2 Years Later

A couple of things happened today which have made me realise just how far I have come in less than two years.

To put things in perspective consider this – two years ago, I started putting in place my plan to end it all.  I believed that my life was worthless and that no one would particularly care if I was no longer around.  In fact, I believed that everyone would be better off without me there to mess up their lives.

Less than two years ago, I put my plan into action.  I can now say that I am happy that my research was not quite as good as I thought it was and I failed.  And funnily enough, now that I know where I went wrong I have absolutely no intention of using that information now, or in the future.  Never again will I grant HIM that power over me.  Because I can now accept that my life does have some value!

Okay, so I still have low self-esteem and I still doubt myself a lot, but the way I feel now bears no resemblance to the way I felt two years ago.  The incidents today have shown me that.

Neither occurrence was anything huge – simply customers making positive comments about me.  One stated that he loved coming into the shop at the end of a hard day and seeing my ‘beautiful smile’.  His words, not mine.  The second incident actually involved a group of younger customers, frequent visitors to the shop.  After bantering back and forth with them, which mostly involved me insulting them and them trying to defend themselves, one of them turned round and told me I was ‘a legend’!!  I was somewhat taken aback and laughed – only for these young men whose work involves them risking their own lives for others, to assure me that the banter we share regularly in the shop cheers them up and distracts them from where they are and why they are here.

I realised that I do that!  Yes, of course, that is why I wanted to come here, but the offshoot of it is that my own self-esteem has been boosted.  I actually feel better about myself and not so bitter about the life that Alex stole from me!  How is that for a positive result? 

And the strangest part of it all?  I enjoyed the compliments!  They made me feel good.  Instead of laughing it off and believing ‘I had them fooled’ I accepted that I had made a difference to their day and I felt good about myself.  Even now, hours later, I still feel positive and satisfied that I have done something worthwhile.

Drought and Rain

This post is totally off topic and like nothing I have ever posted before, but considering the unusual situation I am now in and the fact that it is Mother’s Day I feel justified in sharing something different.

I may be in the middle of a war zone, miles from my home and my roots, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t get the news.  And the latest thing to catch my eye is talk of a drought in England.  Now remember, I am on a military base, in the middle of the desert!  And of course, I grew up in a country where we knew the true meaning of drought!  It wasn’t a case of we didn’t get enough rain during the previous rainy season, but rather we didn’t get ANY rain in the previous rainy season.  Or the one before that.  Or the one before that!  And it brings to mind a funny but rather fortuitous event which I’d like to share.

As I have said before, my mother was a very active fundraiser in our community when I was growing up.  She staged many a variety show, pantomime and fashion show over the years with the proceeds going to various causes.  Around 1985 (I am not too sure of the exact year) she decided to stage a fashion show with a bit of a difference.  Instead of using the theatre as the venue, she decided to use the pool deck of the local hotel.

As per usual, the fashion show was not merely a bunch of models walking up and down the catwalk, but included appropriate routines to show off the clothes to their best advantage.  The catwalk itself ran along the side of the swimming pool and the audience were seated around the open terrace.  The issue of rain was raised on a number of occasions, but naturally we all laughed and brushed it off.  After all, it hadn’t rained in Redcliff for 4 years!

One of the routines we did was during the sportswear section of the show.  It involved a number of girls and women, wearing various items of sports gear, doing an exercise routine a la the dance workouts that were so popular at the time.  One model, who shall remain anonymous, had great difficulties mastering a specific section of the routine.  It wasn’t that it was complicated, but more a case of she wasn’t a dancer and therefore was unaccustomed to memorising a series of steps and movements.  She really tried, but we teased her endlessly and no-one had much hope that she would get it right on the night.  In fact, it was often jokingly stated that if she did get it, it would probably pour with rain..... have you figured it out?

She did get it right on the night!  And the silly moo then proceeded to jump up and down and proclaim to the audience at large ‘I got it!  I got it!’  The rest of us endeavoured not to dissolve into fits of giggles and to continue with the routine in a professional manner – as the heavens opened and the rain we hadn’t had for the previous 4 years descended on us within the space of about 5 minutes.  And no!  We didn’t just run inside!  We were too shocked!  We just stood there like statues.  Just as the audience froze in their seats.  And once we were all well and truly soaked, everyone rushed for shelter!  Amid much laughter. 

