Showing posts with label Becoming ME. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Becoming ME. Show all posts

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Traumatic Incidents

This is a difficult challenge / post that has been brought up today. And, because I was just discussing with Geoff last night the importance of being honest when blogging, I feel obligated to do just that. I have posted a minor piece of this incident here. I have vowed to never post about this EVER. But I do believe there is a message that should be shared.

When I was younger I fell in love for the first time and ran away to California. I was young, immature and totally clueless. When this relationship ended I was beyond devastated. I was lost, hurt and broken.

I moved back home with minimal self esteem and began dating someone much older than me. Someone who could not remind me physically about what I didn't have. He was the transition guy. A guy that I will never name in this space. EVER.

Abuse comes at you like fog. You sense it there and yet you think you have time to get out before it completely surrounds you. I had attempted once to end the relationship after having a long conversation with a very dear friend of mine. When I came to the conclusion that it just wasn't healthy any longer I made the phone call to explain that we just were not meant to be together. It did not go well at all.

When he arrived an hour later at her apartment with flowers and M&M's in tears I felt terrible. How could I do that to someone? I relented and the relationship resumed. Over the next several months I was on an extremely short leash. I was living in a dump and I felt very suffocated. I was verbally abused on a daily basis. I was ugly, fat, stupid and useless. What I really was, was trapped. I had friends, good friends coming to visit me all the time. They would only come when they knew he wasn't there. I didn't realize that back then. They would try to convince me to leave. I couldn't see what they were seeing.

One weekend I made the decision that I was going to visit a friend for the weekend. I needed air. I needed time away. This visit allowed me the opportunity to finally see what I had been missing. I was missing out on my life. I was planning to make the biggest mistake of my life by marrying someone I had no passion for. I felt whole, I felt like me, I felt free. Driving home that day I knew what I had to do. And believe me when I decide that I'm going to do something move on out of the way. There was no stopping me.

I ended that relationship and moved into my parents house with the promise that I would not be there any longer than two weeks. I found an apartment in a week. 157 Central Ave. It was beautiful, it was all mine and I was living on my own for the very first time in my life. When I saw him coming up the stairs that night I knew it was not going to go well. I was scared and angry all at the same time. How dare you come into my new life and threaten me? The things he screamed at me that night were terrible, humiliating and disgusting. I could only imagine what my neighbors thought of me. It was awful.

My biggest mistake was thinking I could get away with snipping my engagement ring, chipping out the diamonds, taping it to a piece of paper that said: I hope this fits better on  your finger then it ever did on mine. I got caught leaving that little gem for him. So when he grabbed me by the throat and threw me against the wall I was a little surprised. The beating that ensued left me blinded with pain. I have failed to mention that I'm at a radio station in a sound proof room where they record the commercials. Nobody could hear me. I thought I was going to die.

I crawled out of that room on my hands and knees and hid under the DJ's desk begging him to help me. I can't even imagine what was going through his head that night. He wanted to take me to the hospital and I just wanted to go home. I had black ribs, hand prints on my neck, wall marks on my back and bruises up and down both arms. I went to see my parents the following day in a turtle neck. Abuse, is so stupid. It makes you think nobody knows what is going on with you.

My mother and I went down to the police station that following day. I was terrified. Wasn't it my fault? I did do a really shitty thing. Did I deserve the outcome? Abuse, takes away your core and leaves you a weakling. I had to show a judge my bruises when I filed for a restraining order. I was mortified. Abuse, makes you feel that going through this process is not worth it. The judge ordered me to go to the hospital where photographs and a physical could be conducted. I was so embarrassed. It wasn't that bad. Abuse, makes you think its not that bad only because your alive to tell the story.

If there is one promise that I have kept to myself it is that nothing like that was ever going to happen to me again. No man, was ever going to put their hands on me that way again.

Mental and Physical Abuse make you deaf. If you are in a situation and you feel hopeless you are not alone. If your gut is telling you this is  not right, it probably isn't. If it hurts you physically and emotionally it is not OK. If you are scared I beg you to seek help. If you know somebody who is going through this I urge you with every fiber in my being to make them see their situation. It could save their life.

