stories we tell

here's a good time. eavesdrop on a conversation between your kid and your sister's kid. both 8. both redheaded. seperated at birth. and while you stifle giggles as they try to understand eachothers southern and midwestern accents, count how many times you hear "what???"



i'm so overwhelmed right now. i really am. and my head hurts from trying to process this thing called life. lets just say tomorrow cannot come fast enough. so while i try and sort thru some things, i'll leave you with this little tale of a humbled blessing....

i really wasn't in the mood to do anything sunday. i was tired and blah. i didn't want to go to church and i certainly wasn't in the mood to "hit the lake". i wound up doing both, but i didn't go about it in a very joyful way, at first.

nothing fit right. i felt bloated. my hair was messy. i ended up wearing shorts and flip-flops, and ask me if i cared. i was worried about having to push my ob/gyn appointment off even further. i was worried about money, namely how we're going to get thru a week on $20 when jason's on a quarter tank and i'm on empty. i was irritated with jason for not taking more initiative on certain things. the church message seemed long and drawn out...i couldn't get into the singing....i really just wanted to excuse myself and go throw up.

even before that, we'd had a surprise visit from some friends saturday evening, who invited us to a late afternoon picnic at the lake and jason accepted for us. instead of being grateful, i found myself grouchy, wondering what they'd need us to bring and how i could delicately say, "sorry, but i got nothin." i was also kinda not looking forward to one-on-one time with this particular couple. which was rotten, but its the truth.

obligatory back story....

dustin and jason had worked together at a warehouse job a long while back, and seemed to really hit it off. one day, jason brought him home for supper and thereafter, he was a permanent fixture at our house, every evening about 7. the 2 of them shared an easy friendship. after the loss of k in jasons life, he'd needed a male friend badly, and i was happy to see him with a buddy again. after many scheduling issues, his wife and i both finally managed to get the same day off and got together for a cook-out at our house one weekend. we really hit it off. i thought they were lovely....easy to talk to, and from the same side of the block, so to speak. we were genuinely happy to have them as friends. jason and dustin would talk often about how they wish they could find better work, how they feel so stuck in this area, with limited education and resources.

then one evening, dustin suggested they look into millwrighting. i'll skip the long detailed version of the story, but suffice it to say, we laid everything on the line in a giant leap of faith, for jason to take that job. we lost a steady income and health insurance. there was good $$ to be had, good experience to get under their belt. but it took our last cent to get it started and the downside included alot of traveling and jobs that could last a week or 6 months at a time; sometimes longer. it was decided if they double-teamed, they would always have someone to watch their back. they could split expenses, car-pool, motels, food, etc...

the first job took them to virginia. the next, further up the coast. the 3rd to oklahoma. the paychecks were awesome. but then the "slow season" kicked in. something we hadn't been warned about. something we hadn't counted on or prepared for. they were promised it was "temporary" and were told to call in the following monday. then it was the monday after that. jason and dustin called eachother daily to stay updated and to hash out their frustrations.

when they did finally get an offer, it was to illinois and promised to last at least 4 months. the thought of that made both our stomachs churn, because there's never a guarantee of home-time on those kind of jobs. but already on a 3rd week without our much-needed 2nd income, there felt like little else we could do. jason made the call to dustin. and dustin never answered.

jason and i both called. we emailed. we left messages. with no reply. so we were faced with a tough choice to make. without the safety net of a 2nd person on the job, we both felt it wouldn't be a good thing for jason to go out there on his own. so much in that line of work is left up in the air, and the truth is, with our dwindling funds, we'd be literally helpless if anything out of the ordinary came up. in the meanwhile, jason was without work for right at a month, while he desperately searched for something else. to say we were hurting, financially, would be an understatement of the grossest proportions.

i finally got an email reply from dustins wife. in it, she was very short with me, and said simply that dustin had found something else. she was sorry, but they couldn't afford to wait and their phone had been cut off so they couldn't call. so, bye.

that was it.

so wait. that was it? after the apcolypse we'd weathered with k and candace, lets be honest, i was hurt. it kind of felt like being abandoned and betrayed all over again. jason was lax to discuss it, but it visibly bothered him. and lets face it, its always been difficult for me to trust people. i don't mean to come across in that way, what i presume to appear like indifference or holding myself aloof. but i think my soul feels it would much rather bide its time and connect slowly, than be burned.

i'd/we'd been burned before, and badly. still, i gave the benefit of the doubt. i wrote back and told her i understood...money was tight for us too. i told her we weren't angry, we'd just been a little hurt at no reply. i wish he could've emailed or stopped by, and there wouldn't have been any misunderstanding. all was ok, and we hoped they'd stay in touch.

