Still Miraculous

I moved to a teeny-tiny town. I did it!

Today, as I finished cleaning my apartment, I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude. When I moved in, I didn't like the place. It was where I went "until I could change enough to go back". I felt like I was a kid being sent to my room. I was lonely. I was hurting.

At the same time, the way I found the place was perfect.
Desperate. Dying. Felt like the world was collapsing. I'd looked and looked for a place, but there was nothing that felt safe enough for me to even imagine trying to go to.
Sleeping under a trailer seemed better than most options.

And then Bishop Campbell met my landlord, and they told him about the little basement apartment that they only rent to single women. They didn't need a deposit, and they would work with me on paying the rent, and they were just kind people. So, that night, I stayed there.

So much happened there at that little place. Before I left, I sat down and said a prayer. Thanking God for the amazing progress I have made. For leading me on this journey. For everything that has happened to get me to this place.

The thought came to call Bishop Campbell. For the next two minutes, I argued with myself. And then I called him. He answered and said, "Wow. The spirit just works in amazing ways!"

It turns out an hour before I called, he'd been asking current bishop how I was doing. Current dude wouldn't tell him, because bishop confidentiality or something... Really... he has no clue how I'm doing... But that's beside the point. Bishop Campbell was at meetings, and they had just broken two minutes earlier. If I had called five minutes later, I would have missed him.

I told him about the divorce. I told him I was moving. I told him about many of my questions. I told him that I was making choices that many people are questioning, and I told him I didn't really care what people thought, because I just had to live my life.

He told me how amazingly strong with the spirit I am. He told me that he trusted me, because I wouldn't do anything that I didn't need to do to progress. He's seen it over and over. And then he told me that in all the times he'd talked to me, he'd never heard me sound so good.

I feel good. I feel excited. I feel light.
And my life is still miraculous in ways I will never be able to explain.

Absolutely Nothing!

I don't know where the thought came from. It might be gone tomorrow.
Today, I know, there is absolutely nothing wrong with me.
I am perfect just the way I am.

Not because of anything I have done, or will do, or think, or say, or don't say, or want, or...
Just because I am me.
I am perfect!

I joined the symphony!

How long have I wanted to do this?
Too long.

I love the way it feels to play again.
I love the way it feels to play with the full orchestra.
I love the way it feels when I "get it" and the music just flows through me.
I love the way it feels when the violin sings out.
I love the way it feels to count out the measures, watch the conductor, and feel the big picture of the whole song.

So anxious to start. SO GLAD I DID!
It feels amazing!!

They say its healthy to share, but...

Not sure why I feel the need to comment... I suppose this will just make me one of your "bitter sinners"... and I guess I'm willing to stand up and be hated.

I don't really care if Joseph Smith was a prophet or insane. I don't really care if Thomas Monson has spoken to God or not. I have prayed (and prayed and prayed) to understand and to know and to be who I need to be.

I was born in the church. I was married in the temple. Unfortunately, then I was treated with violence. I sought help from the "men of God" I was surrounded by, and they used similar rhetoric to what you just used... I was not happy in my marriage because I was sinning.

In the book, The 4 Agreements, Miguel Ruiz defines sin as any time we go against ourselves. I like that definition. I believe it acknowledge the Godliness within me, and I can do what is best for ME. I don't need a prophet to tell me what to do, it is within me.

Yes, I have a lot of guilt. I was taught by church leaders and parents alike to "be nice", "be selfless", "be quiet". I was taught that to think about myself AT ALL was selfish and shouldn't be done. I believed those teachings completely. I bought into them and repeated them to myself. Its hard to let go of the guilt when its constantly being rammed down my throat.

So I left. Not in the "remove my name" sense, but in the I can't go to church. I can't talk about it with you. Its not good for me.

And then all of my family, and all of the people that told me not to be selfish, so that they could be. All of the self-serving, self-righteous, abusive people in my life began telling me why I shouldn't do what I knew I HAD to.

I have been many abusive relationships, but the most abusive relationship is the one I have had with the church. I don't know how other people are. I suppose if a person is healthy in mind and spirit, the church wouldn't be able to hurt them. Does that justify what they do? Does it make it okay to abuse those who AREN'T healthy? And when it starts in childhood, how does one ever learn that it is okay to protect themselves?

If it makes any difference, I have had two different bishops tell me not to come to church. They heard ME and decided to guide ME.

I don't expect anyone else to follow my path. Its MY path. I do expect people to respect my path. And I expect everyone to know enough about who they are to travel their own path.

One of my favorite quotes is, "You're lost. One often gets lost when they use someone else's map."

Joseph Smith believed in personal revelation. The Book of Mormon challenges people to know for themselves. Just because you have proven it true for you, does that mean it MUST be true for everyone?

I don't believe lashing out in anger will help anyone... however, I also believe that sharing the darkest parts of ourselves gives us the best chance for healing.

Please come down off your high horse. Don't dismiss us all in the same way. You belong to a church that values agency beyond anything else.

SHOW ME that I can be loved for who I am, and I might just want to hang around.

Gianna Jessen

"I didn't survive to make others comfortable. I survived to shake things up a bit."


"Don't mess with me. My Father runs the world."

I am weaker than many of you. If you pay attention. If you listen. I have much to offer. The world that doesn't see or understand, could, if you only hear the courage and strength within me.

Hated from conception. Yet loves herself.
I was loved at conception. Loved at birth. Loved by many. Hurt. Used. Abused. And still can't love myself.

Can God make abuse beautiful?
I see how Cerebral Palsy can be beautiful.
I see how much suffering can be made beautiful, but all that happened to Steph, can it be made beautiful?

If all of that shit hadn't happened to me, I wouldn't be who I am... And I am beautiful.
Paul says God will compensate for all of the suffering. He will make it Good.
Dammit. He better.

This woman seems to have found her way...

I am a survivor... and one day...

This chart:
http://www.cbwhit.com/Victim-to-survivor.htm
was shared on the After the Silence board.

As I read through the different columns, I saw that I have been a victim... still am sometimes... and I felt compassion for myself. My feelings of anger at religion? Make perfect sense in context. And I won't stay there.

But what I saw, the incredibly powerful, AWESOME feeling...
I AM a survivor. I fit very nicely into that column. I've moved and progressed. And there IS more.

One day, I will be a Thriver.
People have traveled this road. They've made it.
I will too.

A walking contradiction

I don't find much comfort in scriptures... never have... well, not true... I find the same amount of comfort in scriptures that I find in other books. Sometimes things pop out to me, and I know, "this is true for me, right now," and I like that.

Today's quote come from 2 Ne 5:1-5

  1 Behold, it came to pass that I, Nephi, did cry much unto the Lord my God, because of the ^aanger of my brethren.

  2 But behold, their ^aanger did increase against me, insomuch that they did seek to take away my life.

  3 Yea, they did murmur against me, saying: Our younger brother thinks to ^arule over us; and we have had much trial because of him; wherefore, now let us slay him, that we may not be afflicted more because of his words. For behold, we will not have him to be our ruler; for it belongs unto us, who are the elder brethren, to ^brule over this people.

  4 Now I do not write upon these plates all the words which they murmured against me. But it sufficeth me to say, that they did seek to take away my life.

They were abusing him. Saying mean things. Hurting him. Beating him. They wanted to take away his life. If he had backed down and given them all the control they wanted, I imagine they wouldn't have had any reason to be angry. If he had let them control him, he would have been a slave, but he would have lived. He felt helpless. He didn't know what to do. So he prayed.

5 And it came to pass that the Lord did ^awarn me, that I, ^bNephi, should depart from them and flee into the wilderness, and all those who would go with me.

How many times have I been warned that I should get out? Depart from an abusive relationship, but I stay. God wouldn't tell me to leave my husband. The church says stay and "endure to the end". And then they say, turn over your fucking control to us, or the abusers, or whatever, so that you stay and be what God wants  you to be. And so I did.

