The Results

- This is the answer to my experiment –

We judge people and condemn people with our judgments and opinions. Sometimes we need, or use, a consensus to condemn a person. Once condemned, how does a person escape the confines of condemnation? The guilty are convicted by the innocent? Who is innocent? Is my sin worse than yours? Is it difference in sin which makes us innocent or is it the consensus of the time which determines our condemnation? I'm not speaking on criminal acts. Criminal acts cannot begin to equal the condemnation and accusations we place on subjects and each other every day. Most of the time these judgments and opinions are invalid.
Sarah, you know better than anyone how awful it is to be accused. People have read your story and come back to me asking, "How didn't you know?" I say, "know what?" They say, "know your friend did all of those horrible things." I always respond to those people the same, " I don't know if she's done anything." It amazes me how a person who wasn't somewhere can no more than a person who was. How do you know anything outside your own experience?
Amy's party was fun. Tiffany and I saw a lot of our old friends from group and a lot of my co-workers were there. Amy and I had a real good talk about things in general. I realized during our conversation that her transition was taking a little longer than mine. It's equivalent to me graduating from college starting my new life and career, while she's still at college trying to decide her major. Instead of me understanding where I came from and the process it took me to get there, I treated the situation with arrogance and disdain. I viewed Amy's struggle to find herself with condemnation. During our talk, I removed my opinions and judgments which allowed me to hear her words in a new way. I no longer heard her as a selfish, confused, good for nothing person. I now heard her as someone who still struggled to find the things which make her happy. Someone who went through this struggle just like me.
Amy and I made plans to have dinner in the future. Nothing on the books yet but these are plans I definitely intend to keep. You see, Amy understands where am in my life. Amy knows that I had graduated and found what I was looking for way back then. She told me she hoped to find a relationship which can give her comfort. She still spoke about guys who could care less about her, but I didn't say anything. I figured she find what she wanted someday.
Sometimes in life we don't allow people to be who they are. We expect them to have the same way of understanding life that we do but that's just not always the case. We can't apply our way of thinking and processing information to someone else's way of thinking and processing information. This is not so much a blow to them as it is to us. Us being the people who apply unfair standards to people who don't deserve our judgments and opinions. We do grow past people but that doesn't mean our little brothers and sisters don't need our guidance and support. They don't need us to tell them what to do. They just need us to be there. We have to understand there's a difference in giving someone credit for being a good person vs. them doing what we think they should do. I'd rather have one really good person than a thousand people I can tell what to do. If you dislike a good person because they're not who you think they should be, then you should evaluate your judgments and opinions.
I'm here Cuddlebug. I miss you so much. I hope this serves you well wherever you are. I know we're underneath the same sun, standing on the same earth, and that's what makes me feel close to you. Love you Cuddlebug.

The Experiment

There's this woman at my job named Amy. Every time I see her, it seems to bother me. I purposely avoid her. We used to be friends and in her mind, it seems we still are. She just doesn't get it. She'll text me and I refuse to respond. She'll ask me, "Did you get those texts?" and I'd tell her, "Yeah, but I'm really busy." I'll say it hoping she gets upset so we can fight and I will have a good reason not to talk to her. It's not that she's a bad person. She's a good spirit, but she gets on my nerves. I can't say anything without her already knowing the answer. I feel like I shouldn't even have a conversation with her. We had a lot in common years ago.

Amy and I both used to attend the same divorce group. We also worked the same shift at the hospital. We were the best of friends. That time proved to be a very difficult transition for me. I found Tiffany and together Tiffany and I found love. Amy didn't fit in that equation. I feel bad. The more time Tiffany and I spent together the less time I spent with anyone else. That's how the equation added up. In the beginning, I did my best to make time for Amy. I'd go out with her when I should have been in bed. I'd go out with her and wished I hadn't said yes. It wasn't the same. The bars and clubs we went to were all places she felt comfortable. Originally, she introduced me to these places and at the time of my transition, those places were fun. I enjoyed our time together. Our nights out became a wonderful distraction for me and then my transition became complete. I met Tiffany and came into myself. I finally understood myself. I began to understand my likes and dislikes. I began to understand my needs, wants, and desires. No longer did I live for someone else. No longer did I live to please someone else and sacrifice my life to do so. I got to know me and fell in love with myself. The bars and clubs didn't feel right anymore. I began to see Amy and her lifestyle in a new light, and I couldn't stand it.

In the years since then, Amy has continued being the same way. She goes out all the time and refuses to commit to anything. She meets a guy and he's either the man of her dreams or somebody she spends all her free time with and refuses to commit to. The man of her dreams always seems to be someone who could care less about her but she conjures up at deeper relationship in her mind. One guy she'd only seen six times and she was calling him her soul mate. She compared their relationship to me and Tiffany's. The guy didn't even give her his real name. Next thing I know, he's gone and she's holding on to hope of his return. Then the guy she spends all of her free time with can't get a commitment from her. She hangs out at the same clubs and bars we went to years ago. It's pathetic.