well, my email was entirely misinterpreted. she felt attacked that i'd pointed out the obvious and in her reply, called me everything but a b****. she said i had no idea what they were going through and she was sorry that i couldn't take that step in her shoes.

wow. i was honestly floored. i re-read my email to see where i went wrong. and honestly, i couldn't see it. so i sent a reply, telling her how sorry i was , and if we could help with anything, not to hesitate to ask. i said that i never meant to come across in a negative way and that we cared about them very much and hoped they'd stay in contact.

that went over like a lead balloon. she flung one back at me so fast, it made my head spin. she said they were going thru bankruptcy, they were losing everything and to hell with anyone that couldn't give them a break. they did what they had to.

so without even attempting to stop and think, by this time i was just mad. i shot back with something ohhhhh, relating gracefully to an, "oh yeah?? and i don't have problems? look here, hussy, i've been trying to deal with addictions and betrayals years in the making and put a marriage back together lopsided. i now have no health insurance to take bella to a much needed dr appointment for an ear infection and i can't even pay out of pocket cuz i'm a month behind on bills, plus dealing with my overall sanity at having been raped and oh, by the way, i do know what its like to go thru bankruptcy and lose everything you have, so pffffbbbbtttt."

now. i hate to dash your angelic impressions of me thus far, (snort) but as it turns out, i am nothing if not morbidly, shamefully imperfect. i should also probably mention i was kinda sorta stressed with life, right about then, and in no mood to be gracious.

that, and i do a bang-up job on a "yo mama" call out, as it would happen. yes, i did walk to school uphill both ways thru driving snow, barefoot, 7 days a week. i even packed my own lunch: lard. with a shard of glass on the side.

well the aftermath, of course, was a big fat "kat, this is God. you suck. and how."

jennifer immediately emailed back, telling me she was so sorry, she had no idea what we were going thru, she'd always thought we were so happy...she'd just been so overwhelmed and they felt like they'd abandoned jason when dustin took another job so they couldn't bring themselves to call, for fear we'd be angry and it had just escalated from there...

and yes, i felt about thiiiiiis big. i'd just force-fed this poor woman that i'd barely had the good sense to even fully know, a huge double dip of crap. my crap. crap she didn't need to know. crap i didn't need to divulge. and in the process, i hadn't taken the time at all, not really even once, to graciously consider what hurt looked like for her, in her life. instead, we'd both stubbed up and not so delicately given eachother the proverbial finger. or as we say around these parts, "flyin' the family crest".

so what do you do when you swallow your foot, toes and all? well first, you throw up. and then you suck it up, thats what. i wrote her a long heart-felt email..... something to the extent of, "i am a boil on the butt of humanity." and then, deciding that was a pansy way of dealing with things, i called her. we had a delicate, if not somewhat awkward at first conversation that day, and i felt better for it. we ended on a pleasant note.

so fast forward to the here and now. things were "ok" after that, i suppose. dustin called a few weeks later to chit-chat with jason and they picked up where they left off. they talk from time to time.. jasons' gone by to visit a few times when bella's been at nana's and i've been at work. that was that. until now. ugh. its always more in-your-face, in person, no?

they phoned sunday afternoon to arrange a time to meet up and when i took a deep breath and posed the dreaded question, jennifer said, "nah, we don't need anything, just bring yourselves." we met up at one of my favorite lake spots around here.....its so picturesque and quiet. and what i had dreaded would be awkward, ended up being so lovely and just completely unexpected. it really was. our conversation was easy and relaxed and friendly. they'd brought steaks and potatoes to grill and i wanted to just cry at the grace, as well as the spread they laid out, because it was so kind. we laughed and visited and caught up, in between chasing bella who was in her element, splashing in the water, collecting rocks and squishing bugs.

there was a moment, a comfortable lapse in conversation, when we heard the strumming of a guitar. at first, we weren't sure where it was coming from and finally spotted a middle-aged man, leaning up against his van. he was playing one of my all-time favorite songs, and quietly on a rock over to the side, sat a woman, listening. it was apparent he was playing just for her and my first thought was, how sweet. but as i watched, the woman drew her legs to her chest and sat with her head down in her lap. she looked so incredibly sad. my heart went out to her and as i sat lost in my own thoughts, jennifer leaned in closely. "its somethin', how everyone has a story, isn't it...and we never even realize it, til we listen..."



.....and even the rocks cry out

mama said there'd be days like this

6:45 am) wait for jason to shut the alarm off. upon hearing no movement, squint one eye open and look his way. adjust my heating pad from aching uterus to sore left shoulder. poke jason in the rib. he rolls over. realize i need to pee. waste 3 entire minutes i could've been sleeping. see jason has reset alarm. flop back on the bed upside down as the big lug has now taken over my side of the bed. blargh.

