Process Of Elimination

Everything changed last night.
I've been told for as long as I can remember that the brain, when it's been through something traumatic, avoids being overwhelmed or breaking down by seperating things. It will push the hurtful things into another compartment, to be processed at a later time.
Last night, I realized I'd been doing that with the knowledge of other people's emotions.
I've been extremely sensitive to other people's emotions as long as I can remember.
Last night, I put his feelings, because they were negative, into the "Later" bin, because it hurt too much to process them at that point. He has no way to understand this, or comprehend it, nor does he care to. He's hurt, and that's all he's ready to handle. I can't blame him, but I also can't change anything to make this better.
I'm not a fan of admitting I'm wrong, but I did. I'm not a fan of apologizing, but I did.
All he could hear was that I knew what I was doing when I hurt him.
Now, there's nothing left.
It's back to dealing with things without expecting anyone to be there for me, which is probably for the best, but I won't get over this for a while. It's never been like this before... What a life.

The Dark Spot On A Beautiful Soul

I try my damndest to be a good person.
Most days, I think I do alright. Not great, rarely good, but alright is pretty safe.
Today, I woke up. It's too late, and I know that, but I'm awake now.
I knew what I did. I knew I was screwing up, but I'd been craving the attention. I didn't cheat, hell, we're not even together, but I knew what it'd look like and I knew it'd hurt him if he was paying attention.
I screwed up.
He might have a jealous streak a mile wide, but I'm clearly not doing much to help that, now am I?
I used his jealousy as an excuse. Did he go a little overboard? Yeah, probably. Was I wrong? Without a doubt.
So, looks like I woke up just in time to start a new decade, and, eventually, maybe a new relationship. He sure as hell ain't takin me back, and I can't blame him.
I stopped drinking so I wouldn't have an excuse for my actions. I remember being fed excuses for every action, feeling, word... I remember never having to take responsibility. I don't live in that world anymore, and I refuse to let it drag me back. I worked too hard to get out of that place. I am not living with excuses.
I was wrong, and I am admitting I'm wrong.
There's no more excuses, there's no more lies. The only person who believed my lies was me.
Now I realize what they were.
Maybe he wasn't the one, maybe he was just someone to teach me what I needed to know.
I guess it doesn't stop hurting either way.
I'll do better next time.

Guns

Sticking by my guns will be the hardest thing I've ever had to do.
Love isn't enough.
I want it to be okay, but I can't be the person he wants me to be.
I don't want to give up, I don't want to walk away, but I can't feel guilty every time I talk to someone. It feels wrong either way.
My heart has never hurt this much before...
I've lost my man and my best friend, and there's nothing I can do about it because we weren't able to do both. I don't want this to be my reality, but it is.
I want what I believed we could have.

Individual Diamond

I'm going to be selfish for a while.
I'm enjoying the attention, and enjoying not giving too much of myself to anyone.
I'm not going to make the same mistakes I was before- I'd forgotten how much more enjoyable life is when it's uncomplicated. I love the feeling of taking care of myself. I look down at the ring on my finger and smile- because I'm the one who put it there. I made no negotiations or compromises to get it there. I gave up nothing but some cash that I earned.
My heart is still in love.
The rest of me, though... We're taking care of me first.

Revelation In Reverse

You know how everyone talks about how life was so much simpler when we were kids?
That's because it was.
No drinking, no sex, no job, no bills, no worries...
I mean, if you were out too late, you'd get grounded.
How much clearer could the rules get?

Why can't we go back to that?
No, seriously, WHY CAN'T WE?
I know my life has become a lot less chaotic since I stopped drinking. I really don't want to go back to that. I don't miss drinking. Every so often, I miss "feeling like an adult" because what I remember of adults from a kids perspective... well, they could drink.
I don't need alcohol to feel like an adult, and, frankly, being a grown-up isn't all it's cracked up to be. So, I'm going back to being a kid: as few complications as possible.

The Woman In The Pearls

I was watching a movie the other night with a friend, Made Of Honor. Total chick flick, by the way, but he got a kick out of it, anyway.
Something struck me about the movie that I never, ever expected. The bride's mother came into her daughter's bedroom one morning, still in her night clothes, and it made me realize who I thought I'd end up being. There she sat, in her perfect cream-colored silk nightie- the long, elegant kind, not the short, honeymoon kind- and her pearls, and the robe that matched the nightie and... I realized that's the woman I want to be.
This, coming from the tattooed tomboy fat kid for life.
I am such a massive contradiction.
I love my tattoos. I love that I'm strong, and like sports (not necessarily good at them, but oh well), that I'm hard-headed (to a degree...), that I like motorcycles and trucks and sports cars... The thing is, the ultimate goal isn't to be a guy. It's not even to be a tomboy or a tough chick. It's to be a lady. I don't do insanely well with behaving as such when I lose my temper, but, hey, such is life. I have a very hard time balancing the things I enjoy and the woman I am. When five people make shocked faces or astounded remarks when I show up somewhere in a dress... well, it made me realize that it isn't what I wanted them to be shocked by.
I've been wild my whole life. I've been independent and hard-headed and fiercely, well, me for as long as I can remember. I've always had my own ideas about EVERYTHING. I'm not sure if I'm more surprised that I survived my childhood or that my parents did. (Two outta three aint bad.) I like the unique, pretty, girly things... More than anything, though, I like being treated like a lady. I'm tired of being just another female, just another soldier... at work, it's one thing, but I shouldn't find myself surprised to have doors held open for me, or when a guy is genuinely hurt when I tell him that yes, we can hang out, but not to think I'm going to sleep with him. I'm tired of faith and race and any other intelligent subject being off limits for conversation, because everyone around me is too busy gossiping and talking about alcohol or sex or the like. I'm really over this partying crap. I have no issues going out to the bars every once in a while and letting loose... but why bother going out to the bars when your whole life revolves around what happens there? I mean, how is it letting loose or even remotely interesting or exciting when that's all you effing do?
I feel old. I'm turning 24 in a couple weeks, and I just feel old. The number is so low... but, I mean, really... how many years do you have to live to figure out that doing the same thing over and over again is the same thing over and over again?
I want to be that woman, that lady. I want the dignity, I want the grace, I want the respect. I want to fall in love with a man who has a relationship with God like I do. I want someone who knows what they want in life. I can't raise a family in a non-religious home... I hate the word religious, but I have no other idea how to explain it. I want my children to feel safe talking about race and God and what they want to do... I don't want my children to think there are subjects that are off limits. I want a life, a family, a career. I don't want to sacrifice who I am or what I believe in to have this. I don't expect to meet the man of my dreams tomorrow. I don't need to meet him tomorrow. I just really hope I can find a way to help myself become the woman I know I was meant to be.

Medicine, Woman!

With prayer beads in one hand, and a knife in the other, I try to remember who I am and why I'm here. With hope in my heart and fear in my eyes, I raise my soul to God and pray for Him to draw near.

My heart is broken, my soul is wounded, and even my body is aching today. I turn on the music, take a breath, and try to take a step back from the world that turns, and so often turns away from what it doesn't understand. I try to stand still, try to remain detached, so that the story may unfold as it was meant to without rippling the easily disturbed waters of my spirit. I try to see what I must do from the outside, rather than from the place inside the picture, where I stand. I try to replace the fear with faith, try to remember that there is a reason for every step, every breath, and certainly every tear. I must cling to my faith in God when my faith in humanity is dulled. There is medicine at the store for my physical aches and pains, but only God and time will heal the wounds of my heart and soul. I'm not the best woman, friend, soldier, sister or daughter I can be. I have done decent in most of these categories, but need to do better. I am grateful for the people who have had patience with me, and hope they are around to see the dawn that I can only pray is coming from the terrible darkness I have been in.

My favorite prayer, one I found in Illumine My Heart:

Glory be to Thee, O Lord my God! I beg of Thee by Thy Name through which He Who is Thy Beauty hath been stablished upon the throne of Thy Cause, and by Thy Name through Thou changest all things, and callest to account all things, and rewardest all things, and preservest all things, and sustainest all things- I beg of Thee to guard this handmaiden who hath fled for refuge to Thee, and hath sought the shelter of Him in Whom Thou Thyself art manifest, and hath put her whole trust and confidence in Thee.
She is sick, O my God, and hath entered beneath the shadow of the Tree of Thy healing; afflicted and hath fled to the City of Thy Protection; diseases and hath fled to the City of Thy protection; diseased and hath sought the Fountainhead of Thy favors; sorely vexed, and hath hasted to attain the Wellspring of Thy tranquility; burdened with sin, and hath set her face toward the court of Thy forgiveness.
Attire her, by Thy sovereignty and Thy loving kindness, O my God and my Beloved, with the raiment of Thy balm, and Thy healing, and make her quaff of the cup of Thy mercy and Thy favors. Protect her, moreover, from every affliction and ailment, from all pain and sickness, and from whatsoever may be abhorrent unto Thee.
Thou, in truth, art immensely exalted above all else except Thyself. Thou art, verily, the Healer, the All-Sufficing, the Preserver, the Ever-Forgiving, the Most Merciful.
-Baha'u'llah

It's interesting to me now that I have a favorite prayer. It wasn't that long ago that saying a prayer other than the words in my head or heart (and sometimes not even words) was something I believed could never appeal to me. I can't explain exactly how things have changed, really. I am grateful to have found a faith that has always been so much a part of me, even before I knew the name of it. I bought the book with the prayers in it, and, when I found one that fit what I was looking for, I started saying it regularly. I would push myself to imagine the images, above and beyond just saying the words, immersing myself in the intent of the prayer. It made a huge difference, and it feels so natural now. I haven't memorized it yet, but it is so much a part of me. I wish I had musical talent, I'd try to put that to music, as some Baha'i groups have done with other prayers. It's inspiring. It takes effort to remember, sometimes, that the anger, that the pain is a sin against myself and others, that there is no reason I can't do better, and the universe was not made to accept things staying the same- nothing, after all stays the same- so it's far easier for the universe to accept change than sometimes it is for us to change. Deciding change and improvement is what we truly want is the hardest part. Once we want it, well, the rest of the universe will accept us for who we are becoming far more easily than we can imagine.
To quote a friend:
Is God good?
All day.