Only God gives us warning. In our hearts, he lets us know, "This isn't right. You need to get out and get away." It is easy to dismiss His warning with so many people talking so loudly about what THEY think God wants ME to do.

Nephi left. He got out.
He didn't have contact with his abusers ever again.
And that was what the Lord wanted.

It doesn't really matter what all of the other people think, and how they want to judge my actions. I have to trust me and trust the Lord, and do whatever I have to do to keep myself safe and to find peace.

I'm silly.

I get paid in royalties. I design stuff, and if people buy the stuff, I get paid. I get paid quarterly.
This morning, running the report to see how much this check will be.


It was double what I expected.
I know MOST people would get really excited.
Not me. I had a panic attack.


What did I do wrong? How could it be that much? I'm greedy. How could I possibly ask for that much money? I'm not worth it. I didn't earn that much, and... blah, blah, blah...

Seriously?
Where does this stuff come from?


Lies. Its all lies.
The truth is, if I ran the report wrong... I'll fix it... No big deal.
The truth is, I designed some dang good stuff. People like it, and they bought way more than I was planning.
The truth is, I'm not greedy. People who are greedy don't set up a pay schedule like I have. They like the guaranteed money.
The truth is, I'm not asking for that much money... That was the agreement we came to when I started working.
The truth is, I AM WORTH IT!

Really... nothing to panic over...

Would you believe me if I said prayers are answered?

I'm not sure who this person is... The one that I am becoming... But sometimes she SCARES me.

Sunday dinner. I've been going every week since I moved out when I was eighteen. When I got married at nineteen, I brought the hubby along. When I got divorced, I went alone. When I started dating, I brought the boyfriend along until he was the hubby, and then we went together. There are certain things I say, and certain things I don't say. Only this week, I said the things that I don't say.

I'm questioning the church.
I got a text from a "dear friend" saying he was concerned about me, and asked me to please read Alma 30, as he thought there were parallels in my life. Silly me. I read it. And guess what? There were parallels.

It turns out I'm an anti-Christ. I believe more of what Korihor said than what Alma said.
I shared that with my parents.
Then I went on to tell them that I thought President Monson is a very arrogant man.
AND that trying to live this "gospel" is making me miserable.
I have had TWO bishops tell me that going to church isn't good for me. They told me to stop coming. I had a really hard time listening to them. I felt so guilty...
My dad asked if there was anything about meetings that is good.

"No. Well... sometimes I really like pointing out to people that what they are saying is really wrong... but I don't think that counts, does it?"

Who the hell is this person?

At that moment, food was ready, time to eat. Conversation over. There was more I would have liked to say, but I'm also really glad I didn't:
The two bishops that said, "Don't come," were really good for me. I was dying, and they showed they cared more about me than a stupid church. Unfortunately, Campbell got released and this new guy is just like all of the other stupid drones. Quoting shit at me while never listening to a word (or might I add the spirit).

Paul and BJ have both shared the thought that maybe he was called to be bishop FOR me. I was struggling with doing what was best for me (not going), and once he was called, no more struggle. Easy.

I've never felt good reading the scriptures. There are parts and quotes that I really like, but... a testimony that these things really happened and they were really translated... I don't know. Overall, I've never gotten that warm, fuzzy feeling. The only feeling I have felt is a lessening of guilt, because I was actually doing what I was supposed to be doing.

I find peace when I read things about Buddha, and the ideas expressed there seem more true than what I hear at church. I like the way I feel when I read what Thich Nhat Hanh has to say.

As I was leaving, my mom said, "You are a GOOD person. Don't let anyone tell you you aren't."
Should I have shared with her that I don't believe in good and bad? Probably good that I didn't.

I came home a MESS. Oh dear, what have I done? Stressing 'cause I said too much. Stressing 'cause I didn't say enough. Wondering if I said what I was really feeling or was I just being ruled by emotions. (I'm angry... and I know it.) Will they hate me? Will my mom be sad? Will my dad be mad?

Those last three questions, "Will they hate me? Will my mom be sad? Will my dad be mad?"
Seems those three things still RULE my life. With an iron fist.
I'm a five-year-old little girl terrified to tell them what happened, what I'm thinking, what I'm feeling, etc. because my mom will be sad and my dad will be mad.

I don't want to live like that anymore.
I don't want them to be mad or sad, but... I won't try to control their emotions anymore.

The back and forth inside my head was maddening. I got the sudden and strange idea to listen to Beethoven's 9th Symphony. The first three movements sounded like chaos to me. I cried, because I felt the music pounding in my crazy head. Then it got to the last movement. "Ode to Joy"

"O friends, no more these sounds! Let us sing more cheerful songs, more full of joy!
Thy magic power re-unites
All that custom has divided,
All men become brothers
Under the sway of thy gentle wings.

Whoever has created
An abiding friendship,
All who can call at least one soul theirs,
Join in our song of praise!"

I think my life is currently in the first movement. Its loud and chaotic and... well... messy sounding.
I look forward to getting the 4th movement. FEELING that joy and that peace...
Being ME, no matter what that looks like.

thinking, praying, pondering, reading, studying, wondering, feeling, hoping, yelling, screaming, crying

I'm spending a lot of time thinking, praying, pondering, reading, studying, wondering, feeling, hoping, yelling, screaming, crying... and well... I'm trying to figure out what to do about the church.

I don't go anymore. Its not good for me. But I still can't get away from it.

I'm angry at the things that have been said to me. I'm angry at the things I was taught. I'm angry that when I try to talk about it, people excuse it... tell me I'm the one that has misinterpreted things, I'm the one that is wrong, only... the thing is, I have seen lots of other people "misinterpret" what has been said come to the same damn conclusions I did. Telling me its my problem (and therefore no one else has to take any responsibility) is not okay with me. I have been taking responsibility for a lot of people's shit for a long time, and I just won't do it anymore... even if the person dishing the shit is "called of God".
Like I said, I'm angry.

There are things about the church that have brought me comfort. I don't want to throw those things away. Some of the talks and quotes from church have been helpful. Some of the quotes and talks from other places have been helpful too, but I don't go around thinking that Wyatt Webb speaks for God. Wyatt Webb speaks for Wyatt Webb, and he says some things that ring true for me. I believe in truth. I don't care where it comes from.

I believe in God and miracles. I have seen amazing things happen in my life that I can't explain. I have had strength given to me that was not my own. I feel a connection to the world around me and to some people that I can only describe as a spiritual connection. I have felt guided in ways that again, I just can't explain.

I can see the value in many teachings of the church. Word of Wisdom. Makes sense... especially since I have so many addictions already... But then, my addictions aren't covered in the Word of Wisdom... Fasting is supposed to be a really good thing for the spirit... When they talk about addictions in the church, it usually triggers the hell out of me. They talk about having self-control and not giving in to wants and desires. My addictions have always been about self-denial. Drugs didn't phase me... starving myself was much better.

I don't believe that the church authorities are speaking for God, because then I would be angry at God, and I don't wanna be. I don't believe in a God that says trials are for my own damn good and I should be grateful for them. I don't believe in a God that insists that I take abuse, because that is what Christ did. I don't believe in a God that sits in judgment of me (or anyone else).

I still have a lot of questions, but I no longer believe that I will find answers only if I am obedient to self-serving shitheads.

I'll be true to myself, and that is when I will find answers.

So, what am I trying to say here?
I'm finding what works for me.
I'm taking the things that I like, and leaving the rest behind.
No one is going to like everything that I choose... And I don't want them to.
Choose what works for you. And go with it.

All I can do is be honest with what I think, what I feel, who I am in THIS moment.

Thank God for brilliant friends

I shared my heartbreak.
My worries.
My shame and guilt.
In one sentence, she brought me back to reality.

And just like that, I was calmer.
And I could think better...