I hate this post. I'm upset that I've put it out there. That one incident does not and did not define who I am as a person today. It was just one little blip in my time that brought me to bigger and better things.

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Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Chapter One

She sat alone with her thoughts on the rocky beach. Her legs exposed to the setting sun. They were slightly numb and she hadn't realized how long she had been sitting there. Waiting always waiting to be moved or inspired by something or someone. And yet, it never seemed to come. It was as if everyone around her felt serenity and she was lost in her own turmoil.

I best be moving on then, as she stood up to take the long and winding beach trail that would lead back home. The salt and sea filled the air while gulls hovered overhead looking for any piece of scrap that may have been left behind. Stupid dump ducks, she thought, what is your purpose? She pulled her large oversized flash light out of her bag as was customary for this time. The path was getting dark and although she could find her way home blind folded, she found it better to have light. She was heavy into her own thoughts again when she heard the unceremonious sound of a very loud engine screaming up the road. Stupid motor heads what is the point? A mystery of the man world she would never understand even growing up with two older brothers.

The evening started as they all did. Still unmotivated to write the last chapter of her novel she stood staring blankly out the bay window as she sipped on a glass of Pinot Grigio and wondered out loud. How did I get here? It was the unanswered question that was driving her half mad. It was only after the brutal attack that had stripped her of her dignity and pride that she succumbed to the depression that was always lurking in the shadows. It had been almost a year and the fear lingered, sitting in the pit of her stomach. A constant ache, that never subsided even in the comfort of friends and family.

Enough of this! She slammed her wine glass down on the table. And as if she was being tugged by a force greater than hers she found herself prepping for a night out. Unskilled in the ways of applying makeup she forced herself to do something to cover the dark circles and the protruding cheek bones. She applied eye shadow that was more to accent then to add color. Her eyes had a way of changing color depending on what she wore and tonight she wanted them to be gray blue. Sparingly, she applied a swipe of black eyeliner to further attain the goal.

Her hair was long and to her waist. Not so much by choice but really by necessity. Hair styles cost money and money wasn't pouring into the bank account these days. She was built with an athletic figure and attempted to do some form of exercise daily, if only to drown out her own thoughts. After picking out an inappropriate pair of jeans a pink top and boots, she grabbed her wallet and headed down to Stella’s. As she was leaving she turned around to look at her small space in the universe. Twinkle lights sparkled in her windows year round, illuminating the windows with a warm light. She sighed and thought, it’s not all that bad. Sometimes.

When she entered through the heavy red painted door of Stella's, Welcome To The Jungle was blaring through the bar. There was no need to smoke at this particular bar. The room was heavy with it. It always made her think of her favorite book Poodle Springs. There is a part when Philip Marlowe is greeted by a woman and he thinks to himself, "Her perfume hit me like a Rhinoceros." it made her chuckle just to think about it.

She found her usual spot at the bar was being occupied by what looked to be a man who walked straight out of 1955. Not the clean cut flat top type but the brooding bad boy type. He was holding a pool cue in one hand and tossing a drink back with the other. She couldn't quite make out the features of his face and decided that it was definitely nobody she knew. Quickly she surveyed the bar for an empty seat and found one in the far left corner under a ridiculous blinking beer sign. She sighed and resigned herself to unwelcoming seat.

Frenchie! She heard from across the bar. And before she had a chance to reply a shot of bourbon was sliding across the bar in her direction. She smiled. She loved Jack. He had been tending bar at Stella’s for as long as she could remember. He was a burly hulk of a man with dark sad eyes. She almost got him to tell the full story one night while they were doing shots and he was suppose to be cleaning up the bar. He couldn't and she never pressed him on it again. What she did know about Jack led her to the conclusion that he was a good man. Honest and caring for the most part but had a temper that gleamed red hot if provoked. Jack was her savior. Had he not forgotten the left over steak he had set aside for Luther she would be dead. She shuddered at the thought.

