Saturday, January 26, 2013

What It Took ~ Bad Things Happen II

four by six cell containing a steel cot without so much as a thin blanket or flat mattress to soften ones butt forced me to sit on raw wire mesh or the floor.  I was starting to come down.  Feelings of disappointment and despair consumed me.  Tears stained my blouse as I continued to cry.  I had always tried to better myself, but alcohol was a release, the only thing that dulled the pain.  I didn't have anyone to call.  Looked like I would be in for the long haul.  I never dreamed I would ever be in this place at anytime in my life. My roommate was taking the time and making the calls to arrange whatever was necessary and possible to get me out. I had no hope and expected a full 4 hour stay.  The night was young.  I knew there would be others joining as the evening progressed, so I marked my seat on a most uncomfortable spot.  
How had I gotten here?
In jail, you ask?

The day was a beautiful September Friday and I had been so looking forward to getting home at the end of a long, difficult week in much need of relaxation with my friend, Stoleys.  Frozen cold for better flavor, straight over ice, my drug of choice.  I did not have an opportunity to get my newest bottle hidden in the freezer because it would never make it home. 
Almost home... my apartment, my home up around the next curve.  A passing vehicle swerved abruptly into the left lane and then jolted back into the correct path. I topped the hill and as the hood of my own car leveled out, I saw a white utility van in the oncoming traffic headed my way. And then, on the shoulder of road in the lane I'm driving in, I glimpse a person. An instant was all there was to brake with no place to go.

First impact occurred thudding against the front passenger quarter panel with an immediate second whomp against the windshield on the same side.  Oh my god, someone had been walking on the narrow asphalt that edged the street.  I immediately turned right into the first entrance of the complex.  Stopping instantly and opening the car door, I jumped out and ran to the edge of the street being careful not to get in the way of traffic.  Someone was screaming at me to call 911.  I hustled my ass back into my car and pulled off up the hill and headed home via the back way. What the fuck do I do?  What the fuck do I do with this bottle of vodka?  My mind was frantic. Should I dispose of the indicator for my problem.  I diverted going directly home, stopping briefly several buildings away from my own.  Looking around to make sure others would not see what I was about to do, I slipped from the driver's seat up aside the dempster dumpster and tossed in an unopened quart of my favorite and one of vodka's finest.  I piled back into the driver's seat and backed out to quickly reach my own multi-unit a couple of buildings away without detection.

I ran inside to call emergency response units.  As I reached for the phone, my roommate jerked me around to ask me what was happening and all I could say is, 'I hit somebody.'
Hearing the sirens in the distance told us both the call did not need completing.  I turned and returned to the scene as I had promised to see an ambulance and police cruiser already on the scene.  As I exit my vehicle, I hear the officer cite 'hit and run' into his communication device.  I yelled in his direction, 'No, it's not. I'm here' totally unaware of what that brought on the months that followed.

Looking up at the ceiling of my tiny cell appeared to be an ocean away, I felt so small and unworthy of living. 

Sunday, January 20, 2013

My Scarlet Letter ~ ORION's Prey

This entry has spent a long time in my posts queue.  Reaching the realization that I wasn't treated as a human being is quite a shock and shameful to admit to myself.  Brings to mind memories of the things I tried to do to stop the assaults.  I'll save those for another post.  I know this truth is not something I could understand or handle before now in my recovery.

And, I WILL do something I believe this person can do ~ help other survivors through the painful recovery of child sexual abuse by speaking out and sharing my reality to help stop crimes against children.

I have always loved looking at the stars.  Laying in the fresh cut grass on my front lawn when I was in my first year of junior high, all was right with the world.  I had two best friends that I did everything with.   My family actually lived in one place for more than 2 years.  I am the daughter of a U. S. Army Captain 20 year veteran.  As a consequence, we moved around a lot when I was a kid.  I think at one point there were more schools than years in school through freshman year in high school.

Always the new kid on the block, seemed I stuck out like a sore thumb because I didn't have any friends the first day of school unlike everybody else.  Nobody that I had known since kindergarten.  Nearly every kid around me had known every other kid since they started school.  Sometimes my family would move in the middle of a school year which was more stressful than the previous 'first day' run through.  On those days all the students would stare at the new kid when I got introduced by the teacher.  These educational milestones definitely reinforced a feeling of being on the outside very young in life.  Being open, friendly and funny was what I learned early would help me blend in.  These characteristics would provide the base for hiding for many years of my life.

During the first few months of star gazing I became interested in astronomical science and began to learn the constellations for the northern hemisphere from a parcel of earth in western Texas.  One can see millions upon millions of reflective diamonds speckled in the heavens from the edge of this western city, where there are no street lights to light up the night.  I learned to identify the constellation ORION, the hunter, and set my desire on learning all of them.

What I did not know in those moments of free-spirited bliss, lying in the grass, ironically, is I would become prey.  The hunted.  Day in.  Day out.  Night in.  Night out.  At no time would there be an opportunity to rest from the hunter.  Be watchful.  Be wary.  Be ever on guard.  Shields up, as said many times in Star Trek.  

I became painfully aware of where the hunter was at all times, in all seasons.  In an instance, I could spot  ORION in the sky.  I lived my life in fear the hunter would corner me and coerce me into severing the bonds of family members and friends. Little by little, he was successful.  Separated in every way: a spontaneous trip to the grocery store with my mom was prohibited.  He would carve away a slice of my soul with each trip she took away from the house.  Even times when she was tending and weeding her glorious gardens that lined the backyard fence of stone and concrete, he would attack.  Right under her nose.  He was fearless with the kill.  Slowly, he sought to slaughter every inch of me.

Symbolic reflection, now as I look into the sky and spot ORION ~ I think, I won, you bastard!  I'm still here.  I don't have to know where that star cluster is every night anymore.  My hunter is dead.  Never to hunt again.