Sometimes the past (i.e. what happened this summer and in Mexico) smacks me in the face and I realize I have a lifetime of recovery ahead of me.

 I'm going to start this one off by saying thank you...again. Being able to sit down and write and know that there are people out there who actually read has probably been the one single thing that has helped me the most since everything happened this summer. I think its 2am, I can't sleep and there is no where but here that I have to unload everything that is racing through my brain. 

Yesterday, I was exhausted. Probably a combination of being pregnant, the holidays, I'm sleeping on a borrowed bed in my own bedroom and I'm living out of suitcase. Bubs and I had a literal magical evening on Friday. We got to have our candlelit dinner, we walked around the neighborhood to look at the Christmas lights and take note of how so much has changed, who still lives in what house, who has moved, etc.. And when we got home it was even warm enough of for us to grab a blanket and lay on double chaise lounge by the pool and drift off to sleep before getting up and going to bed inside.  Usually with a night like that, I'm so energized for the next day but it wasn't to be. 

We were supposed to take the kids over to Bub's parent's house and stay and hang out for a while. I love my mother in law but sometimes her and my energy go in opposite directions and I after making the kids breakfast, I just couldn't get myself hyped up to go. We also had an adult Christmas party in the evening so I basically told Bubs I could do one or the other. He was excited about seeing some of the friends we don't often see at the party so he said he'd cover for me with his mom. I had to admit that I would rather do the party as well. 

I was able to take a really long nap and woke up and had 8 missed calls and probably 20 missed texts asking me not only when I was coming over (Mom, I'm sure Bubs discussed that with you) but utterly trivial things like (actual text): "Abby says she's wants to start wrestling instead of JJetsu--isn't wrestling for boys only? Aren't you afraid of her getting hurt" (I don't know lady, I have a husband who has equal decision making power, and he's probably standing right in front of you). I turned my phone off and tried to go back to sleep but I kept mulling over how frustrating she can be at times.  

Bubs got home and was super apologetic and said that it was really best I didn't go as it was worse in person. I think he could see it on my face that I wasn't really hyped to go the party and said we could stay home, but I was thinking its so rare that he wants to go and do anything social that I figured I'd better take advantage. The party was fine, mostly people who we still have some loose association with from our high school days, with some additions and subtractions to the group as we've all gotten older. They are all people I like and usually I would love a social gathering like that but I just wasn't feeling it. Though I got really excited when my best friend from high school showed up. I hadn't seen or heard from her in probably 10 or 11 years. 

As a segue, I was probably a hard person to be friends with when I was in school. Not only was I already basically betrothed at 13, I also had two built in best friends with my sisters. So while I was very social, looking back, I don't know if I was close with as many people as I thought I was. The one exception to this was the girl I saw last night, Peyton. She was in gymnastics with me so we were able to spend a ton of time together at practice and at meets. Peyton also grew up in an insanely strict household and was grounded for most of her childhood so it didn't really interrupt when I would spend so much time with Bubs or my sisters. As an example of this, she and I were caught sneaking out to meet up with boys when we were 11. I got few smacks on the behind with a wooden spoon, Peyton was grounded for more than a year. She had to quit gymnastics and I only ever saw her at school--and part of her punishment was that she had to eat lunch by herself in library so we didn't even get to hang out then. It's actually very sad because I think she could have been an elite level gymnast had she not taken that year off, she never quite caught up to me in terms of skill after that.  And since Peyton had amazingly strict parents, she had the typical Texas girl reaction to it and went off the rails (Peyton is the girl who joined me in a bikini top and cut off jeans to advertise the baseball car wash). On weekends where I would watch Netflix (the DVD version!) with Bubs in his grandparent's TV room and my biggest fear was getting a hicky, Peyton had guys from the University of Texas driving all the way down to pick her up so she could spend weekends doing cocaine with them in their apartments in Austin. I used to listen her stories with a sense of voyeurism, envy and disgust. She would get caught, get grounded again and repeat until her parents forced her to go to a very strict small religious college. I think we've seen each other maybe 5 times since graduating high school and even then its been a while. 

I couldn't believe it when I saw her through the party but she actually spotted me first and came up and gave a huge hug. We did the typical talk about being pregnant again and how far along I am and she thought that our other two kids were like 4 and 3 and about lost it when I told her they will both have birthdays in January and will be 9 and 7.  She lives in California and is on her second marriage and has tried fertility treatment but it doesn't seem to be working so she and her husband are trying to adopt. I got to meet him and he was very nice but wasn't really mixing in with the crowd so he asked her if it would be ok if he went back to their hotel. She asked me if I would drive with her to drop him off and then we could come back. 

On the way back, we decided that we'd rather just go into a diner and catch up instead of deal with all the people. We had such a nice conversation and caught up about all the places we've both lived and what it's like living in Southern California and how we want to buy a beach house in the San Diego area both for us and Airbnb. She said she was so jealous of my family because she'd always wanted kids because she always felt like she could do a better job than her parents did and not being able to conceive was the reason her first marriage broke apart and she feels she's very lucky to have found a guy who's willing to at least try fertility treatment and adoption. 