She tossed her bourbon back shook her head from left to right to left again and slammed the glass down on the bar. How ya been Jacks? It’s been quiet around here without you Frenchie, I was wondering if you were ever coming back. Well you know, she said with out knowing. I've been busy with finishing my book. Oh, I see. Jack said to her leaning over to dab her nose as if she were two years old. And if I were a bettin man I'd say your nose just grew a foot! He half chuckled at her and half sighed. Frenchie, he said as he poured another bourbon. I see you up on those rocks every day. I leave you alone because its not my nature to go pokin bob cats. But you've got to get past this. You look like dog shit.

In her heart she knew this conversation was coming. If she hadn't come to Stella's he would have come to her. Maybe that was the driving force for just coming out tonight. I know Jacks and I'm trying, I really am trying. She was so grateful for his friendship and all that had happened over the last year. And it was all starting to hit her at once. She felt her face flush and her chin turn into the likes of a walnut. What is this? Jack boomed. I'll have none of it. Now, take this beer and take your skinny ass over to the pool table. There's a good game going on over there. You may just learn how to play yet! And with that he went back to taking care of those people from away.

Jackass! She shouted at him with a smile. He was right she did suck at playing pool but really did enjoy the game itself. She took a long hard drink of her beer and it was then that she saw him looking directly at her. Ahhh, she thought the dangerous man has an even deadlier face. Unsure about what was happening, she slowly put her mug down on the bar. Why was he staring at me like that? Does he have x-ray vision and can see something hanging out my nose? She hated when this thought popped into her head. It was an automatic reflex that made her swipe at her nose in a very un-lady like way. The Dangerous Man chuckled and began walking in her direction.

No no no no no! I can't do this. Panic had filled the already fear infested belly. This is why she hated sitting in this seat. You had no where to run, nowhere to hide. The Dangerous Man was standing before her now. The only thing audible was the maddening sound of her heart. If it beats any faster I may die she thought. His hair was dark brown, almost jet black. It was difficult to see because it was all slicked back in a pompadour style. It fit him she concluded. What was distracting her more were the color of his eyes. They were hard, judgmental eyes but she could stare at them all day long. Is it wrong to tell a man he has pretty eyes she wondered? Are you going to be sick? he asked her. Wha What? No! She snapped. Already this was going as predicted in her head. I'm sorry he said back to her. You just got really pale and you were staring right through me I thought something was wrong. The color immediately came flooding back into her face and she was again uncomfortable. Jack tells me that you could use some help learning how to play pool. He handed her the cue. I gotta few tricks up my sleeve I can show you. Reluctantly like a three year old who has to go to bed, she slid off her bar stool and walked over to the pool tables with the hottest man she had ever laid eyes on. I knew he was dangerous and she tossed back the rest of her beer.

Nerves were getting the best of her but slamming back another shot of bourbon wasn't going to make the situation any better. She looked up to see Jacks smiling at her. She flipped him the bird and tried to focus on the game of pool that was in her opinion an epic fail. After seven scratches and two wrong eight ball calls she decided to call it quits. It was getting late and she had promised herself that she was going to wrap up the loose ends of her book. The publishers were breathing down her neck for the last part. I've got to go she said more gruffly than she meant to. Why did her nerves make her sound like a bitch? He turned to her and she was not sure what to expect next. His eyes hooked her again into that dream like state. What was behind those eyes, she wondered. What were they seeing in all her awkwardness? Please, he said. Allow me to walk you home. It’s not that far she replied. I can manage it on my own. Suddenly ill at ease and wishing that she never came out. It is dark out he said. And my father would never forgive me if I allowed someone as pretty as you to walk home alone in the dark. Christ, she thought he's chivalrous too? He reached out his hand and brushed her hair away from her eyes. She felt flush again.