7:35 am) somehow on the cusp of consciousness, hear bella up and scolding frank for peeing on the kitchen floor. as my brain struggles to comprehend this phenomenon that my child is awake before i am, my eyes blink open and squint at the alarm clock. i briefly ponder calling in dead. reason with self that a/ i don't have a life insurance policy, and b/ vacation hours are needed for the holidays. i yank the covers off the bed and holler, "OHMYGOD-WE-OVERSLEPT!!" i then dangle my legs over the side of the bed and recoil in horror at the massacre i've left in the sheets, despite my precautions. now, currently on day 26 of the never-ending period. add 2 more loads of wash to my to-do list. fall flat on my back while trying to simultaneously put on a bra and shorts. jason laughs. then helps me up. then laughs harder.

7:16 am) which is the time it actually is, since jason decided to set the alarm clock 20 minutes ahead, finds me packing 2 lunches and trying to smooth out dark circles under my eyes. decide nothing can be done with hairs on my head and nodding grimly at my reflection, reach for a clip.

7:37 am) argue with The Child about what to eat for breakfast. no, she can't bring 4 ft inflatable dinosaur to show her friends. yes, she does need to brush her teeth. speechless at the red beret with her pink polka-dot shirt and skirt ensemble she insists on wearing. decide i need to pick my battles. out the door and on our way to school.

7:53 am) arrive at work. quick shift exchange, meds for ebb and she's off to the adult day care program. view the mess that is mine, all mine, to clean up from previous staff. sigh, loudly. i am now on flow duty. count out 17 pills, fix breakfast, lay out the table, pour coffee, grab towels, take a deep breath and put on a fresh face. open the bedroom door.

8:50 am) after her shower, i now feed flow breakfast while she *sings* in between bites, spattering my old navy tee with random blueberries.' turn on the tried and true "Golden Girls" get my cleaning on. flow is in a "helpful" mood today, which is precious and draining. she is my wobbly shadow during every task, *teaching* me how to wash dishes, thaw out hamburger, clean the fridge, start laundry, disenfect trash cans and showers, make the beds....in between each chore, she reaches up and plants a big slobbery kiss right on my face.

9:30 am) aggravated at the amount of paperwork that hasn't been filed, i decide its time for a ride to the main center where i can do it all myself. flow is more than happy to go for a ride and grabs her elton john sunglasses and her baby doll. we are off.

10:30 am) arrive home. flow decides her baby needs a bath. in the washer. she lovingly drops her inside and then proceeds to *check* on her 17 x's during the rinse cycle, causing the washer to overfill and flood 1/4 of the house. i begin more laundry.

10:50 am) look frantically for the identical twin replacement doll to sneak in while the real one dries outside. diaper, powder, dress it, then hand off to flow with fingers crossed. she is pleased with her fresh, clean baby. mission accomplished.

11 am) on our way to walmart to meet house manager and *shop* for supplies.

11:20 am) as we step in the door, flow has explosive poo all over herself. i die.and then, my friends, i laugh out loud. not an irreverent, disrespectful laugh,no. but i laugh. for i can't help myself. this is the week i've had so far, and i've not even had a good few minutes to myself to hug my good friend, internet, in the process. so while we're all waiting for me to get ahold of myself, i need serious help with a dilemma.

here goes.

currently, my husband is crawling around on his hands and knees under our house, attempting to find the ventilation pipe to our bathroom. its a 2-story house thats been modified into 2 apartments, so trust me when i tell you that's not easy.

for those of you keeping up with my ongoing christy saga, you'll remember after her abrupt dissapearance, she then called from her sisters', asking us to keep one of her cats for her. the cat turned out to be very flea-ridden and very pregnant. yay. the cat also hates our 2 very mellow, very male, very fixed cats. she tolerates the weiner dog. so when she's not growling at someone/something, she's throwing up and peeing/pooping wherever her heart desires. she decided early on that she's too good to use the same litter box and she still hasn't popped those kittens out yet.

now. i have tried to be patient. i know christy has alot on her. and there's this bleeding heart in me that loves animals. i do. but there's no progress in her "getting a place" and meanwhile, i have come home every day since the cats' been with us, to a house that stinks. and if you know anything about anything about me, you know that just sucks. today, i got the added treasure of cleaning up cat vomit all over my washer and dryer. pee and poo in my bathtub and an extra special surprise in the laundry basket.

but back to the reason jason's under the house. so i mentioned the house has been stinking, right? and not just your average cat poo'ing wherever it wants to, kind of smell. it stinks.

