Sunday, March 25, 2018

The Slow Progression of My Recovery


 “There is meaning hidden in the small changes of everyday life,
And wisdom to be found in the shards of your most broken moments.
At the end of a dark night of the soul is the beginning of a
new life.”  –Elizabeth Lesser

With the selfish act of one person, everything became nothing. However, this isn’t about the act, it is about what happened because of that one act. It’s about the process of human loss and the rebirth from a dark place where pain, anger, sadness, shame, control and fear thrive.

            I no longer had any plans, goals, dreams, or any idea of what I was going to do next. I no longer knew who I was or who I wanted to be. It took all my energy to pretend as if nothing had happened. But it slowly consumed me. When I finally awoke from the numbing nightmare, someone had taken everything I knew and believed in and left nothing for me to hold on to. I questioned everything, even my own thoughts and feelings because everything felt so unreal. My only reality was the overwhelming and uncontrollable pain. A pain unlike any other pain I had ever felt before. It was nothing like the emotional pain of a break up with a loved one, the rejection letter from UCLA or the loss of my grandfathers.  I could physically feel my heart break open. The pain made me want to rip my heart out of my chest so that I no longer had to feel anything. I would often cry myself to sleep while begging God to take the pain away.
When you bear the unbearable, something inside you dies and you’ll do anything to numb the pain. I was a shell of the naïve, sweet and driven girl I once was.  I was empty and lost. I was constantly haunted with obsessive thoughts trying desperately to figure out what truly happened.  I struggled to decipher the details but it all seemed like a recurring nightmare filled with nothing more than fragmented images.  How could this happen to me? How could he do this to me? Isn’t he supposed to be my friend? Why me?
  I blamed myself and became a cold, angry, depressed, and completely numb. I felt so foolish and worthless.  Every day I tried to remember what it felt like to hug someone and feel happy. In a desperate attempt to feel happiness again, I began to indulge in all that I thought I needed. But the alcohol, partying, and attending the university of my childhood dreams made me feel nothing. Every day I crossed the street wishing that someone would run a red light and hit me. I often day dreamed about stepping on the gas and driving into the center divider or sound barrier wall.  I needed the pain to end.  I sought refuge at church, the most sacred and serene of places but all I could do was cry. I felt like I was choking and with each passing day I struggled to just breathe.  I couldn’t find solace in anything. I was drowning; kicking, and screaming and no one could hear or see me. I hugged my family that Christmas and felt nothing. I had the love of family and friends but it could not permeate through the evil that violated me. The overwhelming feelings of shame, pain, fear and anger now controlled every second of my life. I desperately needed a way out and most of all I wanted revenge and atonement.

      “And the time came when the risk to
        remain tight in a bud was more painful
        than the risk it took to blossom.”
           –Anais Nin-       

I made a decision to seek help when the anger and pain were driving me to desire the death of another human being. The very thought of ending someone’s life went against everything I represented, everything I believed to be true.  I could not allow this selfish act to destroy what was left of me. I picked up everything I needed in order to live again. I reached out to the one closest to me but only found more shame, rejection, anger, pain, and judgment. I felt betrayed by the ones I trusted and depended on most. Others who claimed to care tried to find their own revenge through violence. But no physical pain he could feel would remedy the agonizing pain I continued to endure. My rage grew with each passing day and in doing so, I began to hurt those closest to me. I tried to push everyone away. It seemed like nothing could return what he had taken from me. On the verge of becoming a complete casualty to his evil deed, I realized that I had to risk it all in order to gain my life back.
 After a year of therapy I was able to leave the pain and anger behind me and resumed what I thought to be a normal life. Nevertheless, I no longer knew what normal meant or what it should look like. Fear set in again. I could trust no one, not even myself. I thought that if I focused on my studies at UCLA, I could overcome my fears through academic success.
I lied to everyone around me and opted for endless hours of sleep instead of attending my classes. Of course, academic failure was inevitable. UCLA threatened with academic dismissal. Every time someone questioned my desire to be at UCLA or my ability to love and connect with others, I felt objectified.  Filled with disdain and outrage, I appealed my academic dismissal. It felt like those who objectified my pain and weakness were taking advantage of me all over again. Every time someone found a reason to blame me for what happened, it felt like I was assaulted all over again. It is easy to objectify the suffering of others when you don’t truly understand what it feels like to look back at your reflection in the mirror and see nothing or what it feels like to struggle everyday to overcome the paralyzing pain and fear.
In order to keep on living I had to forgive but I could not forget. Fortunately, with the moral and professional support of my therapist and doctors, my dismissal was overturned. But I no longer cared about earning my bachelor’s degree; I was terrified by the idea of never being able to fully awake from this nightmare.