They stood there for a long moment just looking at each other. The only thing that came to her mind was the movie Made in Heaven with Kelly McGillis and Timothy Hutton. As if she had spent life time after life time with this man. She took his hand and looked at him with a devilish grin. Fine! Walk me home! But that’s it and she gently punched him on his arm. He feigned a wince and grinned. Satisfied with himself he picked up the cues to put them back on the wall. She walked up to Jacks. He's going to walk me home Jacks, if I don't call you in fifteen minutes come find me ok? Jack winked at her. Don't worry kiddo you're safe. I've known that guy a long time. Use to play hockey with my little brother until he blew his knee out. To bad, he was a great skater. Fast as the wind that guy. Got it Jacks, but I'm still gonna call you. She blew a kiss and turned to go.

They walked in silence feeling awkward. The liquid courage that had started the pool game was wilting away. What was it about this man that made her feel so comfortable and terrified? She began searching for memories that provided a similar feeling as the one she felt right now. She couldn't find one.

So, Jack tells me that you're a writer? Yes she replied startled by the sound of her voice and annoyed that she had let herself slip into her own mental fertilizer. I write crime novels. Really? He replied. She laughed out loud at his apparent shock. What? You think I write Harlequin "soft porn" books for the desperate house wife? It was meant to be a joke and came out like a bark. He was surprised by the verbal assault but apologized regardless. I'm sorry he said sheepishly. I didn't mean to imply, and she cut him off. No, no. I'm sorry I didn't mean to snap at you. I anticipate people to say that so I'm automatically on the defense. I'm the one who is sorry. She stopped abruptly and turned to look at him and without realizing it had reached out to hold his hand. Apology accepted and he gave her a little wink.

He had remained true to his word. He walked her to her door waited for the sound of the lock to click and left. She leaned her back to the door and let out a sigh. She was tired and mentally exhausted. The night had proven more interesting than she planned. She thought of Jacks and how good it was to see him. He was a good friend, her only friend. She placed her wallet and keys in the large seashell on the table and it hit her. She never got his name. You’re such a moron! She said out loud. Proof, that she had zero ability to participate in the game. She phoned Stella’s and informed Jack that she was home safe. With a shaky voice she said to Jack. I need to ask you something and if you laugh at me I’ll come right back down there and kick your ass. Jack paused trying to figure out the seriousness of her tone. Like I said Frenchie, it’s not in my nature to poke a bob cat. She couldn’t help but smile. The man I was playing pool with. What is his name? Jacks roaring laugh came crashing into her ear. Ohhhh Frenchie he replied. You are funnier than you know. With that, she hung up the phone, humiliated and went to bed.


Monday, January 31, 2011

Hey Mon!!! We Be Goin To Reggae Fest In Da Osmobile Mon!

I should start this off by saying: Mom, you may not want to read this....but it was an ACCIDENT!!!!!

In honor of borrowing Dads car week! [oh this is just the tip of the iceberg folks] This frantic call came from the payphone at camp as the car we were going to take broke down.

Me -"Dad! Can I please borrow the car for the weekend?"

Dad - "Where are you going?"

Me - "Reggae Fest in Burlington VT on Saturday"

Dad - "OK Ren I'll drop the car off on Friday"

There are two things I would like to point out here. A) Honesty that the under 21 daughter fully tells her parents where she is going and B) Had they really known what Reggae Fest was all about I'm pretty sure they would have given a harsh NO! [hence my theory in it never hurts to ask!]

This was a collective group from Bernadette and Fatima going up to Vermont. The 4 hour drive up - The 12 hour stay - The drive back to Wolfboro.

Our descent into Burlington was equivalent to a prisoners 24 hour furlough. We all had to be back at base with in 36 hours. We packed an unlimited supply of cheap Vodka, MGD and possibly some other illicit substances that were not in MY possession. We set up shop with a massive picnic spread, sat in a circle Koombieyah style and proceeded to each carve out a pineapple for our Vodka drinking enjoyment. We listened to music and breathed in the sweet sweet well you know......It was nothing less than extraordinary.

