[This is a back post. From April after Rock ‘n’ Roll Madrid. We’re getting through!]
That post doesn’t make all *that* much sense. But I wasn’t totally sure what to call it. But Europe is a tiny piece of extra hope.
In Portugal, I just took adventure as it came! I just went out sightseeing. Weirdly, sightseeing has been something really super hard me. I just – I dunno. It’s easier to be alone at home. And it’s scary and overwhelming to be out.
But I don’t know if it’s because it’s just a *total* new experience, so I’m on sensory overload; or if it’s because I don’t know anyone, so I don’t have to be worried about anyone seeing me and not thinking I’m as “fun” as old Aurora or whatever; or what. But Europe just felt like “let’s go. I’m in it.”
I was definitely more present than I’ve been before, and that felt amazing.
Even after the race in Madrid, when I got a massage – I could feel the person touching me. And I don’t know if that makes any sense. And I don’t in any way mean in a sexual way. I just like – could feel – a human touch… like sometimes I’ve been so numb and not here, it’s like people touch me and like I can’t even comprehend I have a body or nerves or whatever.
But I *felt* the hands of another human being…
So, I still have some issues and stuff. And I kinda don’t want my whole freaking blog to become about “how I’m doooooing,” but you know, this project is all about coming back from sexual assault. And I saw a little glimmer of hope. *ping pong bling sound effect with a cute a visual flash*