She's freaking amazing.
Does she understand that??

some good cynical sarcasm

I found a bunch of quotes by an author named Terry Pratchett. He is a satirist who writes fiction. And I think I agree with him on a lot of things:

"It was so much easier to blame it on Them. It was bleakly depressing to think that They were Us. If it was Them, then nothing was anyone's fault. If it was us, what did that make Me? After all, I'm one of Us. I must be. I've certainly never thought of myself as one of Them. No one ever thinks of themselves as one of Them. We're always one of Us. It's Them that do the bad things."

"I'll be more enthusiastic about encouraging thinking outside the box when there's evidence of any thinking going on inside it."

"It could not be happening because this sort of thing did not happen. Any contradictory evidence could be safely ignored"

"Men should die for lies. But the truth is too precious to die for."

“The presence of those seeking the truth is infinitely to be preferred to the presence of those who think they’ve found it.”

"Give a man a fire and he's warm for the day. But set fire to him and he's warm for the rest of his life."

oh the joy I find in some good cynical sarcasm

perfect record... no more

I have been riding horses for more than two years now.
BJ has often marveled at the fact that I have never fallen, never been thrown, and have never been injured.
Especially with the way I ride. Running whenever I can. All day long. Pushing everyone (Sunny, me, BJ, and Bo) to their absolute limits.

I can no longer say I have never been thrown from a horse.
We were riding up above Kamas, just off the Mirror Lake Highway. There was a stretch of trail just perfect for running in. I let Sunny go first, running FULL speed. It was awesome.
I saw the stream up ahead. Decided I did not want to approach that quite as fast as we were going. I wasn't sure what he'd do.
He'd either:

• Jump it, which was a BIG jump, and I wasn't sure I wanted to do that.
• Run through it, which would have been okay.
• Stop entirely.

Jumping it and stopping take two entirely different postures. I couldn't prepare for both.
I pulled back on the rein to get him to slow down. That put me a little off balance.
He stumbled. I flew over his shoulder, did a flip and landed on my back.
His hoof grazed my face... just enough to give me a black eye and a bloody nose.

I remember the thought as I landed was, "Not so bad," and then, "OH SHIT!"
BJ was far enough behind me that he couldn't see me. He says he heard the air go out of my lungs. And came upon me bloody and gasping for air.He was scared of internal injuries. I couldn't tell him what hurt (other than my face), because I didn't know. I was able to pull myself up onto the horse, but I couldn't keep myself balanced. Every time Bo would start to trot a little faster, I'd see stars again. My hands and feet would go numb, and I thought I was going to pass out.

I am very gifted at not passing out when I feel like I am going to. I kept consciousness and within an hour was telling funny stories. Only I kept forgetting what I was saying. The words got all jumbled. Which made me laugh at myself even more.
There was a part of me that felt really bad for falling. I was worried he wouldn't let me ride anymore. (He had once told me if I ever got hurt, I was done. It turns out, he mean, if I ever got hurt because I was acting out on eating disorder schtuff, I was done.) I felt bad because we ended the ride with a lot of daylight left... which I hate to do.

There was another part of me that was dang proud that I had just fallen off a horse. Kind of like a "badge of honor". What horse person has never gotten hurt by a horse?

Now, I'm totally legit.
And I think I'm healing quite nicely.

some poems don't rhyme

"I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle and end. Life is about knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it without knowing what is going to happen next."
-Gilda Radner.

I really AM still me.

Yesterday, I spent a long time reading old journals. I picked up the "real" ones first.
They were the ones I tried to keep really positive. They were the ones that I was okay with other people reading. Sharing "spiritual" experiences and my testimony, but they weren't my real miracles or my real thoughts.

I spent about thirty minutes reading those, and then I just felt yucky.
I curled up in a ball and cried and felt really bleh.

I promised BJ I wouldn't read any more.
Last night, I broke the promise. I have a journal that was just a bunch of note paper. One day I started writing. I remember being so caught up in lies, that I just wanted a place I could be honest. There are no dates on this journal. No ending to the entries. I just wrote. I thought it was a lot of eating disorder stuff. That was there, but actually there was less of that than in my real journal.

What was there was Jen. Her thoughts. Her feelings. The things she felt about her family, God, church, life. Her guilt. Her sadness. Her anger. And she did a really good job of expressing herself. The journal that I thought was going to be really bad and hard to read wasn't. It was refreshing and felt good to me.

I am thinking about burning the others.
Report cards, daily schedules, presents, and the things I thought I was supposed to think make me a little sick to my stomach.

It turns out I was spunky and opinionated even back then. Everyone tried so hard to domesticate me and make me what they wanted, but it didn't work back then, and it probably never will. This is my favorite entry. I think I was about sixteen or seventeen, but I'm not sure.

"Who knows? Maybe someday I will look back on all this and laugh, but right now I really don't think it will happen.

Why do people say that anyway?

I don't see how stuff that isn't funny now could become hilarious enough for me to laugh about it in fifteen years. Oh well..."

Its been about fifteen years since I wrote it. And the things that made me sad back then, STILL make me sad today. The things that made me angry back then, make me even more angry now.

So, why DO people say that?

let the rumors begin

I understand what the church says about homosexuality. I understand what the bible calls it. I understand that it is supposed to be evil according to God.

What I don't understand is how the government should have any say whatsoever.
What I don't understand is why the church thinks they have any right to define everyone else's rights.
What I don't understand is how if two people can get this whole love/sex/coupleness worked out, why the hell would anyone want to get in the way???
What I don't understand is why anyone would want to get married if they don't have to.

I don't think this decision will affect me... at all... it won't affect all of the people who believe they are losing their rights. It will only affect the people who have wanted to get married (WHY??) and give them a chance to do so. The people who have had the right to get married since marriage existed will still have all the rights...

All I know is if two people get it figured out, I WANT them to have every opportunity. I don't care who they are. I don't care how they got there. I don't care if it was biological, or caused by abuse, or a choice... If they can learn to love and be loved in return, I am very happy for them.

I know what I'm supposed to think, and still... I am glad.

...go me!

Everyday, I learn more about who I am, what I want, where I am going... Everyday, more things fall into place inside my own mind. Everyday, I change.

I've been struggling with trying to figure out how to talk to my landlord. John came in the apartment almost two months ago, and I have kept trying to dismiss it... While at the same time not being able to.

I have been reading meditations from the book, Time to Break Free. I am on day 60, but I randomly turned to day 71.

"Sometimes I feel like I'm competing with other abused women. I may hear or take part in conversations in which women are comparing situations or abusers: "If you think that's bad, listen to this," or, "Your husband may have pushed you around, but mine treated me much worse."

This competition doesn't help anyone. We simply want others to know how much we've been hurt; we want to be heard, and we want compassion. There is a way to feel heard without comparing myself to others. Expressing my feelings about the abuse instead of the details of what happened helps me move forward in my healing process. "When he pushed me, I felt afraid, angry, and alone" is a healing statement. When I learn to speak in this manner, I find that all abused women have shared the same types of feelings. This helps me better understand other people as well as myself."

I have never been one to participate in competition stories. I refused to go to a support group after I divorced Larry, because I didn't want to participate in that. The friends I have chosen to associate with are very similar to me... Constantly dismissing their own stories as "no big deal". When they do it, I have no problem getting angry and upset for them. For me... not so much... But... Reading this, it REALLY hit me. I NEED to be heard. I NEED to be understood. I NEED compassion. There IS a way to be heard without telling "horror" stories.

It doesn't actually matter to ME if John coming in is right, or wrong, or good, or bad, or legal, or whatever... It doesn't matter if he had a good reason... It doesn't matter if he meant harm...

When John came into my apartment, I felt panicked, invaded, scared, and angry.

And the same thing goes for whoever has come into my apartment when I'm not there.

When I go into my apartment and things have been moved, I feel scared, anxious, and unsafe.

HA! I get it. I understand. I might actually be able to do this whole "life" thing.