Peppermint Patty And The Snake Oil Suspension

Okay, if it's not clearly ridiculous that a 10 year old girl was suspended for bringing peppermint oil to school during the holiday season and sharing it with her friends, what is?
This happened up in NY. Peppermint oil, from what I can find is mostly effective for settling one's upset stomach. With months of use and large amounts, one may be able to dissolve gallstones. When was the last time you heard of someone overdosing on peppermint oil? No tolerance, well, that's a great policy, so long as the person enforcing this has an IQ above the single digits. If it was a distraction in class, then take it from her, speak to her parents, whatever. Suspending her, though?
I can't help but wonder what other factors were at work here for the staff to make such a call. Why was this peppermint oil- or this child- seen as a threat?

The Next Decade

2009 was a bust.
Too many bad/upsetting things.
I turn 24 in a couple weeks, so I have that much more of a fresh start. In July, I will be leaving Korea. I have until then to get myself where I need to be mentally, emotionally and career-wise. I am putting together my physical paperwork for Flight Medic. As of now, I want to re-enlist for either Hood or Bliss, as I really need some time at home, and try to get Flight Medic school en route. Honestly, it seems like Bliss is the best choice for me right now, to bring some closure to some of my past. It's also close enough to Hood that I can come bug my people there on a regular basis. <3
I'm not going to focus on any relationship for a while. Relationships have continually been a huge source of stress for me. When the next one comes around, I refuse to make the same mistakes I've made in the past. Sex is not even going to be an option for a very long time. I hate what sex does to relationships. I'm sure my Daddy will read this, and probably my sister too, but they're adults and they know I am too. I hope they won't cringe at the thought that I'm an adult, but rather be proud that I'm finally making better decisions for myself.
I want- no, I NEED to do more studying where my faith is concerned. I have been unable to get in contact with anyone in the area who shares my faith and, therefore, might be able to teach me more, but that's more of a reason to do studies on my own. I don't believe I will be punished for not being able to adhere to the strictest parts of my faith, but I know I need to do better with my habits, and will continue to work on that. God doesn't ask that much of me in relation to praying, etc. There's no reason I can't work a little harder at that in order to get my life more on track.
I am a lot like my Daddy, always have been. There's some things he's always struggled with, whether or not he knows I see it. I love my Daddy, and want to be like him in a lot of ways, but I've also done my best to learn from his struggles. Relationships and faith are areas I know I can take lessons from his pain, and I can only hope that I can teach my children about those things in different ways than he taught me. I want to make my children the best generation of my family yet, and I can't do that if I don't build on the foundation my parents gave me.
Being in Korea is very painful, especially right now, when everyone is celebrating holidays I don't believe in, and right after a break up. I'm learning a lot, but learning is nearly always at least somewhat painful. I miss home. This next decade needs to be better, no matter what I need to do to make that happen.
Times Magazine, incidentally, ran an article titled "The Decade From Hell And Why The Next One Will Be Better". It was nice to get some good news...

Admission On Me

I feel sexiest when I'm wearing sweats and a tank top, not when I'm wearing lingerie.

I'd rather be unwillingly abstinent for the rest of my life than without love.

I'll find a way to tell anyone that they're not weird for feeling the way they do if they trust me enough to tell me something they're uncomfortable with about themselves, even if it takes me by total surprise. Very few things take me by surprise as a result of this.

I think it's hilarious that multiple people have told me I'm far more normal than I'll ever know.

I couldn't eat spinach for 15 years because a particularly disturbing older relative specifically stated he liked that I ate my spinach, despite my all-out love affair with vegetables prior to that incident.

I feel guilty every single day of my life for things I couldn't have changed, and still suffer effects of. Every single day.

I feel like a complete moron trying to explain to people with combat patches why I have flashbacks. More often than not, they're the only ones who get why.

I am a thousand times harder on myself than anyone has ever had any reason to suspect. It takes every ounce of effort not to bash myself for things I couldn't have known the outcome of.

I wish I'd shammed when I had the chance.

I say I'd never change a thing about how I grew up or where I came from, because then I wouldn't be this person... but sometimes, I really, really, really would like to be someone else for a while.

The meaner I am, the more pain there is fueling the fire.

I've forgiven my attackers, but I will never be able to forgive myself. Ultimately, I was not the only victim in either attack, and both could have been prevented with a little less faith in humanity.

I still think about drinking again at least once a week, and it's been over 8 months since I quit drinking officially. (I feel more guilt because of this, and because of the wine I allowed myself for a period of time, and the night I had 2 drinks before realizing how much I hated the feeling of being drunk.)

I throw out more of the fruits n veggies than I end up eating, but I go through frozen dinners and the Mexican candy I order like it's water.

The biggest compliment I've ever received was a school teacher in the PX smiling at me and saying 'Hello, Beautiful' without wanting anything or having any agenda behind it. I will never forget this compliment.

The most vivid (pleasant) non-family memory I have as a child is of a college student who was doing a project for a religions class. She was taking pictures of random strangers on the street, and posting them on a board titled "Is This What God Looks Like?" I was instantly fascinated, and was no older than 6 at the time. It's been 18 years and I haven't forgotten the project or what she looked like.

Half the conversations I have on Facebook and Myspace chat are out of guilt. The half that reads this are probably not the people I feel guilted into talking to.

I've never wanted anything more than I want children. I do, however, give up on that more often than any other dream. Despite the want, and the amount of love I have for children, I'm terrified I'd just screw them up.

I want to be a career soldier, because it's the best job I've ever done. Most days, though, I can't imagine surviving 20 years of it.

People constantly mistake the fact that I have almost no secrets for trusting people. It's easier not to have secrets- that way I don't have to trust anyone with them. Ever. For any reason.

I am addicted to Facebook because I am addicted to the idea that eventually someone will say something to make me feel so much better. It's my way of tempting fate for the positive. Occasionally it happens, and it's usually the very same people.

Everclear is the one band I listen to when I absolutely have to get myself in a better mood. I have never, ever been able to figure out why their music has this effect on me, but it works. "Unemployed Boyfriend"" is the number one song on that playlist.

People repeatedly tell me I'm one of the strongest people they know. They usually pick a point when I've completely lost my temper and started throwing things or had a massive panic attack to tell me this. It never seems to occur to anyone besides me that this may be a completely counterproductive plan of action.

I'm tempted to cut off all my hair just to see how many of my guy friends still talk to me when I go out.

I believe, more everyday, that men are generically shallow assholes, and that I've gotten lucky with a few good ones that I have in my life. This is the polar opposite of my point of view roughly 10 years ago.

I'm generally what I think of as a happy person... but, sometimes, I just get so tired of it all.

Peace VS Vulnerability

That was my mistake.
I was honest, instead of hoping the issue wouldn't come up.
Here I am, feeling raw and vulnerable and scared, and it wouldn't even occur to anyone that I might.
I'm tired of being vulnerable, or having a reason to feel that way.
It was so long since I opened up to someone, I mean really opened up. I hadn't realized I'd kept so much inside for so long until he came along, but now he's gone, and I'm left knowing he isn't the person I'm supposed to be with... I can't be with someone defensive or aggressive or who's not independently willing to find out about who I am and what makes me tick. I need someone who trusts me to be honest, if nothing else. I'm not perfect, I make mistakes, but at the minimum, I'm not a liar.
Now that I remember what it's like to be vulnerable, exposed, it's like I'm having trouble closing those doors again. It's also bringing a lot of things I've been told before into perspective. Jere told me once that he didn't want to see me get my heart broke again because he knew I'd shut down again. I agreed, but couldn't for the life of me understand what he was talking about- I didn't shut down after a relationship ended. I just moved on. Now I see it. Now I see what my heart wants to do more than anything- to lock everyone out. To go back into my shell, to refuse to let anyone in, to just be me and away from the painful sunlight that would be so harsh on my still-open wounds. Right now, after telling some brief version of my story, after trying to show a little sliver of who I am and where I've been to someone who doesn't know me, well, I feel that burning sunlight so deep inside. I'm not trying to find forever. I'm just trying not to shut the whole world out again... but that's all I want to do. I just want everyone and everything to go away, and let me lick my wounds. I don't want anyone to see me like this, and that's why I know, from experience, that's why I must resist the urge to hide.
I can't let all these people see me that way, of course.
I just can't push those who have been there for me away.
I can't be the island again.
It's not a choice, because I will lose all the progress I've made if I close up again. I will be back at square one. I'm single, but I'm not alone... Not that I think the now-ex-boyfriend is even bothering to read this, but I'm sure he'd be thrilled to hear/see me say that. The thing is, opening up to him isn't an option, either. He's the reason the wounds are open, the reason the sunlight burns so bad. I love him, he did the best he could, and I really can't fault him for anything he did... He just isn't the person I need him to be.
So, here I sit, listening to Luda singing/spitting with Jesse McCartney, talking about how do you sleep... listening to the wind outside my open window... feeling the pain seep from the gaping, invisible hole in my chest... and wondering why the next step I couldn't find had to sneak up on me, and why it had to hurt so badly.
I told the ex one day... I told him I was stuck, I didn't know where the next step was, I had come to a dead end. I was out of luck. Now, the next step is plain as day: processing what I need in a relationship, what I can handle, what I need, what I can give, and accepting that some scars will simply be part of me. Scars do fade, though, and PTSD is not a terminal illness. This will not be what kills me, I have more historically significant battles to fight still. I have to find the strength to grow from this. I have to find the seeds that are spread amongst so much gravel, so I can plant them where they can grow. I have to let this pain run it's course, without stopping or medicating it, without arguing it's beginnings or ends... That is not for me to choose. That has already been decided. I have to learn to step back, to be detached as God has asked of me, and let the natural healing process do it's job.
Eventually.... eventually, this too shall pass, and the scars will fade and it will all make so much more sense than it does in this brief moment of clarity... When that happens, I may cry in gratitude. I will see that day. I've come to far.
It really pisses me off when the only way to heal is to be wounded.