I'm not a mean person Cuddlebug. I feel bad about the way I have been treating her. I am one who believes that when we have a problem with someone it's because we want a problem with them. When you already have negative thoughts about someone, then your approach to them is negative. If your approach to someone is negative, then your interaction with them is negative. That person can never do anything right in your eyes. Some things they do are only annoying because it's them the doing it. If someone we favor does the same thing someone who annoys us does, our response is different. I recognize this and I don't want to have a negative response every time I see this woman who I used to call friend. Tiffany gave me some good advice. She told me to interact with her on a positive note and be honest about my feelings. She told me it's not always another person's fault when you feel a certain way. The reason she's so annoying is because that's what I made her out to be.

Amy invited me out for a drink this weekend. It's her birthday. Last year, I told her I couldn't make it. Not very many people showed and I wasn't surprised. I'm going to go this year and because of Tiffany's great advice, she's coming too. I think I need to be more supportive to Amy like she was to me when I needed her. We'll see Cuddlebug. I have to find a sitter. I'll let you know how it goes. Wish me luck. I miss you.

Take Your Power Back

It's late. I'm watching television. Can't sleep. You know how my sleeping patterns are, Cuddlebug. My demons come and I'm haunted. My eyes close and I see it. I feel it. I hear it. I want to escape it. I can't get away from my own mind. My own thoughts. The therapy doesn't always work. Sometimes I wish I was still getting high because it was a sure way to escape him. I could see him and smell him on top of me. I hated myself for so long because sometimes it felt normal. I'd close my eyes and imagine I was someplace else or he was someone else. I felt like trash. My body turned against me. He'd send my Mom out and I knew it was only a matter of time. I always wore so many layers of clothes. It never helped. I just wanted to cover up. I didn't like taking a shower. He took that from me. He's the one who terrorized my sleep. I'd wake up with his hands down my pants. He would come up to my room almost every night. I tried to fall asleep downstairs, or sleep on the floor in my room. Nothing worked. People tell me they can't understand how I let it go on for so long. Yes, my ex-husband said that to me. Until you've lived with an abuser, you don't know the power they have over you. I felt ashamed. I felt weak. I didn't want to hurt my Mom. I just know I wasn't the only one who went through this. It made it normal. It's just that sick! I felt like that was how things were supposed to be. When my ex-husband tried to touch me, I felt sick. I hated it. I loved him. I still love him. My ex-husband is a good man, but I can be no man's wife. It's too painful for me. No matter how much I block it out. He always comes back.
When I finally told my mom about it, he had been long gone from her. He left her shortly after I ran away. Some other girl became his next victim, but she was stronger than me. She went to the police. Before he could go to trial, he shot himself.
He robbed me of so much and in the end I wasn't able to have my victory. He even robbed me of that. I couldn't wait to show him how strong of a person I am. My ex-husband felt relieved. He said he didn't know if he could have refrained himself from attacking that bastard.
I felt unsatisfied because it seemed like he still won. He didn't have to face it. I felt like I let that other girl down by not saying something. Had I said something earlier, she wouldn't have went through the same thing I went through. I talked to her a while back and she told me it wasn't anybody's fault but his. I can't say I agree. I feel like I could have stopped him. I wish I hadn't been so weak.
In my counseling, I have learned I am a survivor. Other women like me have said they felt the same way. Yes, I felt weak all those years. My regret comes from hindsight. That's where the nightmares come from. I think about all of the times I could have ended it, but I didn't do it. I ran away and now I'm haunted thinking about what I should have done. If there is any young girl out there who's going through something like I went through, please, please, please tell somebody. Let somebody know. Take your power back. Don't let your abuser get away. Take your power back. You are not a victim. It is not right. Your abuser is a coward and once you take your power back you will see. Trust me. You have power.

These sleeping pills are starting to work, Cuddlebug. I'm going to try and get some rest. I'm still hoping you contact me again. It's been a week with no word. I'm still waiting. I miss you.

