Life Stuff

That's the pie, in a little pie carrier thing, that I brought to work for a potluck lunch today.  I did not eat one single morsel of it!  Yikes.  I got a ride in to work with my daughter today.  She had a meeting in my building.  She got invited (by people other than me) to the potluck.  We got to sit together - with people who know us separately.  It was fun to watch them look at us and realize how much we look alike.  Enjoying a lunch with super smart funny clever people is fun.  These people are running vast enterprises.  I like being around them.  In my old job, I worked with super smart funny clever people, but they were all doctors and that can get tedious.  Missing my daughter is one of the hardest parts of my new job - we used to work in the same building and go out for lunch almost every day.

Today was a good day at work.  Tomorrow will be something.  I have a class in the morning and then I am going to observe a site visit of a doomestic violence shelter.  I hope this does not prompt more PTSD, but I wouldn't be surprised if it does.

I can change who I am today, but I can never change the experiences I have had.  There was probably a time when I would have told you I was grateful for all of my experiences because they made me who I am.  But I think I could have been who I am without having endured loving a man who broke my bones.  I think I could have been who I am without having been raped.

Oh, I know... we will not regret the past nor wish to shut the door on it.  We will see how our experience can benefit others.  I have experienced that.  I continue to experience that.

I wonder how it is that I find myself involved with a doomestic violence program as part of my job.  I can handle the mental health portion of my job - it is what I have been doing for the last 18 years.  This other thing?  Throws me for a loop.  I will get used to it.

A couple of years ago, I underwent a specific therapy for PTSD.  When we began, I was to name a "safe place."  I thought I should think up something impressive (like a desert island), but all I could think of was my bedroom.  In the summer, it is a slice of heaven with the window open, the sheers floating in the breeze, and the ceiling fan humming.  In the winter it is still nice.  I am so grateful I named that as my safe place.  It is right behind me now as I write, and in a minute I am going to go lay my body on my bed.

My body is safe, warm, clean, and unthreatened.  My bed is safe, warm, clean, and unthreatening.   I have every single thing I need in this moment.

I thank God for this, and another blessed day of sobriety.  xoxox