Music to soothe the savage beast: River of Tears (live) : Clapton

Long day today. I�m a bit tired. I went to work this morning and had everything that I could do, done, within three hours. That includes the books, the filing, bills, deposits and reconciling accounts. Lot of work things, little time. Very nice.

Right now, I�m sitting here, listening to this incredible guitar and piano, feeling the rifs move me. I�m moving my head in time and in the motion dictated by the music. Mmmmm, I so love Clapton. AS if you couldn�t tell.

I spent a large part of today sitting at Chuck�s drinking coffee. Of course, I also walked ten blocks to my appointment, then walked the ten blocks back to Chuck�s. It was a good day, but my knees, hips, ankles and back hurt quite a bit. So much for walking a lot.

I had a conversation with one of my mentors. I use the term mentor because that is the position she is in, not necessarily because I placed her there.

Regardless, we were discussing life. She wanted to know what was different. It struck me today...

I�m not ashamed of what I look like. It wasn�t so long ago that I was still quite ashamed of my appearance. I still am not keen on the fact that I�m 130 lbs overweight. BUT, I like me. This is such a new experience that I feel like saying it a lot. I�ll try to cut back on my enthusiasm though, for all of you folks who have known this for years upon years.

I can feel the desire to sing again. Not just hear something nice and hum a long, but to actually, curl-your-toes kind of desire. I feel the passion in the music again. I feel awake. I feel like moving to the music, letting the music pull me into my own exquisite world. I like me.

Anyway, I was discussing this with my mentor. I said that the difference in my life, over just the past few weeks, actually, was that I like me. I�m not ashamed of the way I look. I�m not embarrassed to be me. The long and short of it is this...

Music to soothe the savage beast: While My Guitar Gently Weeps : Clapton

I don�t need to escape anymore. I can do everything I want to. I can fly if I want to.

But I told her that I liked me. She said she liked me too. I said that that was two people, surely that was enough. She said she was sure my mom liked me too, as did another woman in the office. I agreed and said that there were people in this town with whom I spoke face to face. And they liked me. They actually sought out my company. I said that there were people of high value and above reproach who enjoyed my friendship. And therefore, I had finally realized that I have real and true value!

Mrs. Hoagie was wrong! She was wrong then, and she is wrong now. And I realize that.

Yes, so you who enjoy my company, those of you who enjoy my words, you have known this all along. Wonderful. I thank you so much for putting up with the whiny, simpering nature I sometimes showed. Thank you for being patient enough to wait until I realized what you already knew.

Music to soothe the savage beast: Cat�s in the Cradle : Ugly Kid Joe version

I was asked by my mentor if I wanted to have children. I said yes, after I had a home, a husband, a steady source of income and physical health. I said that the big things were already fixed. I am now mentally and emotionally healthy. Those were the hardest. Next is physically. And I am getting more and more physically healthy every single day.

After that? The financial stability thing. That one I�ve already started working on too. And you know what? I�ve changed the image I have in my mind of the physical body I want. Instead of the tall, svelte, Linda Carter - WonderWoman body, I am going for the more realistic and appropriate for my bone structure, Rosie O�Donnel shape.

I think that�s a more realistic goal, and I think she looks good. She has a shape that�s attractive to me. Oh, C�mon, you know what I mean. *grins*

Anyway, I like who I am. Reading Davey and Lee�s diaries and thinking about them, along with last night�s entry... I have realized that I�m not a person people just put up with. AND, because of that, I shouldn�t �put up� with me either. If I value the opinions of those who I consider friends and who consider me friend, could their judgment really be so bad? Maybe I should listen to what my friends aren�t actually saying more often, hmm?

Music to soothe the savage beast: How Do You Like Me Now : Toby Kieth

I like me. Yes, I know I�ve said it too often for some. I know that I�m just rambling about this, but I�ve got a sappy grin on my face, as if sharing a not-quite secret with a friend. I keep saying it over and over to myself, amazed that it�s true. And then the logical side of me shakes its head, laughing, saying, �Well, Duh!�

*grins*

All the people who told me I was not good enough... All those who said I was less than in some way... How silly it was for me to believe you. How silly and foolish it was for me to believe that your opinion was more important than my own. I like me. And if you don�t, that�s okay. Because you don�t have to like me. I like me enough for both of us!