A few hours into it I recall sitting there on my little blanket fest of love thinking....I'm hungry. Well, I must have said the words out loud because the hand of God came from above and handed me.....

a brownie.

You know the scene from Pulp Fiction when John Travolta says "I've never tried a $5 shake?" and then he takes a sip and says "That's a good f'n shake". That's pretty much my experience with eating this brownie.

Needless to say I woke up about 8 hours later...First I opened my eyes to see light fluffy clouds and then music and then confusion. I sat up and my blanket circle of friends all started clapping. I was most embarrassed and couldn't figure out what had happened. Its very difficult to have a group of twenty drunk people all reenact me taking the brownie, falling over, passing out laying on the blanket laughing their asses off. But they all stayed to make sure I was still breathing. Thankfully!

The rest of the day was spent drinking a ton of water and not taking any more hand outs from the group next to us as they too! were getting quite the laugh. This was the day I learned to NEVER take brownies from strangers. This was also the day I was introduced to watching my friend do a giant whip-it from a balloon. As we were packing folks up and searching for missing parties I came across {I'll call her Sue - because I'm not sure she wants to be mentioned in this} Sue, running towards me going....you've got to try this!!! I then proceeded to watch Sue in-hale off this massive romper room balloon, her face turned purple and she fell backwards to the ground.

I'm not a certified EMT but I'm pretty certain this can't be good. So we all go running over and she's laying there laughing and clutching onto that balloon for life. Sue!! what the hell are doing?? You gotta try it.....that, is awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwesssssommmmmmmmmmmme dude. Ahhh, I've had enough adventure for one day thank you very much. We scrapped Sue off the ground and brought her back.

Here is the interesting part - As we were getting ready to go I ran into a girl who had locked her keys out of the car. One of my friends who was staying in Burlington knew that there was a Lock Smith downtown. So we picked her up and brought her downtown. MANY years later my Sister in-law is telling me a story of how she went to Reggae Fest and locked her keys out the car and someone brought her to the locksmith. I said did she drive a Red Sentra? Yes. Yeah this is gonna sound weird but that was me. Funny how paths cross isn't it?

The drive home that night was forever long. Nothing is more boring than driving down Interstate 89 with 4 other people sleeping in the car. I've never been a fan of Jersey Barrier's and Orange buckets on the highway and I'm glad at least one person stayed awake to keep me company. It was the moment that I looked up and thought I was about to run into the back end of an 18 wheeler and realized it was road sign. DAM!! I thought I was OK!!! A few moments later I hear this........

You know Renee, I think I'm still wasted.....I thought that sign was giant truck!!!



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Friday, January 28, 2011

The Dead Are Coming!!

[this story will be the beginning of Becoming Me. imagine telling a story after a few glasses of wine where you segment off to million other things. that's how this series is going to start off]

In my younger days I was quite the little tree hugger. And after working a couple summers at Camp Bernadette as a counselor I forged some amazing friendships with some very special people. Working at camp was one of the best experiences I ever had. A good amount of the people who worked there had spent their entire childhood years at this camp. I was most definitely coming in as "a stranger". For whatever reason Camp and I were meant to be and it was as if I had been going there my entire life. During my stint at Bernadette I became great friends with Mary Gruetzke and Margot Messier.


Now that you know all of that irrelevant information let me tell you about the time I borrowed my dads car to go see the Grateful Dead.....

Me - "Dad! Can I borrow the car to go see the Grateful Dead with Mary? They are coming up and we are going to drive down to see them together.

Dad - Sure

Our plan was that I would leave on Friday drive down to Rhode Island hang out at her house and we would leave early Saturday morning to drive down to Baltimore, stay overnight and leave early to drive back to Rhode Island and New Hampshire Sunday. As I'm preparing to leave on Friday:

Dad - "So, I'll see you tomorrow night?"

Me - "No, the show is tomorrow night, today I'm driving to Rhode Island and then we are driving to Maryland."

Dad - "WHAT???" "I thought you said they were coming up?" "Maryland is not coming up!"

