Little Lola’s Outfit – finally complete :-)

The D-rings finally arrived and Mom finished sewing the leg pockets for Little Lola’s pants and the pair of suspenders! Now they are quite like I had wanted them to be. The original picture of the pants showed the pants had little chains and stuff attached to the D-rings and suspenders, but I suppose I can still do that later, when I find suitable little chains. For now, the outfit is complete. See for yourself:

Didn’t that turn out awesome?

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Thank you to my mom for all the sewing! ❤

Little Lola’s outfit is coming together

Look what mom surprised me with yesterday. She had bought shoes and sewed a shirt for Little Lola and when we returned from our little trip to the mountains yesterday, I got to pick an iron-on thingy to go on it and found the PERFECT one! 😀

Doesn’t Little Lola look awesome in the new outfit?? I can’t wait for the pants to get finished!

click to enlarge

She still needs some approproate bracelets. I’m also considering whether I should use the pink marker I ‘dyed’ her hair with to draw a little on the white caps of her shoes. Like a little pink star maybe. Or a skull. Hmmmmm…..

More Progress for Little Lola!!

Mom has been sewing yesterday evening and sewed some more this morning and I think it’s looking sooooooo awesome already! It’s not even half done because the pockets on the pants’ legs are still missing, and the suspenders are missing, too, but I’m real happy!! 😀 Isn’t it AWESOME????

(Bestest. Mom. Ever.)

First progress for Little Lola

Okay, so it’s likely you won’t find that any interesting at all, and it doesn’t really have a lot to do with mental health or anything, just with me being real excited! Hehe! Look what I just helped make:

It’s inside out and not sewed together yet, but I helped with measuring, cutting and putting the needles in and I’m kinda proud of that. It’s also already looking like a pair of trousers! Kinda. 😀

One step closer to Little Lola’s outfit! :-)

Look what just arrived in the mail! Mom had ordered a pink fabric with tiny white dots!

That, along with an ill-fitting black shirt will go on to become a little outfit kind of like the one I had envisioned! I’m delighted!!! 😀 And in case you forgot what I had envisioned, here it is again:

It’s gonna be AWESOME!!!! 😀

Pink marker + Little Lola = ?

Pink marker + Little Lola = PINK HAIR! 🙂

Since I don’t want to share the sad stuff only, today’s good news is that I finally found a marker in the right shade of pink to give Little Lola a pink streak of hair with. Unfortunately the flash reflected off her hair, but you can still see it. Because she needed a pink streak in her hair to be Litte Lola in style. I love my pink streak! Yes, it probably makes me 13 or something, but then, what else is new, I love it anyway! So it was a matter of course that Little Lola would get one, too. Here she is:

Now if I can get mom to sew me little doll versions of those clothes, I’ll be a happy camper ever after! Really! I promise! Purrty, purrty please with a cherry on top and puppy eyes! Hehe!

Don’t you think that would suit Little Lola well?

(I’d not mind wearing those clothes myself either . . .  🙂  )

What puts meaning into my life?

I have been skyping with my oldest sister yesterday night. We’ve been talking about how I’m struggling with all this extra shit every Christmas and New Years’ and I explained a little about how it felt. She listened and then asked me ‘That sounds so hard, what makes it worth it?” She is direct like that.

I was cross with her for catching me off-guard with the question, and because I thought it sounded criticizing, somehow. So I didn’t reply, but kept thinking about the question anyway. What makes life worth the crap? Worth the pain? Worth the seemingly unending struggle?

I don’t really know for sure, but something makes it worth it. Something makes it meaningful.

I’m wondering what it is. I need to go back to the question, it seems like it would be beneficial to know. Right now I only have this vague feeling that somehow it’s worth the struggle. I didn’t always feel this way, but at the moment I do.

I really need to give it some more thought.

In the meantime, I made another snapshot of my Christmas pressie doll. Just because I felt like it. I think she’s pretty. She also smiles like maybe she knows the answer to my question. If only I could figure out how to make her talk. 😉

The Sexual Healing Journey, Chapter 2

Okay. Here we are. The journey proper begins.

But before I start, let me just say that there’s this big part of me which is all like this:

Wanting to hide, feeling unsafe, wanting to protect myself, dreading everything that might be about to come. Unhappy that it has to be so difficult. Wanting to just cover my eyes and pretend to not be concerned by any stupid journey. But despite those feelings, this part of me is still being good, keeping silent, at least. No panic, just a littke unwillingness. And it’s just one part. The other part still wants to go ahead. So here I am, setting out for the journey.

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Part one of the journey is called “becoming aware” and consists of four chapters. This is the first of those four and it’s called “realizing there is a sexual issue”.