allow me to tell you why.

yesterday, jason was washing up from work and i was standing in the doorway, talking to him, when lo and behold, miss stinky preggers sashays in and squats right over the air vent and takes her a real nice pee.

so here. while i go hunt baking soda and white vinegar and duct tape so jason can gag while he cleans out the pipe, please do talk amongst yourselves and decide for me what's the bestest, most civil and sweet spirited way to deal with this crap.

do i tell christy i just can't hack this or do i suck it up...chances are, she won't be able to do anything about the situation but become upset, and my only other option will be to place the cat with the humane society. coincidentally, that's what her sister wanted to do in the first place. but then there's a guilt-factor that weighs in. we said we'd watch her for her til she got a place. we also didn't expect the unexpected, if you get my drift.

blargh. help.

time for a breather

don't you hate it when even your email sends past due reminders. i swear there are days when i don't go to the mailbox because i'm avoiding having to even think about bills. and now my flickr account has reached the end of its free days. :sniff:

i took the day off, yesterday. and it was much needed. i let myself sleep. and i cleaned my embaressingly filthy house. all my unearthing of repressed memories has taken its toll on my sanity, as well as my piles of laundry and stacks of crap. not to mention making it just a tad bit depressing around this blog as well.

so we took a time-out, to rejuvenate. jason likes to utilize the phrase, "wife happy. life happy" from time to time. he's ok, that one.

he decided we needed to go have some fun last night, and headed over to the umoja {unity} festival. bella played carnival games and won a beret, and later giggled, caught up in the pied piper effect, running thru the legs of the new orleans troupe of stilt walkers chaka zulu, who are UH-mazing, may i just say.

and then we sang and boogied down with the zapp band ~ one of the leading soul/funk groups of its time, started in the late 70's by the troutman brothers. man, they've still got it too. they came out all energy and sparkles, doing all manner of crazy things with the talk box. it was such a good time. so incredibly fun.

then we came home and thanks to the crazy technology of the dvr, first watched the finale of So You Think You Can Dance. oi vey. how happy am i that joshua won. and i sat and cried like a baby when twitch and kherrington redid their viennese waltz. there is a moment, towards the end of the routine, when he picks her up and cradles her in his arms like a child as he continues to dance. can i tell you how that gets me right about here?? ugh. just go watch it. tore me up, that one. and for reasons i could never begin to even explain.

if ever there were an interpretive dance to portray the relationship between myself and my husband, music and all, this would be it. and its important you know this. because in all my projectile word vomiting around these parts, much more so when i delve into the history, the struggles ~ past and present ~ the very dynamics of my marriage, it is this binding aspect, this crazy and complex man that holds me, still.

which is no easy task. i'm a pretty stout heifer for such a petite dew drop. ;)

and then, last but not least, did you see the opening ceremony for the olympics?????

UN - be - LIEV - able .

i have had a long torrid love affair with the asian culture since i was a child. i have always been fascinated by the concepts of buddhism; the significance of water and openess. of mind/body/spirit connection. i adore their history and culture, the haunting music and tradition, the attention to the most minute detail, exquisite, even bordering on militant at times. there are many touches of asian culture i've adopted in my own life thruout the years, including this:

little known fun fact: i have 5 tattoos, which are all of significance to me. people tend to be shocked when they discover this unexpected little tidbit of information. they are not hidden, but somehow so much a part of me that unless pointed out, generally go unnoticed.

this particular piece is done in kanji, which is a japanese writing system, borrowing chinese characters. in the asian culture, words, even letters, are made up of elaborate symbols and characters. on a girls weekend to gatlinburg several years ago, we happened on a craft fair, where i found this lovely elderly chinese woman transcribing on rice paper. i asked if she could write my daughters name. rather than ask the spelling, like many people do, she asked me the meaning. she smiled then, and i stood in awe as i watched the magical strokes of her paintbrush create a work of art ~ what is now a wall hanging in my daughters room and a tattoo that stretches length-wise on the calf of my leg.

we found early on in my pregnancy we were having a girl. but when it came to deciding on a name, jason and i were stuck. we wanted a strong name. i wanted 2 middle names. jason wanted my name to be incorporated. we looked at books, i doodled on notepads, we talked for hours about what the name would be. and then one day, while driving home from work, there it was. when i crawled into bed, i whispered it to jason and he smiled, "perfect."

and so, some many months later, katherine (pure) bella (beautiful) reianna (and graceful) was born.

