tricky to articulate
trigger warning: brief mention of rape
This one is hard to write - in part because the point I’m trying to make isn’t super clear. So I’ll lead with an anecdote from today, then explore that a little more in the hopes it generates some sense.
It’s roughly 8:30, the sun is bright and the light that early morning shade of blue. The roads are empty, and I’ve just turned onto a newly tarmac-ed stretched of road, so my tyres make a smooth but slightly unsettling sound. One ear is plugged with an earbud, the other is free to absorb the sound of the birds and breeze. Through the earbud plays This American Life, an episode specifically about “Jane Doe” - a woman interning at Idaho state legislature who was raped, and the first person to experience their thoughtlessly constructed reporting protocol.
Her story isn’t particularly similar to mine. She worked with the perpetrator, he was much older, she initially chose not to involve police. One detail that remained vivid to her was the colour of her perpetrators curtains, where her eyes focused as she was raped. This struck me, since a vivid part of what I remember is the colour of his bed sheets, what my eyes focused on. I don’t know this woman, and our lives are vastly different. But something about our shared focus on pretty meaningless fabrics while stripped of autonomy felt overwhelmingly connected, perhaps just because it’s a small detail in a sea of overwhelming details.
And so as I listened and cycled, my mind jumped between her story, my surroundings, and my own visceral memories. Unlike before, I wasn’t overcome with panic or fear. I could breathe, stay present, and observe my experience and connected feelings, albeit with some tears. And I think that’s okay.
Part of this trip seems to be seeing how many different ways feeling weak and strong can coexist. Pushing up hills while my legs feel like jelly, reaching accommodation and finding it closed, cycling 100 miles after a morning of tears.
We all know the body and mind are connected, but I didn’t expect them to be so endlessly entwined. A strong mind can compensate when my body is tired, and while my mind is grappling with hard memories my body is able to keep me moving forward. When they’re both in a good state it’s phenomenal. When they’re both in a bad state, I’ve got to draw on strength from others - whether that’s talking, texting, or just remembering. But when something feels weak, there’s a degree of compensation somewhere - be that from body, mind, or relationships.
I suppose this ramble aims to share the following:
1. Details of trauma can be very different in their content, but shared responses and emotions make them feel connected - however you respond, you aren’t alone :)
2. Weakness and strength coexist, and that’s pretty cool and liberating
3. This trip is hard in ways I didn’t expect, and it’s tricky to articulate why because it’s a bundle of mental and physical challenges with few boundaries between the two
On a more lighthearted note, I’ll chat about how a manage to munch enough to cover so many miles next time :)