The central statement of the chapter is that it says many survivors of sexual abuse don’t realize they have sexual issues and/or don’t want to face the fact that they do, because it’s embarrassing and personal and hard to face. Yeah. I agree. The chapter also said that often there’s a key moment or “flash of discovery” when people realize they do have a sexual issue.

Then the book prompted me to consider if any of those four apply to my own life:

1. I’m acting in strange ways that don’t make sense.
2. My sexual problem isn’t getting any better.
3. My partner is hurting.
4. New circumstances have made me more aware.

And that’s basically the chapter.
Phew! I’m relieved. Nothing too bad yet.

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So here I am, giving those questions serious thought, even when I am pretty sure that I already realize that I do have sexual issues. But it can’t hurt to add some structure to the realization, so here I go. If you are sensitive to sexual content or feel offended by it, you might want to stop reading. Please make a safe decision for yourself.

1. I’m acting in strange ways that don’t make sense.

Bull’s eye. That’s pretty much the most obvious thing about my sexual issues. I am often acting in strange ways that don’t make sense. But that puts it mildly. I’m acting and reacting in strange ways that make me feel utterly disgusted and sickened with myself. I feel deeply embarrassed over many of those behaviors. At the same time I can’t switch them off. I’ll name a few, despite the embarrassment, so I don’t end up beating around the bush, as I guess that’s not the goal of “realizing”.

So what strange ways do I act in?

• I have a sick tendency to look for sex with random men as a form of self-punishment. I make myself available for whatever they’d like to do, kinky stuff, stuff that hurts, whatever.
• Imagery of sexual violence haunts me and torments and arouses me at the same time. I hate it. Sometimes it stops at the mental images, sometimes they come with urges to act upon them.
• I misunderstand innocent affection within the family for sexual attention and react accordingly. Or I get ideas all by myself and behave inappropriately towards dad and sometimes mom, too.

There are more things, but those are embarrassing me enough already and you probably get the idea. All those things don’t make sense, because I’m in no way living in an environment that appreciates or promotes those behaviors anymore, I really don’t want to behave that way and the behavior generally has unpleasant results. Even so, I behave that way.

2. My sexual problem isn’t getting any better.

I have been having those issues ever since I was removed from my family. That’s 11 long years ago this January. During the time I lived in and out of hospitals and group homes the problems haven’t changed one iota, but then, I never really cared about it. Ever since I came live with my new family, I have tried to keep the behavior under control, but it’s often not successful. Still. So it’s not really getting any better. Check.

3. My partner is hurting.

I don’t have a partner. I’m not anywhere near having one. I don’t even want one. I’m glad. So that, at least, isn’t a problem. But if I had one, that partner would probably be hurting.

4. New circumstances have made me more aware.

Well, the circumstances aren’t brand-new anymore, but even so: check. Coming to live with my family has definitely made me more aware that I have, indeed, issues. See, when I was living in hospitals and group homes, I was living with all those other people, other girls mainly, who were also a few cards short of their full decks, many of whom were not behaving that much differently from myself. So even when I was having problems because of my issues, I wasn’t the only one and I could still feel like this was somewhat normal. Well… now, living with my family, I’m definitely the odd one out.

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Okay, so altogether this was a fairly gentle start to the journey. The realizing part is okay with me. It’s embarrassing to write about, but even so, still okay. So it was an easier start than I thought. I’m doing okay. I’m relieved.

Tomorrow’s chapter is called “acknowledging the abuse”. We’ll see how that one goes. Tomorrow.

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Missed the past episodes of the journey? Here they are:

A Project for 2013
The Sexual Healing Journey Begins, Chapter 1

 

Book source:
MALTZ, Wendy (2012): The Sexual Healing Journey. A Guide for Survivors of Sexual Abuse; Third Edition; Harper Collins. New York.

Tough Day

After a tough night, unsurprisingly, there is a tough day. I’m trying to make the best of it, but it’s a challenge. Why is it that good days so often come with a right royal rebound? I’d like to know who invented that so I can kick them.

I tried to zentangle my way to more calm today, but it didn’t really work because I couldn’t focus long enough and got frustrated and fed up with my drawing. So here’s a zentangle from yesterday, which I did during breakfast while I waited for everyone to leave.

What temporarily distracted me was when mom turned an old blouse of mine into a vest kind of thing for little Lola. I enjoyed watching her sew and telling her where the stars go. I also enjoyed fashioning an earring of mine into a pendant for the necklace. But the distraction was only temporary and afterward I went back to feeling… weird.

Here’s little Lola displaying how I feel.

Yeah, not much up with me today. Before lunch mom shooed me outside to grab some sunlight. I bristled. We ended up sitting in the cold on the veranda. Strange day.

