Dear Asshole,

I wrote this today, while I was getting ready for work. It happened last Saturday at an event with friends where I normally feel very safe, due to the environment filled with burners. Just like anywhere else, there are assholes. Forevermore referred to as THE ASSHOLE, I have changed his name in the spirit of privacy.

"Hey THE ASSHOLE. Do you remember grabbing my ass while I was watching (my bf run his super fun game that folks love) at (event)? I do. I remember being shocked. I remember feeling violated. I remember thinking about it last night as I went to sleep because I wish I hadn't smiled at you when you did it. I remember wishing I'd punched you in the face, though I know I could never do that. Just like I can't say this to your face. Just like I couldn't not smile at you. Why I'm a victim. I'm going to try really hard to forgive you and I'll tell you why: Because you don't know that I am an abuse survivor. You don't know that I just finalized a painful divorce from my abuser. You don't know that I have two teen aged kids who I'm trying to co-parent with my abuser, and in particular a teenage daughter who I hope and wish and pray does not become a victim like me. You don't know that I work for a mental health recovery center with people who are also survivors of abuse and the results of it, among other painful mental health issues, to try to give back to all the people who have helped me in my recovery over the years. I'm going to try really hard to forgive you because somewhere in your brain you thought it was ok to put your hands on me, and I thought I'd help by letting you know that it is never, ever ok to touch anyone without consent. And that silence is not consent. I apologize for not being brave enough to say this to your face, but just typing it to you has helped me kick start the painful process of letting the abuse of my past go, again, along with the other painful memories I have. I wish you well in your recovery."

I froze when he touched me. One of my best friends, and a coworker, pointed out to me that freezing is "flight" in the fight or flight reaction.

When I was in 9th grade, a boy grabbed my ass in the hallway at school. I spun around and screamed at him at the top of my lungs.

What happened to me between there and here? Where is that strong, young girl who was able to react instantly to that violation? What the fuck?

I need to find her.

I'm afraid of what THE ASSHOLE's response is going to be. I'm afraid of what will happen in response. I'm making up stuff to worry about, I know. Probably nothing will happen but thank the tiny baby jesus I've gotten it off my chest.

Pity Party FFS

(PS: Burning Man was enlightening, as usual, and great! I wanted to put that first so I didn't interfere with the pity party below.)

I’ve been depressed about some issues with Son. He’s having a tough time in school which is pretty typical for this time of year, but he’s also got some issues going on, including intimidating me and Daughter when he doesn’t get what he wants, that makes his therapist think he may be developmentally delayed. He’s due for his psych test through the school district, and he’s scheduled. So, as a result I’ve been depressed and have gained weight from emotional eating again, and am considering going back on the anti-depressants my doc put me on after the divorce. I don’t know. Maybe I should try to start exercising again first to see if that helps, or should I do both? There is a really mean voice in my head that tells me taking antidepressants is giving in. How fucked up is that?? I’m also premenstrual, but I was feeling depressed before that. It’s my voice again coming up with reasons why I shouldn’t take them and take care of myself. I’m having trouble at work too, I’m bored and annoyed, and I know that much of it is that there is so much crap in my head I don’t want anyone else’s. It’s too hard to deal with my own lately. The other thing is that antidepressants aren’t in my budget. More stupid voice.

Thanks for listening.