The Girl I Wouldn't Save

       Heavy hitter alert!  So in my quiet time this morning I noticed that I was feeling sad.  My heart was a little heavier than usual and my thoughts kept wandering to a girl that I once knew in high school many years ago.  I ignored these thoughts for a while until I reminded myself to be aware.  I turned off the radio in the car and allowed each roaming thought to produce a scene in my brain until I knew exactly what needed to be done.  I needed to remember.  This girl whose face was filling my morning thoughts belonged to an old friend, but one that I had not spoken to in years.  She was trouble, put quite plainly.  She was wild, she drank uncontrollably, she went home with strangers after long nights of dancing and often ended up in trouble with the police.  I loved her anyways, but had to distance myself.  Why was I feeling so guilty?  Because I could have saved her.  When I was fifteen I remember this girl coming over to visit for the first time.  She had stolen alcohol from her parents and proceeded to dance on the coffee table in front of my friends.  When they all lost interest and left the room, she admitted to me that her father had been sneaking into her room at night.
       I can still remember how my chest had tightened and my face grew red at the thought of what she was going through.  I immediately told her that she should tell her mom or move in with me or run away or call the police.  She had to do something!  But she gave me every reason she could think of as to why I had to keep it a secret, and I agreed to.  But as time went on and I kept her secret and watched her act out time and time again, I began to feel resentment towards her.  I didn't just resent her flirting with everyone else's boyfriends and flaunting her body, I resented her secret.  You see, she had the nerve to tell me about her secret and let me carry some of that weight.  But I had a secret of my own that I had never been brave enough to share with anybody.  I resented that I had been carrying the weight of my secret all by myself for so long while she seemed perfectly content to burden other people with hers.  I resented that, compared to her secret, my secret didn't seem very big anymore.  Not only was her secret worse than mine, but it was more complicated than mine.  But I think if I'm being completely honest, I resented how scared she made me feel.  It was a loss of control.  If she decided to tell someone then did I have to tell my secret too?  What would happen if people found out?  Would the family be torn apart?  Would anyone be mad at me?  Would everyone hate me?  So I did nothing.
       It's easy to say, "I was just a kid."  "I didn't know any better," is also a good excuse, but looking back as an adult I feel guilt because I should have said something to a trusted adult anyways.  I should have ignored my paralyzing fear and stood up for her.  If I had, then maybe she wouldn't have tried to kill herself only to awaken alone and covered in her own vomit two days later.  No one had tried to call her while she was passed out; no one even knew she was missing.  It's sad.  It's such a damn shame.  A girl as beautiful and smart and wonderful as her had become so wild from her inner pain that other people had trouble being with her.  I'm sorry.  I am so sorry.  I have tried to find this girl, to reach out to her and personally apologize, but I can't find her.  She has no social media account, her phone number has been changed, and her family is refusing to give out her contact information.  All I can do at this point is forgive myself.  But I won't give up on her either.  I wish that I had known back then that no one secret is worse or bigger than another. I wish that I had known that there was always help and support to be found, and I have nothing but overwhelming compassion for any woman who has been though sexual abuse.  You are not alone.
What's your #metoo?

In My Life

       Huge classic rock fan right here! (points at self with both thumbs)  Actually, I was raised on The Beatles.  Having a former hippie for a father meant that my childhood was full of loud music, whether it be from a tape player or from my dad's amp.  I love this one particular song because it tells a story that only a truly jealous type of woman (me again!) needs to understand.  Not just hear, but understand.  We listen as John Lennon tells his adoring wife that he often remembers the places that he's been and the people that he's met, and he loves them all.  But when he looks at her he knows that all of those places and people really don't mean anything comparatively, because no matter the love he's had before, he loves her MORE.  I would always smile impishly at my husband as he whispered that he loved me and I would reply that I loved him more.  But what I love about this, is that I can say that I don't love him more than he loves me...I love him more than I have ever loved anything before.  That's special.  This cover was played by my hipster brother-in-law and sung by my awesome sister.
What's your love song?

Insomnia Driven

       I was never the type of person to just be quiet.  When I awoke in the morning I would turn on music to jam to while I got ready for the day, rushed the kids out the door to school while we chatted, and then listened to morning shows in the car on the way to work.  Work was a busy blur, then radio to pick up kids, and nothing but chatter and noise until bed time...where my exhausted brain would refuse to sleep.  As soon as my head would hit the pillow my brain would suddenly be flooded with foods that I like, songs I haven't heard in a decade, and things I felt bad about doing fifteen years ago.  At first I tried sleep meds, diffusing sleepy time essential oils, and eventually a glass of wine and four hours later I would drift off on a cloud of uneasy sleep.  You know what I recently learned?  BE QUIET.  Turn the music off while you're putting mascara on in the morning and listen to what your brain is telling you.  Drive to work in silence and watch how you suddenly notice that there are other people in the cars that pass you by.  Listen closely to the thoughts that pull at your earlobes while you're trying to rest at night, because that's where your soul is taking you.  Pay attention to the guilt feelings and allow yourself to feel them.  Maybe your heart still feels bad because you need to apologize to someone.  THAT'S OK!  It's ok to hit someone up that you haven't seen in twelve years and apologize for dating their ex-boyfriend that one time in junior high.  They may cuss you out all over again, or they may be like, "Wow, thanks for that."  Either way, you're going to sleep better.  Maybe your dread feelings are because you were hurt and you're the one who needs an apology.  THAT'S OK!  Call your mom and tell her that you've been struggling with something that she said to you last month.  She could bend over backwards apologizing because she loves you and doesn't want you to hurt, or she may defend herself and give you nothing.  In that case you need to be prepared to forgive her anyways.  Either way, you will sleep better.  Sometimes we keep reliving things because we haven't quite processed them, and sometimes we bury them for so long that we forget its there while we're awake.  I have found that if there is any emotion or thought that nags and pulls at me while I'm quiet, its because it needs my attention.  Like a child it needs to be heard, looked at, and then spoken to.  
What do you hear when its quiet?