Me - "Well, they are coming up to Maryland. Its not that far."

Dad - "Its 13 hours away!"

Me - "Can I still use the car?"

Dad - "grumblegrumblegrumblegrumblegrumblegrrrrrrrrrrrrr yes." "You need to be careful! Drive safely" "Don't let the car overheat!!" "Call me if anything goes wrong".

So off I went. The drive down to Rhode Island was completely uneventful. The drive to Maryland was another story.

I-95 will take you any place you want to go on the Eastern Seaboard. Our bags were packed and our tickets were in hand. We were off to see The Dead...until suddenly as we were about to cross the George Washington Bridge the car started to over heat. I saw a Citgo station right off the exit before crossing over and made an abrupt turn off the highway.

I blindly turned my car into the Citgo station and said, "I'll be right back." I trotted over to the attendant in my hippie skirt and long hair and said to the very large black man behind the bullet proof glass [how odd] that I needed a gallon of anti-freeze. No response. "Excuse me, sir? May I please purchase a bottle of anti-freeze?" As he stood there looking right at me with no response I suddenly saw in the reflection of the window 5 large black men. All in aviator sunglasses one with a beret`. One of them spoke to the man behind the bullet proof glass and then to me as I very slowly turned around and tried very hard to stop myself from pooping like an infant.

"What is it that you need Miss?" I ahhhhhh just need a bottle of anti-freeze. What was taking place in my head was. "Holy crap Jesus please get me out of here. I have no idea where I am. I think we are going to die. I'm pretty sure they don't want my Grateful Dead tickets...where gonna die....where gonna die.....where gonna die......

The two men corresponded back and forth in some other language and then Mr. Beret guy said to me. "Twenty Dollars". Sure here....here is Twenty American Dollars for a $2.99 bottle of anti-freeze. Yes sir here it is please take it and please don't kill me in the process...are they carrying guns??? WTF? Its broad daylight? Where the hell am I??? Don't look, don't look, don't look just hand the money over try not to have shaky hands and hope to God above that I get that bottle of anti-freeze. The man behind the bullet proof glass unlocked the window and slid it back just enough to jam the bottle through and immediately slammed the window shut.

[insert loud PTHTTTTTTTTTHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!! noise here]

I took the bottle of anti-freeze and turned around to the Mr. Beret man and thanked him for helping me. He replied with this. "You are welcome Miss. Now hurry up! You have less than five minutes to put that in your car and get the hell out of here. Any longer than that and I cannot be responsible for what is going to happen to you." "You must be nuts to pull your car into the middle of the Bronx Miss. Hurry up and get out of here."

What transpired next is a bit of a blur. Jamming the hood open, the sound of a clock ticking in my head. Mary freaking out in the car. Trying to get the key into the ignition and having no idea how to get back onto the highway. It was like having a target on the car. HEY LOOK AT US!!!! WE'RE FROM NEW HAMPSHIRE!!!!! Mary telling me to hurry up and get us out of here.

Oi! I don't think we stopped the car that day until we got to the hotel. But we made it to the concert and it was amazing! It is the only show I ever went to where they played Scarlet Begonias. In fact below is the set list from the entire show!!

Capital Centre, MD
March 16 1990

Let the Good Times Roll
Touch of Grey
New Minglewood Blues
Peggy-O
Queen Jane Approximately
Loser
Black-Throated Wind
Bird Song
Blow Away


Scarlet Begonias
Estimated Prophet
Ship of Fools
Man Smart/Woman Smarter
drums
The Other One
Stella Blue
Sugar Magnolia

This Could Be the Last Time


 We experienced what all Dead Heads experience at a show. It was awesome and I'm so glad I had the chance to experience it with Mary. I will never ever forget it. And neither will my Dad as he still asks. "Hey Ren! Are The Dead coming up?" aaaaaahhahahahahahaha. Thanks for the car Dad!

On Deck - Borrowing "the car" to go to Reggae Fest in Vermont....Holly?


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