The last flashbacks you'll ever have

This morning I was feeling ANXIOUS! Flashbacks. Shaky. Nauseous. Yuck!

This afternoon I rode Sunny. Full speed. Around the arena. Gravel flying in BJ's face as Bo tried to keep up. Couldn't think of anything except the feel of the wind in my face and hair. And staying in the saddle. (Which I did!)

Now I feel better.

BJ says we should patten the idea.
Flashbacks start, jump on the horse and ride full speed. The only problem? I've been riding for a long time, and THIS is the first time I have felt confident enough to do it.

But, one way or the other, they'll be the last flashbacks ever...

Moving Along

There is a story of a young, but earnest Zen student who approached his teacher, and asked the Master, "If I work very hard and diligently, how long will it take for me to find Zen?"
The Master thought about this, then replied, "Ten years." 

The student then said, "But what if I work very, very hard and really apply myself to learn fast -- How long then?"
Replied the Master, "Well, twenty years."
"But, if I really, really work at it, how long then?" asked the student.
"Thirty years," replied the Master.
"But, I do not understand," said the disappointed student. "At each time that I say I will work harder, you say it will take me longer. Why do you say that?" 

Replied the Master, "When you have one eye on the goal, you only have one eye on the path."

Its strange, that is how healing from all of the crap is: The harder I work, the farther away I get. The more I just, "let it be," the more it just goes.

A few days ago, I was having a rough time. I asked BJ when it would stop hurting. He replied, "When you come down off the ceiling." (He is referring to the perspective I have in my own flashbacks. It is as if, I am on the ceiling watching it happen. I can't see his face, only his back. Although it FEELS as if its happening to me, it LOOKS as if it is happening to some other person. Strange to try to explain...)

And with that, I was gone. Conscious of the fact that I was screaming, crying, and kicking. Aware that the emotions and pain were so intense, I thought I was going to jump out of my skin. Also aware, that I was going to survive the pain, and this was exactly what I needed to go through.

Waking the Tiger talks about dual consciousness: allowing myself to dissociate, and being aware of what is happening when I do. Experiencing everything that I didn't think I could handle to experience back then.

For a long time, I think I walked around dissociated and in the past for days at a time. Now, it is minutes at a time. I can't keep track of the time I am "out". BJ does. This time, 20-30 minutes. I cried, and then everything was okay. I was relaxed enough to talk, laugh, enjoy life again.

I am grateful. SO grateful for all that is happening in my life.
Its pretty amazing.

Farewell Kloey Dog

Car rides,
Walks,
Wrestling with Justin,
"Kloey, Look!",
greeting Jeff after his mission,
the friendly greetings at the door every time I came over - even after you could barely walk,
for kissing Dann,
for cleaning up all the messes and spills,
for taking care of all of the extra napkins,
for staying home alone with me when everyone else went on vacation,
for all the tricks - sit, beg, shake, dance, wait, and even roll over,
and for keeping Mommy company all day and all night.

Most of all, thank you for picking this moment to leave. If you had gone any earlier, I would have felt so estranged from my family... I might have missed out on loving them through their loss.

I know God has answered prayers through you.
Love you puppy!

Healing Begins

Talking to a friend yesterday. She just had one of "those" sessions.
I wanted to be able to say, You can totally do this. And once you're through, it will be totally amazing. I want to know that, but I don't yet.



The best I can say, is this is where the healing begins. This is where it starts.
And I hope its amazing when we all get to the other side of this.

Observation Point: Conquered!

But not in the way you might think...

I have wanted to hike to Observation Point in Zion National Park for a long time. It is one of the highest points in the whole park. You look down on Angel's Landing, which is the most famous hike in the park. You can see everything from up there. (At least everything in the "Main" Canyon.) I really, REALLY wanted to see that.
The only hike I knew of was 8.6 miles (round trip).Climbing 2500 feet (and then descending again).
A little intense.

I begged Dann to go with me on our last trip. His back said, "No way!" and the rest of him pretty much agreed.

Somehow I stumbled on a blog that had backcountry trails.
Observation Point via the East Rim of Zion. Instead of climbing 2500 feet, its about 200 feet. Instead of 8.6 miles round trip, its 6 miles round trip.

I am so excited that I found a way to see observation point, without killing me (or Dann).

It was UH-MAZE-ING!
The pictures don't even BEGIN to do it justice.

A perfect day!

Left at 9 am.
Rode hard (mostly uphill, running when there was flat ground) for three hours.
Ate lunch sitting in the middle of a water fall. (Maybe you could even call it TWO water falls, but the second will be completely gone in a few more weeks when there isn't as much melting snow.)
Rode hard (ALL uphill, rocky) for a couple more hours.
BJ was in front. Went through a patch of deep snow. I thought he was going to break a leg. (If it had been solid ground and not snow, Bo would have crushed BJ's leg.) He got through it.
I chose to walk Sunny through that snow patch. MAN am I grateful for that horse. Thought I was going to die walking up just that little bit.
BJ and Bo slid down the mountain... He was worried he was going to be stuck at the bottom forever. Both Bo and BJ got up and out, and both were exhausted after the climb.
Sunny and I had to work together on some very rough terrain. I had to trust him. He had to trust me. Best feeling ever! I love that horse!
"Caramel Cob" is a very handy and delicious treat while on the trail. (You don't even have to touch it to eat it. Which was especially nice for BJ, since Bo peed on the lead rope.)
The wind was strong enough to pick up my hat and blow it several feet. BJ saved it from going over the edge of the cliff. Thanks BJ!
We ran. And ran. And ran.
Sunny decided rather than to slow down to go around rocks and branches, or to just walk through a stream, he'd jump OVER them. Exhilarating!
In one jump, I flew out of the saddle. I still don't know how I stayed on the horse. I would love to say it was because I am a great rider, but I know better. Angels were watching over me...
It took us five hours to get up, and two to get down... What a rush!

While on the horses, I was not concerned about the past or the future. I felt peaceful. "However it works out, it will work out." And I really meant it. There will be sadness and/or hard emotions to go through no matter what happens, and I'll go through them. Completely at peace with where my life is and where it is going.

I was totally "in the moment". I noticed so many little details I never would have seen before. Individual leaves and branches and rocks. Lizards, snakes, chipmunks all seemed so amazing and fascinating. Even my sandwich tasted better than a sandwich has ever tasted.

Ended the day so tired, I couldn't think straight... and that's okay, I didn't need to think anymore. I went to sleep. And actually slept!

Undone - FFH

Loving this song. So intense.

The first verse is the one that hit me the most:

Open up wide, swallow down deep
No spoon full of sugar could make it sweet
The cancer inside stealing my sleep
Night after night it keeps haunting me
The secrets I keep
Are tearing me up inside
I try to hide and then I wonder why
Why I’m still running when I know there’s no escaping

I like the rest of it too though:

Come undone, surrender is stronger
I don’t need to be the hero tonight
We all want love we all want honor
Nobody wants to pay the asking price

Fall on my knees, fall on my pride
I’m tripping over all the times I’ve lied
I’m asking please, but I can see in Your eyes
You don’t need tears for alibis
It’s true what they say
Love must be blind
It’s why You’re still standing by this sinner’s side
You’re still by my side when all the things I’ve done have left You bleeding

Chorus

I don’t think I can drive it home tonight
I don’t think I wanna be alone tonight

I want to be ready to be this direct.

Sink or Swim, I'm jumping in.

I'm not quite sure how to describe what is happening... My life... is being guided by a perfect hand... I can't see it. It doesn't seem to fit what I always thought was "right" but... it is.

Two years ago, I told Paul I wasn't "strong enough to do this on my own". I didn't know what I meant. I knew Dann and I needed to separate so I could find me again. I knew our relationship was toxic to both of us. I thought I was talking about how I wasn't strong enough to leave him, because the eating disorder would take over. It might have... but that is not what I meant.

