Silent All These Years.

I haven't posted on this blog for years. I felt like I had nothing to say. Nothing new or revolutionary anyway. But, now, I feel the need to speak.

I've had 3 abortions. Yes. As heinous and gross as that word sounds.  . .that's what I've had. Abortions. "Termination" sounds better. . . and it's also the correct word. But, plain and simple, I've had abortions.

Allow me to explain.

My first abortion was a result of a rape. I was 22 years old. A guy broke into my bedroom window and raped me in my sleep. The result? Severe trauma and a pregnancy. If abortion wasn't legal, funded and accessible. . .I would have killed myself.

Which leads to my second abortion. The same man raped me. He somehow wormed his way back into my life. I was asleep in my apartment. He convinced security he was my boyfriend, so they buzzed him in. He raped me again while I was in a semi-concious state. Again, a pregnancy was the outcome. And again. . . the choice was suicide or an abortion. I decided the abortion was the best option.

Fast forward many years. I'm 38. I'm dating a guy I like. He's broke. He lives in someone's basement. He knows I'm not on birth control. He told me he'd be THRILLED if I got pregnant. I did. He wasn't thrilled. In fact he pushed me against a  wall and threatened me. Get an abortion "or else." He said he'd never leave me if I terminated the pregnancy. So I did. Medically. I laid naked on his bathroom floor screaming as I basically went through unmedicated labor. He went to take a yoga class. Then he dumped me to go back to his ex-girlfriend. He's since had a baby with another woman. They are not together as a couple.

Listen. No one skips joyfully to an abortion. It's a horrible life crisis. Each one of my abortions have left an unremovable mark on my life.

Here's the bottom line. Abortion has been around for centuries. Frank Sinatra's mother was convicted of performing illegal abortions. Roe vs. Wade gave us the safety we needed. No more back allies. No more coat hangers. No more throwing ourselves down a flight of stairs. No more suicide.

If you're against abortion, fine. Don't have one. BUT. . . .if you claim to be "pro-life" . . take care of the unwed mother. Support her emotionally and financially through her pregnancy. Then. . .make sure the child (regardless if it's "perfect" or not) receives care for the rest of his or her life.

Stop coming at me with your "pro-life" bullshit until you've walked in a woman. . with an unwanted pregnancy's.  . .shoes.

What the Hell?

What the hell is wrong with someone who owns an online women's magazine, has 20+ mutual friends, sees me all the time in yoga. . .but won't accept my Facebook friend request? There's only one logical answer. . . she is a cunt. :)

Sigh. . .

I start with a sigh, because that's how I begin most sentances when speaking about myself. Clearly, I find me exhausting. I have every reason to be tired of myself. I'm a 35 year old recovering alcoholic widow. What a fucking title. I also have a passion for yoga. As much as I love what it does for my body, it has failed to deliver the promised peace of mind. I'm frustrated by everything. I'm also easily intimidated and scared. Precisely why, after countless trainings, I haven't stared to teach yoga. I've also been told I'm funny. . .sometimes. Not enough to finally get my ass on stage. . .even after countless trainings in that too. Then there's the whole drunk thing. THAT is SUPER time consuming. . . .AA works, but is also emotionally drainging. An emotion suck is the last thing I need.

Then, there's the men issue. . .that and my relationship with my late husband could be a whole other blog. However, once I settle in and try to remain focused. . .all this stuff should come together.

I'm not shure where to begin. I guess just where I'm at in the present is a good place to start. . . :)