this tattoo is my daughters' name, in the definition of beautiful. and i find it not a coincidence, i chose to place this on my body. there are many different opinions on body modification. i once got into a long and heated discussion with one of jasons uncles' who, at a family reunion, chose to publicly damn my husband to hell for "desecrating his body", using the old testament as his guideline. he never apologized, but he never brought the subject up again.

often in my life, the term "God works in mysterious ways" has come into play. i don't pretend to know what Gods take on body piercing and tattoos might be. people can argue your body is a temple, but then tell me, honestly, would God turn anyone away that asked?

no.

in some ways, i've lived enough for several lives. and i've experienced some excruciating blows to my spirit over the past few years. but i think the fact that i chose to permanently inscribe beautiful on my skin is not just mine but Gods' reminder, that yes, yes i am.

seattle revisited

wow has this day been brutal. and here i sit at 4:15 in the morning, my head still throbbing and my throat suddenly dry from just staring at a ghost from my past. jason asked me earlier tonite if i wanted to hold off on our therapy for the time being...if this is too painful, to dig into my past. to talk about these things. there are moments in our sessions when ed himself becomes uncomfortable and asks me if i need jason to leave the room.

there are days, such as yesterday and today, that i entertain that idea of slowing down, and with a great enthusiasm. i know for jason, it must seem so terribly unfair, when i go thru these bouts of debilitating depression and i am a zombie in the land of the living. but i plug away at it because this is all i have. and i need to let it go. all of it. to let it heal. let it be.

i am nothing if not brutally honest and frank in my writing. but in my flippant remark about not "needing to hide" and some such blather earlier, i conveniently failed to mention that i still, from time to time, conduct in-depth searches just to see if i'm able to be unearthed.....

in-so-doing, tonite, i stumbled across my ex-husbands website. and there, in full techni-color glory was his photo, posing with his 2nd wife.

its uncanny, how he hasn't changed. unsettling, that i, or rather the person that i was then, am still mentioned in his life.

i left seattle on a greyhound bus many years ago with 2 bags to my name. i left seattle that day a changed girl, not yet even realizing she was actually a woman. a broken yet determined woman. allbeit, a woman that had failed. i had compensated for the pain he'd put me thru time and time again, with opening doors that should never have been opened. i was in no way perfect. and in the end i wounded him as well. i'm not proud of that. he deserved alot of things, but not that.

however, to this day, i'm grateful i had the courage to leave.

we met over the internet. aol was new and i was a naive small town farm girl from the midwest. he was from someplace far away from what i had always known, and he pursued me dilligently. he was dark and mysterious and persistent and unlike anyone i'd ever met. and he was my ticket out. i believe it was the first real time that i shocked my family, that i didn't do the right thing, when we eloped. they were instantly wary of him, tho tried valiantly to understand and include him. we were married only weeks before i began discovering his lies.

he'd emptied my bank account within days and so all he had left was his resilience. he opened a small store on a wink and a prayer and i was his doting and loving, dutiful wife. i took all his inconsistencies in stride. after all, didn't i love him? didn't i promise to honor him til death do us part? was it not my job to cover for him, do better, be better, make him proud?


i remember shortly after we were married, i went on a shopping trip to the city with my mom and sister. we were gone for the day and i'd felt so cosmopolitan, this married woman, acting as an adult. we pulled up to our apartment early that evening and began to get bags out of the car when he came charging out, gun in hand, demanding to know why we'd been gone so long. 'said he'd been ready to call the police and come looking for us. i'll never forget the argument he and my sister got into, her leaving with a tearful goodbye, pressing an angel keychain in my hand. ahh, kim. you have no idea how many times i took that keychain out thru the years. how i regretted not defending you better. not walking away right then. how many tears i spent on its smooth glassy surface, pressed to my face, in effort to feel you closer, begging your forgiveness. i still have it, to this day.

there was one day while he was out on business, i snuck into his office with the plan to surprise him. he was anything but tidy, and i cringed when i thought of him conducting public business in this cramped, cluttered space. i knew i'd have just enough time to organize and make it spotless. i just knew he'd be pleased with the results. i tackled the bookshelves first, then moving to his desk, and finally the boxes of papers underneath. i didn't pretend to understand his business world so i intended just to make orderly files, as i pulled out photograph upon photograph of pornography. conquests. women. women everywhere. i was disgusted. and i was crushed. my initial reaction was to put his office back the way i'd found it, and did so halphazardly thru my tears. i didn't want him to know i'd found him out. i wanted him to admit to me he had a problem. that he still had a problem.

you see, he'd confessed to me before we married that he'd "tackled a sexual addiction". that part of the reason he was so attracted to me was my willingness to listen. to accept him in spite of such a terrible past. that i was so pure. that with God and my love and devotion, why that would solve and fix everything. and i wanted to fix him.