Questions / Answers

Sarah, I've been struggling with telling you something since starting this blog. Anyone who's read your diary knows. You know. It's about the baby. You've probably been waiting on me to tell you what happened. I've been struggling to tell you because I am ashamed Sarah. I hate what I've done. There's so much to tell you. I don't know where to begin?
When I left you that night, I was in a lot of pain. It was my step-father. In all of the years since that last night we were together, I have come to understand all of the pain I was in at that time. I drank and smoked to escape my reality. Even when I got away from him I tried to escape the reality of what had happened to me. It played over and over like a horror movie. The only way I could escape was to block it out. The only way I could look in the mirror was to block it out. I don't know when or how it happened because I would block it out. That's where my black-outs come from. I didn’t want to leave you. Your parents were gone and now, in hindsight, I wish I hadn't left you but I was in so much pain I wouldn't have done you very much good. My heart still stays heavy with burden. I couldn’t tell my mother. I didn't tell my mother until the day I saw that squirrel in the park. I gave my baby up for adoption six months after I left you. The baby was born addicted to drugs. I'm a horrible person for what I did to that child. My child. My unborn child was punished by me and my pain. I hurt my baby, Sarah. I closed my eyes when the nurse took her away. I couldn't look. I left that hospital empty and numb. I had no more tears to cry. That's when my drug habit spiraled out of control.
When I found out I was pregnant I was horrified. I've never had sex with anyone else other than him and I'd been doing it since I was 12-years-old. I never told you. I hated going home. I hated sex. I hated myself. I hated my mother. I hated everything but you, Sarah. You were the first person in a long time to touch my life who was real. When I told him I was pregnant and I didn't know what to do, he slapped me and called me a whore. He accused me of sleeping around. I felt like I'd done something wrong.
The first place I ran was to you. I wanted to stay with you and your family, but when you said your uncle wanted to call my parents I had to leave. I didn't want to risk him finding out where I was.
I don't know why I did it either. I'm sorry for leaving but I had to Cuddlebug. It had to end that night.
Sometimes I wonder what became of my little girl. I wonder what she looks like. I wonder how she's doing. I wonder . . . I'm mad at myself for what I did to this innocent child. I'm mad at myself for how I felt about this child. My child. I hated her, Sarah. I hated my own daughter. I didn’t know. I was a kid. I hated her for what I felt she was. Every day I looked at my growing stomach and hated myself. I felt dirty. I felt slimy. Watching her grow inside me. When she moved I felt sick. I used drugs. Now I realize she didn't deserve that. Back then, I knew she didn't deserve that. It's why I couldn't look at her when she was born. I know she was innocent and she didn't deserve the way I treated her for those brief moments when we were together. I wonder how she's doing 'cause I hope she's in a better place. I hope she's in a place where she's happy. I know she probably wonders about me. I know she wonders why I did what I did. Truthfully, I hope she never has to see me because I'm the worst person she ever could see. I have to go, Cuddlebug. I hope you can forgive me. I'm sorry.

Clean & Sober

I witnessed two people arguing today. Husband and wife. The argument wasn't a yelling match. There wasn't any pushing and shoving. If you weren't paying attention you may have missed it. You know how I saw it Sarah. The game …I still play. I still watch the people move about around me. I glimpse outside my life at the world around me. I read your diary and I noticed that you mentioned the game, but you left out some details. Since we discovered the diary, that part has troubled me the most. I wonder how much else is missing that I don’t know. There were other parts that bothered me also, but I don't want to discuss those things right at this moment. It's the profile game.

Well Sarah, with age, the game we played together so many years ago has evolved. When we were young it was about something else. We were adolescents. We looked at the world selfishly. We looked at only the people around us instead of looking at the world around us. (Now that I'm older, I see better. Not literally cause my vision has gotten a little worse. I wear glasses now.) We were missing a lot when playing our game. We didn't see the trees, we didn't see the bugs, we didn't see the animals like birds and squirrels. We only saw the people. It took me a long time to finally see past the people. I was sitting in Golden Gate Park waiting on the sun to come up. It was one night of many I'd wandered the streets of San Francisco all night long. I found refuge in the parks around the city; landmarks and monuments. I remember sitting in the park being glad it wasn't cold and foggy. Then a squirrel poked its head from around a tree. I looked at the squirrel and thought what its life must be like. Does it feel love? Does it worry? It was obvious the squirrel was in the same place with me physically, but it was not in the same place with me mentally. The squirrel lived in the park and I was a visitor. It climbed up the tree and disappeared. Then I thought . . . how long has that tree been there? The world seemed to open up to my young mind in that moment. I became clean and sober that day.

You see, Sarah, I was in a lot of pain. I would wander those streets in search of temporary solutions to long-term problems. Getting high. Getting drunk. Being intoxicated gave me relief. I didn't have to face myself. I didn't have to participate in real life. My routine gave me purpose. My mission every day was to get high or get enough money to do so. I chased the high every day 'till I found it. The chase and the accomplishment of the score gave me satisfaction. Almost everyone who suffers from addiction follows this pattern. The game we discovered so long ago brought me to the place I am today. That squirrel and that tree . . . I saw my purpose of existence through them. I realized I was not born into this world to chase a high. I was not born into this world to become an addict. I called my Mom and checked into rehab that day. I didn't wander the streets like that ever again.

Yeah, I still find myself observing people. That's why I noticed the couple arguing. I saw their wedding rings and their married chemistry. There were arguing over spending. The wife had spent too much money and the husband was upset. I thought about the squirrel. I wonder how many arguments the squirrel has gotten in with his mate? I love you, Cuddlebug. TTYL.