Job Description

What it takes to last with me:
Patience- this can not be over stated. Patience is an absolute requirement.
Spirituality. I need someone to keep me grounded in my faith when I've lost touch with it. Preferably Baha'i, but at least open to the possibilities of what being serious with someone of this faith will mean.
Must be willing to learn about the things that have become part of me and made me who I am, and not just to please me, or to be able to control me, but because they really want to understand me.
Good looking. Doesn't need to be Brad Pitt, but must take care of themselves without needing to be nagged to do so.
Race isn't an issue, but anyone who can't fully relate to being a minority need not apply.
I say again: Patience.
Strength of character and of heart. (Trust me, this job is not for the feint of heart!!!!)
Intelligence, and ability to carry an intelligent conversation, without belittling others.
Must be willing to watch movies with strong female leads, and live similarly. I am not a weak woman, and if you can't survive me when I'm strong-willed and protecting my heart, you'll never see me when I'm vulnerable.
Must be willing and able to overcome wants to make the right choice.
Patience.

It's odd to me that, today, I feel more attractive than I have in ages, but also as hurt as I have in years. I'm doing what I can to get back on my feet. I'm trying to force myself into a revolution, here, because I have no intention of going in the same circle anymore. Love is a really screwed up thing, and I'm not going to keep letting my walls down like I have, and I'm not going to do things just to feel like my walls are down. Some people have not earned the privilege to see me vulnerable and, in truth, the few who have haven't even done a great job at handling me when I'm vulnerable. It can't be a bad thing to be alone when I'm vulnerable, as opposed to the alternative. I don't want this to be my reality, I don't want it to really be over. That's something that happened anyway, though, and now all I can do is to get back on my feet the best I can without him.
Meanwhile, the attention I'm getting doesn't hurt my ego. So long as I keep control of my life, I'm going to enjoy the world on my own terms. He was the one meant to teach me a lot of lessons, but those have been taught. I'm on my own now, and that's okay.

Heartbreak An The Unbroken Spirit

I write more when I'm upset.
If I wrote for a living, constantly going through on-again-off-again relationships would make me a millionaire.
Instead, it just makes me insane.
It's crappy that I have more to share when I'm miserable than when I'm happy, though, really.
I want stability. I want peace. I want healing.
I have come so far, but I still have SO FAR left to go.
I get so tired sometimes, just tired of being this person, of fighting with the same demons day in and day out, to the point that it's predictable but none the less painful in it's predictability.
I have five days off.
FIVE.
I went to the PX today after work, shopping spree on my mind.
I couldn't find crap that I wanted to buy. My father will surely be shocked at this possibility.
I know I was.
I did all I could to make my relationship better, but it didn't work.
Now there's nothing left but pieces of my heart, and the urge to wash all those pieces away before they manage to heal up enough to be broken again.
This isn't the way it was supposed to be.

Because They're Forever

I bought myself a diamond and aquamarine ring today.
I'm ignoring the fact that it wasn't insanely expensive, and therefore not a huge splurge, like one would imagine a diamond ring would be. It caught my eye as being 'the one' and I ignored the fact that I would have been okay with spending nearly 3 times what it cost for the purpose that it will serve to me.
I don't know where my relationship stands right now.
I love him, but the demons I am battling put me and whoever is close to me in the same bad places over and over again. It's almost down to a science now. Daily, I'll struggle with the bad memories, the pain, and, if I've been having trouble sleeping or haven't been eating/writing/praying as I know I should, then the flash backs and anger will be major obstacles for me daily, too. Every month, I will have a period of one to three days where, if I can avoid people, I can overcome it quietly and without notice, but the emotions are always the same. If people are not to be avoided, it is an end to the relationships closest to me, and very dark thoughts. Always lots of fear, lots of pain, lots of questions during these days. That never fails. People being around just makes it all so much worse, though.
I'm not bipolar, hell, the same two moods would be a blessing compared to this crap some days.
Anti-depressants just made the aggression worse.
I'm on my own with this. Even if my boyfriend decides he wants to try again, he's completely clueless as to how to handle this, and seems less and less willing to try. Can't say I blame him. Either way, I am who and what I am. With or without anyone else. I'm tired of even wanting to be part of a relationship, though I know myself well enough that I know it'll never stop. It's not that I miss being single- I want only one person, truly- it's that I miss being less complicated. As a person, you only have your own actions, emotions and life to deal with. As half of a couple, well, good luck even getting to deal with your own. Not only is there another person involved, but their feelings mix with yours and then it feels more like there's 3 sets of feelings rather than 2.
See, this is where the diamond thing comes in. There's only 3 things in this world (besides cockroaches and Twinkies) that are forever- God, me, and diamonds. The rest may cause a whole lot of pain, but I don't have the luxury of being able to wallow in drama or other people's lives. I have plenty on my own plate. Between me, God, and the diamonds on my finger, well, it's up to us to solve this stuff, because no one else gets it, nor do they need to.
Maybe the ring will also help me remember that it's bullshit to expect someone else to be what I need them to. That's nobody's purpose in life except my own.

Drastic

Where did this come from?
Okay, the weird mood, the anger, yeah, I got that. I know where that's coming from.
Where the hell did wanting to make some sudden, drastic change come from?
*sigh*

Feminine Feminism

Feminist: The ultimate "F Word".
Lord, you should see the size mens' eyes get when I say the simple phrase "I'm a feminist."
Holy hell.
Seriously? Look it up.
It means you're not any better than me, and I'm not any better than you.
You know, equals.
I just heard you exhale, didn't I?
I read a pointed critique of Beyonce's latest video, Video Phone, featuring Lady Gaga, recently. If you watch the video without thought, well, it's a Beyonce video. She's running around half naked, as Lady Gaga always seems to be. She sings, dances, shakes her hips. Nothing new, right?
Perhaps.
If you read the critique, though, and then watch it, you catch a few more things than you might have otherwise. Her body language, mannerisms, even her words- 'Yo, shawty, what your name is?'- do nothing to suggest or imply that she is anything less than in complete control of everything- and everyone- around her. There's no mistaking that Beyonce is comfortable with her body. The ageless debate, though, is whether or not nudity and sexuality can be used for, rather than against, the feminist 'movement'. Can a stripper be a feminist? It's a tired debate, to be honest. The thing is, the more I pay attention, all the women in this world who have really knocked people dead, who have really gotten ahead of the game, never once denied their sexuality. Not all of them flaunted it, but all of them accepted and worked with it. Beyonce is comfortable with her body, though she's one of the few artists I can't recall any sort of sex scandal or video tape about off hand. Even if there was, though, she's not the type to let it get to her- because, after all, she's in control. Oprah, who I think has done an outstanding thing by making such a name for herself, also, well, in my humble opinion, really isn't incredibly bright. I've never been too impressed with anything she had to say, but the woman focused on what she knew for sure: her fellow women. Her entire fortune is founded on the fact that she is a woman. She never denied it, or held it back, or shied away from the fact. These are the successful women of our day and age, and I think we all have a lot to learn from them. These women are successful not in spite of being women but because they are women.
Who doesn't want to make it big because of who they already are?

Perfect In The Sight Of God

"Will this matter a year from now?"
This is a question I need to start asking myself a little more often.
I am my own worst critic, by a long shot. I am tired of stressing myself out over things that really don't matter in the long run. I have become a lot more honest recently, which some people are going to be having a hard time adjusting to. I'm not everybody's friend, because there are simply some people I do not need in my life. I will never be the person to backstab or snitch, that's simply not my way; Do unto others, as you would have them do unto you. It might be naive, but I still believe the golden rule. None the less, I will not go out of my way to deal with people I don't care for, people who's influence in my life is not a positive.
I am not perfect. I am not making all the choices I think are the absolute right. There are many things I would do different were I given a blank page. The fact of the matter is, though, I do not have the luxury of a blank page, nor is that the intention of this life. God has given me all my experiences to build atop one another, and this is what I have done. I may not make the most politically correct or even well-liked decisions, but I have and continue to make the decisions I know to be the right ones. I may not be perfect, but I am perfect in the sight of God.

