Murmurations

I know what you're thinking and you're right. I never write anymore.

I'm sure all artists, whether you're a musician or a painter or a writer understand that voice in your head that won't leave you alone or go away until you do what it tells you to. Mine has been a lot of different personalities over the past eight years. Sometimes it's angry. Sometimes it just wants to be an advocate for people who have had their rights stolen. Sometimes, it has fallen in love with the worst possible choice in men ever. Not that most of them weren't decent guys, they were. Just the wrong choices. Then it just went silent. It woke up this morning, maybe because I felt so happy last night.

I could write a whole book on all the bad choices I've made in life. But I went home last weekend. My cousin was getting married and that was beautiful. I haven't had the easiest time with family. But he said something to me about how when someone is going through a hard time, family is always there for you. He wasn't talking about me, he wanted me to pass it on to my brother, but it resonated.

And family isn't just blood. I spent an evening with the girl I was best friends with when I was five years old. We both went though hell and got out of the JWs but we laughed about it all night. And then I came home. Here is as much home as home is. The only reason I had the opportunity to go to PEI was because I have such good friends in Toronto. People I can count on come what may. Y'all know I had a shit year. But it has been a year and it's always a new beginning come fall. :)

One of my best friends and I are going to a witches circle in a couple of weeks. It's so fun not to have rules anymore. I'll probably write a blog about that. She's blogging now too so maybe we can collaborate. It has been a long road. My other cousin told me once maybe I should wait to write a book until I know how it ends. This is how it ends. Happy. Not perfect. Surrounded by love.

I saw a reiki master awhile ago and I didn't tell her anything. I never do. Psychics, reiki, witches, if they are real they'll know about me without me giving them any information. She said my problem was that I had no idea how loved I was. Because honestly, that's what cults do to you. Make you feel guilty and wrong and unloved if you leave. She said she saw a flock of blackbirds flying in formation around me. I was a smartass and said that's called a murmuration. (Thank you to my lovely mentor GBW for teaching me that.) But how did she know I had blackbirds tattooed on my body and everywhere in my apartment and I never would be here today without my flock.

Y'all know who you are. Thank you for making me a better person, for putting up with me through this journey, for loving me in my perfectly imperfect state, for making me happy every day. For being the best family/"family" a girl could ask for.

Sullivan out.

Daydreams & Nightmares

My therapist says I should be writing more so here goes. (And, yes, I did just begin yet another sentence with "my therapist says".)

I had another unfortunate experience recently. Maybe Rosemary was right and I should just write a blog called "My horrible, terrible, really bad summer". Or maybe my psychic is right and I just have very bad karma. Either way, I was recently attacked by a man I didn't know. 

I was alone and the experience was terrifying. Thank the Universe I had the advantage of an extreme burst of adrenaline and a drunk, clumsy opponent. Ladies, if you ever find yourself in that situation (and most of us do apparently at some point in our lives, it happens so MUCH more often than you would think): scream, yell in their face, punch, kick, whatever you need to do. These predators are actually cowards trying to intimidate us into thinking they have all the power. In some situations, they do, and very bad things happen. But not always. Sometimes we can win. 

It's remarkable how our brains work, how we can store away hurt and fear and anger until we experience some new trauma and then all of a sudden, the past is back. I haven't been able to sleep since this happened, I wake up every few minutes in a sweat, having a panic attack because all of a sudden, in my sleep, I'm back in my past. I won't bore you with all the details, but I've managed to make my way through every significant trauma in my life - in my sleep - all the way back to the time our house caught on fire when I was 4 or 5 years old. I had completely forgotten that even happened. 

The good news is I've been getting through so many of them a night, I should be out of bad memories by the end of the weekend. 

I've always preferred daydreams to night dreams. In my head, in the light of day, there's always hope and possibility. At night, not so much. My subconscious takes over when I sleep and I can't control it. 

Sometimes, our daydreams turn into nightmares. The day I got married was one of the happiest days of my life. The day I got divorced was a waking nightmare. The day I was baptized as one of Jehovah's Witnesses was full of promise (although I was a brainwashed 12 year old), the day I was disfellowshipped and shunned was terrible. I almost didn't survive those experiences. 

I think though, that I got through them the same way I got through my most recent challenge: sheer will, determination and  refusing to give up. No matter who or what is our opponent if we don't give up we have a fighting chance. At least 50/50 right? I'm going to be really Canadian for a minute and quote Wayne Gretzky: "You miss 100 percent of the shots you don't take". 

