I NEED SS teachers! Augh! There are times I wish we did "traditional" SS so i would have a team that was committed for a whole year. However, the trade-off to get creative with workshop rotation is usually worth the headaches it causes! I have two teachers lined up for sure and I can combine the grades and buy myself another week if I do that. It's my fault...I allow these stupid depressive episodes to bog me down for a week and I need that week. Just more of my stupidity...God continues to provide through the stupidity which simply amazes me.

So, yesterday was FUN...NOT! I am not sure what exactly prompted this whole really digging in with Rob except maybe the fear he really would terminate me. But, our sessions are different now (and well they should be) and while it is so not fun...I thank God for that man. As much as I want to find a FT ministry position...I need to stay put and work with him until the end. He allows me to be silent when I need to, I am getting better at telling him what is NOT helpful (I love to joke as much as the next person with him...but there are times it just doesn't help) and I am trying not to edit every single thing.

The thing that scares me is that I absolutely, 100% need to work on the whole sexual abuse issue...but I am scared to death. Just talking about it takes me back and I am 12 all over again and the body memories are there...which lately has caused the SI to escalate. But, I had a hard time talking to him about it yesterday. Not because he is a man...other than major intimacy fears...I don't have problems with guys that I know are safe...but more because I "should" be over it by now.

Heck...it was a one time thing and it wasn't "that bad." I mean, compared to what some of my friends have been through...I have NOTHING to be freaked, feel bad, etc. about. Everything was from the waist up and I got away before anything else could happen. I know people not that lucky...who endured way more than I did in those moments...yet I feel totally damaged, totally ugly (not beautiful...never beautiful as that is what HE called me over and over and over) inside and out and just want to rip my skin to shreds and become nothing like that 12 year old.

Just writing about it I can feel the disgust for myself, the anxiety of wanting to cut but being in a place where (thankfully) that is not an option I can even entertain. I can feel the fear I did that night like it just happened...the struggle to...well...I guess the details aren't important.

The stupidity that is me...that "should" have seen it coming that summer. It started that spring. Mom and I had gone to a different Mervyn's for whatever reason and she remembered that my Uncle Mike's best friend lived near there. So, we found the house and dropped by unannounced. I met Renee (his daughter who is a few years younger than me) and his wife (whose name I have totally blocked out) and Del. I can't tell you much about what he even looks like...taller than me (he still would be today)...mustache...that's about it.

So fromt hat time on...we spent time with his family. I went swimming over there, we went to the Elks Club and hung out (Renee and I)...at some point he must have begun playing father figure (better him than the idiot my mother was dating...after dumping the man she shouldn't have a few weeks before)...watching me dive, giving me some extra "dad" attention I have always craved...I don't remember all that much...just little things...playing Atari with us "that night," curling up with him on the couch...that must have been the moment he thought what would come next was okay.

How many times have I talked about this in therapy...every therapist I have seen since I was 15 years old. The therapist my mother took me to after this all came out three years after the fact I didn't like and my mom took my word for it that I dealt with it in one session. Marc and I began to talk about it and really talk about it...but then it became all about my mom. When it came time to press charges...my mom left the choice up to me. I was FIFTEEN and the thought of having to go into a court room and be in the same room with him...*shudder.*

Maybe in my mom's place I would have done the same thing...but I like to think I would protect my daughter and like it or not...press charges no matter how hysterical she got. The DA went ahead anyway ( we found out 8 years later...after my first Psych. hospitalization) and he did three days jail time and spent years on probation. His marriage also broke up which means his wife must have believed what happened. In any case...he plead to a lesser charge (since my mom didn't press charges) and that's why he did so little time.

So, I feel stupid for not seeing it coming (nevermind the fact I was 12), I feel stupid for allowing it to be such a big deal because in the scheme of things I got off easy, and I feel stupid because it does haunt me when I think about it. I don't even have to close my eyes to see it all over...I can see it clear as day (ummm...night as it was like 2 AM) just sitting here at the computer. Why I was even alone with him, the little things that I should have noticed, our conversation at the van as we were putting the games and stuff Renee brought over in the van...looking at the stars because it was a beautiful night...walking back into the garage....me pretending to still be asleep the next morning when they came to tell my Uncle and cousin goodbye or to pick up something they left...I don't remember...I just remember trying to be still when my mom came to my room so I wouldn't have to go out there and play "nice."

I wanted to die so bad after that. Heck...I took my mom's boyfriend's razor blades and tried...but at 12 had no clue how to make the cuts the right way and the ones I made weren't very deep...nothing was ever permanent and I got caught anyway. Jim, my mom's boyfriend, then proceeded to show me the proper way to get a blade out the thingie.

Through all the pain, through all this muck I can still see all God has provided in front of me. It was this whole thing that drove me into His arms in the first place. I am not sure it would have happened otherwise. Romans 8:28 is so true in my life...He took that "earth shattering" moment in time and used it to bring me to Him and gave me a passion to serve Him and in an awesome calling to serve His kids.