Make It Stop @ MindSay 
So, here's what's going on with me.
I've been in an inexplicably ever-present, sarcastic cloud lately. I don't like not being my usually manic self. "It don't sit right with me, Lois!" *breathes*
I find myself at the inception of summer, being fiercly annoyed by cat callers and solicitors on the bus stop in the morning as I try to prepare myself mentally for the work day ahead. There is this stalkeresque guy who rides the same bus as I most mornings and stares- but never speaks. Whell, he finally got up the nerve to hand me a note saying, "I think you are very pretty, please call me." I guess in all his gawking he didn't bother to look at my ring finger. YA THINK?
Then there are the Latino men on my block with the libidos from Hell. Really, how many prostitutes you know wait on the bus stop holding a bus pass and a briefcase?!?! NONE!! So why, then, do they pull up, roll down the window and make stupid "ven aqui" faces at me? What, you think I'm gonna be all: "Oh, I was going to go to work so I can feed my kids, but since you pulled up, offered me money to sleep with you and did the eyebrow cha-cha...hey!"
Ev'ry morning the same shiite.
I guess I should stop complaining and be grateful that men find me attractive, huh...
Getthafugouttahea.
Woosah...
So, today is Gwensday (I started writing this on Monday) and I'm in better spirits. Guess I just needed to vent and relax. I haven't been able to quit smoking, somewhat much to my dismay, but I have to do one thing at a time. Besides, I rather enjoy it. I guess that's the point, huh. :(
This past weekend, I went to the salon down the street for a masage and facial ( Foe $50!! A steal!) and the lady gave me a Lipton diet green tea to drink afterwards, so add that to my list of new addictions. I'm really trying to be healthier, but I find a hard time being consistent. In the wake of the deaths of so many of my family members (most of which were not health related), there is a constsnt internal struggle between wanting to enjoy life as it come and wanting to improve...you know, so I can extend it. Da irony!!
Guess I have some more meditating/soul searching to do so I can figure out what the hell it is I really want, yah?
Any suggestions for a mantra?
Why don't drivers stop when they see people waiting to cross? I guess they make the assumption that wherever I'm going, couldn't possibly be as important as where they're going.
This is bullshit. If I get run over and it's not by an ambulance, I will be sooo disappointed.
It took me a while to decide whether I wanted this to be a public post or not.
I had to face someone today that I never wanted to see again in my life. When I was three and a half, four years old (it lasted for quite a while in little-kid years), one of my father's friends molested me. It's something that has been part of me my entire life, but it's something that I was able to suppress, something that I've been able to keep buried for quite some time.
Until today.
He came to the marina today. I couldn't hide. I couldn't run away. I had to be the dutiful employee. Apparently, this man is friends with one of my customers. Which means that I could be seeing him rather frequently this summer. It's been twenty years, give or take, since I've seen him. He asked about my family, my life, and how things are going in general. He trapped me for fifteen, maybe twenty minutes. My skin was crawling, I felt like I was shaking.
As soon as he left, I had to go to the bathroom because I thought I was going to be sick.
My manager wasn't there at the time. The older lady I work with saw that I was freaking out and asked what was wrong. It's the first time I ever talked about it with anyone at work, even Jason. He doesn't know yet. I guess I'm going to have to tell him now, even though I never wanted to. I didn't want anyone to know. My parents know, a few close friends know, but very, very few people know.
He invaded my private place for the second time.
I never thought I'd dread going to work like I dread tomorrow. I need to talk to the manager to see if I can have an "escape plan" if he ever comes into the store again. I know I shouldn't be running, but I don't know how to deal with this. It isn't like I can confront him about that somewhere so public. It isn't professional, it isn't proper. Running might not be dignified, but at least I won't scream something I could regret.
I don't want to go tomorrow.
I don't want to corner Mindy as soon as I get to work. But I don't think I can go too long without telling her what happened today. I never did tell her. But I want her to know why I may act strange if something happens again. I also need to let her know why I don't want to be alone if they go away this summer. I don't care if it's canine or if it's human, I just don't want to be alone. I also don't care if there's just some little code I can use to get one of the guys over to the store on the radio, that would be fine, too. I just don't want to be alone.
Please don't let the nightmares start.
It's three am. I wish I wasn't alone. I don't want to fall asleep. I'm exhausted. I can't do for the rest of the summer. I don't have the energy. I don't have the strength.
Jason doesn't know.
I know, it's been 20 years, I should just get over it. But how do you get over something that traumatizing for someone so young? And how dare he come into my safe zone?
He violated me again.
Is nothing sacred? I know that he hasn't taken everything away from me, but I feel like he tarnished my river. I know it's a public place, and that this is a hazard of working with the public, but I don't want to share my favorite place with him. I don't share well. I feel like he is violating my home. The water is my home. I may live somewhere else, but it is what I eat, breathe, and sleep nine months out of the year. And I don't feel safe there anymore. He knows where I am.
My demons are returning.
But now where can I hide?
Ok, Well I'm sorry that my daughter's cancer treatment doesn't fit the project schedule and due dates. But its rather difficult to be schedule CANCER around a school schedule. And no one could have predicted her reaction.
Actually, it's heart breaking. To sit with Hannah and hold her during the "Shake and bake" part of her treatments and be not able to stop the seizures or the fever. To not be able to stop the pain of the shots and spinal taps. To listen to her scream "make it stop" and not be able to. To try and tell her I don't care about how she looks and she could never be ugly. To not know what to tell her when she asks if she'll be ok. To know her chance of a 2 year remission is less than 15%.To want to spend ALL my time sitting with her, but instead having to bounce back and forth between two places. To sometimes feel like I am ignoring all the other kids who never get to see me any more.
Oh yeah, And I am supposed to just focus exclusively on school work. Right. Its difficult so divided. I am divided between two countries, three cultures, and a world that really doesn't seem to accept the disabled.Being so fractured hurts on me, too. I have already had one breakdown (Something teachers don't accept as excuse)and I know I am close to another. But still that doesn't matter as long as I get all of my essays in. And ofcourse essays must be in english! which makes them harder. Since my brain Surgery, I have hard time with English.
Okay, so it seems like I came down with a cold and a bit of a fever. No big deal, I can handle that. However, this little package of sick came with an added bonus: the most violent, painful hiccups I've ever experienced in my life. I truly wanted someone to rip my esophagus out simply for relief. I was planning on doing DIY gastro-intestinal surgery to replace my diaphragm with a plastic serving tray. Anything to make my body stop spasming.
It was funny at first, with the loud hiccupping noises I was making during class and the like... but then came the jack hammering pain. I couldn't get the damn things to stop. I drank water, I held my breath, I breathed into a paper bag, I had my friend Phil try to "take" my hiccups for me (a trick, I think, that would normally work). Nothing. These bastards didn't want to go away. I've had them kick on about seven or eight times and each time they get worse. I fear the next they rear their ugly tissue they'll pop my lungs clean out of my chest.
It's a pile of suck... but I may have finally controlled them. Going on 6 hours now and no relapse. Wish me luck.
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