Day to Day

Day 14: Laundry day (among many other events, but this one precedes all others in my mind for some reason). Upon arrival two weeks ago, I dragged my suitcases up the stairs, dropped them on the floor, and kept them shut because I am convinced once suitcases are open, they throw up their contents upon the floor, where it will remain until everything is shoved back in again. It is inevitable - suitcases always throw up. So today, when I stepped out of my very warm, snuggly bed, onto my clothes ridden floor, I decided it was time to clean up the mess. I 'sorted' through my clothes, trying to discern what was still wearable, what wasn't, and simply converged the mess into one big pile. Might as well throw it all in the wash...

My entire body aches today with that wonderful post-workout feeling. Muscles in my back, arms, shoulders, and legs all burn - I smile. I've set certain goals, I won't be satisfied until they are met. I started my MMA (mixed martial arts) classes yesterday, and although I was incredibly intimidated walking into a very male dominated setting, I found myself relaxing quite a bit once the circuits started. It is a very small class, only three students including myself, two instructors. There is actually another woman in the class which eased my nerves considerably.

I loved the class, loved the work out and sweat that I rarely achieve (only on the toughest of work outs do I actually start to sweat. I always feel I've accomplished something great when my training causes this), but I have such a contrast of mindsets during it. In some ways, punching and kicking were such awesome ways to release suppressed anger. I realized very quickly how much anger I actually possess doing this. I kept imagining different things, hearing past conversations, seeing past events play through my mind. I became focused, driven - a madwoman. One, two, one, two, three, four, three, three! Punch, kick, punch, punch, kick the shit out of that bag, Tiffany. It works and it is so fulfilling. Still, I could not help but think I may begin to relive certain things that occurred this summer - I may freak out. I hate losing control, I hate becoming weak. I fought so hard, I kicked, I punched...this class shows me what I could have done, and it is good; it is scary. I'm scary. I really am...

I feel as though I've secluded myself, sent myself away for a time. There are few people I let in - thoughts are reluctant, talking scarce. I do not talk to many any longer...I was burned badly, criticized and reprimanded the last time I did. More like taken to the chopping block. I just don't...trust. I'm afraid.

Frustration is a companion that never leaves me. I am trying to negotiate it, cope with its effects on me, but I'm failing fast. Often, I wake to myself crying out - whether in fright, frustration, or pain, I do not really know. I'm fighting the sheets, grabbing air, battling the man who used me savagely for his own perverted will. I'm scary. I really am...

We got a puppy today - an English Cocker Spaniel. His name is Lewis and already he has captured the heart of this family. He is very quiet, very adorable. I find his simplicity exactly what I need for a distraction, his devotion exactly what I need for my emotions.



To my love: I miss you, I think of you relentlessly. You are steadfast, wonderful, and I love you. I cannot wait to be with you everyday. Think of me babe and eagerly look forward to the future - it is bright, wonderful, and unexpected.