The Brave One (2007) movie quotes

This is a movie about a woman who sees her partner being killed in front of her, and is brutally beaten up…and she ends up killing other people around the city who terrorize others. As I watched the trailer, I found her choices very far from me, but her reflections- dead on with all I was not always sure how to express.

I haven’t watched the movie yet, but I found quotes from it online and they just stuck in me. So true, so well said…and so close to the enormous feeling that overwhelms you once you realize something grand, something life-altering, has touched your life, in a way that rarely people can understand, and you can never go back.

Only figure out a way to go forward, and change to accommodate that new person inside of you.

Here are the quotes:

“It is astonishing, numbing, to find that inside you there is a stranger. One that has your arms, for legs, your eyes. A sleepless restless stranger who keeps walking, keeps eating, keeps living.”

“There are many ways to die. You have to figure out a way to live.”

 

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Aftermath: The first week after

Here I am, back, after what feels(or may be is, haven’t checked), a week since I last wrote. I had been doing well for a while with the recovery, so the natural thing happened- I slid back. And it took me a while to contain myself again. Another step forward, finally.

But before that, I finished a post that I never actually published, because it made me sick. Now that I feel better, it’s time for it. Here it is:

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This post I have successfully avoided for a while, too. It wasn’t that I was scared of it or it was hard. Writing the reason I created this blog was harder, for sure. But, in the big scheme of things, the reason for all wasn’t on me. I had regrets about it, but mostly I didn’t feel I was to blame for how things turned out. The next 2 years, despite everything, despite me feeling it wasn’t so, were my choice.

And that’s a choice I’m not proud of.

I’m spending considerable amount of time getting okay with what I did and how I lived, accepting that for the sake of recovering I needed these years. But it was never easy to accept it.

The first week

I was in another country, and my brain knew that what my emotional state was, would be irrelevant if I do not have a job, and stay on the street. One was matter of grief and falling apart, while finding job was a matter of life and death literally, since I was on my last money, an ocean away from anyone I can ask for help. The morning after the rape, my brain had pushed the memories down so much, I remembered nothing- absolutely nothing. It was a missing memory of 1 night- but I was tired lately, and I really didn’t think about it- I had job hunting to conduct. Continue reading

Letting go

Tonight, after having a really productive day- something that has been rare lately- I finally feel strong enough to face one more post from this blog I had set to write, and very thoroughly avoided doing so. The post- or posts, depending on the length- about the 2 years that followed after the rape.

I type, without a rest for an hour, determined. Nothing can stop me now. I’m done hiding from my feeling, or from my past.

But at the end of the writing, this very familiar feeling overcomes me. The same feeling I have been having each time when I went over memories of THAT night.

I’m sweating, the blood rushing to my face, like I’m ashamed of something. My body is betraying me, no longer able to sustain the commands of my brain. This heavy, drowsy, sleepy feeling that makes my brain feel hazy overcomes me.

I have perfected the reactions of my body lately. I go over memories, to find the reason for how I feel, I clear it out, distract myself. I try to think reasonably and remember I’m in the present and I’m safe, with a lot of good options of the future.

But this feeling, this feeling I don’t know how to fight.

The only thing I usually do, it go to sleep, as it is usually the only thing I can do.

It almost scares me, the strength with which it swipes through my brain- what if I never get rid of it? What if something is really wrong with my brain? It’s not normal from my brain to shut down like I have drugged myself, I think. It scares me a lot more than any other aftermath of that night, because I have no clue how to control it.

How do I fight a feeling, if I can’t keep my brain awake enough to think and do so? Everything just becomes fuzzy and starts swimming in front of me, while I try to remember where I am and …I try, but the heavy feeling drowns me, and I no longer feel real. It’s just this huge wave of fog that goes through my brain, and feeling that I’m sleepy as if I have drank too much- only that I haven’t had anything more than a beer in months.

I let go of posting that post- my brain is too fuzzy to edit it anymore. I let go of trying to solve anything.

I simply, completely, and utterly, let go.

Until tomorrow.

 

Bittersweet Symphony: About making amends and other things

The past week, for a first time, I’m not as drained as lately, and I don’t feel the need to go to bed all the time. The feeling is partly-uplifting, and partly bothering me, and for a while, I do not understand the bothering part. This is the moment I have waited for, for so long- why do I feel more free-falling then inspired?

It takes me a while to get that this is just as hard part of this transitioning part of my life as going through the past. I do finally have the energy to take some control of the situation- something I have craved for a while now- but I also am afraid. I am not anymore afraid of the future- if anything, I have a lot to look forward to. I’m afraid of the now. Continue reading

One step forward, two steps back

For couple of weeks during the summer, full of a lot of work, it finally comes down on me- the life I chose, the things I’ve been through…. I’m not completely sure why I’m going back to that, but after these couple of weeks I end up completely drained. I have no more power to fight it. The harder we run from something, the stronger it comes to hunt us, and I have never ran from something as much, my entire life. And so, I come down to dealing with it. Between panic attacks, flashbacks, crying, depression, ptsd, lots and lots of talking and thinking and taking walks, I lose myself, more then ever. I lose sight of whom or what I’m doing this for, or whether I moving forward. I lose a sight of ever being in another situation.