  “Suffering is very real, and fear is its sidekick. 
    Fear is a sneaky thief, stealing away precious
     moments of your life.” 
        -Rabbi Yehudah Fine-

I was determined to fully awake from the nightmare.  Everyday and every step on that campus felt like an eternity.  Living in constant fear and shame is no way for anyone to live.  Everyday became a struggle to survive, to breathe and to somehow feel whole again. I could either choose darkness, fear and despair or I could choose letting go and find meaning in the midst of my pain.  I refused to have any more of my life taken away from me. 
Like the song says, “Nothing is real until you let go completely.” And in letting go, I found a gift.  I found out what I was truly capable of.  Therapy once again became my refuge and I discovered that from the broken shards of my former life, I had emerged as a strong and resilient person. I also met my intuition. In letting go, I gained so much more insight into who I was, what I wanted and into what was important to me.  I could now see that my degree from UCLA would mean so much more than graduation, it would mean that I had survived and thrived.
 The moment I acknowledged what was still troubling me and called it by its name, the doors were opened.  I could now face it and take the necessary daily steps to overcome the fear of getting hurt and losing control. So every day on my way to class, I made myself walk by that dreaded apartment building until I was able to see it as just another building in Westwood.  The ultimate test presented itself at a club in Hollywood; I had another face-to-face encounter with my fear.  There he was, three feet away from me.  He made his way over to my location and got as close as he could to me.  I looked him in the eyes, turned around and just kept dancing.  For thirty minutes, he stood there watching my every move with a chilling grin on his face. He refused to back down. I was completely sickened by his wicked stance but I refused to back down and showed him no emotions. I continued to dance until one of his friends finally pulled him away and made him leave the club.  I had faced my fear and conquered the pain and his desire to overpower and control me.  I finally felt like I had nothing to hide and he couldn’t take anything else away from me. I was no longer a victim but a survivor and I had taken back my life.

“Our true identity is to love without fear
  and insecurity.  Our higher potential finds
  us when we set our course in that direction. 
  The power of love & compassion transforms
   insecurity.”
                                                            -Doc Childre-
I would not change what happened because it has made me the person that I am today. I have learned that everything happens for a reason. I believe in Karma and thus we all will answer for what we choose to do in this life. In letting go, I let go of all of my fears because the truth is that no one can hurt me to the extent in which that selfish act did. What saved me was that in the midst of the pain and fear, I wanted nothing more than to love and feel loved again. I learned that faith and love are stronger than any pain I could possibly feel.
I am a soul and no one can take my soul from me. I have learned to let the souls of others touch me in profound ways that I never allowed before. I have learned that no matter what or who enters and leaves my life, I can overcome anything. I have learned that love means letting go. Forgiveness is letting go. In order to love and live a full life, you must be completely open. For the first time in six years, I am now able to truly feel the caring embrace of a loved one and allowed it to touch me in ways that I never thought possible. Happiness can now visit me and it has. I have learned to let go of the small things and especially those I cannot control. I have learned to laugh at myself. I have learned to smile again. I have learned what true friendship and loyalty are. I have learned that with faith, love, courage, strength, and dedication, nothing is impossible. I have learned to above all always trust my instincts. I am now fully awake and more alive than ever. 

“Waking up in the morning, I smile;
            twenty-four brand new hours are before me.
I vow to live fully in each moment and to
look at all beings with the eyes of compassion.”    
      –Prayer by Thich Nhat Hahn-




Tuesday, September 29, 2015

Isolating Back Pain

I'm up for yet another trip to our freezer for ice packs for my back.  No relief thus far from the steroid epidural. SIGH!