Music to soothe the savage beast: I Wanna Talk About Me : Toby Kieth

I feel a lot like I hear many young women feel when they get engaged. I hear stories about women who sit there for hours on end, writing their name as it would be married. Writing with hyphen, without hyphen, combined, separate... All the different ways to put on the new life.

I feel like those people I�ve heard about who actually enjoy shopping. Not necessarily buying things, but going shopping. I hear about people who actually go to a store to try on different clothes. And they talk about it with a sparkle in their eyes and joy in their voice. I feel like that in regard to me.

I feel like I have a best friend now. One who will never desert me. One who will always understand me. And I like me a lot. *grins*

Yeah, stupid from certain perspectives... but it works.

Music to soothe the savage beast: You�re Not Alone : Paul Oakenfeld & Olive

You know... The difference... I�ve finally realized what it truly is. I�ve mentioned it before, but it didn�t click.

I have passion back.

Again, I�m not talking about something as simple or banal as sex. I�m talking about that true, from the heart, passion which motivates, encourages and enlivens people. That kind of passion you can feel from a person... a thirst for life. A joy and a power which come over you simply because you�re breathing. I feel like splashing through a bunch of puddles.

I feel like playing on the monkey bars. I feel like sledding down a snow-covered hill. I feel like dancing. Do you know how long it�s been since I felt like dancing? Just getting up out of my chair and moving my body in a little dance.

I have passion once again. I have life flowing through my veins.

I sincerely hope that someone reading this sees the difference between last year and this year. I sincerely hope that someone sees how big a difference there is between the first few entries I posted and these, nearly two years later. I hope someone sees, from that, that no matter how bad life is, you can always recover.

I remember that four years ago today, I was sitting at a desk in a filthy room, miserable and defeated. I was role playing Tiger in the Lair because that was the only �life� I had. I was subsisting. I was lonely and alone, but married to a man who worked his ass off to bring home a meager paycheck to a wife who had checked out long, long, long before.

Four years ago today, I was waiting for a ball cap to arrive in the mail because when I got that, my life would change. I knew it. I absolutely knew it had to. I couldn�t go on with my life so wretched as it was. I was waiting for this ball cap because with it came the promise of life and success and love and reality without debilitating, emotional pain.

Music to soothe the savage beast: House Mix : Oakenfeld & D� Mode

There was a man who came into the Lair quite often. He started out as Buzz_Lightyear(some number I can�t remember now) and became __Doug__. For months we talked nightly, RPed and flirted shamelessly. We played the game of the Lair, Truth or Dare. We became very close friends.

By the by, anyone out there know Doug Miller from PA? If you do, tell him Tiger misses him.

Anyway... in the Lair, __Doug__ always came in with his Chicago Bears cap on. Tiger would steal it from him and play keep-a-way with it. Eventually he didn�t fight to get it back. He told me Tig she could have it. Doug was the first person who ever called me Tig. He loved me. Not in that sexual way, but in that... *frowns slightly* He loved me in that kind of, �anywhere, anytime, anything... just call and I�ll be there� way. And ya know what? He would have too. I loved him in that manner too. Still do. If he contacted me out of the blue and said he needed something, I would do everything I could to provide him with it.

Music to soothe the savage beast: Planet Rock : Oakenfeld

So... we would fight, playfully, over this cap in the Lair. And eventually, he let me keep it. Then, what so totally and completely shocked me... He said he was sending me the cap. Through the mail... he was actually going to send me the cap he�d worn for 10 years. The cap he�d held onto through his divorce and pain and difficulty. He�d held on to it and though other�s had tried getting it from him many times... He held on.

He said he was sending it to me. That meant so very much to me. And I promised myself that if someone I�d never seen had THAT much faith in me... if he believed in me so much that he would send his favorite possession to me, then I had to change my life. I had to do something to get better, to... to live.

I promised myself that as soon as I got the hat, I would change my life. The moment I put it on my head, I would use it as a physical focus for getting up in the morning, for excersizing. I would use it as an emotional focus, knowing that someone cared so much for me as a person, that he would give up the one thing that he had held close to him for so long. I would use it as a mental focus, to remind myself that someone else could make it through hell and survive, even thrive... therefore, so could I.

