a broken heart that must keep going

There is a difference between corporate grief and personal grief.  Though I am burdened and grieved one thing is different right now.  Though suicidal thoughts are swirling in my brain, and have been for a while now, in the midst of corporate grief and huge tragedy, I don't want my family to hurt the way that the families of these precious slaughtered children hurt.  My baby has been regularly breaking into tears telling me he is sad but doesn't know why.  I don't want to give him a reason to be sad.  My sweet, sweet family.  They need me, though I don't exactly always understand why. 

I'm emotionally exhausted.  News of another shooting didn't help that exhaustion.  My sweet boys.  I went into my youngest son's class at school yesterday, even though he was home sick.  I hugged his little friends and his teacher.  I thanked God that they were all safe.  I cried.  I won't watch the news.  I have taken a break from Facebook.  My heart was already full and about to burst.  Now I want nothing more than to hide under my blankets and never ever come out.

For the record, I've had more wine than usual tonight.  It was completely intentional.  I'm feeling tipsy.  I don't even care that I am.  I'm hoping the wine will kill the dreams of terror that have been haunting me.  I'm hoping the wine will mean I can sleep through the night tonight.  I'm hoping for a few short hours that the wine will erase the hurt I feel.  I'm heading to bed now.  Sorry if I've been spastic, I don't usually write when I'm feeling unsure of my brain.  I just tonight needed a safe place to say my broken heart is really heavy.

yeah, I'm crazy

Would you think I was crazy if I told you there is a area at my work that scares me?  No, not the lunchroom, though that scares me for totally unrelated reasons that I have already covered here!  There is a place that I walk by and it brings back memories of attack. 

When I walk by it the anxiety feels visible.  If I'm playing it as well as I hope I am, no one can see the anxiety that I feel drips off of me like wax off a candle.  But I feel it.  I feel trapped when I'm near that area.  I feel scared when I'm near that area.  I feel not in control when I'm near that area.  I want to run, hard and fast.

Remember when I said something was on the edge of my consciousness that would have to be dealt with?  It started with a friend tagging her friend in a Facebook post.  There was his name right in front of my face.  The name I haven't heard in many years.  It wasn't him, someone by the same name with a slightly different spelling.  But it was enough. 

A few days later I walked past this area at work and my palms got sweaty, my heart started racing and the tears threatened behind my eyes.  Suddenly I was there again, being held down, clothes being ripped, my body being groped.  My mind tried to tell my body that I wasn't really back there but it was too late, my body was already reacting.

 Logic wasn't enough to convince my heart rate to come back to normal.  Knowing he wasn't there, that I wasn't in danger, that I wasn't about to be hurt wasn't enough.  And in my head right now I hear the article I read recently written by a counselor about PTSD, about how the body reacts no matter what the logic says. 

I just walked by the "scary spot" when I was getting my lunch.  I wanted to sprint again.  I wanted to hide.  I wanted to get away.  So I sit here eating my lunch and blogging so that my heart rate will return to normal, my voice won't shake and my palms won't sweat so that I can get back to doing my job in a few minutes. 

Silly really, that I react to something so simple.  How I wish I were normal enough to not freak out at work over things that in reality don't still have the power to hurt me. 

life continues

I'm ok.  I'm hanging in there.  I didn't eat much or sleep much this past weekend.  The helicoptors were flying right over my house while they were providing 24 hr live arial coverage of the crime scene.  It was hard to sleep.  I had been struggling to eat anyway.

I realized that for several days I hadn't eaten or had barely eaten.  Yesterday I realized my head hurt and I was just so hungry.  It was hard to eat.  Eating felt so trivial, so normal.  And in the face of the evil that has happened, normal every day things didn't seem to matter.

My kids have been asking me questions.  They need me to help them process their feelings.  My oldest is angry.  REALLY. REALLY. ANGRY.  My middle doesn't realize that he is both relieved and scared.  He keeps mentioning that he was there just a few hours before the shooting. 

Yesterday I just didn't want to go home after church.  Home felt stifling at that moment.  My oldest suggested Toys R Us and I thought it sounded like a great idea.  It was refreshing to see some innocence.  It was healing to see my children playing with toys and making birthday and Christmas wish lists.  It was wonderful to see them with their innocence in tact even though I know the weekend stole some of their innocence.  It was a joy to watch them being little.

