Boxes

When I was eighteen, I had a summer-temp job at a company where I worked with a diverse group of very nice women. We had almost nothing in common these ladies and I. But they welcomed me into their circle and treated me with kindness, as if I were one of their own, even though I’d only been sent there on a week-long temp job initially.

While we worked, we often chatted with each other about things, and one day, Sue shared a story she’d just read, about a woman whose significant other had convinced her to keep her head in a box. Like ALL the time. Day and night.

Just her head, mind you. While her body was free, he’d rigged up some kind of box that allowed for ventilation, but which kept her head in captivity. He would remove the box for her to eat, but then back on it would go. This went on for years, until her atrocious situation was discovered somehow. And I remember being bewildered by the disclosure that even after she was free of him, she sometimes wanted to put her box back on her head. It was familiar.

I didn’t comment on Sue’s story at the time, because it disturbed me very deeply. I couldn't join the discussion. On so many levels it made me uncomfortable. And though it was just a passing tale, one that I never even read myself, I have never forgotten it.

Last week in my appointment with my therapist, he asked me a question (I don’t remember what the question was), but it reminded me again of this story and I shared it with him. As I asked the question How could this woman have agreed to that situation? How could she have let him convince her to go along with it?, it finally registered why it has always stayed with me.

How could I have gone along with the things I did, as a child? Because in a way, I, too, let myself be trapped in an invisible box. My whole life.

I realized that perpetrators “groom” their victims, and I understand that I was a powerless child, that none of it was my fault; I get all that. But it still made me so deeply sad to realize that I was kind of like the woman with her head in the box. I was bonded emotionally to my dad, and wanted to keep him happy. Wanted it more than my own happiness. Didn't want to wreck what good there was in my life by speaking up about what wasn't.

Today I read a story about kidnap victim Jaycee Lee Dugard, who, at least for part of her captivity, was allegedly kept in a box. This made me weep, and I feel sad tonight. Sad for all the people in all kinds of boxes. Sad for the circumstances that led them (us) there. And a little bit angry too. Which if I were a betting-kinda-girl I'd wager my therapist would be happy to hear.

Have you ever been boxed before? How did you escape?

Grateful for:

1) Amazing lime cake. And Shelah.
2) Finding some cute skirts this week at my local thrift store.
3) Finding my old keyless entry remote, and getting it to work on my car.

Nineteen

Nineteen years ago today, Doc and I were married in the Manti, Utah temple, which was completed in the year 1888 by the pioneers who settled that part of the country. It's one of the most beautiful places I have ever been in.

Together we walked up the open-center spiral staircase that winds up the 179-foot tower

arriving in The Wells Room, where our family and friends were awaiting our arrival.

We knelt across the altar from each other, and, holding hands, were married and sealed in holy matrimony for time and eternity.

As we left the temple, someone snapped this photo of us...the first ever of Doc and I as a married couple. Naturally, my eyes are shut.

Despite my inclination towards extremely poufy dresses with puffed sleeves, (when else would I ever be justified in such an exhibition?), and regardless of the various inauspicious events transpiring in my life during that time and since, we have been blessed in countless ways through our marriage.

Growing up we learn of marriage, and hear various bits of advice about how to find a suitable match, how to make it last, and the joys of happily ever aftering with your soul mate. Not much is told of how to weather the inevitable storms of life, when not to give up, and what is worth fighting for.

Doc and I have had our share of storms. And I'd be lying if there haven't been throw-in-the-towel moments for both of us. But I am humbled that somehow we have made it together this far. That we have both done enough right in our relationship that we still really do love each other, and want to be together.

There is something priceless and precious about being with someone through all those early years together. Through having our babies and raising them during those long, sleep deprived nights of their early years, while finishing college and graduate school, finding those first jobs, and the myriad experiences that have happened as we've come-of-age. There is a kind of intimacy and a sense of being known when you share these years together that can't be recreated later in life. We have countless memories with each other from these past 22 years since we fell in love.

So today, darling Doc, as you are away on call at the hospital, and busy tenderly serving people in very critical condition, I am thinking of you, and remembering all the years of life we've shared together. And I am so grateful for the forgiveness, the humility, the devotion, the commitment, the wisdom, love and support you have given me through both the good times and hard.

In a world where over half of marriages fall apart when the going gets tough, we have beaten the odds. And I hope we never stop beating them.

I love you Mr. Right! ♥

Grateful for:
1) Doc somehow finding me in this great big world. We were just 18.
2) Unconditional love.
3) Being married to an honest man.

The phoenix is rising

When I make my fabulous toffee, I stir and stir and stir without stopping for a while before there is any noticeable change in the confection. Then gradually, a little patch here and a little spot there starts to shift, as it transforms from mere sugar, butter and water into utter scrumdiddilyumptiousness. The progress is slow initially, but I keep working at it, and soon it picks up and changes more and more rapidly.

