Blah Blah.

Rough damn week.

Missing workouts... wanted to get back to throwing....Haven't.....Emery has missed 2 appointments which annoys me too.....I am trying to study study study and I am sorta doing it....

I think I am still processing the class from last week.

I know I was supposed to update and I haven't yet. So......I'll stop avoiding it.

When we did our wrap up circle I had said that I think I came into the class with the wrong intentions and so I didn't get THAT out of the class, but that I still got something.  I guess I am still figuring out what that something is. 

I know what I liked best from the class was watching all the other people in class grow, find voice, tap into power.  It really was beautiful.  I saw courage too...lots of courage.  I can't get more specific because we were asked to keep things private. 

I know that they were super clear that learning this doesn't imply blame or shame about anything that came before. Yet...there it is. That is exactly what I walked away with. 

The final day we were working on this reversal thinggy...I was trapped under the guy in the suit...and I started kicking furiously.  And just like the previous week...everything went dark and I was some place else.  I was back there...but I was kicking him off.  When I came back to the room, all I could focus on was "why didn't I do that? why did I let that happen? He was right, I was big enough and strong enough to have stopped it."

Not a good place to be.

It was reinforced during the "graduation" thing where everyone went through a scenario with family and friends present.  When I got up for my turn, I could feel my hands shaking....but I heard a voice from the people watching, "oh this should be good."  I almost sat down.  There it was again, the assumption that I, as the fat master Mountain Troll, should have NO problem fighting off an attacker.

Well...I didn't fight him off; I didn't know how. I didn't know I even could. 

So, maybe this will just take time to settle.  Perhaps I will walk with less shame in time.  Perhaps the lesson I will leave with is that, yes; now I know I can, even if I couldn't then.  I am not sure why or how, but I think having been in this class may just give me what I had originally hoped for. Bear with me on this:

I think I had secretly hoped that this class would erase the memory of the rape.  (dang, it is hard to type that word) That's insane, I know.  But perhaps taking the class and being able to talk about it (thank you Grace), I will find forgiveness. Not for anyone but myself.

Ultimately, it doesn't matter who thinks I am strong or powerful or whatever (especially him); what matters is for me to understand that this is just the reality of what happened and I get to choose if I still live in that dark room.  I am also fully aware that PTSD jut sometimes takes you on its ride, but that too; doesn't last forever.  As they had us remind each other in class, go back to the breath.

Thanks Grace, Grant, and Chris for coming to that final thing.  And for breathing with me.

And chocolate.


And I promise, I'll start writing about lifting again soon...I gotz me some squatz and bench to do today...