what i was, was so incredibly naive. the truth is, you never truly tackle any addiction. it doesn't have to define you, you can even overcome some of the most difficult and challenging parts, riding those waves of temptation and accepting them for what they are. it is what it is. but it will always be a part of you.

my husband was never willing to face his addiction. of course, i couldn't keep such a hurtful horrible thing to myself and when he arrived home that very afternoon, it was to a crumpled, disillusioned wife who confronted him like a tornado. his instant reaction was to wrap me in his arms and apologize that i'd had to discover it in that way. then he fed me the story that he "hadn't relapsed....it was simply undercover work from his time in the police department, cutting down on the pornography industry. it was his way of healing, by putting these scumbags away."

of course i believed it. what did you take me for?

the fact that he had, at one time, been on the police force, was one of only a handful of things he ever chose to tell the truth about.

his abuse started with inanimate objects. a busted tv remote, a fist in a windshield. from there it moved to our pets. he once threw my cat of 14 years off our balcony 4 stories up. another time, he shattered our puppy's pelvis by body slamming her because she'd had an accident on the floor. unable to afford the surgery to realign as well as amputate a leg, i asked the vet to put her down, crying as i cradled her in my arms, knowing that death would be better than a life with him.

and after that. well i was the only other obvious choice.

he was cruel and heartless. we never consumated our relationship. i was his doll in his sick and twisted playground and he monitored my every move. he hovered over my phone calls. he took over my paychecks. he was a smooth talker, active in church, no matter where we lived, and defied people to think him anything but a just and godly man. in public places, he would pinch or twist my arm or leg, out of sight, if i caused him the slightest inconvenience or embaressment. at home, his aggression was full throttle. my life as i'd known it, was turned upside down.

we'd been married 6 months when he whisked us away to california and a "better life". i was terrified and excited, all at once. we settled in anaheim and took a brief vacation before his job was to start. on the way back home, i found myself in an emergency room @ 2 o'clock in the morning, my husband in a diabetic coma with bs over 500 and kidneys failing. i called my mom collect and then contacted his parents, whom i'd met only twice. i nursed him back to health while he lay in the icu for over a month. i fought for our home, his job, our life, with every fiber of my being. and even during his recovery, he was fulfilling his addiction. he was seeing other women. and he was the master of his universe. he was out of control.

he refused to monitor his newfound illness, and refused to address his addictions. the 2 walked hand in hand on a tight rope of depression, frustration, guilt and self-loathing. i told myself if i just loved him enough, God would fix him. if i just tried harder, he would change. i begged him to seek counseling. nevermind that i was never worth even that much to him. worse yet, he never loved himself enough to try.

on the outside, i was his doting wife. he was on the church softball team. in the mens mentoring/bible study. he even began "counseling" with our pastor on the pretense of "dealing with demons", once and for all. and it was all a charade. after every episode of rage, he would beg forgiveness, declare he wasn't worthy of me and determine to change. i had nowhere to turn, but to God. and i felt like even He'd abandoned me.

i'd secretly opened a checking account 3 months prior to my leaving him. i knew that resourcefullness would be my only way out. i managed, somehow, to squirrel small amounts away each week, out from under his watchful eye. i bought a one-way ticket back home and when i finally broke down and confirmed my families worst suspicions by admitting how bad things were, my mom was terrified for me and sent money to the address of mutual friends. they showed up at the end of my shift one afternoon and asked if we could talk. it came out then, in a torrent of desperation. all of it. and instead of shock, they nodded and took me immediately to meet with our pastor and his wife. they had suspected all along.

they agreed we needed to be seperated, if for nothing but my safety. that we needed intense counseling. but by all means, for the sanctity of our marriage, i wasn't to leave. my husband simply needed time. and i needed to give that to him. after all those years of silence. all that pain, i sat in that pastors office completely unable to function. i felt as tho the church had just pulled the trigger for him.


i dutifully stayed at our friends house for the next few days. they spoke in hushed whispers and assured me he was being dealt with. the very next day, he was waiting for me when i got off work. i'd confided in my boss the situation at hand, and she'd had me escorted outside every night by the armed guard. he stepped in front of me when he heard my sharp intake of breath that night. but i bravely nodded that i was fine and unlocked my car as the guard walked away. my husband stepped out of his vehicle and took my hand. 'asked me to ride with him, just to talk. i insisted i was going to the grocery store and back to our friends house. that he wasn't supposed to contact me. i wanted to buy herring for my birthday tomorrow, i kept repeating. my mom had always bought me a jar every year, special, just for me. it was the one thing i still had. he promised he'd take me there and drop me back off at my car if i'd jus talk to him.

all the way there, he threw bible verses in my face, ranting about the duties of a wife and that divorce is a sin. i kept repeating i wanted a divorce. he was livid by the time he slammed on the brakes in the parking lot and as i got out of the car, he doubled around to my side, grabbing me by my neck and holding me at arms length. nearly a foot and some odd inches taller than me at 6'5" and close to 300 lbs, i was putty in his hands. i credit the beautiful faceless angel in the form of a bag boy that saved my life that day.