Just recently, I've noticed some little pockets of progress in various aspects of my life. Like those patches and spots of change in the toffee, I'm noticing some growth and progress, and this is very encouraging.

For example, it's been a long time since I was genuinely excited about something besides traveling. But I'm actually excited about some mixed-media creative projects that I've thought of doing. And even more exciting to me is that the ideas for them came to me directly, not inspired by anyone else. One project involves stones, one involves sticks, there's a digital one, and some photography ones. And they all have personal meaning to me. I also have a musical thing I want to do, as well as some writing. I've been itching to get to all of this, and am looking forward to school starting next week and having some chunks of time to devote.

This may not sound like a big deal, but for anyone who has struggled with dysthymia as long as I have, it's big. Finding joy in the journey is one thing...and it's easy to see a lot of it in my life. But feeling the joy in the journey, well, that's been just out of reach for a long time.

As my Blue Whisperer said, it sounds like the phoenix is rising.

Grateful for:
1) Studio night, which started this process
2) Loving encouragement
3) Great examples all around

Moments...

...they're all we have



Grateful for:
1) the moments Doc and I share
2) fleeting glimpses of my real self
3) generosity of heart

Mercies

He Knew

For the past week or so I've experienced some serious depression. During work I managed to put on my game face and push things into the background, but the moment I was no longer on duty, I couldn't repress the feelings any more.

Of course like most people, I generally avoid painful things, so instead of dealing with the stuff that was really going on, I focused on more trivial stuff, like losing my wallet. But that was just the "safe" thing to talk about.

I'd been doing pretty well for the last while. It was a good run while it lasted. But I'm also involved in a difficult process of healing and growth too...so allowing space for those feelings, and those hours of tears...well, that's just part of the journey of healing from sexual, physical and emotional abuse. My therapist told me there would be an end to the tears at some point, and to let them come. So I did. And they came. For hour upon hour. In fact there was a salty river running through my house most of Saturday night, till near dawn.

But in those hours when it felt like I was an island of one, I knew I wasn't alone. Though I felt lonely and was in intense emotional pain, when it was hard to ask God for help out of fear of not getting it, He helped me anyway.

First, I forced myself to go to the grocery store shortly before it closed Saturday night and ran into a woman from my church. Our chat was the reason I made myself go to church the next day when I was strongly tempted to justify not going.

Then Doc spent some time talking to me, even though he had to get up in 5 hours and pull a 30+hour shift (during which time he got only 2 hours to rest...he's one overbaked cookie right now). He helped me to keep perspective and hang in there through this process. He helped remind me that depression is an illness, and that I am just sick right now, like having the flu or any other thing. It will pass, and I'm doing what I need to do to heal.

Then in the wee hours of the morning, a beloved friend, my maid of honor at my wedding to Doc, who I have had only intermittent contact with over the past 19 years (and it's been a good 10 years since I saw her), sent me an email in the throes of my long dark night, to tell me "I was on her mind and she just wanted me to know how much she loves me". It'd been better part of a year since our last contact.

And then another darling friend sent me a note of support, and a link to a great talk which I read before finally going to sleep.

Then in the morning my sweet children came in and snuggled with me, one on either side, and I felt enveloped by loves.

I even got myself to church, albeit looking something like this picture. My eyes were so puffy that I put sunglasses on to disguise them, and actually ended up wearing them through the entire service. Yes. Like a freakin' movie star hiding from the paparazzi. Haggard isn't a look I'm comfortable with.

When Sacrament meeting was over, a friend sought me out and invited me to walk with her to her house to take some rolls out to rise. She lives very close, so it didn't take long, and we attended the rest of our services together.

After church another friend called who had seen me from a distance but not had the chance to say hi...just to see how I'm doing.

All of these tender mercies were, I know, my Heavenly Father's way of reaching me, when I was too numb to feel much at all. And it occurred to me that He Knew the whole time that my wallet, the loss of which I focused on rather than what I was actually struggling with, was sitting safely in the TSA office in Boston, and that I'd get it back this week intact. He Knew all weekend that I would make it through this round of intense feelings of anguish. And He Knew that He would inspire people to connect with me.

One of my favorite quotes is "Sometimes the Lord calms the storm, and sometimes He calms his child." As much as I would enjoy a life without storms (at least for a little while), I'm very grateful for His Calming of this child.

Grateful for:
1) Keri
2) Anika
3) Marilynne
4) Maren
5) Heather
6) Marki
7) John
8) Robin
9) Nate
10) Sunnshine
11) Frank
12) Gator
13) Bunch
14) Doc

Itemized list

Missing Items

I've been in a low place all day. Part of it is the annoyance I feel with myself over losing so many important things. So to put it in perspective, I'm going to brainstorm and make a list of everything I had in my wallet that I will likely never see again.