Gotta Have Faith

I've missed the beliefs I seem to have forgotten recently.
I'm going to make some changes over these next few weeks, as I get my life back on it's proverbial feet. It's become a habit to pray before I sleep, but that seems to be the only time I pray lately. I need to do better than that.
Journaling is another one of those things I need to up the ante on. I do it from time to time, but it's a healing thing, and it's got to become a reflex instead of an afterthought.
I'm pretty sure I know where I stand on things right now, but I need to make sure I keep it that way. I'm going out for EFMB this coming year, and also trying to get my Flight Medic school request approved, so I can't afford to lose my focus on this.
I'm going to order some of the books I need to read, both for the spiritual reasons and for the education. I need to buckle down on this.

History Of Heartbreak

I have an interest in various religions and cultures. I grew up a minority, and that makes my mind a little bit different as to how I view others who are a minority in some way.
I grew up reading biographies of MLK and Rosa Parks, but nothing has hit home quite so much as this article about 'bad black mothers'.
It goes into a decent amount of detail, while linking recent events with cultural and historical issues and prejudices, some quite invasive.
I grew up a minority, and I identify with women of other races, because, at first glance, I am part of what is all too often the issue rather than the solution. I have a very muddy blood line, but I, to my knowledge, lack either Hispanic or Black lineage. None the less, and regardless of the Native American blood I have, I typically will choose other as a race. Why? Not because I don't want to believe it's a "white girl" staring back at me each morning, but because if I am to be a statistic, I refuse to be one that can be so easily labeled, so narrowly defined. I am not an 'us' and I am not a 'them', but if you're going to force me to pick one, it's going to be on the side of the fence that's diverse.
I highly recommend that article. I'm sure plenty of black mothers would enjoy it, but white women and men may honestly get the most out of it. I've never heard the historical darkness so thoroughly or clearly worded.

Looking Back At Me

I'm told I'm quite attractive. People are generally pretty surprised I don't see myself that way. Some days, it's not so bad, and I realize I'm a pretty decent looking lady. Mostly, though, this is what I see looking back at me....
I see 23 years of not being able to tell where I end and the past begins.
I see a woman who has done plenty of things she's not proud of, and can't really explain why.
I see someone who looks an awful lot like the stereotypical 'crackhead-white-girl' from too many Law & Order episodes- someone who might have been pretty and smart in another life.
I see someone who's faced the same situations over and over- and rarely made a different choice.
I see someone who puts herself in the same bad place repeatedly, and still can't figure out how to get it right.
I see someone who is tired of fighting the same battles, so tired she doesn't want to bother with them at all anymore.
I see that skinny white girl from Law & Order who knew what her boyfriend was capable of, but went back to him anyway.
I see the pained victim, the weak little girl, the scared child... and I wonder where the rest of me went.
If the signs and symptoms of PTSD went away tomorrow, I don't know what would be left of me. I've been struggling with this my entire life, in some form or another. I don't know where it ends and I begin. I'm doing all I can to make it better, and it's healing, but I'm tired of wondering what's going to pop up next. I'm tired of seeing myself in the same place over and over, too scared to walk alone, too weak to go back to God on my own, too scared to face the world around me. I'm not depressed- I've been there before. I'm frustrated. I'm tired of standing still. I'm tired of waiting for the next issue to pop up. I'm tired of nightmares, and tired of waking up to find that, even though I don't remember the nightmares this time, I busted my own lip, or reopened a scar, or somehow cut my hand in my sleep. I'm tired of wondering what's going to set me off next.
Maybe I made the wrong choice, maybe I made the choice out of fear more than love.
Maybe it doesn't make a difference if I'm single or not, because no one else can fight this battle for me.
I know I'll make it through this, I'm just not sure when or how.

It's Good To Be "Home"

I've ended my relationship, and, thankfully, on good terms over all.
It wasn't a lack of emotions, it was an excess.
I need to take care of me for a while, and remember how to do that, before I can work another person into my life. MY life. I have this horrible habit of revolving my world around the person I care about, and then begging, nagging and b*tching at them about how much I need. That's wrong, and something I need to stop on my own. I am the only person responsible for me, and I need to remember that, and really, really learn it- live it.
I haven't lost any friends in the process of all of this, and have managed to make one. I'm not committing to anything, but it's nice to have a man in my life who doesn't drink. Seeing as I don't waste my time being friends (or dating) boys, the term man applies to all my brothers/male friends/ex boyfriends/etc.
I feel like I've come home in a way, with all of this. It's a relief, which I didn't expect. I expected lots and lots and lots of pain for a while. I'm glad I miscalculated that. I'm at peace, in a way. I don't feel like I'm hurting anyone, because I can be honest with all the people I'm close to right now. I'm not hurting myself trying to fit myself into ideals that I want to fit in, but am truly not comfortable with. It's really an incredible feeling.
I have learned a lot over these last couple months, particularly about myself. I am grateful for that. Whether or not I choose to be in a relationship at any point in the next 225 days before I leave here is not something I'm going to attempt to predict, nor will anyone else's advice sway me. I want to take my time, I want to go at my pace, however fast or slow that may be. I know there's a few things I want to change the next time around, and I need to find the strength within myself that I may be able to implement those things fully.
To my King... thank you for everything you have taught me. I am grateful for your friendship, guidance, and continued support, no matter what the end result is. I am lucky to have a friend like you. As I said before, we are friends first, last and always. There will be no changing that now. Mizpah.

Family

I'm selfish.
I've let him put up with my issues for nearly two months so I would feel secure, so I would have someone to call family.
I can't keep putting him through that.
I can't keep questioning things.

Shut Down

I'm focused on my goals right now, everything else is peripheral.
People like telling me I'm wrong, they like telling me my priorities are out of whack. Well, that must suck for them, then, because they're still MY PRIORITIES.
I'm not disrespectful and I'm not going to do the wrong thing.
I am, however, going to be a little more focused for a while.
This is what a friend of mine used to refer to as my shut-down mode. Interesting.

Mizpah

Some things began to come together for me today.
I've been doing a lot of spiritual reading lately, though more about the three major faiths than that which I find myself holding to. "A History Of God" is an excellent book. I own the Quran, the Torah, the New Testament, as well as the Kitab-i-aqdas. I am fascinated by religions, faith, spirituality, and how it has all progressed.
Today, though, I think the beginning of some larger things came together for me in my personal life. I have tried to be the good woman, as well as the independent one. It's a harder balance than one might think. I know only what my heart tells me, and, well, sometimes we disagree. I see what I want, and I see what might be, and those two things don't always line up quite as I'd like. I know I will not give up on what I have without a hell of a lot more reason. I will protect it. I keep my personal life quiet so others won't be able to directly influence this. I keep this quiet and hidden so that I can heal without fear of repricussion from my peers and seniors if my relationship doesn't work out. I hide so that there will be no questions to answer, no sideways glances, no second thoughts.
My faith isn't as strong as I'd like. Should this not work out, there are choices I've made this time around that I won't be willing to make again, despite what most would assume might be my only choice. There's too much to lose making this decision. I can't regret what has so far taken me to the right places, but it's not something I will risk doing again, no matter the effort it will take.
I will let everyone continue to whisper, because it's not what any of them think.
It's better this way.
Physically, I have been more and more determined to get in better shape. I got that 256 while still on recovery from profile, I know that, come spring, I can get that 300. There's no reason I shouldn't.
Professionally, for once, I think I might like to slow down a bit. I'm looking at some goals I'd rather do before I get my stripes. I'm trying to determine the easiest way to combine flight medic with duty station of choice, and this is more complicated than I'd imagined. Or maybe I'm just looking from the wrong angle. I had wanted flight medic so badly, but allowed myself to be talked out of it- it was too hard, etc.
I refuse to back down this time.
I'm going to figure this out. I'm going to put the three things that I need to focus on right now into a plan, make them work together somehow. I'm going to get this right this time.
By any means necessary.

Legacy

What will be left when I'm not left anymore?
Does everyone wonder this, or is it a unique question?
It's odd to me that I have a birthday coming up, and, instead of plans or gifts, I'm contemplating ends.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not suicidal or even considering the fact that my end may for any particular reason may be in even the next few years. That's not it at all.
I just have been thinking about my life lately, and wondering what impact it will make, and what impact it will have made by the time it's all said and done.
I have images in my head, maybe some of them are from books or movies, like that Leonardo Di'Caprio Romeo & Juliette, or the scene from Around The World... Or maybe it got into my head from the MLK jr biography I read as a kid... Some big old Southern chapel somewhere, with someone singing loudly, Amazing Grace, perhaps. Or maybe a Beatles song. Or a Baha'i spiritual type song.
None the less, knowing the people I have, who would be there? Would I have made a difference to them? Or would it be the people who feel they are obligated to make an appearance, as it's been at so many funerals and other big deal ceremonies? Would it just be a few people from my family- my parents, my sister... Or would it be people I'd met throughout my life, people of different races, backgrounds, not just military, either... Would it be the memorial service of someone who made a change in the world? I love the quotes about how a small effort can have a powerful impact.... realistically, though, each of us can only do so much.
I've come a long way as a person, but that's just me.
I don't have the first clue how long I'll live or what my ultimate limitations will prove to be.
I just need to figure out exactly how I want to leave this world, what my legacy will be...

Trusting The Shadows

Why is it so hard to let go of the past and trust someone who hasn't given me any reason not to?
Why can't I believe that he really won't hurt me?
He's done everything right, what is it I keep wanting him to prove?