I wasn't strong enough to stand up for what I felt was right. I wasn't strong enough to feel the anger that I needed to feel. I wasn't strong enough to force myself to separate. I wasn't strong enough to lay down any sort of boundaries. I wasn't strong enough to see what work needed to be done. I wasn't strong enough to tell Dann what was hurting me. I wasn't strong enough to see how much the crap from my past was effecting me.

I couldn't make good choices, because I didn't allow myself a choice. There were so many "have-to's". So, I went inpatient.

I was so blessed to have the protection of CFC to get me going. Then I had the protection of BJ to continue healing. Then I had the apartment and Bishop Campbell.

And finally, two years later, I have done enough work to get to the starting place...

Marty told BJ that the process of healing is the same process whether you choose to stay together or divorce. That makes so much sense. But I couldn't even begin this process until I found me... I'm closer than I have ever been.

I told Dann that I wanted to hang out today, but I wanted to be home before 8:00... I felt like I needed to limit the time I spent with him. That time was a bit arbitrary, but I picked it because it felt good enough.

Dann asked if that was flexible.

I felt violated. I felt so guilty for even proposing the boundary. I felt like he didn't listen to me. I felt... CRAZY! I understand that my reaction was a little overdone and dramatic. I am so not used to standing up for what I want. Even expressing it. That I honestly feel like I have done something horrible... His questions made it feel even worse, because I wasn't sure if I was being unreasonable with my request. I found myself thinking I should make it up to him for even THINKING about wanting to go home before he wanted me to...

This is going to be a lot harder than I thought...

And, yet... I can do this. I wasn't strong enough two years ago. I am strong enough now.

I don't want to hear the "crazy voice" come from me ever again. (The one where I start saying things like, "If I am just nice enough." "Its ok. He didn't mean to hurt me." "I'll be stronger, and I'll learn how to just take it.")

I will do what it takes to change me.

Much better

Its a funny thing... Trying to change EVERY dang thing in my brain... The little things that seem to come so easily for others make me crazy.

My friend, Lauren, has invited me to her house a million times. I have gone a few times. I HATE being there with her husband. I just don't like the man. I don't like the way I feel with him. He looks and acts like Larry. And when I couldn't find anger for Larry, I beat a couch cushion thinking of Brett. I knew she knew all that, but I STILL didn't feel like I could say that to her.

I didn't want to put her in an awkward position. I didn't want her to feel bad about asking me. So many other worries... I never said what I wanted.

Last night, she invited me again.
"I'd love to, but not while Brett's there."

Simple enough response. It came out of my mouth before I even thought about it. What I wanted. Absolute truth about what I was feeling at that moment.

It felt so good. I realized how different I am from LAST WEEK talking to Lauren. I couldn't do that a week ago. And last night, I did it as if it was just part of me. Just who I was. No questions or doubts before I said it. No guilt after I said it. Just me.

Lauren didn't die. She laughed and said she felt the same way. She even congratulated me for saying what I wanted. Her response was perfect, but it really wouldn't have mattered either way. I am finally standing up for me.

And its not nearly as hard as it used to be.

If they jumped off a bridge...

From the book, Too Nice for Your Own Good:

"As nice people we have failed to distinguish between being aggressive and being assertive. Seeing the difference between them can free us to tell others what we want. Look at how these two forms of expression differ:

To be aggressive is to dominate people and take away their rightful power.
To be assertive is to express your wants and leave their power intact.

To be aggressive is to affirm only your own wants and worth.
To be assertive is to affirm the worth of both others and yourself.

To be aggressive is selfish.
To be assertive expresses a healthy self-love.

We assert ourselves when we respectfully ask something of others that’s appropriate. Rather than aggressively imposing our needs on them and turning them off, our assertiveness makes them feel needed and they find satisfaction in responding.

The freedom to express your desires to others will come only with your decision to live by them. Are you willing to love yourself? Be fully present to those you care about? Assert yourself in a respectful way?

In asserting yourself, whether you want people to stop or start doing something, you need to be positive, specific and direct, rather than negative, indirect, manipulative or moralistic.

Such compelling assertions, because they are clear, honest, and respectful, tend to make others want to give you what you want, desire and deserve. On the other hand, if you’re negative, you create negative responses; if you’re indirect, you burden others with explaining themselves; if you’re manipulative, you make them resentful and resistant; if you’re moralistic, you force them to act out of guilt. Here are examples of healthy assertiveness followed by examples of how unhealthy communications sound:

I’d like you to pick up your toys.

Not,
Don’t leave your toys lying around. (Negative)
Not,
Why don’t you pick up your toys? (Negative and indirect)
Not,
You shouldn’t leave your toys lying around. (Negative and moralistic)
Not,
Nice kids don’t leave their toys lying around. (Negative, indirect and manipulative)

I’d like you to bring me flowers.

Not,
Don’t forget to bring me flowers. (Negative)
Not,
Why don’t you bring me flowers anymore? (Negative, indirect)
Not,
You ought to bring me flowers now and then. (Moralistic)
Not,
Nice spouses don’t forget to bring their wife flowers. (Negative, indirect, manipulative)"

After reading this a few weeks ago, I have paid a lot of attention to the way people talk to each other. Especially my family... Almost everything they say to each other is aggressive according to this book's definition.

I have felt frustrated with them for ages... but I couldn't tell you why.
I have felt angry at the way Dann talks to me, but I thought I was just being crazy.

It turns out all of us have learned to communicate in some really ucky ways. At CFC the first time, I learned how to be assertive, but... even then... I didn't want to make people feel the way I felt... And I really didn't know what I was doing. So, I pulled back.

I'm done pulling back to make others happy.
I want to be assertive. I want to take care of me. I don't want to hurt others with aggressive communication. How do I even begin?? If EVERYONE does it, how do I be different? How do I tell people its not okay to talk to me that way?

Attending Angels

Its been a tough weekend... I know I might want to write about that more later, but for now...
I went looking for comfort. President Uchdorf is usually pretty good at that.
Here is what he had for me today:

"There are those among you who, although young, have already suffered a full measure of grief and sorrow. My heart is filled with compassion and love for you. How dear you are to the Church. How beloved you are of your Heavenly Father. Though it may seem that you are alone, angels attend you. Though you may feel that no one can understand the depth of your despair, our Savior, Jesus Christ, understands. He suffered more than we can possibly imagine, and He did it for us; He did it for you. You are not alone."

Thank you. My heart hurts. I feel so alone sometimes. I know you're right though, angels attend me. Everyday. Thank you.

Finally

Abuse.
I didn't know how damaging it was until I listened to BJ talk. I heard the insanity in his voice, his words, but the part that was most horrifying: I heard it in his heart and soul.

It felt like I had been slapped in the face.
I was looking in a mirror. I didn't like what I saw. Not at all. I don't want to be that person. I don't want to be the person that takes it, and thinks its my fault. I don't want to be the person that thinks she can fix it if she is just nice enough, understanding enough, kind enough, strong enough, good enough...

The anger I felt for Ginger? I think finally I am seeing how a healthy person would feel towards abuse. For the first time EVER I have no attachment to the abuser. I felt pure anger. Its not that I wanted to hurt her. Or break things. Or anything violent. I just wanted the abuse to stop.

For the first time EVER, I didn't think about how she felt, or tried to understand why she was hurting him, or... I just felt angry.

With my dad, I could see WHY. I knew it wasn't right, but I couldn't see any other option. He was supposed to teach Jeff. He was supposed to show him the right way. And if Jeff refused to listen... what else could he do?

With Jeff, my dad was mean. It made sense he would be mean to Zack, or my mom, or even me sometimes. It wasn't his fault. I didn't like it. I HATED it, but what else could he do?

With Johnny, with Larry, with Dann, with Amy, with Katie, with people at school, with Brother Sackett, with my family, with the boys at the group home, all of them... what else could they do?