I feel like I have all those things going on in my head, but instead of happening in full view, all thoughts have disappeared behind frosted glass. I can press my nose against it and make out shapes and stuff, but that’s it. Maybe that’s a cue that I need to spend the day recharging rather than trying to figure out what’s going on in my head and getting frustrated over it.

Hey, but so I don’t come across as being all grumpy, I hit my 100th blog post today! This is the 101st! I don’t know why, but it feels worth mentioning. 🙂

The Day Christmas Turned GOOD!

I don’t have words to convey just HOW excited I am!! Seriously, I don’t! No fucking way in hell could any word be awesome enough, I’m so happy!!

So what happened?! First of all, we waved the family goodbye! They are good people and I love them. Really, I do. But loving all of them at once is a bit much. I’m better at loving them from a distance or one at a time, so I’m really, really, really relieved that they finally all hopped back into the cars they came in, and quite early in the day, too.

That made for a great start into the day! Seriously, once everyone was gone, I just sat down and listened to the silence and the familiar sound of mom doing the dishes everyone left her with after breakfast and it felt like finally, FINALLY after way too many days that stretched out like a mini eternity things are back the way they are supposed to be. So that alone was a top-notch start into the day.

It also meant Christmas was technically over. Good riddance and all that.

But THEN the mailwoman came. See, I’m curious and even when I never really get any mail, I always want to know what mail we do get. But instead of letting me take the mail with her, mom sent me away. She turned all “no, you stay in the living room today” and when I took offense and demanded she stopped this injustice, she just said “because I say so” with her ‘don’t you dare talk back now’ voice. Which almost ruined this perfect morning, because I got quite pissed at her over it.

So when she and dad came into the living room after the mailwoman was gone, I was sulking by myself in the armchair. I did my best to markedly ignore them, with mom having been so mean. But they came over and wished me a merry Christmas all over again. That was so weird and out of place that I forgot to keep sulking, because checking whether they had gone nuts took priority. Crazy family or what?!

Yet they were smiling and looked like they were serious, and produced from behind their backs a fairly big package. Not wrapped or anything, just a cardboard box.

Remember how I was disappointed because I was not getting the one thing I had ended up hoping to get for Christmas? How I had stupidly not even told mom (or anyone else, for that matter) that I was hoping to get that? The stupid disappointment that had sort of ruined Christmas before it even began, because nobody had known I was hoping to get that thing, and therefore ended up not getting it?

The thing was a doll that might have ended up at our house because a lady from the neighborhood had asked mom whether she had any use for it. I had caught a glimpse of the picture of the doll the lady had shown mom, more out of curiosity than because I care for dolls. But when I had seen the doll I had been caught by surprise, because hands down, the doll looks like little a plastic version of me. I kid you not. So when mom had told the neighbor lady she’d consider whether she wanted the doll, I had kind of started hoping that she’d say yes. And then I had started to really, dearly hope she’d say yes, because in my mind I had started picturing how cool it would be to make the doll, like, mini-clothes that are just the same as I would wear, and maybe put a pink strand in her hair like I have . . .

But of course I never told mom about any of it. That’s BPD for you. Surely everyone should be able to read my mind, right?! So when I had casually asked mom before Christmas whether she had decided what to do about the doll yet, and she said she had told the neighbor lady to rather make some child somewhere happy than have the doll gather dust with us, I was gravely, utterly, terribly disappointed. Devastated, really, because my little dear fantasy about turning the doll into a tiny version of myself just vanished into nothingness and I hated mom for not having thought of me.

Yeah. So guess what was in the box mom and dad produced from behind their backs.

Have I mentioned that I really, really love them? And not because they ended up spending all that money on the doll for me. That’s the part that makes me feel guilty, because I think for having been so stupid not to even tell mom, I shouldn’t be getting anything at all now. No, why I love them is that they noticed how disappointed I was and took it seriously. Instead of teaching me a lesson by saying “see, that’s what comes from not sharing your thoughts” they got me the doll and said “see, that’s what comes from sharing your thoughts”. I love them.

And I love the doll. Yes, that probably makes me a big kid, but I still love the doll. She looks like a mini-Lola. Her hair is the same color and length as mine, it slides over her eyes just like mine does and she has blue eyes, just like I do. Even the shape of her face looks similar to mine.

I adore her shoes and pair of jeans. The rest of her outfit I probably wouldn’t wear, but hey, I’m gonna change that! I’m gonna give her a pink strand of hair like I have and I’m gonna get her clothes I would wear. And then, I don’t know.

I’m so happy. Christmas turned GOOD. And I have awesome parents. I love, love, love, love, love them! Bring on the rest of the year and the start of the new one! 🙂