I started this project, this blog, as a personal project, it's written for me, mostly I'm doing this because January is a very dark month for me, and I was hoping that if I could find something "TO DO" with my time, it would keep me from dwelling.
So with that in mind, here is a letter, to an unnamed someone, it probably shows too much, says to much and shares too much, but tonight, I need the distraction and I need to feel like it could possibly be read by the person it's intended for, even if I'm fairly positive that it wont be.
Nine years ago I had one of those moments in life where you see yourself from outside yourself, one of those experiences where you know your life has changed, and what has changed is permanent. I experienced this again when my daughter was born in 2004, a moment of realization that "What you thought you knew" was forever going to be altered by this experience.
What happened that night nine years ago yesterday, was that I was held down and raped in my own bed by someone I trusted, a man/boy who was up until that moment, my best friend in the whole wide world.
Those words hurt to write, they make my skin itch and crawl, not because I have post traumatic stress problems, or because I'll never be ok, or because I'm a "Victim" but because while it was a defining moment for me, that moment, that event, does not define me. What makes my skin crawl is the fear that saying those words (or in this case typing them) will change how you look at me, and I don't want that.
The experience itself is something I've healed from in a great many ways, I have moved on beyond what I would have thought possible. But it is hard, to let an anniversary like that pass by without acknowledging it, that event shaped a lot of events that followed, in a great many ways, it made me who I am. How I've dealt with it, who I am, were changed by that event. But I am NOT a rape victim, and I'm not a "survivor" if you are, and that's how you choose to phrase it, I support you in that, but those words are not for me. I am simply me, and this is a fact of being me.
I get dark and down and moody this time of year. And a large part of the reason for that is that event.
I mourn the loss of that best friend, that betrayal, and in many ways a loss of innocence in some fashion.
Five years ago, I lost a baby in January, this also weighs heavily on my mind right now. It's just a very dark month for me. And every year I say "but more so this year than most because **insert reason here**" but the ironic thing is, when I look back on my journals, on my emails, or my letters to friends, every year I say "this year is worse than most because..." so really, I don't think this one is all that different. I'm moody and reflective and not at my best and for that I am sorry.
Please though don't treat me any differently because I've told you this, I didn't tell you this to illicit sympathy or pity, I just wanted you to know, that I'm a little off my game right now, and it's not you, it's me.
I give myself permission to feel like that for this one month of the year, and honestly, the rest of the year it doesn't often cross my mind, I go weeks sometimes without it coming to mind, and that is also progress, but this time of year is where I allow myself to just.deal and just.keep.dealing with it. Life is a process, LIVING is a process.
So now you know, a little more about me, about why this isn't a good month for me, and why I seem a little down, I hope that knowing this about me doesn't change how you look at me.