I don't know. I don't know what they could have done.
And it doesn't even matter.

Today, I am angry.
Not at me. For the first time in forever, not at me.

Finally. Not at me.

To Dare

To laugh is to risk appearing the fool.
To weep is to risk appearing sentimental.
To reach for another is to risk involvement.
To expose your ideas, your dreams,
before a crowd is to risk their loss.
To love is to risk not being loved in return.
To live is to risk dying.
To believe is to risk failure.
But risks must be taken,
because the greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing.
They may avoid suffering and sorrow,
but they cannot learn, feel, change, grow, love, live.
Chained by their attitudes, they are slaves;
they have forfeited their freedom.

Only a person who risks is free.

Author Unknown

April Showers

I hate showers. Especially the kind that involve women. Celebrating weddings. Or babies.

Today, I had not just one, but TWO!

...anxiety... through the roof...
In the car, my sister decided to talk about her debate class... someone said something about, "You can't be raped when you're married." She did amazing on the debate, because she felt so strongly that NO means NO! Even when you're married.

And suddenly, the three of us: mom, sis, and I were talking TOTALLY openly about everything. I would list the topics, but well... I don't wanna... I will say I talked about things I have never talked about outside of my CFC circle.

I was not quiet. I was not meek. I was not kind. I was ME in all my glory... And nobody shat in their pants... (At least that I know of.)

I survived the showers. I don't think I would have if I hadn't had the open talks before hand. I probably would have lost my mind... in ways most unbecoming...

Mel even said she LIKED opinionated Jen. Whoda thunkit?

To the one I never met,

Talking to Steph tonight. She told me about Kendall's goodbye. Kendall was Brie's little girl. She died before she ever lived. Kind of like you.

Like you, Kendall saved Brie's life. Brie was lost in her eating disorder. Somehow Kendall's short stay showed Brie the way back. Finally, Brie is alive... in a way her family has never seen before.
I thought of you. I was not lost in an eating disorder, but I was lost. I was going through all the motions, but not living. I was not excited for your life, nor grieved when it ended. I was too numb to feel either emotion.

The day I found out I was going to miscarry, I knew deep down inside this needed to happen. Dann and I needed to go through the experience of losing you. I couldn't explain it better than that.

I knew that our home was no place for a child. I knew it would not be safe for you. I didn't understand how much needed to change until I thought of bringing you into the world. From then on, I wanted to make my body healthier. I wanted to make my mind healthier. I wanted to make my relationship with Dann healthier.

I wanted to know you would have been safe if you had lived.

Thank you for coming into my life. Thank you for sacrificing your life so I could find mine. Thank you for sacrificing your life, so Dann could find himself. Thank you for coming and changing everything.

Thank you for saving me.

I don't know who I will become next. I don't know if I will ever be a mother to anyone but you.
My heart aches because I never knew you. I have tried to console myself with the thought that there wasn't really a child there. Only tonight, listening to Steph talk about Brie and Kendall, I knew differently.

I am sorry I wasn't ready to receive you. I am sorry I didn't know how to take better care of myself. I am sorry I didn't nurture you. I am sorry I didn't want you to come to our home.

I want to ask for your forgiveness, but I don't think I deserve it. I still don't want to be a mother. I still don't want to put my body through that. I still don't want you to come to my home.

For now, I am grateful for you. My life is forever different because of you.
Thank you,

your
would-have-been
mother

A little nervous

So, last week, I made this blog public... However, I purposely made it so family or friends couldn't find it by searching me.

My sister asked if she could read it. Since I actually started this whole thing as a way to share myself a little more, and I REALLY want my family to know me... I said yes.

I am tempted to go and delete a bunch of entries. I am tempted to change it so she only sees the fun, happy, smiling posts... but that would defeat the purpose.

So, here goes nothing.
Here's to letting people into my life. Here's to seeing if I am lovable as I am. Here's to a lot of worries and a lot of fears that probably have no basis in reality.

...here's to "feeling the fear and doing it anyway..."

Don't know where I found it, but I like it

I've made mistakes in my life.
I've let people take advantage of me,
and I accepted way less than I deserve.
But I've learned from my bad choices,
and even though there are some things I can never get back.
People who will never be sorry.
I'll know better next time.
I won't settle for anything less than I deserve.

Only Fifteen??

Rules: Don't take too long to think about it. Fifteen books you've read that will always stick with you. First fifteen you can recall in no more than 15 minutes. (Seriously, it only took like 15 seconds...)

These are in the order they came to me, not a ranking.

1. Living Without Regret
2. Tao of Equus
3. The Horse Boy
4. Prayers that Bring Miracles
5. Think and Grow Rich
6. Willpower is Not Enough
7. The Freedom Factor
8. Founding Fathers on Leadership (I also liked Martin Luther King Jr. on Leadership and Lincoln on Leadership, but Founding Fathers was my favorite.)
9. Bonds that Make us Free
10. Leadership and Self-Deception
11. Launching a Leadership Revolution
12. I Had Trouble in Getting to Solla-Sollew
13. Intuitive Eating
14. The Giver
15. It's Not About the Horse
16. Waking the Tiger

I tried to limit it to fifteen... I just couldn't... But I was close. :)
Although there are several others that are wandering around in my brain and want my attention...

1. Feel the Fear and Do It Anyways
2. The Four Agreements
3. Shame and Grace
4. Stroke of Insight
5. Book of Heroes
6. I feel like I should put the Bible and the Book of Mormon...
7. You are Special
8. The Sexual Healing Journey
9. Lord of the Flies (It will stick with me forever, even though I sure wish it wouldn't!)
10. Calico Captive (The first historical fiction book I ever read. I loved it back then!!)
11. The Devil's Arithmetic (This book got me hooked on learning about WWII)
12. The Lottery Rose
13. Courage to Heal
14. The Great Brain books
15. The Work and the Glory books
16. Harry Potter books
17. Five Love Languages (and Five Languages of Apology)
    
18. The Future Diary
19. Power of Passion (a story about climbing Mount Everest)
20. Screwtape Letters
21. Hope for the Flowers
22. Terry Fox: His story

That's all... for now...

What a great day!

65 degrees...horses...deer...baby elk
good talks...great company...good food
great views
running through the mountains

Seriously... a great day!

I could get used to this

Sunday... instead of church...
World Championship Chariot Races

22.41 seconds... quarter mile race... horses running ALL OUT

people winning or losing a lot of money
(depending who wins)

...so cool!!!

Loves

horses... I love being with them. Watching them. Riding them. Learning about them.
being outdoors... mountains. valleys. neighborhoods. parks. beaches. lakes. streams. deserts. sunsets. sunrises. rain. snow. sunshine. wind. all of it.
walking... feeling my body move. seeing new things. hearing new sounds. thinking uninterrupted. the smell of others' laundry drying.
heart-to-heart talks...
my cat... she cuddles up and i feel loved without fear
exploring... learning new things. trying new skills. seeing new places. asking questions. pushing boundaries, even my own. reading about everything.
puddles... splashing in them. watching others splash them. cars splashing. the sound of the horses feet splashing in them.
jewelry... matching it with my wardrobe. finding cool new things. wearing it.
laughing... funny movies. inside jokes. sarcasm. cleverness.
diet coke with limes in it. caffeine-free variety, 'cause i don't like the shakiness.
salmon tacos.
barbacoa salads.
pizza factory breadsticks.
samoas cookies.
girl scout cookie thin mint ice cream. the REAL stuff! NOT the slow-churned variety.
popcorn popped in the stir-crazy popper.
new boxes of cereal.
smell of clean clothes.
hugs from good friends.
starting new projects.
music... playing it. listening to it. writing it. singing it. dancing to it.
getting warm... warm blankets. sticking my feet in the warm oven. standing by a campfire.
writing... my blog. journals. stories. thoughts.
art... drawing. photographing. designing. being messy and imperfect about it.
fresh fruit... strawberries. peaches. pineapple. crisp apples.
prayers... seeing the answers. the miracles. finding understanding.