The Music To Your Soul, Child

Here's a challenge: Spend 24 hours really listening to the words in your favorite music, or at least what you listen to the most right now, and figure out how listening to that, how the words, how the emphasis is making you a better person.
No, seriously.
Does listening to 50 Cent make you a better person? How?
I've fallen clean in love with Michael Franti's music, because so much of it has such a strong, truly beautiful message about the world, and still mostly has that clean, real hip hop beat. India Arie, Joss Stone, Erykah Badu and Floetry are other favorites, but for much more obvious reasons. M. Dot, who published over at Racialicious, as well as the normal spot over at Model Minority, brings up a great point; how are we investing so much in a music industry who's battle cry is 'We don't give a damn' when so much is going on in our world that's working against us? What would happen if we put as much energy into bettering the world around us as we do in saying we don't give a damn about it?
This is the root of my challenge.
No matter how much we swear words have no power, we continually prove ourselves wrong. The men in our lives wouldn't dare call us a bitch or cunt (or not to our faces if they did) and us lighter-skinned folks steer clear of the "n word" like it would bring the wrath of God upon is- because it would probably come awful close.
Words have power.
What we put in our minds affects what comes out of our mouths.
What comes out of our mouths affects the world.
So, what does your iPod say about who you're trying to become?

Discipline in Youth

I'm seeing a lot of articles about children lately.
There's this one about Camilla, the Duchess of Cornwall, speaking out against explicit music videos. The article makes a good point about youth not really having the discipline to say they don't like these sort of displays. I don't know many teenagers who aren't sucked in to the 'nudity is cool and grown-up' mentality.
Then there's girl effect dot org. This site is riddled with fascinating statistics about how vital women and girls really are to a society. Females, on average, reinvest 90% of their income into their families, while males are at 30-40%.
This picture is a sweet reminder of the lives that are continuing amidst the wars. Children and families still live in these places, forced, I would imagine, to take sides on a daily basis. None the less, life goes on, no matter what is happening around you.
I'm wondering where my place in this world is, and how I might make it better.

Growth

I suppose it's a periodic thing at this point, but I'm going through one of my dark times, which, I can only hope, will end up with me learning some things about myself. I'm not sure what exactly the obstacle is right now, but I know my anxiety is surfacing in a new way. In the most positive of views, I think that maybe this is that last burst of the true problems with it, as I have definitely come a long way.
I've gotten side tracked, to some degree. I've lost focus.
My other half says I need a hobby, and I don't disagree. There are a lot of things I need to improve about myself, though. I wonder sometimes where the line is between a hobby that helps me and just plain ol' helpin me.
There's an article about an actress preparing to play the role of one of the Queens of England I stumbled across earlier. Amongst the points of the article, the actress mentions that the young princesses are usually sent to ballet classes to help them move gracefully. This reminded me of the concept of slowing down, and how much I'm reminded that it would probably serve to improve my quality of life greatly. And how much I agree. I don't relax well. I sure don't have an easy time moving/thinking/speaking slowly, either.
Then there's this article about Haiti and the children there. It's interesting to realize how far I've come, and how much I still think that my life doesn't really make that much difference in the world, even after so much change. I can't help but wonder if having a family is what I'm destined to do, or if this Army thing is even in the long-term Ultimate plan. There is plenty that is not within my view at this point, that's for sure, but I need to get my head together and come up with a plan that I will be happy with in the long-run.
Spiritually, there's still a lot I feel I have left to learn. I have a lot of spiritual studies I plan to do.
Relationship-wise, things are going well, but my feeling lost can't help my relationship.
I am grateful for The Royal Family, my people back home, my friends and all the people who've had my back lately. I have my difficult moments often enough that I am aware of them, but these people love me none the less.
I am looking forward to being home.

The Ghost Of Turkeys Past

It's Thanksgiving Day here in the Republic Of Korea.
I'm feeling a little under the weather, presumably from being stretched thin these last few weeks. It truly feels like I've been a month without a day off. I can't say I'm burnt out- I've been burnt out before, this is not the same thing. This is just really tired, and trying to heal. The anxiety I've been struggling with for so long seems to have surfaced all at once. I've spent years trying to heal and control it, and now, just as it felt as though it had gotten so much better, the remains of it seem to have floated to the top and be there for everyone to see.
When a friend reaches for something too near my head, I flinch, some part of me expecting to be struck.
I've had a couple unexpected anxiety attacks, and I still can't figure out what caused them.
I may be improving, but it's a hard path to healed.

The Line In The Sand Blowing In The Wind

I need to be independent. I know this, without a doubt.
It's a fact of life in the military that couples will be seperated at times, married or not. There's just no avoiding it. It's this reason that I struggle with what I should be able to expect from my signifigant other when we actually are together. I struggle with the reason I even want a relationship with anyone if I'm going to have to do it all myself eventually anyway. I have plenty of people in my life who care about me, and there's not a doubt in my mind that I will always have someone there for me when I need them. There's no obvious needs I have that I don't know how to accomodate on my own at this point. Why involve someone else?
My heart and mind struggle with this frequently. Regardless of where my heart is, it's going to hurt sometimes. I know this, it's a fact of life. I can handle that. What I can't handle, what I can't understand to save my life, is why I feel the need to give someone else that much power over me. Why do I still want that? Why do I have my heart broken and still want to love and be loved? Why can't I be one of those people who are enough for themselves?
I'm so ashamed of feeling this way, but it's there, and I just can't deny it anymore. I don't know what I should be doing with all of this.

The Ignorance Rap Is A Wrap

I'm tired of it.
I'm tired of religion being to blame for everything, and, at the same time, being completely ignored. When I go into the PX and buy a Quran, along with the book A History Of God, well, I don't like the fact that I get dirty looks, or have a woman back off four feet from me when she sees it in my basket. These people who are judging an action, or, in other cases, a person completely unknown to them who they run into in a public place, by their religion probably know about as much about the Muslim faith as they do the Baha'i faith, or the Hindu faith, or most others. I suspect many who condemn are less than thoroughly familiar with the religion or faith that they claim.
GOOGLE IT, PEOPLE.
BUY A BOOK.
STOP LIVING IN IGNORANCE!!!!!
I'm so tired of this crap!!!
I am not condoning any one's actions. I do not agree with violence, I do not agree with murder, I do not agree with that nonsense. I do not agree with HATE.
I do not agree with HATE and I do not agree with IGNORANCE.
I especially do not agree with those who use their ignorance to excuse their hate.
The media is not a source of reason, it is a source of opinion. Some of the opinion has fact and maybe even a little reason mixed in there. As human beings, we have, not the right, but the responsibility to separate these things and to judge what is fact and what is opinion for ourselves, and to refrain from passing judgment on others.
I'm sure I'll get lit up for this one, so go on ahead.

My Family And Being A Lady

I heard something recently, about people learning to accept peace into their lives.
That's where I'm at now. I'm LEARNING to allow peace into my life.
Things have been so chaotic and busy and so many other things, I really didn't have a place in my life for peace or calm, I snatched a few personal minutes of it where I could, and kept moving. Now that things are starting to calm down, now that I'm really getting a grip on my world, I'm having to learn to let things be calm, and to trust that they can be. My family here, my brothers, they're absolutely instrumental in all of this. I love these guys, and I can't imagine having come through all this so well without them.
I am also, though not too gracefully, learning to, well, be a damn lady.
I'm not saying I've been a whore or brute or anything like that. I'm just in a place in my life where I am beginning to see the value and reason of the quiet strength I've admired in many women, despite my previous lack of understanding as to why they would choose this path. I will be 24 years old in January, and am blown away looking at my past at all that has changed. I'm nothing like the woman I was even a year ago. I've grown and changed in ways I never could have understood or imagined. I'm proud of myself and how far I've come, and am honestly looking forward to the future.
I see these women that I have admired so much for so much of my life, and realize now that there are, in fact, as much as I hate to admit it, some situations it is better to accept that quiet, graceful strength, to not kick down the doors because you can, and to work a little less loudly to make the changes you know you can.
It's a process, but I'm getting there.

The Book Deal

I've decided I'm going to actually write a book, like I'd wanted to at one point.
I really liked the way Maya Angelou's was a few short stories, and, seeing as I have the attention span of a ferrett on crystal meth most days, it seems like the best plan of action.
I've got to get more female friends in my life. My guys rock, but, dammit, I need to have girls around too!!!!!

The Number Of Blessings

I am sore, stressed, frightened and more than a little tired. I must be the luckiest woman in the world.
I am sore from taking a PT test I did better than I ever have on- and have all the ability in the world to take.
I am stressed because I have a job I enjoy and immerse myself completely in, while plenty of people are having a hard time finding any job at all.
I am frightened because I have something to lose.
I am tired because all of these things keep my days full and busy.

This is only a brief overview of my blessings. I am very busy these days, but have noticed that I have become a little on the ungrateful side, and I don't like that. Ungrateful to God, ungrateful to myself, ungrateful to my friends and family, and ungrateful to those around me in general.
I needed the wake up call.
I also noticed, as I told a good friend of mine the other evening, that I have, at some point, become afraid to smile. I'm not sure when or why this has happened, but I have realized that it takes concious effort on my part to give a true smile. If that's not a sign of trouble brewing, I don't know what is.
It is not a bad thing that I see these things, because at least I see them. Maybe these things have always been this way, and I am just now noticing them. Either way, I am seeing places where improvements can be made, and laying the blueprints just can't be negative.

