What A Trying Day It Was!

Good Thursday Evening to you. Its September 27, 2018 @ 21:27:43 MT and I am sitting in my chamber sucking on a wintergreen. I am content and glad to be in my special place right now. I am used to the noise inside of the chamber and it actually is so familiar that I could fall asleep in here too. The oxygen is on and I am doing great. The large ice pack is working well in keeping me cool. I also get the added bonus of the ice relaxing my aching back.

D and I worked on the garage today. We moved into this house 15 months ago and had boxes to go through but avoided it until now. We purchased the house three months ago so we knew that if we did not get to those boxes soon, we would wait months because of the cold weather coming. Our garage is insulated and has drywall but it does not have a heater. Now was the time and we did it…or at least 2/3 of the garage is done. I filled three large black bags with stuff and I condensed boxes to make the garage less cluttered. We stacked at least 10 empty large moving boxes outside as trash. Quite an accomplishment, with D and his back injury, me and my recovering foot and o yeah, I bumped my head pretty hard on the garage door. Garrett came over to help D move the storage shelves and cut down one side of one of the shelves to accommodate the garage door panels and the track of the opener. I have four large boxes of books to go through over the next week. I will sort them and then have D and Garrett bring those books upstairs that need to be in the office. We have three bookshelves in the office so I will have it arranged like a library. My OCD is pretty obvious! We are pretty proud of our accomplishments but we are beat!

What A Trying Day It Was! We listened to the hearing all day as we worked. It is truly a marked day in America’s history. D and I discussed parts of the proceedings as I processed things said by both parties. Of course many of my “terribles” got triggered as I watched and listened. I truly believe that a terrible thing happened to the lady and I know how hard it is to live life afterwards. The shame and fear and pain jump out of us throughout our lives. The event replays itself too many times to count. The smells and sounds and feelings and torment are all kept in a “terribles” box deep inside and the key that opens that box shows up in bizarre ways especially when we feel the most vulnerable. I have been blessed to be married to a man who has believed me and supported me 100% since before we were married. He has helped me multiple times overcome the demon hordes that show up to terrorize me with memories that are not just visualized but also kept inside my body. Body memories of my “terribles” are horrible. I remember years ago cutting my hair to less than a 1/2 inch all over my head. I went from long blonde hair to nothing. I was having a body memory and I was trying to get it off and out of my body by cutting my beautiful locks. I watched that lady today as she tried so hard to keep herself in one piece. It’s not easy and I felt her pain inside of my own “terribles.”

Then I listened to the man and his opening statements compelled me to believe him too. The trauma he and his family have experienced since accepting the nomination has been horrendous. This has been a terrible time for the woman and the man and each of their family members and friends.

Sexual impropriety is awful. There is always a victim and there is always a perpetrator. How could I believe both people and not point my finger at one and feel compassion for the other? I talked a lot with D about it. I truly believe that an event occurred in her life just as she described it. I also believe that the man gave his best account of what he remembers that summer, 36 years ago.

There is a book that was written in the late 80’s called Same House Different Homes. It described how siblings remember different things in an alcoholic home. One child remembers the drunkenness and elusiveness of the parent. Another remembers the family picnics. Another child doesn’t remember his childhood at all. It’s about perspective. Its about maturity. Its about birth order. Read it if you are interested. In my childhood, I was the first-born. I was also the only girl. Six boys were born after me. My parents were in their early 20’s when I came into their lives. My youngest brother was born to parents in their late 30’s. Quite a spread! My “terribles” were not done by my parents but much of my “terribles” were done at my home. That in itself is difficult to understand. My parents were not aware of the extent of my woundings until I had nearly died and what they observed for years following. My brothers formed their own opinions of my life based on their observation and their maturity. Even my closest high school friend (who is still very close to me today) had no clue of what I was going through. My trauma is my story. My trauma is my husband and my story. My trauma lives with us every day of our lives and my trauma will not overtake me. I have the support of a precious godly man who knows when to listen and when to touch my hand or shoulder and assure me that he believes me. I have the support that only D can handle because he has truly laid down his life for me. He took me into his person and we have become one. Without him I would need prescriptive medication to manage even the simplest challenges. Thank you D. I love you so much.

What A Trying Day It Was is a reality that we have learned to grow together in. Today’s hearing brought it all together for me by watching the faces of family members and friends of both the woman and the man. They are our support. Love is what was written on their faces. I know that love and I am so very grateful.

Thank you for sharing today with me.

Hugs,

Suz