November

As a bit of darkness comes back to my edges it feels very real. If I allow myself to sink into it, will I find all of the unexpressed, unwanted and unknown thoughts and feelings from a moment in time that I’d rather stay well away from? Every November I find myself circling back to it in the deep stillness of the night. I play it over and over, the vivid and the murky memories, never really sure what I’m searching for. What is it that I’m unwilling to claim? What is it that I’m unable to let go of? Today may not be the day where answers will come, but it feels good to write about it.

I've been trying to find my place in it all, coming back to wonder whether certain things I did or didn't do in the lead up to the gang rape somehow contributed to how it all played out. Actually, what I would really like is to find a way to forgive myself. I thought that I had, but this year's 'theme' seems to be all about self-recrimination.

I worked on a mixed-media painting this week, with the intention of stepping toward the part of myself that I feel resistant about. When I thought about what I don't like or don't want, the feelings that come up are vulnerability and shame. I don't like that I couldn't find a way out of that situation. I don't like that I wasn't in control. I don't like that I was overpowered, outnumbered, exposed.

I wondered about what the barrier looked like and it wasn't a wall. It looked like water. I am terrified of water. Water feels like not being able to breathe, it feels like being held under. It feels like being water boarded with beer. It's the plan they had to dump my body in the lake.

When I painted I thought that I would find self-compassion, but instead there is a lot of displaced anger.