(no subject)

[serene]

Fifteen years ago today, a man I had never met walked into the 7-Eleven where I worked. Lots of you know this story already, so here's the short version: He came up behind me, stabbed me in the abdomen, raped me, tried to kill me, had a change of heart, and left.

Over the next two years (and since then), I learned more about myself, fear, will, the power of the mind, and the nature of life than I ever wanted or expected to. I learned how to determine who I am. I learned how to identify and ask for what I want. I learned about listening to myself and making my own rules. I learned that no matter who attends our death, we die alone. I decided to also *live* alone -- that is, to be responsible to myself and not God or others for my thoughts, beliefs, and actions.

Some other stuff I learned:

I learned that being stabbed nearly to death, while I would never wish it on someone, does not have to scar me for life.

I learned that bravery is not the absence of fear, but the refusal to let fear run my life.

I learned that for me, introspection is a healing force.

I learned that my fat would not protect me from being raped/harmed.

I learned that if I make unpopular choices, my world will not end.



If you feel like it, I'd love to hear about times in your life when something really hard forced you to learn something really good. I could use some uplifting today.

Comments

[bkwrrm-tx.livejournal.com]

My daughter has cancer. She's had it since she was 4 1/2, and is now 19. She is terminal, and for the last three weeks has been in the ICU with an E Coli infection that, combined with her years of chemotherapy/bone marrow transplant/stem cell transplant, has given her congestive heart failure.

In the last 15 years, but more accurately since January, when we got Shay's terminal diagnosis, I've learned that I have to let go. I have to be able to let go of the petty stuff that clutters up my life, and concentrate on the things that matter. I'll always have time to clean house/write that report/buy another car. I have a limited amount of time to spend with one of the two people who mean the most to me in the world.

I hope you don't mind me replying in your journal. I was reading you through janetmiles flist.

[serenejournal.livejournal.com]

I'll always have time to clean house/write that report/buy another car. I have a limited amount of time to spend with one of the two people who mean the most to me in the world.

Such an important lesson to keep in mind. Thank you so much. I ache for you, and I'm so glad at the same time that you have love and perspective.

I hope you don't mind me replying in your journal. I was reading you through janetmiles flist.

Mind? I'm thrilled. Thank you so much. You gave me an important piece of your heart today.

[bkwrrm-tx.livejournal.com]

In a weird way, her illness has been a blessing for us. It has brought the three of us (Shay, her sister Cassie and myself) so much closer together than any other mom and teenage girls I've ever met. We realize that time can be short, and seem to appreciate it more.

Would you mind if I added you to my friends list? I've been reading through your journal, and would really like to add you.

[machineplay.livejournal.com]

When my PTSD has been so bad I couldn't walk the five steps to the bathroom without becoming paralytic with fear; when I spent two months sick in bed with severe bronchitis, in a tiny little room, because I was too afraid to be anywhere else in my rotting, icy little house; when I couldn't eat for days from being so ill and afraid; when sleep deprivation and constant panic attacks left me haunted by unrelenting suicidal ideation, I found out how much I wanted to live. Even like that, all at once, with no sign of it letting up. Even if that was all there was. Even if I had to live in one room and work at every breath under the shadow of constant fear that made no sense, not even to me, I wanted it. And I was worth it, worth persisting. I learned to have some mercy on myself and just be where I was.

I don't always remember, but the lesson is there, whenever I am ready to remember it.

Learning the hard way

[ailbhe]

Um, the whole birth thing. Sort of. I survived it because of things I had learned previously about body ownership and reclamation, due to ick, but I know that it will never happen again ("it" in this case being violent assault to which I have consented in writing under duress and in ignorance due to timidity) because I, with the help of a therapist, am learning to trust my own judgement, and to have a voice - to speak up and speak out, for myself and the daughter so entirely dependent on me.

But really I'd have preferred a 12-step programme; it was a hard way to learn that little lesson.

And damn, I'm never leaving PTSD untreated again, no matter what. If I doubt that what is happening to me is normal, I'm going to ask someone in future. Yeesh.

[red-frog.livejournal.com]

I can live, and thrive, after losing the thing I valued most: my spouse whom I'd spent almost half my life with.

That was sort of the culmination of something I'd been learning for the past eleven years since Terry died: I can survive death. Anyone's death. I will, eventually, always be okay. I was afraid for a while that I was not as tough as I'd thought. I am.

[firecat]

I can't point to any specific tragedy, but through the various sucky parts of life (as well as some of the good parts) I've learned a hell of a lot about what's really important to me and what's not, and what changes (most everything) and what doesn't (not much), and what the world owes me (nothing) and what I have by sheer random luck (lots) and what I have to find by my own efforts (everything else).

[klwalton.livejournal.com]

As you know, I just came off two years of loss, heartache, fear, loss and loss. I'm very tentatively, while touching wood, learning about joy again. This is not the first time, it most certainly won't be the last (the way I love and the people I love make that inevitable), but I'm strong as hell and have a very deep sense of myself while still very much able to keep myself open to the wonderful people who cross my path and what they have to give and what I have to give them.

I've been through the fire, more than once, and it has made me stronger, more capable, more beautiful to myself and those who count with me, more confident. It has given me insight and vision and heart.

You, by the way, are one of the people I cherish in my life. I'm so happy our paths crossed :).

[jb98.livejournal.com]

I've learned that no matter how things are, no matter how badly messed up they seem or even if the worst happens, it's always OK.

I've learned I have strength I've never imagined I could possess.

I've learned I get to create my life.

I've learned to love me.

Life

[tracytreefrog.livejournal.com]

I have had a gun pointed at me and one placed at my temple, been date raped, gone over two years with out a stable job, preformed a belly dance in front of an audience and through all this and more I survived! (Truthfully I am not sure which of these events were more scary.) From these events I have learned I am stronger than I thought was possible. I can be hurt and not break. I have family and friends that love me. And in my own way I am beautiful.

[lcohen]

well you know my stories, love. twice betrayed and left by the women i loved, i rise and recreate myself in yet another iteration.

but in all seriousness, the triumph in my life is that i still can trust and connect and love. i fought so hard to keep that in my life.

*hugs you*

[catzen.livejournal.com]

I learned that bravery is not the absence of fear, but the refusal to let fear run my life.

Yes, that's how I understand it anyway, which doesn't mean that I'm brave, just that I know it when I see it. :-)

::hugs::