Four years ago today, I was talking with Doug, waiting eagerly for that hat. I wanted it. I wanted to touch it. I wanted to believe Doug when he told me I was important. I wanted to believe him when he told me that if my marriage was important, I had to do everything I could to see it through. I wanted to believe that he would do anything possible for me. And I would believe. I think I thought that the hat would imbue me with power or something. Not quite, but it did give me a focus.

I waited. I so wanted to believe. I knew, that if Doug actually sent the hat, no matter what else happened in my life, at least one person could be believed. AND, that meant that no matter how bad my life got, eventually I would find a way out.

Music to soothe the savage beast: Words (for Love) : Oakenfeld & Van Dyk(e)

On January 13th, I got an envelope in the mail. *grins* Doug had drawn a cartoon super hero on the front, one of his many characters. Supah Dupah Man. *laughs at the memory* When in chat, Supah Dupah Man would smile, with his tooth sparking brightly the way they do in cartoons and corney hero shows. *grins*

Bigger than life, man.

I stared at the envelope and the drawing for a long while, just smiling. Inside was my promise. Inside was my future. All wrapped up in a simple, $15 ball cap. I couldn�t open it for a few moments. I just stared at the envelope. I ran my fingertips over the muscles of Supah Dupah Man a few times, laughing to myself.

Finally, I opened the envelope. I took the cap out. It wasn�t shining. It wasn�t glowing with Magical Powers. I was a simple, plain Chicago Bears cap. For a moment I thought that maybe something had happened to the magical properties I�d built into the hat in my mind when it went through the mail system.

I quickly put that thought behind me, reminding myself that this was a symbol. This was a focus, not a magical item. I reminded myself that it wasn�t going to be an instant change. I reminded myself that this was the symbol of survival. With time, I would be whole once again. With time, I would learn who I was again. With time, I would understand what life meant. And I prayed. I asked God to give me a kick start in the right direction. I told God that I couldn�t do it by myself. I told Him that I needed help.

I put the cap on my head. It felt like a normal cap. I logged on and found Doug almost immediately. I told him I was wearing the cap. I told him that I loved Supah Dupah Man. I told him that the promise was now in my hands.

On January 14th, four years ago, Monday, I went with my father to Salem. I wore the cap. I told myself that my life would never be the same. I told myself that somehow, I would find a way out.

At 6:30pm (approximately) that night, January 14th, 1998, I was sitting in the passenger side of my father�s pick up. We had just finished dinner at SubWay in Brooks, just barely North of Salem. We went East over I-5. We got in the left turn lane. We waited for the traffic to clear. I saw the rain. I had the cap on my head, knowing that sooner or later the magic would happen.

The last car had passed us. Dad started his turn, driving forward. I saw a KenWorth semi (18-wheeler/Shipping truck/big-honkin-monster. Dad kept going. The KenWorth came closer. Dad just started to turn. I saw day light, clear, blue sky. I saw dry. I saw... I saw a miracle. I saw magic.

We were going approximately 15-20 miles per hour. The semi was doing about 40-45. I don�t remember anything after seeing clear daylight. (it was 6:30pm, dark as hell. And it was raining hard)

The accident report said that we made impact at a combined speed of 60+ miles per hour. The accident report said that our F-150 pick up was shoved backward more than 80 feet. The accident report said that the pick up was completely totaled. The accident report said that I was screaming.

I don�t remember. Like I said, I remember bright, clear sky and day light. When not two minutes previous it had been black as pitch and raining hard.

My parents tell me that the police and firemen used the jaws-of-life to get me out of the truck. They had to cut the crushed top of the cab off the truck. The right front of the truck was hit so hard that the bolts holding the engine in place were sheared and the engine was knocked sideways, imbedded in the firewall of the pick up.

I�ve seen the pictures. From the pictures of the truck, it looks like it was a fatality. From the pictures, it looks like no one survived.

I suppose, in a way, that�s true. The person I was, didn�t survive. The person I was died that day.

I promise you, I have NEVER again asked for a �kick start� from God. And I won�t, either!!!

But! The day of the wreck, I was almost 500 lbs. I was so depressed that I would rather die, than tell my father that there was a Semi coming. I was so depressed that I expected, I actually expected a ball cap to come to me, imbued with some special magic. I was disappointed that the cap didn�t glow.