It speaks a lot about our community that no one asked for their ticket money back.  It also speaks volumes that the local club immediately offered facilities for us to relocate the show and continue.  An hour or so after the heavens opened, we recommenced the show.  Maybe the environment was not as attractive, nor did we have the catwalk or decorations.  Instead of a dressing room, we changed in the toilets.  But there was no mistaking the joy in the room – the drought was broken, we were all well and a member of our cast had got it right!  And my amazing mother triumphed again!

Where ever you are Mom, whether you are looking down on me and watching over me, I miss you and I love you and I thank you for giving me so many wonderful memories to share with those I care about.  Happy Mother’s Day to the best Mother anyone could ever ask for xxx

Loss

Well, for the first time I am writing a blog post not knowing when I will be able to publish it.  Op Minimise is on here, for the second time in as many days.  In fact, it has now been on for more than twenty four hours, after the first instance lasting nearly 8 hours.  And it has made me think and reflect on the feelings of those affected by what has been going on here.

I know how it feels to lose a loved one.  Losing both my parents within 6 months of each other was nothing short of devastating, probably made worse by the confusing dynamic within my family.  My parents were among the few people who I had told about what Alex did to me and although their initial reaction was not exactly supportive, once they got over the shock, they did the best that they could.  I fully understand that they found it difficult to talk about and to face up to.  As a parent myself that makes sense to me.   I know that if I was in their position, I would feel that I had let my child down and failed as a parent.

And yet, I have never felt that way.  I don’t believe they let me down and I do not blame them for not protecting me from Alex.  I formed an unholy alliance with him, as a result of his veiled threats and although I tried in small ways to lead people to an awareness of what was being done to me, I can see now that it wasn’t enough!  Not in the less aware era of the 1970’s when child sexual abuse was not something that people were really aware of.

But to get back to the point of this post.  Losing a loved one.  Yes, I lost my parents, but I cannot imagine the pain of losing a son or daughter, a husband or a wife.  I can only think of how I would feel if I lost one of my sons and my heart breaks for the family and friends of those who have lost their lives here over the last couple of days. 

There is an air of sadness across the camp although most of us do not know exactly what has happened.  We are probably less informed than those back in the UK which has led to a lot of speculation.  I’m not sure whether what we are imagining is worse or better than what has really happened (if anything could be considered better in the circumstances). 

But it certainly makes one appreciate one’s own mortality.  Two years ago, I didn’t believe that my death would affect those around me, as I thought no one cared that much.  Now I realise how mistaken I was.  But I also realise that my own self-worth depends a lot on my sons and their well-being.  And because of that, my heart goes out to those who have lost their loved ones.  I pray that they have a strong support structure to help them through the days ahead.

It's back again

I suppose it was inevitable, but I really had hoped it wouldn’t happen!  It’s back ... not debilitating – not even close to the level it has been in the past.  But back just the same.

Of course, I am talking about the Depression.  Yes, I know it was never truly gone, but it was so well masked by the medication that I honestly believed I had a handle on it.  I didn’t need the therapy any more, nor the support group.  Or so I thought.  And strangely, the fact that the Depression is back makes me more depressed!  I know the Doctor has told me that I will most likely battle with it for the rest of my life, but I was beginning to think that it would just be odd moments that would be numbed by the tablets.

Not so.  It’s a real kicker!  I feel inadequate and broken.  The feelings that I am not good enough are lurking in the back of my mind, niggling away at my consciousness and causing me to question everything I do and say.  Please, don’t think that I am saying that I feel anywhere near the absolute low that I experienced two years ago, because I don’t.  But the sad fact is that I need to accept that this is it.  This is what I will have to deal with for the rest of my life. 

And I look at the people around me and wonder how I would have turned out if I’d had their life.  Not so much their opportunities or lack thereof, but the sexual security with which they grew up.  I am again finding myself hating Alex for what he stole from me.  As much as I am telling myself that I cannot let him ruin the rest of my life, right now I am finding it hard to believe that.  I can’t seem to fight it.  The anger is building up inside me yet again and I admit, I am frightened!  I just don’t know how it will manifest itself this time around.

I question whether I will be able to control the destructive tendencies that take over my psyche.  One way or another, I always end up doing or saying something that results in pain.  Pain for me and pain for those who care about me.  And that is the one thing that I am clinging on to ... this time around I realise that there are people who care about me.  There are people out there to whom it matters whether I live or die.  And that makes the difference!