When you picture expecting your child, you think calming, peaceful times to reflect and prepare-NOT. Most of the time I don't want to think or feel because that means giving into the sharp pulling pain in my lower back, hips, butt and often leg and foot. And then reaching for the Tylenol or Tylenol #3 (only when its unbearable) I battle with my guilt and fear as I desperately screw off the bottle cap and often drop at least one pill or water down my chest. I feel like a fiend! Desperate, alone, sad and often frustrated. It is isolating because despite everyone's care, attention and loving empathy unless you've had years of often debilitating back pain, they can't possibly know what it is like. 

I don't blame our little growing baby girl. It was after all my choice to become pregnant fully aware for the potential of this resurging back pain. But even as I see those written words: "back pain" I know they don't begin to describe the now non-stop agony and mental struggle it takes to keep myself in check and to keep going without giving into becoming fully immobile.

Everyone's love plus the overwhelming excitement to meet her, see her little face and look into her eyes makes every second of pain worth it. 

Something my mother in law "Susie" told me this week brought me to tears and put everything into perspective. She was at USC for her two day long lung transplant evaluation. She said, "A is my motivation to keep going through all this. And I'll do whatever it takes to watch her live for as long as I can." I instantly teared up and told "G". "Now we know exactly why "A" is here: to keep her grandmother alive and motivated to keep going. What a greater purpose can someone have!"
Of all the times to have had unprotected and unplaned sex-now is when my body decided to be pregnant. Nothing is ever perfect in this often ironic life of ours but it is without a doubt the right time for her to arrive into our world. I feel so blessed and lucky to have the privilege of being chosen to be her mamá.
Also as an update on my "birth plan", my OB read the MRI yesterday, and said no epidural for birth will be allowed with my level of lumbar discs. More great news right?!  Ha! She said they'll instead opt for upper back epidural/IV drugs  and/or c-section if my body or baby girl does not cooperate. Whatever will come, I welcome it! I just hope my body embraces it as well.

Monday, January 14, 2013

Thanks to Baby Jesus for all you've given me

I was in church on Sunday, January 13, 2013, and the choir sang the following song. The lyrics touched me so much that I couldn't continue to sing. I teared up and had to stop singing because my voice cracked. It says perfectly what I feel when I talk to God.

"These Alone Are Enough"
1. Take my heart, O Lord, take my hopes and dreams.
Take my mind with all its plans and schemes.
2. Take my thoughts, O Lord, and my memory.
Take my tears, my joys, my liberty
3. I surrender, Lord, all I have and hold.
I return to you your gifts untold.
4. When the darkness falls on my final days,
take the very breath that sang your praise.
Chorus: Give me nothing more than your love and grace. These alone, O God, are enough for me.
Church isn't for everyone but for me I find the hour and change that I spend in mass feels like some sort of therapy or meditation.  I've always gotten emotional during mass. I'm not exactly sure why but I'm often moved to tears of joy. It's probably God's love touching me. In any case, it is relaxing and gives me a clean slate to start the new week after giving up all my worry, concerns, anxiety and thanking God for all the blessings in my life.

Thursday, January 3, 2013

2012: Not The End of the World but the Beginning of Better Times


Looking Back On 2012



Simply putting it, I fell in love again with many aspects of life and found happiness within myself again. The words of Alicia Key’s “The Thing About Love” seem to sum it up well. However, love means different things at different times in our lives and with different people. Every love story has a silver lining.


"The Thing About Love"

Love
Love will come find you
Just to remind you
Of who you are

Oh love
It will forsake you
Threaten to break you
Take what you got

 
(…)

Then life
It will embrace you
Totally amaze you
So you don't give up


Love definitely touches you in a way that makes you question who you are and it can also break you in so many ways. Since Alicia passed away in 2010, I spent the last few years grieving. I knew I had to go through the many steps of grief but I never realized just how long and how low it would take me.  But I was also grieving the broken relationship with my ex. And missing the life we had built around that relationship. I dove into trying to just be OK, “move on with my life” and simply be “happy”.  God knows I tried to do so in every way possible, but when I was alone or when I drank one too many drinks, the emotions, vulnerability and colliding emotions just flowed out of me. Often the flow of emotions felt like I was rolling in barrel down Niagara Falls (not that I've ever been there) and I would never come out the other end in one piece. But I prayed incessantly for healing and for forgiveness to come and fill our hearts. I also pray that God would help me find the person who would be my lifetime partner in crime. But the truth was that true love had already touched my life and I was too busy hanging on to the pain from the past to allow myself to be loved fully by this person.