Then the conversation turned to us moving. She said she had to clarify something that she'd heard earlier at the party. I figured it was no big deal so I told her to go ahead. She reiterated that it's kind of rough but couldn't believe it based on knowing me. I had told her we never really had any secrets when we were kids so she could ask me anything now. She said there were whispers at the party that the "real" reason we are moving is because I had cheated on Bubs over the summer and we were getting away from the embarrassment. 

There are times where I wish I was a cool, non-emotional person because the second she said it, heavy tears were coming out of my eyes and I was mortified that I was sitting in a public place. She said that she was so sorry and didn't mean to bring it up. I told her it was fine but I was sort of dumb founded because its been six months and in all the interactions I've had with people from my past since, this hasn't come up. I asked her where she heard it and when she said the name I knew instantly where the rumors were starting. It had to be one of the women I went on the trip with, who I'm not even that close to. The person that Peyton named who was at the party is a close friend of hers. I asked Peyton if anyone else heard her say it at the party, she said no but that its safe to assume the rumors are out there. I agreed. 

I tried to hold back the tears but firmly told her that no, I had not in fact cheated but I had made some very dumb decisions that led to me being basically sexually assaulted in hotel room. I recounted the story that I've told so many times and she said she was horrified that people would be spreading rumors after what happened to me. I told her that's not even the worst of it, the story had blown up online and for weeks new reddit threads or youtube videos would video would pop up where strangers were analyzing our lives. Most of the time coming to the conclusion that  I was a total whore who had cheated on my hard working, near perfect husband. I told her about the very dedicated trolls who harassed  me for months while saying some of the most vile thing imaginable about me, my husband and worst of all, my kids. 

I told her the rumors were definitely coming from "Linda," one of the women I went on the trip with. She said we had never been close with her, why would I even go. I told her how Linda's husband had really tried to rip us off when he was doing some work on our pool and Linda's peace offering was to let me fill in last minute after someone dropped out on what was supposed to be a bachelorette party trip. I was so excited because I never got to do anything like that, my husband and I had been very distant and I sort of hoped that if I went on the trip not only could I get a break, but that he may actually miss me a bit. She said that seemed pretty innocent and couldn't really lead to rumors of cheating. So I had to explain how the other women basically wanted to sleep the whole week which didn't really fit with what I'd hoped for so I made friends with a guy who seemed nice, but actually turned out to be something of a predator. The only reason I wasn't actually raped is probably because he was very old and out of shape, he only got me in his room once when he was really drunk and about to pass out and I told him I would kill him if he tried to touch me again. I explained that Linda and the other woman met the guy and even hung out with him and should have seen how utterly platonic it was and assuming I was cheating was pretty far-fetched. She asked if I'd ever told them about it and what really happened. I said that no, I was kind of too shell shocked in the immediate aftermath and they weren't really close enough for me talk about with them after we got home. Maybe I should have, although maybe they wouldn't have believed me either. 

She asked what I'd done about since and I told her all the things that Bubs and I had been through with counseling and all my individual things with the psychiatrist and her team but that I hadn't really clicked with the individual therapist that was recommended to me so I stopped going. She said that I was probably downplaying the trauma that actually happened. I told her I didn't think so, that the whole thing lasted less than a minute and if Bubs could forgive me for the choices that led up to it, then I could get past it.

She said that I probably needed more therapy and said she had a similar experience when she was in college. Her story isn't mine to tell and while it's not exactly like my situation, the similarities are kind of striking.  An older guy that she thought she could trust took things too far in a moment where she was very vulnerable. She said that though the actual event lasted less than a minute, she's been in therapy on and off for years because it always seems to pop up at inopportune times. Her situation is made even worse because she blames her infertility on her choice to be vulnerable at the wrong time with the wrong person...though many OBs and fertility specialists have told her it isn't the case. She also has a lot of guilt because she feels like her promiscuity in high gave her an unspoken reputation that shows on her like a neon sign to people that have never met her before. 

We talked for so long that the diner staff had to remind us that they were closing at midnight and I had totally forgot that I still had a very anti-social husband stuck at a party. We drove over to pick him up and Mr Introverted was having the time of his life arguing with a guy who had become an airline pilot as to who was better behind the controls. He's passed out in our borrowed queen sized bed as I type this and I know for certain he's going to wake up in a few hours saying "you can never let me drink like that again, I'm sooooo hungover." He's so cute when he's an immature dumbass who can't hold is liquor. 

While Bubs was putting on his show, Peyton snuck me with to a backroom to continue our conversation and she insisted that she hook me up with her therapist who specializes in sexual assault recovery. She could tell by the way I cried at restaurant that I'm far from "over it." The therapist lives and works in Orange County but will probably see me over zoom. We agree that there's nothing I can do about people spreading rumors and they will probably get worse after we move but eventually people will forget about it and move on to the next bit of local drama. And the fact is that the people who matter to me wouldn't believe them anyways. 

I must have fallen asleep  before I hit the publish button on this--it's 11am, the kids are back from Bub's parents and I'm going to drag his hung over ass for our last service at our childhood church. I skimmed over this but didn't edit it. I'm glad for that I got to read it how I wrote it at 2am last night. That's how I'm going to publish it. Even though we are heading to service this morning, I don't know if I'm a believing Christian anymore. But I have to think that running into Peyton last night was some sort of sign from whatever greater power exits in the universe. I've made a lot of progress, but I've got a long way to go and God (big G, little g, or plural) wants the best for me and my family.