So when you're faced with something and you know in your gut what the right thing to do is, take that shot. And hopefully, eventually our subconscious catches up with us and stops being so afraid anytime we go to sleep. 

Sullivan out. 

A little help from my friends

To say the last 6 weeks haven't been easy would be an understatement. :)

It all started the long weekend in May. If you read me regularly you already know a lot of this but I thought I should sum up the whole story for those of you who don't. I had a bad infection. I spent the long weekend in the hospital about 4-5 hours a day getting IV antibiotics. My sister was also diagnosed with MS that month. I was on antibiotics for a couple of weeks and I hate hospitals and needles. I felt sick all the time. 

In swoops the panic attacks. I've been having them almost every day for about 2 years now, but they became so much worse. I'd be throwing up and having vertigo at work. It's a busy time for us and I was having a hard time keeping up, which made me panic even more. 

I decide it's finally time to end this nonsense and get some medication for anti-anxiety. I thought I'd feel better in a couple of days. Most people I've talked to who've tried it at some point (which crazy enough is most of the people I know), told me I'd feel great in a couple of weeks. Didn't happen. I couldn't keep food down, I was too dizzy to even stand up in the shower. I slept a lot. They made me sad. 

So I go back to the doctor and we decide to try something different. At this point I'd lost 13 lbs in the past month between the antibiotics and this new medication. I actually felt good for a couple of days and told work I'd be back on Thursday. They thought I should take a bit more time. Which turned out to be a blessing because last Friday an old condition flared up and I had to go to the hospital on Saturday and have surgery. Great, the hospital, again. More blood, more needles, more pain. More bloodwork. (I've had to do that three time in the past couple of weeks.)

I'm not sure which was worse, the constant side effects from the medication or the pain from the surgery but I'll tell ya, I wouldn't wish either on my worst enemy. 

Now this may seem like a complain-y blog but it's not. I believe once you've been through a "triple threat" you're probably in the clear for awhile so I'm hopeful the rest of my summer will be absolutely fabulous!

I know for a fact that I wouldn't be feeling so optimistic without the help I've received from my friends. And it's funny, because as a JW, they really convince you that the world on the outside is selfish and scary and the only place to find true friends is with them. That is NOT true. 

Over the past month, I've had people here every day. Stopping in for a visit, bringing me food (even though I couldn't keep most of it down, it's a lovely gesture). My brother and sister came over and made meals. My work colleagues have met me in the park across the street to chat and cheer me up (and get me out of the house in a 3 minute walk). They've also been covering for me at work and that I'm sure is an added burden for them, but I really, truly appreciate it. 

My mom Facetimes to see how I am and my Dad checks in by phone. JJ and Lizzie have been here pretty much every day making sure I'm okay. I was a few months behind on my phone bill and Lizzie paid it for me because they were threatening to cut it off, no questions asked. 

My "Toronto mom" took the subway down from North York and held my arm (walking is painful) and took me around the corner and bought me lunch. Her and "Dad" check in every day too.  

My friends indulge my new hobby and let me read their tarot cards, do my dishes, call and text to see how I am and distract me from the boredom of being home. One friend even sent me a beautiful teddy bear, "Ted" (you know I'm not very imaginative when it comes to names, Cat was "Cat"). He's been a good cuddle buddy. A friend I don't even know very well offered to help pay for a ticket if I wanted to go home for awhile.

The most important thing I want to say is THANK YOU to all of you. You know I'd do the same for any of you when and if you need me. 

I've always considered myself a good, loyal friend but in the past, with my old friends, I felt often I was the one that had to support everyone else. Now that the tables have been turned, these people have proven I can expect to have that reciprocated. I believe the Universe gives us what we need, when we need it. 

I needed all of you. You know who you are. I feel very blessed, very loved. In the past, after being disfellowshipped, I didn't let anyone in for a long time. I was so afraid of getting hurt again and I just felt like my heart couldn't handle any more breaking. So I went it alone and refused to ask for help for a long time. Which was stupid of me. Y'all are helping to heal me. As much energy as I've put into healing myself, we just can't do it alone. I needed your energy too. 

We can get by when things are rough...with a little help from our friends. :) I can't wait to be back at work, back to real life (the bar downstairs probably thinks I died), back to normal. Thanks to you. xo

Sullivan out.