Love is supposed to build you up, make you strong and you feel almost invincible.  But imagine if the person you love the most in the world uses the worse things you think about yourself and how you would feel if the person you trust most not only thinks them too but uses them as reasons not to be with you. Now this is what happened to me with the man I dated off and on for almost 9 years.  By the end of the relationship, I literally ran away because the relationship had broken me down to the point that I started believing that as horrible as I felt in that relationship was as good as it was going to get. I was prepared to accept that the painful abyss that I was in was what I deserved. Until what appeared to be a miracle, a man, a familiar stranger told me one night as I cried, “You seem unhappy, I don’t really know why but whatever it is, from what I can see in you, you deserve to be happy and you deserve more out of a relationship than what you have now. Maybe its time for you to let go and find what you really deserve. And if you need a friend or anything at all, I'm just a phone call away.” A friendship was born and soon we both fell in love.

           This man could not have been more right. I was lost and in pain and needed to find myself again and heal from the grief of losing such an important person in my life and from the pain that the current relationship was causing me. Thanks to my faith in God and the love of my friends and family, I have been able to heal and not only heal but forgive and let go of the painful past. And thanks to this man, I was able to believe in love again and know what having a man by your side that is proud to hold your hand feels like. This man protected me from everything and everyone, even from myself when I needed it. Sadly, I had forgotten what love was supposed to feel like. He taught me a painful lesson but in the end, he taught me what love should be and that I needed to take care of myself before I could love or take care of anyone else. This man, whom we'll call G. He was my best friend and my love for a time. A time when I needed him the most and I will forever be in debt to him for what he did for me. He held me together when all I wanted to do was fall apart.  He opened my eyes and helped my heart heal. He was the right person at the wrong time for us.


Two years have passed since all this began to unravel, but I can now proudly say that I know what true love is and what it should be and what I need from the man who is to be by my side. I need a man who is going to be by my side no matter what. Someone who truly loves all of me with the past, present and future and always respects me. A man I can trust. A man who can accept my past and know that I am not defined by where I have been but by where I’m going. A man who can be my best friend and partner in crime. And a man who expects nothing less in return.

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

Born to be a butterfly.

I was born to be this way! And yes, I'm a girl, haha.






I found this card in an old box of my baby things about 5 years ago. Now there is no argument that I was born to be a butterfly. As you can see, before I even had a name, my cradle was labeled with a butterfly with a big red heart underneath.  And if you look closely, there's also a big sun shining underneath the heart and butterfly. Just in case you ever wondered, according to the book of Baby names, my name is a French pet form of the name Elizabeth. Its meaning has Hebrew origins with translations that mean "God's promise; God is my oath; oath to God."




Seven years ago, I sat on a bench in-between my classes at UCLA in the Sculpture Garden and a beautiful Monarch butterfly glided around me as I sat there thinking how I was going to get over the depression that had taken my life hostage. I felt so lucky to have this beautiful creature hanging around me. And when I finally smiled in its direction, it landed on my left knee. Only for what seemed like half a second, it slowly fluttered its wings as if it were telling me that I was not alone. I found myself instantly fascinated and inspired by the idea that what I was going through was like the metamorphosis of a butterfly. I felt like my depression, PTSD and pain were like the darkness of the cocoon. And I kept telling myself that one day I would come out of the cocoon stronger than I could ever imagine and I would have wings to accomplish anything I set out towards. But I was so angry, afraid, ashamed and haunted by the PTSD that it took me a long time to realize just what I had to do. One day I read a quote by Anais Nin in the book Broken Open, “And the time came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.”  This single sentence gave me the exact direction I was so desperately seeking. It was going to require a great risk. I had to tell everyone I cared for what happened to me and what I was going through but it had to be done and I desperately needed professional help. It took five years but with God, therapy, Lexapro (anti-depressant), Broken Open, meditation, my friends, and my unabated desire to be as free as the Monarch butterfly that inspired me, I metamorphose into the butterfly I was born to be.
 