Roots

I called my sister today.
It was nice to talk to her again, but weird in plenty of ways.
I hear my parents in my choice of words sometimes, but talking to her, I realize how much I really have changed since I left that life. My own words seemed so unfamiliar as I spoke. There was a part of the Maya Angelou book I just finished that said something about that it is not that you can never go home, it is more than you can never leave home, because those places, people and situations are carried with you for the rest of your life. I suppose that is true. I suppose the memories and pains and joys I've had will be with me for the rest of my life. Everything will continue to change, as it always has and always will, and so will I.
I just wonder, sometimes, what exactly it is that's made me the way I am.
Much of who I am, I have been since before I can remember why.
I remember being very young- maybe 3, maybe younger- and being very upset by the concept of race. I corrected adults from a very young age. That man was not black- I knew what black was, I had owned many boxes of Crayolas- he was dark brown, so why did they insist on calling him black, and why did that matter? White was an even bigger issue for me. Plain paper was white, I was not that color, nor was I plain. I grew up in a Mexican and Apache area- there were very few of us 'white' people around. I don't remember race or the way people spoke about it being something I just accepted, ever. I remember in 2nd grade discovering that Martin Luther King Jr's birthday was the day before mine, and having an immediate fascination with him from that point forward. What about before that, though? What created my inherent dislike of race at such a young age?
I have heard some very racist people use excuses about being molested or raped by someone of this race or that to explain away their clear and wrong prejudice, which is another rant entirely, but what of the opposite?
Beyond this one thing, I have always had a strong sense of justice, a love of music that my parents have assured me goes back before my actual birth, and my intense love of all things bright and colorful.
There's many things, perhaps some things I, myself, have failed to even realize.
What is it that dictates these things?
I am somewhat like my parents, but different enough from each and both of them that I know genetics surely cannot be completely responsible.

On another note, I had something pretty random but very meaningful come to my attention last night... My first pregnancy, the daughter I speak of now and again, Astaria... She was due April 4th, near as I could ever figure, and I always looked at that as her birthday. Last night, as I lay reading my Maya Angelou book (A Letter To My Daughter- highly recommended!), I read a passage about her friendship with Corretta Scott King. She speaks about Dr. Martin Luther King's death, and the fact that he died on her birthday. She writes about how Mrs. King and she would exchange flowers and phone calls every year on that day---- April 4th. How I have read biographies of Dr. King's life and never before realized this coincidence, I may never know. It was, at once, both startling and soothing.

It is lunch, and I am feeling sick, sore and very, very tired. I am going to lie down for a nap and hope there are answers on their way to the many questions in my mind.

Creation

I've had a lot of thoughts, a lot of ideas, and a lot of words flowing through my mind these past few days. I spent a good hour or so writing in my journal last night. It's been a while since the words flowed like that, for no audience, for no purpose other than to flow. I consider myself a writer by nature- I certainly had no say in the fact that it's the only way words formulate properly for me- but, for the last, well, year I suppose, the words have been much harder to force. I can't put my finger on a particular time when they got stuck or what it was that made them that way, but I know that I used to be able to write six or seven blog or journal entries in a day, and still go to bed with ideas bouncing around in my head like ping-pong balls.
Music, I think, is some of what's helped me find that release again. Some of it has also been a lot of prayer and a lot more reading than I've done in a while. Books, I've missed you so!!! I've been devouring them lately, every chance I get- not to say I've had a lot of free time, as I can only dream of that kind of day lately. Every free moment I do have, though, my nose is buried in whatever book I happen to have nearby, just like when I was a child. I remember Mrs. Miller, my third grade teacher, trying to explain to me and my parents that I should not be reading during math class. She couldn't entirely be angry at me for it, as I truly loved books and always have, but I also wasn't paying attention to the class she was teaching. It's rather amusing, in retrospect.
More than just reading, though, I am really enjoying the books I am choosing to read. Nora Roberts can kiss my butt. She is an amazing writer, but she is more story teller. There's nothing wrong with that, of course, but those who speak those humble, but often very weighted truths are more what I've been interested in as of late. I've been reading a lot of religious material, and have recently stumbled across a book by Maya Angelou, and think I may have fallen in love with her words! She is a deeply truthful writer- she is one of few who is so entangled in the story she is telling that she seems to forget to push her words.... I don't know if I can describe it well, really. Most writers have this element of display to their works. They use words they know their audience can grasp, words their audience will associate with what they're trying to make them feel. With Ms. Angelou, though, it's just simple, and very real. There's nothing but her and the page. I admire her for that. I am very intrigued by what trait she must have to accomplish such a thing.
Ms. Angelou aside, I've found a lot of very basic things about myself that I seem to have forgotten, lately. My creativity, or whatever it is that passes for it in my eyes, has returned, for the time, and I am enjoying it. I am enjoying finding myself taking interest in things like writing and fashion and art and photography again. I am enjoying stumbling across artists and writers and images and people the way I used to.
Some part of me is frightened that this will fade away again.
The more optimistic side of me, however, says that returning to yourself is one of the later stages of healing.
"Suppose she is right. She's very intelligent and she often said she didn't fear anyone enough to lie. Suppose I really am going to become somebody. Imagine.' At that moment, when I could still taste the red rice, I decided the time had come when I should cut down on dangerous habits like smoking, drinking and cursing. Imagine, I might really become somebody. Someday." -Maya Angelou
What a frightening thought, becoming somebody.

Surprise

Race is on my mind again.
I get the bizarre looks every other time I open my mouth: the new female in the unit is shocked that I speak the way I do, or that I don't segregate myself because I'm white, or because I listen to gospel as much as I listen to hip hop or country or soul. Honestly, lately, I've listened to gospel more than I've listened to anything else. "Open The Eyes Of My Heart" by Alan Jackson is my favorite, out of what I have on my iPod currently.
Sometimes the looks bug me, sometimes they don't, other times I'm proud to be outside the box people assume I must fit in.
I'm frustrated, though, with things I hear and see. I don't define this thing called racism very well, you see. We all have our pre-concieved notions based on what we know, I'm sure, but where does the line between true prejudice and mere pre-concieved notion fall?
Let me explain- someone who is prejudice is convinced, more or less past the point of any outside force being able to alter their point of view, that such a person will act a certain way, etc.
Someone who holds a pre-concieved notion, however, has had certain experiences, but is not beyond seeing that there can be exceptions or differences.
"All black men are thugs."
I've heard these words recently- I'm not about to call anyone out, but they got me thinking. These words were said by someone I really wouldn't have expected any form of prejudice from. I'm not entirely sure which side of the line my friend falls on after hearing these words, though I find, more often than not, when there's a question, I don't like the answer.
"Be careful what you wear down there in Georgia. There's an awful lot of uneducated black people there."
Those, without a doubt were racist words. Again, I won't call anyone out. However, both statements surprised me.
I suppose from all appearances, I'm an odd person to be talking about race or even prejudice. Skinny little white girl, raised by a lawyer and two nurses, seems unlikely I'd know. The tattoos, well, that just feeds into the 'white' stereo type, I think. I see the look in people's faces. I see the black mothers give me questioning or flat-out irritated looks when I smile at their child, as I would nearly any child.
I wonder, sometimes, if the fact that a 'white girl' is so entangled in this sort of thing emotionally is almost counter-productive, or perceived as disrespectful or ignorant by some people. No doubt there are plenty who have experienced more prejudice than I have. I don't intend to negate anyone's experiences or feelings, but there is so much about such things- on both sides, truthfully- that I simply do not understand.
So many of us feed into these stereotypes. So many of us don't take the small steps to change the perceptions that we could.
I wonder if I am making a difference, or if I'm just blowing hot air.

"I gave birth to one child, a son, but I have thousands of daughters. You are Black and White, Jewish and Muslim, Asian, Spanish-speaking, Native American and Aleut. You are fat and thin and pretty and plain; gay and straight, educated and unlettered, and I am speaking to you all. Here is my offering to you." -Maya Angelou

The Strength Of Saturn

I am slowly learning what it feels like to be part of something that has taken time to build.
I am slowly realizing that, no matter how much work it takes, knowing that someone will be there when you're done doing what you must, well, is kinda worth it.
I had a wonderful weekend, and am beyond grateful for the chance to truly relax, and be away from everyone and everything that had been bugging me. Just to be in my own little world for a couple days was incredibly relaxing. The Busan Aquarium was hit-or-miss at best, but not having to rush or take care of anyone but myself was awesome.
I have a PT test first thing this morning, so it's going to be dinner, some writing, and maybe a movie, but definitely early to bed tonight.
Plenty of stretching and water.

...Saturn, for those of you who are wondering, is the Roman God of time, if I recall correctly. Either way, that was the aim of the title.

Sunshine And The Storm

I'm not looking forward to some of the things I'm going to have to handle soon.
I have to have another procedure done at 121, an outpatient procedure, which means they get all the pain and torture out of the way in less than a 2 hour block of time, and I get to go home and suffer on my own afterward.
This is my second time, but, this time, the girl I'd considered my sister won't be here to stand next to me while I face it. You're damn right I'm scared.
I had a rough day today, and the news of that just really brought me to my knees.
I'm doing okay, believe it or not. More than a few people have said I sound very down lately. I've had a lot on my plate, and I've been very tired, but I really am doing alright.
Work is going well, I love most of the people I work with, and the others just learn, eventually, to leave me alone. Everything will be alright, and I know that.