• Driver's license. Does this mean I get a new picture?! (Looking for the silver linings here)
  
• AMEX (which I just replaced a week ago after it had been MIA for a month)
• MasterCard
• Credit Union ATM card
• Bank ATM card
• Costco card
• Smiths Grocery Store Valued Customer card
• Albertsons Grocery Store Valued Customer card
• Insurance card
• Prescription Meds card
• Temple Recommend
• Library Cards for myself and both kids
• Separate card with all our library account numbers written on it in case I ever don't have the actual cards
  
• Photos of my kids
• Our New family Photo
• All the darling blank business card-sized note cards my SIL made and gave me. She designed them and they were so cute and perfect for little notes.
  
• Receipts for a bunch of items I was going to return to Michael's Craft Store
• Coupons for a few favorite items that I planned to use this weekend.
• A $5.Target Gift Card that JetBlue gave me as a thank you for eight years of service as a flight attendant. Yeah, I was bowled over by the immensity of it too.
  
• Punch card (completely full) for $10 off my next purchase at Thrift Town, where I buy most of our clothes. Took me forEVer to fill that punch card up. So bummed.
  
• Punch cards (yes, two) for free Golden Spoon yogurts...my favorite yogurt place in CA
• My Free Meal card (one stamp away) at Cafe Rio
• Various business cards for people I interact with (doctors, etc)
• An excellent variety of cloth bandages for cuts, scrapes etc.
• A parking token for free parking in a downtown garage
• A button that fell off a coat that I meant to sew on.
  
• A few of the rare $2.00 bills, which I liked giving as special tips, and would have used tonight when I played Tooth Fairy. (Gator lost another tooth!)
  
• A quote about faith that was typed up with a tiny, actual mustard seed taped to it.
  
• One half of a twenty-dollar bill. My friend Mare has the other half. We tore it apart a long time ago to remind us that life is not about money. I've carried it everywhere for almost a decade, even though I've never been so well-off that twenty dollars wasn't a biggish deal to me. It was symbolic, and I'm going to miss that half-bill.
  
• About forty bucks in cash.
  
• The wallet itself. I bought it on my 40th birthday while Doc and I were out on a date. I really liked it, and now I don't have one.

That's all I can think of off the top of my head. I'm so glad I just returned the camera memory card I'd borrowed from Claudia which was in there for the past 2 months. And I am SO glad I was wearing my ID Badge for work, and had my cell phone in my pocket. Those two items would be such a huge hassle for me.

Nothing too vital was lost. No one died. No one needs surgery. I haven't caught H1N1. No one left me. I have to keep these significant things in mind when I'm feeling down.

Grateful for:
1) Friends
2) Facebook
3) Tender Mercies of the Lord

Lost.

No, not the television show...which I've actually never seen but have heard about from lots of people.

My WALLET. Which is, unfortunately, the most recent member to join The Things That Blue Has Lost club.

Yesterday I tipped the hotel van driver in Boston. Then I flew to New York City. Then I flew to Salt Lake City. Then I picked Doc up from a friend's house. Then I came home and collapsed into bed. Went to pay my mortgage this morning and discovered No Wallet.

In the past month, I have lost, either permanently or temporarily (for at least one day)

1. American Express card.
2. cell phone
3. wallet
4. all my keys
5. my favorite hoodie sweatshirt
6. camera
7. crew luggage food bag
8. glasses
9. library book

I'm about to lose my mind.


I've replaced:

• The AMEX,
  
• The eye glasses
  
• The keys

I eventually found:

• my cell phone
• my favorite hoodie (well, it is at my friend in Vermont's house still)
• my crew luggage food bag
• my camera

so that just leaves the library book and My WaLLeT...which has a lot of StUFf in it.

Doc says I'm not the problem, it's that The System isn't working. I need a new purse that closes, and consistent habits. But I confess to wondering if there's actually something completely wrong with my head.

Grateful for:

1. Credit Card Companies who protect their member's
2. That as annoying as this is, it's not significant in the big picture. We are enjoying good medical health, and that's not insignificant.
   
3. My Sister & Brother-in-law and their amazing family. Being with them is my kid's favorite thing after being at home. They've been watching them an awful lot for me lately.
4. Three solid days on terra firma before I start flying all night again next week.
   

PS: I did find out that one is able to deposit money into any account one likes, without ID. Such fortune! So feel free to make any contributions you like to...I'm hApPY to supply the account number just for the asking.

PPS: one thing I didn't lose but managed to find during this same time period is a solid 12 pounds. This has not been one of my happier seasons.

On a wing and a prayer

I am taking the months of September, October and November off from flying, so I'm working more hours in August than I have ever worked before to compensate (a little bit) for that.

As such, I'm a bit AWOL right now. Just wanted to let my (two) readers know why I'm not on here much. And if I did have lots of time, probably what is going on in my head wouldn't be fit for my world-wide-audience (of two). So I'll be back when I'm done zipping back and forth across the skies and have time to string some coherent thoughts together. Enjoy the last weeks of summer!

Grateful for:
1) My journal
2) My job
3) Indoor plumbing