2 days later, i watched out the window as elliot bay slowly dissapeared off the horizon.

i think i needed to write this, this early morning. because although the years have softened that hurt from so long ago, i don't know that i ever truly gave it closure. today, that feels freeing. there was a time that i hated him. for what he took from me. what he ripped from my life. but i don't hate him anymore. matter of fact, i forgave him a long time ago. even asked my own forgiveness, whether or not he ever gave it. the last thing he ever said to me was f*** you. the truth is, i wish him well. i wish him healing and happiness. i hope he learned to stop running. i hope he has realized the beauty in facing yourself head-on. i hope he is a warrior, battling his addictions. i hope he is a changed man. i'm thankful, that for everything i lost, i also gained so much. i earned wisdom, and strength, and empowerment thru that pain.

we were married 3 years, 6 months, 28 days. and it was important i remember that today.

deep subjects: part one

we went camping with jasons parent's and brother over the weekend. we woke up to an amazing view of a crystal lake every morning and played cards and roasted s'mores long into every night. i'll choose to look over the obvious aggravations that come with such an extended outdoorsy stay in the closeness that only family can afford. aside from the occasional hiccups, it was lovely.

somehow, the men convinced me to tag along to the rifle range with them on saturday. it's been a long time since i held a gun, and as my father in law demonstrated how not to jam the chamber on his .22, i swallowed a lump in my throat, determined not to revisit that past. the only woman at the range that day, i managed to shoot very well for my first time ever successfully pulling a trigger. 'even got a hundred yard target that none of the men could quite make. after some affectionate pats on the back, the rest of the weekend i was known as lil' annie oakley. that made me smile.

i've been many places in my life. with 2 fathers in the military; one a truck driver as well, i was blessed with an opportunity to travel. i've seen 39 of our beautiful united states. lived in 6 of them. some places will always hold more meaning than others.

some people find it depressing, the thought of living in the pacific northwest. for me, that area of the country will forever walk a sacred, bittersweet hallway of my heart. for it saw me thru both a death and rebirth in my life.

it was there, where my first husband took from me my youth, my innocence, my heart. where i really truly questioned God. where i held a gun for the first time and attempted suicide. where i collapsed in a heap on the floor when the chamber jammed. it was there, where i first learned to run, and subsequently hide, from God and from myself. where i endured unrelenting abuse in every possible definition of the word. where i learned about sexual addiction and the nightmare that trails in its wake. where i got guts, street smarts. there, where i learned the importance of not alienating yourself from the people that truly love you. where i was abandoned by my church in the name of the sanctity of marriage. it was there, where my husband tried to kill me.

its not often, i allow myself these memories, tainted with so much pain. and yet, seattles' rain through all of it, was my saving grace. and so i color these memories with the rain. unlike any other rain i've ever known. it was always a comfort to me, then. it remains a fond friend, now.

i am lost, my friends. i feel worn down, body and soul. and i miss the rain.

when there comes a moment, ever the briefest, i will sit down and reflect on these things, and they will fall quietly into place. i will understand what needs to come first. i will get back up and try again.

but tonite, i hurt. tonite, i'm broken. i am shattered in a million different pieces on a million different shores and i cry.

i feel overcome and overwhelmed. as tho i'm standing against the tide in a relentless ocean. the waves keep knocking me down and every time i get back up, i'm hit even harder. i'm running out of breath and i don't know that i can stand back up again. i don't know that i have that strength anymore. i want so badly to be saved.

and instead, i'm alone.

i know that i am not. my heart, not my head, tells me this. and i know that you precious few sit beside me on this journey as well.

but tonite, i'll allow myself to hurt. to truly feel this.

the tears come at the most inopportune times, these days. while bathing *flow*. while peeling potatoes for supper. while helping bella with homework. while taking frank out to walk. while turning over in the middle of the night, jason sound asleep.

i wonder sometimes if i will ever, ever get to the other side or this pitch black abyss that swallows me whole on my most vulnerable days.

in counseling tues. night, ed asked me to go back. way back. and it took my breath away. every time he asked me to pray, i couldn't bring myself to close my eyes. it was too painful, that flood of memories slapping me in the face. he eventually let it go, moving on in our session. but it left me drained.

