refusing to support her any more, I really, really, really hope we don’t get a phone call a month later, with Lora saying she has no money and nowhere to go and will be homeless if we don’t let her stay with us”.
I’m going to leave that worry for another time, and just be grateful that this should all be over -keys back/stuff out- forty-eight hours from now.