This morning I just can't seem to keep a lid on it. I'm so incredibly happy that we were able to effect change - that we were able to get that horrific website taken down. It gives me hope and courage to continue down this path that has called me - but I am finding it hard to stem the tears and the anger and the sadness...
I am constantly busy. I work full time, go to school full time (MBA program), own my own business, am working on this project with Rebecca, am very politically active (attended a meet the candidate event last night), am hosting a "meet & greet" for my neighborhood next week and am a mother and wife. People who know me would tell you I am the busiest person they know, but they would also tell you that I am always the first one to volunteer to do more.
I'm running. See, the busier I am, the less I have time to think. About the betrayals. About the sorrow. About the loss. About the fact that my mom and dad didn't care enough about me to protect me from a man they knew was a pedophile...the fact that even after I told them, they forced me into his presence...the fact that they valued HIS life over mine...the fact that my grandmother died thinking I was a little slut and that I hurt her...the fact that my sister blames me and doesn't speak to me...that my brother never calls and my dad less often.
And so I was suffocating this morning. Feeling anxious, my heart racing, my pulse throbbing, elevated respirations, and an overhwelming sadness permeating every pore of my being. I just had to get out of here. Had to get away. So I got up and went outside to take a walk...
There is a beautiful park with a walking path next to my building. The air is crisp and fresh.
I walked purposefully, quickly, eyes on the ground, searching my soul for the source of the pain. Realizing that I was suffocating beneath this realization that they didn't love me, that I was unlovable, that I was disposable, just a kid nobody cared about. Protect the family, don't embarrass the family, never speak of it again, you deal with it, get over it, stop talking about it, stop living in the past. My mom died and we never spoke of it again. She knew - he had raped her for years and she put me in his life. She sacrificed me. To get his love she killed the child within me. She must have hated me!
And so on and on I walked, trying to tamp down these feelings, trying to get a handle on my life again, to avoid it spinning out of control. I am always on the edge, one wrong step and I am right where so many victims are - drugged out, prostituting myself, continuing the abuse...sometimes I think THAT is the easier road - the giving up. Numbing the pain through alcohol and drugs. Never having to FEEL this again - the anger and pain and betrayal and overwhelming sadness and suffocation...Sick, disgusting, vile human being, who would love you? who would want you? used, dirty, worthless.
As questions run through my mind, my internal dialogue begins - "Walk, just walk and calm down, get a grip - you can handle this - you can do anything, you've come so far, don't throw it away now. You had a victory yesterday - one of many, don't stop, Roxine, please don't stop.."
My heart rate slows, my pace slows, and I begin to notice the shadows on the ground where my eyes are fixated. They are of trees, leaves of trees to be exact. And in those shadows I see little children's faces. I see them laughing and smiling because they are up in the tree and they are safe from the horrors of the ground. They are safe because we built this tree for them. We gave them a place of refuge. A place to play and laugh and swing and be happy. A place void of betrayals and hatred and anger and sorrow. And my breathing slows, and a peace slowly returns.
The wind is blowing slightly and the shadows are dancing and my spirit is lifting. Raising my eyes, I see two Canadian Geese walking across the grass. And I reflect back to a few years ago when a pair had a nest just outside of my husband's office door. I remember every time we would approach the sliding glass door how the male would spread his wings and quickly approach us, barking at us, flapping his wings,- fiercely protecting his newborn young. And I realize I am crying. Wishing I had had that same fierce protection from my father.
And so here I am. Sad, broken, hurt, but not stopping:
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade, 10
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate: 15
I am the captain of my soul.