Sarah Shelf Sitter

So, I was looking for a doll to use with my (overly depressing) analogy...

And I found this one.

While I didn't really think she fit what I was trying to portray, I couldn't help but LOVE her!!!

She can be purchased online here.

Seriously... I love her!

The doll

She sits on the shelf in her pretty dress with a smile on her face.

Sometimes he takes her down and plays with her. He takes her with him when he goes in the mountains or to the horses. She loves that. It makes her so happy. At the end of the day, he always puts her back on her shelf.

Sometimes he takes her down and takes her to softball games or puts her next to him while he watches TV. She would like more, but she is grateful she is no longer on the shelf.

Others occasionally take her down, play with her, talk to her, ask her to play the piano or help them, and she is glad she is loved.

She hates sitting on the shelf. She wants nothing more than to climb down. By herself.

Dance.
Laugh.
Be like the people she sees.

No matter how hard she tries, she can't. So she waits. And waits.
For someone else to love her.

She worries that the day will come when everyone forgets, and she stays on the shelf forever.

Getting Political

People say President Obama is making history today. Some people say this change has needed to come for so long. Some people are saying this is the end of the constitution.

I don't know enough to really form an opinion. I don't like the idea of the government taking control of anything more than is absolutely necessary.

Social Security has helped a lot of people. Still, there isn't money to continue making the social security payments they have been making... So, now the government is going to try to give everyone healthcare? It just sounds fishy to me.

I happen to be one of the people that can't get insurance under the current system. I have been "uninsurable" for most of my life. There was a short period of time that I could get private insurance. They asked for $800/month, and they didn't cover the few expenses I had. It wasn't worth paying for, so we canceled it. Since then, I have been denied insurance again.

Both Dann and I work for small companies that won't (or can't) pay for insurance.
President Obama thinks he can take care of me. At what cost? Will it really help me? If they require me to buy health insurance, but don't change the exploitative nature of the health insurance companies, that will only hurt me and help the big corporations.

I love the idea of everyone helping everyone. I love the idea of all of us taking care of each other. I love the idea of everyone giving what they can (which means that some will have more to give than others). I hate the idea of forcing people to do anything. I hate the idea of anyone telling me I have to take care of others. I hate the idea of anyone telling others they have to take care of me.

Have we become so stupid, so selfish, so lost that we require the government to tell us how to take care of ourselves and everyone else?

I would like to read the bill. I would like to know what changes will really be happening. I would like to know how this will really effect people like me. People like my CFC friends. People like the consumers at CUCIL. People like my parents and grandparents. The people in control of the government today. The people who will take control in the future.

Since the thing is more than a thousand pages of legal-sounding-mumbo-jumbo, I doubt I will ever take the time. I guess I will just wait and see how it is going to effect me and everyone else.

You aren't going to actually teach that shit are you?

Poor BJ, teaches the 12-year-old boys at church. He was trying to figure out how to teach the lesson on Sunday... Its title? Spirituality, but what it says... pisses me off. BJ just wanted to know how he could teach this without completely decimating Parker (a young man with an eating disorder).

"The intent of this lesson is to help each young man understand that part of spirituality is maintaining a proper relationship between the spirit and the body."

(A proper relationship?? Try a fucked up relationship... but whatever...)

This quiz should lead the young men from obvious to more reflective thought about their self-control.

Can you make your body walk?
Can you make your body laugh or cry anytime you want to?
Can you make your body get out of bed early in the morning?
Can you make your body go without food and drink for at least two meals?
AT LEAST TWO MEALS?!? Are you kidding me? BJ, if you say that to Parker, or any of those boys, I might hunt you down...
Can you make your body kneel to pray and read the scriptures daily?
Can you keep your body from reacting to evil thoughts?
Whose definition of evil? I am pretty DAMN sure I have spent my life trying to not be evil, and really?!? At this point, I think I would prefer to be evil than to be what I have been...
Can you make your body respond properly to anger, greed, hate, jealousy, envy, and pride?
So, what is proper? I was taught not to show those emotions EVER. By the people at church, and by my parents who went to church... Seriously. GAH!
President David O. McKay defined spirituality as “the consciousness of victory over self, and of communion with the Infinite” (Gospel Ideals [Salt Lake City: Improvement Era, 1953], p. 390).

Spirituality is our spirit directing our flesh, under the guidance of the Holy Ghost.
I'll accept this definition...

“If the spirit yields to the body, the Devil then has power to overcome the body and spirit of that man, and he loses both.
Recollect … every one of you, that when evil is suggested to you, when it arises in your hearts, it is through the [body]. When you are tempted, buffeted, and step out of the way … ; when you are overtaken in a fault, or commit an overt act unthinkingly; when you are full of evil passion, and wish to yield to it, then stop and let the spirit, which God has put into your [bodies], take the lead. If you do that, I will promise that you will overcome all evil, and obtain eternal lives. But many, very many, let the spirit yield to the body, and are overcome and destroyed” (Discourses of Brigham Young, comp. John A. Widtsoe [Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Co., 1954], p. 70).

I'd like to point out that any time we feel the spirit, it is also in the body... I know, whoda thunk it?? The body IS useful for something.

• What can you do to help your spirit gain more control over your body?
• Why is it important to seek the Lord’s help in gaining this control?
• How has the Lord helped you gain better control over the flesh?

I don't like these questions. And this whole quote? Sounds like shit to me... Sounds like a stupid man that doesn't understand the body or the spirit or anything... But thinks he does... and we listen to this crap??

Maybe when I have calmed down, I will write something less angry, but poignant... so someone will stop teaching this crap!!!!

Even those that are really deep.

Celebrating a friend's birthday. Eating at Tucano's. Who would be in line behind us?

Richard G. Scott

The man whose talks on abuse have been like my bible... The man whose words I have lived by whenever things have been too hard to think... One of the few men in leadership of the church that I believe understands what I am going through, and who I trust... One of the few people on BJ's list of approved people for me to listen to...

As soon as I saw him, I started to cry. I gave him my best radiant smile through the tears... And I sat down. I told Dann who he was. I sat at the table, shaking, crying, trying to look okay, but I just wanted to talk to him.

I wasn't sure what to say. I knew I wouldn't really have a chance to talk, but I wanted him to know how grateful I was.

Other people started noticing it was him. Several others went and took pictures with him. I didn't want to be obnoxious like that. Chris and Emily went and talked to him. Kyle and Karli went and talked to him. Dann and Jen sat there...

Until suddenly Jen was walking towards him. Dann followed me, and just as I was about to chicken out, Dann smiled at him and caught his attention. "This is my wife, and she would like to talk to you for a second."

I just wanted to thank you for your talks on abuse. They have really helped me.

He smiled, he has very kind eyes, and said, "The amazing thing about the atonement is that it truly will heal EVERY scar. Even those that are really deep. Trust that."

At this point, I was no longer breathing. Eyes were too teary to see. He smiled again, touched my hand, and moved on. Dann and I left the restaurant, and I sobbed. The sobs that come from deep inside. Dann asked what I was thinking.

I don't know. No thoughts. Just deep emotions. Very deep. Hurts. Fears.

Hope.

It was amazing that HE was there. Not any of the others that I don't really care about. Just him. At Tucano's... Which is not a place we would go to normally... I am glad I stepped out of my comfort zone. I am glad I talked to him. Not something I would have done before:

• Admitting that I have been abused to a complete stranger.
• Talking to someone that is "famous" but that I don't know. Even with the feeling that I am annoying, and he doesn't want to hear me, and... all of that... I still talked.

Not what I expected from going to Tucano's... but when is life ever what I expect?

He has given many talks. Several on the same topic.
To me, PERSONALLY, he said, I can be healed. I can trust.

I heard him tell ME that I could be healed.