Sometimes I have the feeling I am moving forward, and sometimes, I’m simply drowning. I lose sight of the shore…which, as they tell me is a good thing. And so it all comes to this week, these days, when one morning I look out of the window and I realize that the fall is coming. I have lived through the summer, and my nightmares. I have work piled up to my ears. And all I can think of is: when did it become fall?

I have been so focused on getting through the days, that I have missed when the seasons changed. And most of the days I have this familiar, yet foreign feeling, that I’m not sure if I’m going forward or backwards. Even if you don’t have that literal meaning in you- you have to accept and get through your past, to move forward- I keep taking steps, and sliding backwards every once in a while. But unlike in theory, where math shows you that 2 steps backwards, and one step forward should equate to being one step back after all, life’s calculations aren’t exactly such.

Because in life, the real true fact that matters is which are the steps taken. Sure, I spend another 2 hours trying to create something for my business, only to break down again, and let go for the night. I did create one thing though. That’s a start. Yesterday, I mostly didn’t have such a great day- I had another flashback, which led to a short breakdown on my part. I also did not finish the work I had for the day- 2 steps back.

Meanwhile however, I met with one of my best friends. I had recently told her the truth about my rape, and spend few half-awkward half-nice meetings with her. In the past 2 years, between my not-talking about anything while I was in denial, and us often being in different countries, we lost touch a lot, and even though meeting occasionally was still the same, I missed the day to day deep talks we used to have. Now, few meetings where we talked about random stuff happening to us, and I was somewhat telling her the hell I was going through, we are finally back. Back to being the kind of friends that can talk every day and always have what to say. If I feel bad I don’t have to lie to her anymore. But we can also talk about nothing and everything. We are back to being as close as we were.

So, in the math of life, I think I have gained. Sure, another somewhat fruitless day, and memories I’d rather not have. But the times are this way. I’ve been having such days for months. And despite all, I think I will be out of them soon. But on the way, what is a missed day, compared to having gained back my best friend? That’s priceless.

{my} Africa

I was going to first do a post on what happened during the last 2 years before I stopped denying my trauma, but if I go chronologically, this post comes before.

This is about the reason I made this blog besides getting over the rape.

This is about who I became and the dream born that very same summer.

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As I said before, when I went there, I needed to make money. In combination of things, including being in the middle of financial crisis years, I found finding a job increasingly hard. And with everything else happening that summer, in the middle of addiction, abuse, homeless people and gunshots I saw that summer, I knew I had to make choices for myself, and I was reluctant to let this world chew me up and spit me out. I knew I was smart and creative, and I thought I can change things around.

As it turns out, that was too naive of me. I was facing something bigger than the knowledge I had. Either way, I was there, and I had to do something to preserve my sanity.

So I thought- long and hard- of the life I want after I get out of that hell hole. I have been raised not really thinking that I can make a living out of creative things. Artist life was for hobbies, not for actual making living out of it. That summer assured me that life is too short to live it in a way you don’t enjoy.

I wanted to do something creative. I was going to try to do it part time while being there, to make some more money. At first I thought of the most obvious (for me) – making drawings and greeting cards, and trying to sell them to tourists (it was the middle of the summer, I loved drawing, and that made sense)…but in the middle of the emotional turmoil I was feeling, I couldn’t find inspiration to do that. Unlike some people, feeling low usually completely froze me when it came to drawing. I can draw only when happy.
I even tried pushing myself- I went to a crafts store and bought things for drawing in vague attempt to inspire myself. The fact that I spend some of my last money for supplies for something that I wasn’t sure would work, produced the opposite result. But I kept trying and praying.

Drawing did not work out for me. I stopped drawing that summer and none of my attempts to get back to it these 2 years succeeded.  But in my second visit in the store, I completely randomly stopped in the isle with beads and things for creating jewelry- they were all so different and colorful and I was fascinated. I must have been there for an hour, looking through things, materials, books with beading basics…that day I bought my first supplies for jewelry creating.

Later on I will create my own etsy store and decide to sell them online. And it will take 2 years for me to figure out that I want to take it and make it main source of living.

But for that moment, I just bought supplies, not even sure what my plan is, and not knowing much. But between different types of pliers, head pins, and my first pale pink crystal beads, I fall in love with jewelry making.

And 2 years later turns out, it isn’t a fling-it’s a life-long love affair.

p.s. yesterday I missed adding post for the day, but just like missing a day in a diet should now stop you from completing it, I’m not letting this one day derail me from posting each day from now on.