All These Things That I've Done

I think I am dying. I am not trying to be dramatic or anything. This is not one of my crying blogs. I just don't understand how every night I come home with so much to say. My thoughts are racing faster than my fingers. And it usually happens on the way home from work. Once in a while I will write a blog at work but usually while at work I plan to take the night off and do something 'fun.' I don't know what fun means anymore since all of my pleasures have been taken from me. I can't read a book, voracious reader that I am. I can't watch tv and I can't watch a movie. I can't go out drinking. And eating lately has even lost its lustre. But still, in my head I am always planning to do one of those things when I get home. And it isn't only because there is nothing pressing on my mind, it's to take advantage of the fact that there is nothing pressing on my mind. It's to be kind to myself, take care of myself, treat myself, fill myself with the pleasures of life I have always wanted more of.

So tonight I am in yoga, doing my thing. I went in on a high because I got a beautiful email from Katri and I knew that email would permeate my class and empower my practice and I'd walk out of there higher than when I walked in. Then in pose 16 I realized what was happening. I am dying. And that is why I need to write everything down. I have always been a prolific writer. I have kept a journal since the age of 8. But not like this. And I never had the need to share. And my compulsion to get it all down has never been so strong. And there has been such weird stuff happening lately. A lot of the loose ends in my life have been tied. One of them was my email from Katri, a friend I have missed for about 10 or more years.

I have had three bouts of really hard times. Yet, it has never been like this for me before.

When I was 19 I was raped and I had two abortions. Around that time Mobb Deep had this song out, Shook Ones Part 2, and there is this line, "I'm only 19 and my mind is old." That line replayed itself in my mind over and over again. My mind was old. I was dead on the inside for years; I didn't talk to anyone about this stuff. I didn't have the words. I think it took until second year of law school before I started to come back to life and grow again.

Things were 'normal' for awhile. I ran my six marathons. I got my JD. I had some boyfriends. I had some sex. I read some amazing, life-changing books. I had some awesome all-night, life-planning conversations. I did some drugs. I passed the bar the first time. I moved to Brooklyn with two old friends in April of 2002 at 25.

I met Illinois the day after I was admitted to the New York State Bar, November 19, 2002. I was 26 years old. He and I moved in together after dating for 6 months in May of 2003. Flashforward to my birthday in 2004 where he made a beautiful dinner for me with all of my closest friends and we announced that I was pregnant. My 28th birthday was so beautiful it almost rivals my 30th. After we made our announcement, Illinois brought out individual little cakes all with candles on them and passed them around and asked everyone to, "please make a wish for Briana." The next week he proposed. I said yes. In the next six weeks, my entire world fell to pieces. I lost one baby the same day I found out I was pregnant with twins after spending 7 hours in the emergency room. Then I lost the second baby a week or two later after being on bedrest all alone while Illinois played golf and watched the play-offs at the bar with his friends. Then he told me he couldn't be in something so serious. I had many theme songs for that one. Runaway Train by Soul Asylum, "So tired but I couldn't even sleep, so many secrets I couldn't keep. How on earth did I get so jaded. Life's mysteries seem so faded. I know what no one else can know. I've seen what no one else sees." Otherwise I did what I had never contemplated before. I started seeing a therapist; I knew professional help was the only answer. I was in way over my head and drowning fast. I reached for K. like a buoy. Because again, I didn't have the words to say to those close to me; I didn't know the words to say to myself. My life was different from everyone else's and different from the only one I had ever known. I didn't have the tools or the vocabulary to survive this new life. And I didn't want to be dead inside for years like I had been after 19. Instinctively I knew that I was in even deeper this time and the trauma would kill me.

Here I am now. 30-years old. Going through another rough time. And I am blogging like it's my job. I need to be known. I hate to think that I could die and no one really ever knew me. I hate to think that I never shared myself and I never knew myself. Who will get my new platinum necklace my parents just bought me for my birthday? Will my brother get it or will my sister get it? Which of my angels will keep 'fearless?"

As harrowing as this experience has been, the loose ends thing has been too creepy. In the past few months there have been too many. My fling with 31 that had only been in the works since we met when I was 21; Seeing the OC a few weeks ago; Having brunch with Jdell, Brooklyn's best friend and meeting his new baby; seeing him as an adult with a wife and child. I got closure and made peace with JE. I saw LG. Finally moving into my own place, a lifelong dream. Finally owning what I want to do with my life and starting to pursue it, Finally. Then today and that fantastic email from Katri. And my birthday felt like heaven, like I was actually in heaven because that night is my vision of heaven. Am I preparing myself or is some entity preparing me. Everything is falling in to place too perfectly. It's eery. I can't think of another explanation. Why is everything coming together just as its coming apart?