I was wearing the cap though.

I was told by my folks that I was in the hospital in Salem for a few days. The hospital files stated that I was in a �coma-like state� for a week. The hospital papers said that my chances of survival were limited.

But I had that cap.

On the 17th of January, I was transferred from Salem hospital to Harborview Trauma Center. Salem, Oregon to Seattle, Washington. A five+ hour ride in an ambulance. Not the best way to travel, folks. I don�t recommend it.

One shot of morphine before we left Salem. One shot about half way there. We pulled up and I was due for another shot. Didn�t get it. Three hours later, after X-rays, hip/leg manipulation (broken and dislocated) and watching as they shoved a titanium rod through my knee, suspending 30 lbs of traction, I finally got another shot.

My mother remembers sitting in the hall, crying because her �baby� was in pain and the doc�s didn�t give a damn. (her words)

Four days later I had surgery. Two screws to keep the femur attached to the femoral head (the part that sticks in the socket). Then the femoral head was placed back in the hip socket. Nothing quite so humiliating as being catheterized, having hip surgery and being on your period all at the same time. While weighing in at 500 lbs give or take 10.

But, as soon as I came out of surgery, Mom held out the cap to me. I put it on. I got Hydrocodone and Hydrococodone (one is synthetic Vicodan, the other is cocaine based, natural) because I wouldn�t push the button on the Morphine drip. I had (and have) a 13 and a half inch incision (scar) from thigh to hip on my right. The traction had been removed. But I had marks and still have the scars today from where they pushed that rod through.

Two and a half weeks later, I was released from the hospital. The hospital really wanted me to go to a 24/7 nursing care facility. I didn�t have the money or desire. I couldn�t go back to the apartment with Duncan. I needed literal 24/7 care. I couldn�t move by myself. I couldn�t even go to the bathroom by myself.

Two days before they released me from the hospital, they had me try to take a step. I wasn�t allowed to put any weight at all on my foot. In fact, if I had been able to raise my right leg, foot at all, I would have been required to hold it off the ground.

I was assisted off the bed, by a few different people, holding onto an extra-large belt they�d had to search the hospital for. (yeah, yeah, yeah, I know it�s �for which they had to search the hospital� It�s my diary, I can be grammatically incorrect if I want to!) I had a walker there that I was required to hold on to before they would let me slide off the bed, even though they were holding onto that belt and even though my left foot was on the floor, bracing me.

I was told to push the walker forward six inches, put my weight on it, and slide my left foot forward. That was one step. They told me to turn the walker a little and repeat the process. That was two steps. And again and again until I�d �walked� four steps. (I�d actually just gone in a half circle, ending up about 10 inches from the place I�d started) There was a wheel chair with an extra soft foam seat. It was wheeled up behind me. I was instructed to sit back on the wheel chair using my arms to sit back, left side first.

I did that, with the assistants holding my belt so my descent was extremely slow. I sat down after taking a total of about five steps. I was so exhausted that I could barely breathe. I felt pain. I felt humiliated. BUT, I was alive. The nurses, assistants, Mom... they were all so proud of me. They were telling me what a good job I did. I rolled my eyes.

Two days later and about twenty pounds lighter, I was carefully guided into the ambulance on a gurney and driven to my parent�s home in Long Beach. The drive took a good four and a half hours. I think I slept through most of it. I don�t remember.

Man... I never intended to get so.... deeply involved in that story. Yes, I�m cutting myself off for the time being. We�re going to do a fast forward here.

The point to all of this...

I expected a magic answer from the cap. I expected, even though I knew better, I expected it to be magic. To automatically fix my problems. I still have that cap. I still wear it. I still look at it as a symbol of accomplishment. Why? Because here I am, four years later. I can walk. I can wiggle my toes. (Hey, don�t laugh. That�s something I couldn�t do even two years ago)

The magic was not in the hat. The hat was simply a sign that no matter how bad it got, I would survive. And, succeed. Not just survive, not just stay alive, but come out on top and in the end, I would win!

And now? Four years later? I like me.

*grins*

I�m healthy now, Doug. I�m 130 lbs lighter than I was four years ago. I have found the passion once again. I am alive. And I like it!

I like me.