click here 2 Begin

"know it would be outrageous
to come on all courageous
& offer you my hand
to pull you up on dry land
when all i got is sinking sand
the trick aint worth the time it buys
i'm sick of hearing my own lies
& loves a raven when it flies."
davidGray

when i began writing entries it was purely for my own selfish purpose& a way for me to process. i have dissected past relationships; frogs in junior biology class. defining your life forever, who will become doctors & those who run into the bathroom wishing they had never seen the delicate workings of a small frog. til i can write the uglyTruth of humanity that we seem to take with us. MyLai* that took place in iraq last fall. the first time in years i am sitting writing in candleLight for those who where massacred ironically by marine's, those that carry their pain-using it as leverage against others& myself.

i am still dissecting my past, strand by strand-when you are diagnosed with PostTraumaticStressDisorder you are given the gift of a nearly photographic memory. when it's acute it shatters reality taking you away from the people you care about & where you are. as you start to heal, you still see & smell things because your brain chemistry has been altered. the best way i can describe my senses are i innately know how h&h bagels smell-when i haveNot smelled them for months, years. the same goes for trauma memories-before i walked into therapy a few years ago touch& smell would trigger flashbacks, episodes of an event from my past. now, i have very few episodes, usually my body will tell me, but my mind won't go into the memory.

a few years ago i read infiniteJest-a monumental read, a thousand pages of what my childhood felt like mixed in with a broken heart; symbolically shaken like a martini. those where days when i was first diagnosed with FMS* my body screaming when i wouldn't allow myself to feel my stress & pain, when a long couch was more comfortable than facing my splintered reality on the outside. i can still re-call my first run, early spring; i put on my 10 year old hummel pants, crappy sneakers, a sweater & headed west. by the time i hit the beach, tears where falling down my face, beingpelted with cold early spring rain. i met a man walking his dog-showed me a great staircase i still run to this day. i now see this as an omen.

my favorite working pants a pair of BrownKhaki's, bought a few summers ago-on a whim because i like to surprise those i care about @ random. they're wide, paint splattered-i will never throw them away because of what i was taught. sitting here writing this sometime after midnight-i finally get what i didn't get then. i only hope that davidGray's words will give me the strength to stop fearing my heart falling; that itIs okay toTrust&Love. taking a turn on my 6 mile loop greeted by the olympic mountains-a marina & infinite blue sky& gusting northeastern wind aPerfectDay.. i will savor slow waltzes in bed, groggy voices waking me in the morning. grace of yoga moves by candlelight.

FootNotes:
*My Lai-a village in Viet-Nam where civilians where brutally shot by Charlie &Bravo Company on March 16, 1968; the villages of My Lai & My Khe. i recommend Four Hours In My Lai; by M. Bilton & K. Sim.

*Infinite Jest; David Foster Wallace copyright 1996. a books about a tennis academy adjacent to a rehab center; set in boston's north suburb.

*FMS-Fibromyalgia Syndrome-a stress related rheumatoid arthritic syndrome that is common with people diagnosed with trauma related illnesses.