Determination

I'm hard headed.
Does this surprise anyone?
I've been stubborn as they come since conception, and this probably will not change any time soon.
I'm giving him the chance he's asking for, the chance he's doing everything in his powers to earn. I'm proud of him, honestly. He is showing, more than anyone ever has, that he realizes what I'm worth. The part I didn't see coming was how hard it would be to let it go, and how difficult it would be to accept someone I'd convinced myself could never be the right one. Am I still seeing that there's a definite risk involved? Absolutely. Is he doing everything in his powers to minimize that risk? Without a doubt. No relationship comes without risk. Some come with more than others. I've never struggled this much to overcome fear in a relationship. I've never worked this hard to keep someone, or to let them keep me.
He reminds me to pray, reminds me that he cares about me and doesn't want anyone else, and his goals and plans are compatible with what I want in life. There's plenty of obstacles, but I've got to try. I've never pushed this hard, and no one's ever pushed back the way he has. I said 'Leave me alone' he said 'Not until you tell me you don't want me anymore.'
I may be difficult, but I'm not blind.
"Love is pushed, but never pushed away." -Chaplain Brown
It will be a while before I put this relationship in the spotlight. There's no need to add stress to a new relationship. Just know that I am taken, and I am happy.

Darkness and Right

I'm torn beyond belief.
I can stick it out with someone my gut tells me is going to hurt me, after not sticking it out this far ever before and risk everything or, well, not.
Some days I think I can do anything.
Today, well, it's going to take some convincing.
My heart is hurting, I am painfully tired, and just feeling weak in general.
I have a PT test this coming Monday.
I've got a lot of work to do.
I'm not sure how well I'll do on the PT test, and I need to be double-timing the correspondence courses and studying for the board. I really need a good PT score for promotion points, but, hell, my profile doesn't expire til Wednesday. There's a PT test being given Monday, though, and I need to take one. I don't think I'll get too much more ready than I am before the winter gets truly painfully cold.
I have to pull some motivation and bearing out of somewhere, today, and I'm just not sure where I'm going to find it.
Lots of prayers today. Lots of water. Probably more than a little Motrin, too.

Motrin For The Soul

Motrin and water cures everything.
Almost.
I could really use an anti-inflammatory for my soul right now.
Get the anger and pain just calmed down enough that I can see what the real problem is and work on healing that, instead of just battling with the symptoms all the time.
I've come a long way since, well, every other day of my life, I guess.
I've been sober more than 7 months now. I will have been sober 8 come November 21st.
That's a huge accomplishment.
I have been in the Army 2 years now, and will likely be going to the promotion board come January. I will be participating in my first reenlistment in the next week or so, whenever the paperwork comes though. My career has already given me an awful lot of experience that I couldn't have managed in the civilian world.
I have overcome the biggest- or what I hope are the biggest- struggles that I'll have to face with my PTSD. Anyone who says that is only something veterans can have is a liar or a fool. Many of the veterans who I've worked with have supported me whole-heartedly in this statement, and more than a few have seen my expression changed when anxiety was taking over and immediately recognized the expression. The thousand-yard stare is not just a military thing, folks. I'm proud of how much I've done to help myself heal.
There are still battles yet to be won, mostly relating around much more personal things, spiritual and physical things. I have come to a place where I believe it is time to start really fighting this battle, as it will, without a doubt, positively impact the others I have come so far with. No battle is without consequence in other battles- some of these battles cannot be fought or won without the others. The war I face may be settling down, but it is not done. I may never be satisfied with how far I've come, and maybe this war is just a part of life for me, but I have to believe that the worst has past, and that the next phase of my life is one of unadulterated healing and learning, of recooperation, rather than simply slapping tournaquets on arterial bleeds.
I have to keep the faith, and to re-learn what that faith means.
Subida Y Supera- Rise And Overcome

Gypzy, Daughter Of Tumbleweed

Introspection.
I look at my Daddy, and I am proud to see that I am a lot like him.
I have always been a Daddy's girl, and that will never change.
I have been running wild for nearly 10 years now.
In July, I will return to the place where I was brought into this world.
I haven't been there for 12 years, and it will be 13 before I see that place again.
My daddy is there, just as he was when I was a child. He works in the hospital, and lives in some tiny little apartment that could desperately use a woman's touch, just as he always did. (Sorry, Daddy, but you're a bachelor, it's just part of the deal.)
I'm looking forward to it, but, at the same time, there is little that scares me more.
Coming full circle is a terrifying experience.
None the less, I have no doubt in my mind it is exactly where I was intended to end up. Ft Hood has become home, and I will do little but miss my folks there. However, there is something necessary in returning to the place I was born. I've lived in 10 states now, and two countries. It's about time I went back, as an adult, and remembered where I came from. I also want to go to my stepfather's grave, as I feel like an entirely different person than I was when he died, as if this person I am never really got to say goodbye to him at all.
I will never be anything but a gypsy, la gitana, but even the more traditional gypsies needed time to remember where the came from and who they were. It's my time.

Subida Y Supera- Mi Corazon

Every new beginning is some other beginning's end....
Closing Time. I haven't heard that song in quite a while.

Some things changed for me last night. It started with my heart breaking, and, well, the realizations that came with that. There's nothing I go through that I won't learn from. I have lived many lifetimes in this one, and this much I know about myself.
I learned something about trusting people last night too- turns out there are still people out there who can be trusted and taken at their word. Don't get any big ideas, I'm never going to be an inherently trusting person, but having someone there for me last night, having someone THERE FOR ME- not trying to get or gain anything from me, just there to be what I needed them to be in a dark time, that was an overwhelmingly positive experience.
My heart still aches, and I suppose it will for a time. None the less, I will not be held down or back by it. I will pray for the ability to truly forgive, and to release all the anger and pain, until that ability comes. Until then, I will remain strong as I ever was, and will lean on those who are strong enough to help me when I can't.
I'm not the same person I was even 6 months ago, and I see this reflected every day. I'm proud of who I am, and who I'm becoming. I will overcome this, just as I have overcome other trials in my life. I know in my heart of hearts that I gave this my all, in a way I have never done before. I am proud of that, even if it had to come to a rather painful end. I will not let this take away my friend, even if it took away someone I'd hoped would be much more than that.
There are worst things in this world than a broken heart- not many, but there are a few.
Supida Y Supera.

Struggle

Some days, it seems like the pain is just a revisited memory.
On those days, I want to run very far, very quickly from those things that seem to trigger that revisited memory.

Ignorance really is bliss.

Blessed And Proud

I'm going to Fort Bliss. I can't tell you what made me sure that was the right decision. I spent some time thinking about it, almost aimlessly, and that is the conclusion that I came to. It feels right, and I gave my retention NCO the final word on it today. I'll be reenlisting Monday.
I'm reading another one of those books I get dirty or just plan weird looks for reading in public. "Our Voices" By Amanda Johnson. It's cover reads "Issues Facing Black Women In America; Racism, sexuality, marriage, singleness, single parenting, the church, finances, spirituality, health and self-esteem'. Honestly, it irritates me a little bit that it's marketed based on race. Racism can- shockingly enough- be addressed without being marketed to one group or another. It's really strange to me to think that any publication that specifically addresses racism should be marketed specifically to ONE RACE. Isn't that kind of ass backwards? Just saying.
Anyway, dirty looks be damned, it's a good book. I've been looking at a lot of Spirituality-and-Feminism type stuff lately. It's really hard to believe in something these days, and it's even harder to do when no one around you seems to have that. Those around me who have their beliefs generally hold beliefs very different from mine, or different enough to make it obvious. I've been trying really hard to pray more. I've had someone reminding me to pray before I eat, as I've never quite gotten into that habit, and I'd really like to. I pray at night, and some mornings, but not nearly as much as I feel is right. My beliefs are very important to me, and I find myself more and more interested in things having to do with how to make that stronger. I have someone in my life right now who's being way more encouraging of that than I had expected.
When I do finally settle down, it needs to be with someone I can talk about God with, someone I can ask to pray with me, and someone who will do the same. I have repeated a story I heard before about a minister, during a marriage ceremony, using a braid to demonstrate what marriage is made of. There are two blue strands and a white one. The two blue strands are the husband and wife, the white one is God. Without all three, the braid will simply be two strings next to one another. That's not the marriage I want. Regardless of the formality of it, I won't raise children in a home where God isn't openly discussed, or where prayer isn't common. I want my children to understand faith, and life, and hope. I want to be able to ask my husband to pray with me. I want to know that he has faith, like I do. I don't want to be alone in my prayers.
I am learning so much about myself right now, I am so proud of how much I've grown up, how far I've come in this last year... I'm not the same person I used to be, and I'm very, very happy about that. I will never feel satisfied with who I am, I will always want more from myself. Maybe, though, just maybe, I'm getting the hang of patience and faith, and trust.... Maybe things will start getting a little bit easier for me, maybe it won't be so hard to remember faith in the dark moments soon. Maybe I'm finally learning that lesson I've been reaching for for such a long time now.
It's been a while since I've lost control, I'm really hoping this is the turning point. I know I can do this, I know I can over come this.

Confetti

I've decided that the stuff falling through the cracks is confetti and I'm having a party! ~Betsy Cañas Garmon,
This is my quote for the week. I barely slept all weekend, which means my anxiety is all sorts of pissed the hell off at me today, and I'm fighting it every which way. That's fine, though. This, too, shall pass. I'm happy today because my NCO is coming back off leave and I don't think I've ever been happier to have someone inspect my room before it was clean as when he came around. He won't be around long, but it's really nice to know that, at least for this week, that I have someone who will be around, well, to help me catch all this damned confetti. Hell, even if it was just a day, that's a day less stress, and I am grateful for it! I'm already feeling zombie-ish, so I will be struggling today, but it won't last. I'll be alright.