 
 
 
I am proud to say that I have overcome the darkest of my days and I’ve done it in such a way that you would never know that almost nine years ago I survived a woman’s worse nightmare. Primo Levi says it best, “The butterfly's attractiveness derives not only from colors and symmetry: deeper motives contribute to it. We would not think them so beautiful if they did not fly, or if they flew straight and briskly like bees, or if they stung, or above all if they did not enact the perturbing mystery of metamorphosis: the latter assumes in our eyes the value of a badly decoded message, a symbol, a sign.”
 
 
After the darkness of the cocoon is broken open, the butterfly emerges as a symbol of the beginning of a new life.


 

Saturday, August 18, 2012

If Home is where the heart is then this is where I am and where I want to be.


Home is where you should grow up and feel the safest. A refuge from the toxicity and dangers of the outside world. The place you look forward to returning to every time you leave no matter how near or far your journey has taken you.  Home is where you should learn what true love is and feel unconditionally loved at all times. 
I have always dreamed of coming home to a place I can call my own. A place where I always feel welcomed and loved.  A place where I feel safe from the outside world. A place where the people I love comfort me from the day the day stresses. My parent’s home was this place for me up until I turned 8 years old. It seemed my mother and father no longer found hugs or saying I love you necessary anymore. And my older brother learned how to channel his aggression towards me. His taunts and aggression turned physically violent.  I didn’t understand why he was so angry with me or why none of my parents came to my rescue. He punched me straight into my chest with a closed fist because I didn’t want to play with him anymore. I immediately gasped for air and could not breathe. I fell to the floor in the middle of my  bedroom. He looked back at me in anger and then ran out towards the backyard to continue to play with our younger brother. I sat there for what seemed like 10 minutes without being able to catch my breath. I began to cry. The tears ran down my face as I walked towards the kitchen to find my mother. I told her what happened and that my chest hurt. She simply turned her head and said just play inside. She didn’t inspect my chest or dry my tears. Not even a hug. This was and is my mother’s attitude. Her housework is her priority and she was always too busy to even keep an eye on us. My brother was not reprimanded for his behavior. My mom was never good at comforting us as she was raised by my grandmother, the orphan who also didn't know how to show affection.  Our Dad was simply never there because he was the sole income and had to work. It often felt like we were alone in that house.
Currently, my parent's house often feels cold and full of animosity.  I often linger in my car listening to the radio and avoiding entering the house.  There are so many reasons why I don't feel at home here. Not only because of the above but because of a lifetime of distance that exists between my parents and me.  If it wasn't for the existence of my younger sisters, being here would sometimes be completely unbearable. I have tried to stay here as long as possible so I can support my sisters and help them through their difficult teenage years and into adulthood. I love them as if they were my own daughters because I have raised them from birth to diaper changing, to feeding, to their first steps, bed-wetting, nightmares, their first day of school, their high school graduations, first heartbreaks and their first day of college. The sacrifice has been worth every minute of being in this place where I often don't feel at home.

Luckily, my two apartments at UCLA and my ex’s parent’s house felt more like my home than any of the three houses my parents have owned. I finally felt safe and at peace. I felt love, embrace, validation, protection and support. My roommates although initially were strangers, they were always supportive of my goals and dreams and they held my hand during my tough days, dried my tears and even tucked me into bed. We took care of each other, no matter what the situation. My ex’s parents were the first to show me unconditional love. They welcomed me into their home, their family and their hearts almost from the beginning.  They taught me what a true family home should feel like and how family members are supposed to care for and support each other no matter what.  I am blessed and forever grateful for the love that Mr. and Mrs. Rivas gave me and continue to share with me from heaven. I know she will be cheering me on and guiding me everyday of my life from heaven.


I dream of the day when I have a home of my own where I can teach my future children the meaning of a home, family, unconditional love and support. A place they can call their own and always feel welcome.  Not just in words but also by example and showing them what these things mean.  I can’t wait for my kids to come home to the smell of their favorite food or pastry and I run to the door to greet them with hugs and kisses. I can’t wait to hear how their day at school went and listen to their stories and the interesting things they learned. I promise to hug them when they’re crying and dry their tears. I promise to tend to and heal all their wounds. I promise to protect them as much as I can and even from themselves if need be.  I promise that nothing in this world will be more important than you in my life.

And because home is definitely where your heart is, then my home is where ever my best friends are, in my studies, and in the hope and love I have for my future children. There is no other place I’d rather be right now than with you. I love you guys and my sisters to death. I would do anything for you and I'll always be here for you.