I bought some new sneakers yesterday. My last (and only) pair has been falling apart over the past few months. It's been on our list to pick up another pair of sneakers and boots since... um... January.

Aren't they GORGEOUS? Ok, ok, they're sneakers. But they fit, plus slightly platform, and I'm not a woman to turn down an extra inch added to my 5'5" height. They're suede which means I shouldn't *knocks on wood* punch through the uppers in a year. I'm thrilled.

It's been an interesting month so far. I've had 3 people from my High School years pop out of the woodwork; Craig, Bill and Sarah.
Craig obviously has become a contributor here. Also, even though we live in the same city we have yet to do coffee and visit!
Bill... *laughs* well Bill and I had a pretty intense rivalry back in HS. It's awesome to be back in contact with him. He's been doing fairly well from what I gather. Doing the stuff that I was *sure* I'd be doing by now. I'm jealous, a little bit.
Sarah and I went for beer and food yesterday. You know you're having a good time and fairly comfortable when you talk about your respective bladder behaviours. :) I hope we can do it again before she heads back out of country.

That reminds me, I really should send in my bio and info to the Arts Package Grad Page. (Not that I'm a grad from there in any way other than honourary) Occasionally the boys and I will look at that page and have a mighty fine bitch session. It sounds like everyone that graduated from ECI's Arts Package now has these fabulous careers/schooling.

We're bitter. ;)

Fuck, I hate nightmares. Especially the ones where I wake up and I'm relieved to find that my pillow isn't soaked with tears.

It's fading fast now that I've been awake for 10 minutes or so. I don't remember much than the basic storyline and that FEELING.

I think the feeling is important. I haven't felt that way in a year.

Betrayal, agonizing pain and that not knowing. Powerless and out of control of everything. Not knowing what to do or where to turn. Feeling as if everything I knew was a lie and nobody would tell me the truth.

I woke up and that feeling was still there, I woke up hurting in an all too familiar way.

I forgot.

I spent every minute of every day for months feeling like that, and I forgot. Thank god.

Now, after that reminder, I am so grateful for what I have... and amazed that I survived.

Heh. Sweet.

"How are you today, Linda?"

It's a day. One of those days. One of the days when nothing seems right, or in balance, much less me. I'm feeling trapped, overwhelmed, frustrated and out of sync.

"Oh. Why?"

I don't know. I could 'work it out' and point to something specific, I have the ability to do that... but I just don't *want* to. If had to guess it could be:

- My room is a mess. My bathroom is a mess. There are dishes to be done. I did 5 loads of laundry yesterday, and there's another load there already. I feel like I'm drowning under chores. I can't function on an even keel when I'm surrounded by disorder, but I just don't feel like I can tackle the chores today. Especially since after it's clean I'll have a day (if I'm lucky) before it gets fucked up all over again.

- Mike doesn't like kite flying. Doesn't like doing it, doesn't like watching other people doing it. Mike doesn't like dancing and is uncomfortable in a dance club. Mike is a quiet man who prefers being at home and mellowing out. I knew this when we became friends, almost 2 years ago. Now, it scares me.

"That doesn't sound too good, tell me more about that point."

I give up pieces of myself in order to fit in better. In order to be accepted and wanted. I give up almost everything if I think I *have* to. Well, think is the wrong word for that, seeing as this process is something I don't consciously control. I can see me doing that now. I can see myself folding inwards AGAIN so I don't step on anyone's toes.

I haven't been dancing in months. I can't remember the last time I took *myself* out on a date. I didn't go to North Bay with the boys because Mike didn't want to and I didn't want to leave him alone. These have been my choices, MINE. But I don't like the direction I'm going in and the person I'm becoming.

Thing is, if I don't start standing up to the part of me that folds for acceptance, it'll get worse. Right now we're living in a room that was designed around me, what I needed, what I wanted. No matter what we do, it's still my room. When we move... there won't be a linda room anymore. What happens then? Do I keep hiding away the parts of me that don't seem to fit comfortably? Will I continue giving up the activities that are important to me and stay home?

"Will you?"

No. It's absolutely disrespectful of me to do this shit to Mike or myself. It's as if I'm saying that he's so shallow that he can't deal with me being me, or taking care of himself. As for me, I'm breaking a vow I made last summer.

"What was that?"

I am to never sell myself out for anything or anyone ever again. My first responsibility is to me, and my truths.

"So what now?"

I'm going to start doing the things *I* like again. Taking care of me first and foremost. The cool thing about this is, I know I'll be supported. Heh. I'm not so scared anymore.

I just finished reading Obsession by John Douglas and Mark Olshaker. It's a book about sexual predators (killers, rapists and stalkers). It's weird, it seems like everything is focusing in on sex crimes lately for me. *sighs* That sounds funny. hrm. I guess I mean more that it's as if life is pointing out stuff that I normally ignore.

Like my door. I, a smoker, live in a non-smoking household... so I go outside to smoke. I've been unlocking the door in the mornings and then locking it again when I go to bed (If I remember!). So What? Well after reading about a number of murders and rapes that have happened inside the woman's home... I've come to the realization that just leaving a door unlocked to save maybe 10 seconds is plain stupid.

Add into that that with the ownership of PtF, I now have my address easily accessible to anyone who knows how to find it. I also run a webcam, with a link on it to PtF. Do I sound paranoid? I think I do, but... which is better? A little paranoia and increased personal safety or looking cool and collected and leave myself open to something bad?

It's the mentality of "Not me, won't happen to me." that I find myself in most of the time. What's sick about that is that it HAS happened to me. I KNOW what it's like to be raped. I know what it's like to be beaten and left for dead. I live everyday with the echoes of those acts, echoes that touch everything in my life. Yet, I still think, "It won't happen to me." But it has and it can. So it's time I started making sure my personal risk level is at a more acceptable level.

*sighs* Speaking of past acts... I'm reminded of a post made on one of the Forums I frequent. Essentially the poster was annoyed at the usage of the term 'Survivor' in the context of abuse or rape. *THAT* attitude is something that makes me foam at the mouth. I've seen the people who remained victims and were unable to make the transition to survivor. I've worked really hard for my ability to say that I am a survivor. I've survived by any way I could situations that ripped away my sense of self, sense of trust, sense of my right to live.

*sighs*