Shadows And Doubts

I don't remember the first time I was molested.
I remember the second time, and both the rapes.
Yes, it's that kind of night tonight, but it's not like the others have been.
The therapy has helped me a great deal. I've gotten to the point of recognizing when my actions are in response to anxiety/PTSD, and, more and more often, I see the feelings coming on, before a situation even arises to make me aware of it.
I shut down when I am overwhelmed. I'm told it is a fairly common reaction. I've been lied to before, though. I don't fight back when I am in a situation that scares me. At some point, some part of my brain decided it was better, easier, to shut down and let it happen than to go through the hell of trying to process something bad and still try to fight it.
A civilian approached me, immediately after I got off the bus at the hospital the other day. He was firing so many questions at me so rapidly, I couldn't process it fast enough to do anything but answer them automatically. I was already struggling with the anxiety, and, before I knew it, this guy had found out where I was from, what post I was stationed on, my first name, and was telling me I should come up to Yongsan for the weekend. I can't imagine having had any expression but that of a deer in the headlights on my face. He asked me for my number, which finally threw something into the barely-moving gears. I pulled out my phone to tell him he'd need to give me his, when he went off on some side tangent, only to stop dead in the middle of it and ask for my number again- at which point I was back on autopilot. I gave this complete stranger the correct phone number. Shrink says it's a perfect example of how I react, and how the anxiety takes hold of me. The fight or flight response is just gone.
I was introduced to sex before I could read. I can't remember a time in my life I could see the world without it. At age 5, I remember questioning what my long-divorced parents were doing out of sight, though it's plain as day to me now they were my parents and had plenty to discuss and fight about without my witness. I remember questioning very specific details of imaginary situations I'd made up that no child that age should have ever understood enough to think of. It's never changed. I don't know where the line is with people, I don't see the lines other people do, between what's being friendly and what's flirting, what's acceptable and what's asking for it. None the less, these are things people are unable to understand about me, and I am not very good at explaining. Frankly, I've been called a whore more than enough times for one lifetime, and I really don't intend to open myself up to anyone who's already ready to give up on me to calling me names. I've heard it all before, and I really don't care to put myself in a situation where someone I care about can make me feel worthless again.
I need someone who tells me I'm beautiful I need someone who I can talk to openly, without feeling like I'm going to be punished for my honesty, or feeling like I will hear my own thoughts about something painful reflected. I am truly my own worst critic- I'd be embarrassed for other people to see how hard I am on myself, because it truly is over doing it. I've been hard on myself my whole life, and I'm only just learning how not to do that. I'm also just learning to read people, to see their intentions, and to understand how to handle my own emotions.
I'm a very open person. I'll pretty much talk, honestly, as long as I feel someone is listening. I don't mean judging, arguing or waiting for their turn to speak.
I can't blame anyone else for today. I made the choices I made. I still, however, am pretty fuzzy about how they were viewed as wrong. Sadly, I can't say that I regret them, entirely, though, because I didn't do anything wrong, nor would I have, and here I sit alone in my room, regardless. I'm sad, but still processing all of this.

Heart And Whole

"The way you overcome shyness is to become so wrapped up in something that you forget to be afraid." -Lady Bird Johnson
That was my quote for the week this week.
I think it worked.
What I've started doing (or attempting to, as circumstances allow) is journaling (on here or in my actual journal, depending on what I have to say, and whether or not it is public material) in the morning and the evening. It's helping a lot. That was a PTSD/anxiety-related suggestion from SGM B. As always, the man knows what he's talking about.
I'm also picking a quote each week, something related to something I'm struggling with (google rocks) and placing it on my google calendar, so that every time I update it or refer back to it, the whole week has the quote visible. It's a great reminder, and helps keep my mentality positive.
I'm on a profile, as of Wednesday, for my back. It's basically an at-my-own pace profile, which gives me the freedom to do all the working out I can, without risking injury due to unit PT pushing my limits. I did PT in the gym this morning, and smoked myself royally. I'm sore today, from it, which means tomorrow I'll hurt worse, but I didn't over do my back, while still getting abs, thighs, cardio, and upper body done. I also am doing a lot of extra stretching. I'm really proud of myself. I have a semi-goal of a 300 right after coming off profile. To be honest, it's not realistic, but I'd lose my mind if I got my first 300 that way. I'd be thrilled.
I still want my corporal really badly, but, well, I think the last company really got me out of feeling that was possible/reasonable. I want corporal despite it being known as the 'bitch rank' of the Army, because not everyone gets it. To hold that rank would mean more to me than my e5 ever can, because I know I can make e5. I have, honestly, seen some truly bad leaders wear that rank, some soldiers with no leadership position or experience at all. Corporal is a very big deal to me, though I see more and more how rarely it is given here, which makes it seem more unattainable, but also more valuable, at the same time.
I guess we'll see.
Top says Soldier Of The Month Board December, Promotion Board December, and I better have my Correspondence Courses maxed, of course. That 300 PT Score would REALLY help!!

The Government And Gabbing

Okay, this is just ridiculous.
People are throwing a fit over the President playing basketball with only males?
Seriously?
Most of the women who've made it to the White House probably don't care that much about basketball or golf, guys. Get over it.
In any military work place, most of the women still don't have an interest in sports, and we're in the most physical line of work there is.
People, leave my Commander In Chief alone.
I'm tired of hearing petty gripes.

Hey, Ladies! Our Revolution

Really interesting article over at Time Magazine today about the changes in society. It's incredible to see how far women have come in only a couple decades.
Nearly half of all medical and law degrees now go to women- in 1970 it was at 10%.
In 1972, 7% of high school athletes were female, which has increased to 42%.
It wasn't any surprise when a woman was being paid less than a man, because she would only be working for pocket money- her husband was the primary bread winner, and nobody thought twice about this.
By the end of the year, it's expected that there will be more women in the workforce than men. This, my friends, is a first.
It's interesting to see all of this from the perspective of a woman in the military. While still a predominantly male culture, the impact we've made on the service is plainly visible to anyone and everyone. Every soldier knows who their Equal Opportunity Representitive is in their unit, and some words simply aren't used. A promotion isn't likely to go to a male first, and rarely does one hear that a leader is sexist. The punishment for this is swift and severe, and unquestioned. It isn't done.
I'm very proud of these statistics.
While some insurance companies still consider cesarean sections, domestic abuse and rape pre-existing conditions, and are therefore issues for a new policy, we have a hell of a hold on the industry as a whole. Ladies, we officially run this ish.
Now, here's my question: When we've come this far, why are we still so damn mean to each other? Why do we not take better care of ourselves and others?
In a startling estimate, mental health issues will be the second leading cause of death and disability by 2020. Yet we refuse to acknowledge we need to take better care of ourselves.
Thanks to Siren's Magazine for the heads up.

Mi Hija, Mi Corazon

She would have turned 8 years old April 4th.
How can I miss someone I never laid eyes on so damn much?
She was the product of a rape when I was 14 years old.
She was an unexpected after shock of losing my virginity the hard way.
She was my daughter.
Nothing has ever hurt worse than losing Astaria Rhiannon.
I see so many girls- most of them so young, nineteen or twenty, maybe, seeing their status updates. They got pregnant with their boyfriend's kid, some of them happily, others not, some get married, some don't.
It seems like every day someone else has come up pregnant.
Not that I hate them for it, it's just so hard to see.
I miscarried Astaria after a few months, I still remember waking up to it, and the nightmares that haunted me before I woke up to reality.
I was young, maybe my body couldn't handle it, or maybe it was the medication. I don't know, and never will.
I know that Mother's Day and April 4th, and many other, unexpected days, my heart hurts for something I can't quite define. I didn't want children until I felt her growing inside of me. I still didn't want to get married, even after acknowledging how much I wanted a child.
I miss that little girl, the one I've dreamt about so many times, the one I swear I've seen grow up in my dreams.
I tell myself she's up there with her great grand parents and her Grandpa Bob.
I tell myself she's happy.
I can't convince myself that it doesn't hurt, though.
It's been nine years since I woke up to the blood and pain. At least the blood stopped.

Someday- What This Woman Wants

I want to hear I'm beautiful.
I want to understand.
I want my love to be accepted, not punished.
I want patience, and someone to care for me enough to explain where they're at with me.
I want someone who trusts me, and to feel deserving of that trust.
I question myself often, too often, probably.
I have little doubt in my mind that if I am unfit for love right now, it it because I haven't yet learned to take myself as I am, or be something kinder than my own worst critic.
When someone I care about is upset at me, it's the most painful thing in the world.
I know what I want.
I'm trying to find that place between ideal and and settling, the one called realistic, and I'm just not sure I'll get there.
I hurt.

Gypzy Blue Print

They Gypzy Oath:
I will never forget where I came from.
I will never forget those who never forgot me.
I will never leave my brother unaided.
I will never forget, though I may choose to forgive.
I will take every opportunity to heal, grow, learn and excel.
I will not accept the bare minimum from- or for- myself.
I will not mistake other's opinions of me for my own.

My lover will be my friend first.
My children will be brought up understanding faith, what it is, what it can be, and why it is essential to the human soul.
My life will be constantly emerged in art of every form: music, photography, paintings and other forms of creative visual expression, and literature.
I will never stop learning.
I will remain loyal to those who who trust me.
I will not let anyone- least of all, myself- hold me back from achieving and accomplishing anything and everything I am able and willing to.

I will, eventually, have the life I want.
Until then, I will have the patience it requires to get there.
Or, at least, do my damndest to fake it.