i want to let it go. let it all go. let God take it. but there's this brick wall staring me in the face and my fingers feel bloody and mangled from trying to claw my way through it.

i saw k& candace the other day. i knew it was inevitable. in a town this small, you're bound to cross paths at some point. i know it to be entirely possible that candace sees me every day as i walk up the path to work and she on her way taking brooke to kindergarten.

jason and i had the radio on, driving up into the walmart parking lot. we were laughing, on our way to look at supplies for our upcoming camping trip. and then, there they were, unloading the girls and groceries into their car. for just a split second, k looked up and i impulsively gagged.

i felt like i'd been punched in the stomach, the wind knocked out of me.

and all the forgiveness and abounding, unconditional love i'm supposed to be working on? replaced instantly by unadulterated fear. blood boiling anger. resentment. hurt. sooooo much hurt. there was just his face. the man that raped me. my husbands best friend. jason put his hand over mine, unconsciously gripping the edge of my seat, and veered the car in the opposite direction. he parked, and silently, we walked side by side in the store.

i know that seeking a therapist is the right decision in my life, right now. its a beginning, a start at healing, where i've spent too much time running, and not in any direction i need to be running towards. i don't know that i've chosen the right therapist for me, but i sense, almost, that this decision was not mine to make. i feel sometimes, that *eds* presence is far more for jason than myself. and, strangely enough, that intrigues me.

i'm always hyper-critical when it comes to therapists/counselors/psychologists and the like. i analyze, if its possible, more than they do. if i had one of their yellow ledger pads, my pen would be flying off the page.

i saw my first counselor at age 14, for issues relating to my birth-dad. already, i was of that mindset, on edge, and was seasoned at masking and suppressing true hurts. sometimes, i feel like i was never truly a child. i was already an old soul by the age of 2.

ed is inconsistent. he is forgetful, often insensitive and completely off the mark. he's cheesy at all the wrong moments and for the life of me, insists on calling me kate. i ask you, how difficult is it to remember a name like kat byrd ??? {and as you collectively gasp at my impropriety, my brazen declaration of my real name, i'll smile, and tell you that i worked hard for many, many years at hiding. i was excellent at it. after all, my first husband had been on the police force. i simply have no reason to hide anymore. } but ed is also human. and in his imperfect form, he is also beautiful and precious, in his own way. he challenges me. he holds me accountable. and he pushes me further than i'm willing to go. after all, i'm a tough code to crack. i'll admit that.

i see why he is a pastor. i see why he is credited in books. in not one, but many. why he is on james dobson's list.

and strangely enough, he is vulnerable with me. the past 3 counselors i've been to, have, at some point, poured out their hearts to me. i don't know why.... maybe it has something to do with the nurturer thing everyone always defines me as. whatever the reason, and however somewhat innapropriate, i'm also humbled that they choose to lay their head on my shoulder.

at any rate, i've been irritated, even angry, with ed, and more than a few times. lest i recount my last post, for one. what i need to remember as the most important thing i can take from any of these sessions, is that he's my sounding board. and he might have advice. it may even be great advice. but it may not be the right thing for me.

its been a tough last couple of weeks.....i am currently on day 20 of the unrelenting Period From The Depths of Hell. awaiting medical answers, i'm exhausted at putting on a brave face and cowgirling up, and not a little bit drained. top that off with all this dredging up of old, ugly demons from a past i'd thought long since buried, i'm at my limit.

ed defined our characters based on the wizard of oz, the other day. jason got to be toto, damn him. he always gets away with entirely too much crap.

i, on the other hand, am likened to the wizard. and the cowardly lion. i have a hug that melts marshmallows and i'm the big mama bear ~ rough and gruff and tough on the outside.....but really just a cloud of smoke and a puddle of mush on the inside. entirely accurate, true. but still hard to hear, all the same. the trouble is, i've taken on this role for so long, i'm completely lost without it. i've always, always taken care of. i don't know how to be taken care of. i don't even know what that feels like. every time i've dared to try, i've been dropped so hard its nearly been the death of me. i've been tested and tried; burned.

all i heard tuesday night was my voice. jason nervously clearing his throat. ed, filling up a notebook. and then i cried. and i cried so much that i cried some more. and i hate it when i cry. i hate that whole gutteral process, how my nose snots up and no kleenex is strong enough. i look and sound ridiculous and i can't catch my breath, and then ed held out his arms and i about drowned in that single solitary moment of comfort. he brushed the hair out of my eyes and said quietly, "just hold on until you're ready to let go."

all is not right in my world. it most certainly isn't. and i find myself still not ready to let go.