Preface: This must have been written in June 2018 & I chose never to publish it until now. I think I felt it was too personal at the time. But with all the things I've posted online before it & since I'm gonna slap it up here with other things I've written more recently in contrast. I have been writing more stories from friends & work & the pandemic, more politics & radical feminism & less my own life. But writing about my own life wasn't so bad. My literacy set me free like Fredrick Douglas said it would. Here you go. Let's do the time warp again...
This is the one year anniversary of having to sit in court in a little room with a little man on chairs made for littler people than he and I with 2 in between us and 4 total. Opposite corners of our metephorical boxing ring. While I was condescended to by two gross men one whom I had never met before and one whom I know better than anyone should know anyone ever.
We signed a form letter I could have downloaded a PDF of online that said we agreed to never talk to one another ever again. Phew that's a relief. Surely this little white piece of magic will protect me from the rapist murderer pedophile I engaged with for 6 years and who I told the truth about on the internet. But I was still happy. It still said all the things I wanted it to say. And surprisingly the things we were forbidden from doing listed all the things he had done to me and none of the things I had supposedly done to him.
It is still crazy to me that it cost me like $250 dollars which would have been $2000 but I got a refund cause I was innocent. But the police and court paperwork cost enough man hours to get that it wasted that much time and money. But I really had best case scenario. My family believed me. My behavior made sense to some people. I'm almost too honest really. Most people don't like it. But I'm keeping it. It makes me not want to kill myself like Kate Spade or Anthony Bordain. I have signed no contracts to anyone limiting what I can say.
Granted no one wants to hear what I have to say. And no one likely ever will without advertising dollars because that is the way the world works now. At least my ideas are safe as long as they are too long winded for most people to digest.
Now I'm doing fantastic. Nothing says "I am innocent" like moving your wife and 2 daughters and son to a remote town in Alaska. I worry about them being isolated with him. It's just been a long road.
Defeating my porn addicted abuser wasn't enough for me though and he still has access to women to abuse. I don't want any other women to be going through what I went through.
All the suicidal ideation I had my entire life (I was also abused by my brother starting somewhere between 9 and 12 until 19, supposedly he moved to Peru!) is gone and I now know my life has a purpose. Helping people has always been the only thing that got me through. Women with stories and purposes like mine having public existence helps a lot of women come to the breaking point to realize they can be free. I hope someday all of us are free. ;'-)
This week on Wednesday Gram didn't remember to wear earrings. And she didn't know how to put her head back to get her hair washed. Even though she hasn't known who me and my mom are for months except occasionally she always has earrings on and remembers to take them out when she feels them go back into the sink. Not this time.
I went to see my friends Jen and Julie play music at The Downtown in Red Bank. I've even afraid to go there since I was a kid. Afraid to run into my sisters or brother or worse their mother even though I don't know what she looks like. Maybe she doesn't know what I look like either. I only found out how to spell her name when I moved back into my house that was 3 doors down from the abuser I had to go to court with. I got a collections notice for a bill my brother had in his name when he lived there.
I know I'm not wrong. Men take my space and make it their own. I have documentation of that taking place over and over. Men think it is ok to colonize your space. They think it is their own. But #notallmen.
I left that and went to go see Bent Knee place at The Saint. A place I'm as comfortable in as my own home. A place I've been going to longer than I've had either of my current homes. They are so God damn talented. It was crowded for a Wednesday night. It wasn't just people I knew and my friend group it was a lot of people who evidently obsessively love Bent Knee and know all their lyrics. I do. But I didn't realize their are way more intense fans than that. And I realized how do you reconcile when you're Taylor Swift or Justin Timberlake status? If it just keeps growing like that?
How do you Live with not being human anymore?
Thursday I worked all day 10am to 8pm. With a break to pick up Zack from school. Friday I went for a massage in the morning like I usually do. But it was sort of depressing because I realized I don't really want to go there anymore. It's no longer exciting or relaxing for some reason. The time is too quiet with my own mind and I don't want to talk about anything with the therapist. Then I went to Lava Java to get a Large Iced Coffee and a chocolate croissant and a shot of espresso because I was exhausted already at 1030am I stopped at work to pick up the checks to deposit and went to the bank where I also ran in to get copies of a years worth of statements and check copies my mom needed. Then I had to take Turtle the 10 year old cat I adopted to the groomer and then I went to work. From 12 to 3 and did a haircut. Got Zack from school. Ate some lunch. Went back to work to do a blow out and clean up, left around 530. Got home took a shower got dressed did my makeup for the Porchistas Porch Drive Wristband Release Show because I Really Wanted To see people who smile when they see me. And I am having a hard time growing the circle of people who smile when they see me. Everyone seems stressed out lately. Or maybe they just hate me. But these guys don't hate me.
Last year before I came clean about going through what I went through. I was gravitating towards anyone who smiled every time they saw me. I had a multiple friends ask me if I was trying to fuck people because I smile at people and they smile at me when I see them. I don't want to fuck anyone. I think now finally even with the way I dress and the way I walk and talk and smile and laugh at certain people. I don't want to fuck anyone. If I want you to touch me at this point in any way I'm pretty sure you're a safe human being.
What if I just wanted to hold people's hands and look them in the eyes and tell them, "You are a beautiful human being." all creepy like.
Isn't that enough?
Isn't that more intimacy than anyone is used to because we're all in love with our screens which are a reflections of ourselves.
Birds of a feather flock together. Right? Not all men believe in war. Not all men believe in fighting. Some men believe in art and love just as much as any romantic. If you're a man in this world it's a lot more likely you don't have a place to fit into if you don't want to Support The Troops and you think all troops should be turned into humanitarian aid workers. The kind who Don't rape the locals. Or pick them up on Tinder to enact scenes From their favorite savior/captive porn on.
I told a friend that I hate the internet. That for a short time it connected us because it showed us that there were things going on and that our friends would be there. Now it pretty much doesn't. People don't want to be tracked instead. People are filled with fear instead. We may have condescended about Obama because he could do almost none of the things he promised us he would but we were out and we were confident. And we were not as afraid.
The Orange Menace has shown that we need real leaders in our own communities. That celebrities have just as many hours a week to solve problems as we do. And that our problems are our own and do not belong to old men sitting on clouds in the sky. They can no more point their fingers at us and fix the world than they could when they were Greek.
Love,
Jackie Lane
Jackie Lane
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