And today we get up, dust ourselves off and keep going.  Today I, like everyone else here in Aurora, put one foot in front of the other and continue doing the normal every day things.  It is hard.  For some of them, their worlds are completely shattered and it is devestating to think of life continuing when their lives have stopped.

But if we all let life stop, then the shooter will have won.  He will have done what he came to, he will have broken us.  I'm not going to be broken.  I'm going to come alongside of those who I love and we are going to grow stronger.  Once again, we are not going to let the evil of one man, the darkness of one put out the light of many. 

Be The Change You Wish to See

It isn't ok.  Assault is never ok.  Bullying, whether it be in the form of words, physical actions or sexual assault is not acceptable.

So I've told the story before, as least I think I have.  When I was in high school I was attacked by someone who had been a friend of mine.  We were alone in the chapel (private school, remember?), it was fairly dark with worship music playing.  He called me over to where he was and asked me a question.  We talked for a few minutes.

He told me he liked me and wanted to know if I would go on a date with him.  I told him no, I was seeing someone else.  Before I knew it he was kissing me.  "Well now how do you feel about me?"  I wanted to scream,  "I HATE YOU!  I SAID NO!" but instead I just froze.  I tried to tell him again that I wasn't interested.  And in moments that happened so quickly I am not entirely sure how it happened, I found myself on the ground pinned down. 

I didn't know it was possible for anyone to have that many hands, they were everywhere.  I couldn't move.  He was still kissing me, I couldn't pull away and I couldn't even scream.  As he tore the buttons off of my shirt and broke my bra strap, I knew he was going to rape me and in my head I said, "God, help."  Suddenly my attacker was against the wall as if he was being held there, staring at me with a blank "What just happened?" kind of a look. 

I seized the opportunity and ran, clutching my shirt closed.  I wore my coat for the rest of classes.  I didn't tell anyone at first.  I was so scared and so ashamed.  A couple of days later, I told a youth group leader and she gave me the courage and even went with me to tell the school administration. 

Here is the surprising part.  The school did nothing.  First they said I must have been mistaken.  Then they finally called him in and he admitted to it.  They gave him a one day in school suspension, which basically meant he did homework in the office instead of going to classes.  I felt really devalued.  My parents were pissed.

Now I know I don't always have great things to say about my mom and that I struggle with her a lot, but this time she did right by me.  She went in to the principal's office every.single.day for two months until that boy was kicked out of school.  He said he couldn't help it, that was just how he was.  They tried to tell us that.  My parents would hear none of it.  My mom finally went over the principal's head to the director.  Finally they acted.

A year or so ago I read an article in my husband's Sports Illustrated about a girl who had been sexually assaulted at school and the school refused to protect her.  Her dad stood up for her.  I remember reading it and being pissed that once again the school protected the attacker not the victim.

And folks, it is happening again.  Read this blog.  Ok, so Lillian wasn't sexually assaulted but she was still assaulted.  She was hurt at school from bullying, hurt enough to need medical intervention and the school is protecting the wrong person.  Her mamma and auntie are tough cookies though and they are advocating for her.  Her story has moved like wildfire across the country. 

I can't make every bully stop bullying.  I can't throw every starfish back in the ocean.  But I can make a difference for one.  WE can make a difference for Lilly.  I know first hand what it feels like for the school to say it wasn't a big deal, that I was exaggerating, that I was lying, and that he couldn't help himself.  I know what it feels like when the people who should be there to protect you end up protecting the person who hurt you AND IT SUCKS. 

I've written to the principal Nick Johnson (njohnson@hpsk12.net) as well as to the superintendent Dr. Johnny Scott (jscott@hpsk12.net).  I also wrote a note to Lillian to let her know that I stand with her and that she is worth fighting for.  I'm tired of hearing about bullies being protected or rewarded.  It isn't right.  Tonight I decided to do something about it.  It may only be one, but I'm going to stand up for this one.  And if I hear of another who needs support, I'll stand up for them as well.  Someone needs to change the world.  Why not us?