Not Gonna Do It

Dann plays church ball. Its a rather ridiculous sport, but... he enjoys it.

His team was in the Stake tournament. (They actually won, but that is not the point of this entry.) I don't enjoy watching a bunch of anal-retentive, self-righteous, angry men play ball, so I don't usually go to the games. However, for the Tournament, I wanted to be there to support Dann. (He is not one of the anal-retentive, self-righteous, angry men... He is a calm one there...)

Dann's team was winning, which made the other team play very dirty. With just a couple minutes left in the game they were intentionally trying to foul... So, one guy PUNCHED a guy on Dann's team. (I felt freaked out, but remained sitting in my chair. There was no running away or screaming even though I thought about it.) Dann yelled at the puncher, and then at the ref for not even calling the foul.

Honestly, Dann getting angry or upset is very hard for me. I am immediately back to really scary times. I don't like it. I wasn't upset at him though... Anxious. Nervous. Crazy in my head. Just not at him.

Another guy started telling Dann to "Chill Out."
Something in my mind snapped... Couldn't understand why or what... I just... sat there, because I didn't understand what I was feeling.

Today, I was telling BJ about it. I got to the part where the dude said, "Chill out."

And my story changed. I started yelling.

"Shut the fuck up! Did you not see what just happened? People don't chill out when there are people punching other people!!! Chilling out would be an unnatural stupid reaction! You stupid, stupid man..."

I was not okay with someone calmly telling (me) to chill out when things are WRONG.
I WON'T! I WON'T! I WON'T! Even though, I did...

Sometimes you have to yell. Sometimes you have to make a fuss. Sometimes people need to understand that its not okay!

I wish I had yelled at the dude.
But then again, I am absolutely terrified of anger... especially my own...

breakin da laa

Across the street from me is a sign, "Lose a half a pound or more a day!" At least twice a day, I look at it and it annoys me. Last night, K made a comment about it.

I told her I had thought about stealing it before. And then... she did it!

I think about it. I don't do it.
Only now, I have the evidence in the trunk of my car...

Best Medicine Ever

Lately, my life has been completely consumed with the past... trauma... problems... crap... Nightmares... and "stuff" and... anyways, my insides have been tied in all sorts of knots.

Tonight we went to Justin's play, The Complete Works of Wllm Shkspr. So much fun. Laughed the whole time. Loved it!

It was the deep down kind of laugh...
Not the "I am supposed to laugh and smile."
Nor the, "I am nervous, so I am laughing."
But the "I can't help but laugh, because this is funny, and I am completely caught up in the funniness."

So all those knots? Gone. I can breath. I can think.
I'm smiling just because I feel like smiling.

Marathon Session

Paul...

His first question, "Have you slept at all since I saw you last?"
Yes... of course I have slept since I saw you last, but not a whole lot... And even when I do, its so... I mean, I sweat more in my sleep than I ever did as an over-exerciser.

Then he did the unthinkable. Sometimes he can just be so CRUEL. He told me to lay down and get comfortable.

Who's comfortable? Yours or mine?? He thinks comfortable is sprawling out on the couch. I think comfortable is curling up in a ball and hugging a pillow. He let me get MY comfortable.

He's been reading Waking the Tiger. The assignment from the book I never did? Because it freaked me out so DAMN MUCH!?! He asked those questions, "How do you know THIS is comfortable?" "What do you feel in your body?" and (not from the book), "Why are you crying?"

I don't know why I'm crying... except that I feel like crying... welcome to laying down with Jen... I wish I could remember his other questions, because they were so much better than they used to be. They got me to that incredibly yucky, overwhelming, need to go there, DON'T WANNA, place.

I was both confused and cognizant at the same time. At moments, I was crying, "NO!" and then the next moment explaining to him what was happening. When he asked questions about things that weren't related, I could tell him he was going in the wrong direction... however, I couldn't tell him what he should be asking... but I could tell him that I couldn't tell him what he should be asking... Poor Paul... Its a wonder he doesn't go insane.

Eventually, everything in me started to shake and I sobbed, "I want them to hurt. Sometimes everyone. Sometimes specific people. I want them to hurt like I hurt. I want them to feel what it feels like to have your whole world ripped apart. I want them to know how it feels to be physically split apart because he forces himself where he shouldn't go. I want them to know what it feels like to go through all of that in their home with a person that is supposed to love and protect them. I want them to know what it feels like to feel that terror. I want them to hurt: physically, emotionally, mentally. I want all of those people who's worst trials are whether or not they will pass math to KNOW what I feel. I want all of those people that judge me for not doing what they think I should to UNDERSTAND like I understand..."

He cried. Paul cried! He told me that it was not only okay that I feel all those things, but it is natural. And although I may want to show them by putting them through that, I don't have to. My words just might help them understand. I put it it well enough for him to understand.

And then we talked about the Anger I feel, but can't feel all at the same time... and the fear of that Anger. And I don't want to be that person... and I don't know how to not be... I am so hurt and so angry, and I don't want to hurt anyone, but I do... and...

He said it made sense that I would feel that so black and white. I am either the Victim or the Rapist. He promised there was an in-between. A "Righteous Indignation" that would be where God really is.

He gave me the assignment to look up scriptures and resources on "Righteous Indignation". Find information on when its okay to stand up for yourself.

Does that even exist? I told him I had never looked up that term, but I had looked up "Women's Rights" on the church's website, and I only found a bunch of trash. Stuff like, "Stop talking about women's rights and talk about responsibilities and opportunities." It even included the "opportunity" to give sex when you didn't want to. And serve your spouse. And the "right to say no is not as important as the opportunity to say yes."

He told me that one day he saw me teaching people. There is an avalanche of "stuff" being taught that God lets his people teach, because there is some good, but there is also a lot that needs to be changed and "tempered". I have a special ability to do that.

I confused him by smiling. If I had not been raised in the home I was raised in; If I did not have to learn how to "mediate" to protect my brother; I would not be able to to talk with the calm that I do now. There is a lot of emotion that I need to feel. (I need to NOT be the calm mediator that lacks emotions just so people will listen. I NEED TO YELL AND SHOUT AND SCREAM!) Still... I do have an ability to speak so others can listen. I would not have that if I had not HAD to have that when I was very young.

I had one of those "see-the-big-picture-and-all-that-I-can-do-because-of-the-crap" moments. I don't think for a second God wanted me to be hurt, but He did know me well enough to know who I could become because of it.

Not sure if its possible to feel COMPLETELY wiped out, and energized at the same time, but I do.

I'm stuck in the past...

Because my brain is currently in the year 2000... I went looking for pictures. I don't have many. But here is what I have:

Henrietta the Hedgehog.

She got put to sleep in March 2000. I didn't even care enough to cry or be angry. I am now.

I'm overly made-up and with big hair... But this is me January 2000.

Santa Larry... He dressed up and went to his sister's house. (Christmas 1999)

My friend was trying to get a degree in photography. She asked us to come play models for her.

This was right after Larry and I got married. The whole family went on a trip to Washington D.C. I wanted to go there so bad, but the trip was hell. This is my brother, Zack, and my cousin, Ruth.

Another picture playing model...

Us with my old roommates in Spring 2000.

A dinner with Laurie (the orchestra teacher that saved my life). I worked as her assistant and planned the high school music department tour. We went to Las Vegas. Larry loved this picture of me. He said he couldn't wait for us to have kids... He knew we would make beautiful children. I was good looking, so was he... blah!

I don't know WHY I felt it so necessary to find and share these pictures. I just DID. So I am. I look happy in all of them. Why is it that when I look back I don't feel happy...

I KNOW what was happening to the person in these pictures. It wasn't good. I guess I hoped to see some evidence that what I am going through and feeling now is justified. I mean if I could see misery or heartache in my eyes, then it would make sense to be hurting now, right?

But I can't see it. I look fine. Which makes me want to scream.