Esther Tela Free speaks

You woke me up

Coldplay, Modular Synthesizers and A Return to the Road

That about describes the past few months.

I’ve found freedom I didn’t know I needed or wanted. I’ve returned to my computer, reading, writing and music. I’ve even purchased a guitar in a special color and learned how to play guitar; taught by someone who would turn into a good friend. I’ve faced my ex-husband in court having to testify as to why I needed a restraining order. That was hard. But I did it.. I survived panic attacks, some sort of amnesia, an empty oil tank and a tablet that seemed to have a life of it’s own.

I left a husband that had been not a good influence in my life. I can’t really say more then that as I am heading to court to face him in a few weeks. I actually ahve to sit down this weekend and go through the paperwork of our marriage that fell apart in March. In my mind it actually started to fall apart on New Years Eve. We got into what was really honestly one of the worst fights. And it was something that scared me too. It seemed like he was not comprehending the words that were coming out of my mouth.

This degenerated for the following months all coming to a head on March 18th.

I was trying my best to apply for a job that I really wanted. My health was way better. I was driving myself everywhere and even volunteered somewhere to see if physically I could handle being somewhere for a set of hours not knowing what my pain would feel like. The job required me to teach myself some computer skills. Something I can sometimes do if it’s not too technically challenging. I used to help run a torrent hub and loved the computer work. This job was kind of a dream job. On the computer. I could live anywhere. It was with music. My number one love. And customer service which is one thing I have a lot of experience with. I don’t know why I threw myself into learning a bunch of programs, I just needed to and ended up being awake a lot of the time in a 3 day span. The job, it was the catalyst. Along with the laugh that began the end of the end. I was doing it to keep him alive as the new politicians wanted to take away the help we received that kept his heart monitored. See he has CHF and had a cardiac arrest and died in my arms on the kitchen floor. But that’s for another post.

He began to badger me about explaining what the programs did. I was so amped, and had such a lack of sleep, and am still recovering from MOF, I couldn’t do more the a rudimentary explanation that did not meet his approval and he began to try and convince me that I was making things up.

Come to find out he had left me with large debts.

He had the bank card. That’s all I knew. I knew I needed to get it from him. I had no money. I had just had to lie to him to get 5 bucks. It may have even been 10. It was another chip in the wall of our marriage. I walked in the bedroom and tried to retrieve it. It was my bank card, he didn’t have one at the time.

As soon as I found myself out of the house. I went to where I felt safe with George, the pitbull I loved, and called a friend for help. She invited me over to the house, and I took my bag, and the dog and took a rest. I may have taken a shower, the details are quite fuzzy. I just knew I needed to get to the coast. Away. Something was drawing me there. Something I will never understand but it wasn’t something like a voice, or a person, it was just a feeling that would eventually guide me to safety and freedom. I got some cash. I made a hotel reservation and took off for the coast.

I ended up in the wrong city. At the wrong motel.

Many things happened that I will never explain in a public setting but some of you out there know what;s  up.

He convinced me to go back home with him and the memory of racing down the coast mountain range, seeing the clear cuts. I knew deep inside that this wasn’t right. I had ordered a new bankcard and he took that too. I finally got myself to the courthouse and got a restraining order. But he was at the house when I returned and wouldn’t leave. I ran to the nearest store, and since my phone had disappeared, I asked someone with a cell phone outside to call 911. I had no food. I had some money I can’t remember where I Got it, and I had to get back to the house in a few days to try and retrieve the newest bankcard that was on the way. It didn’t really matter though, as he had drained the account by that point. I may have had 20 in there? On top of that, the oil in the car had mysteriously dropped to the point that the red light came on while driving. I was petrified to take it very far. I found myself in the hospital recovering from a panic attack at the store. I was helped to safety in a motel room to await the cops serving him with the restraining order I had won. I was scared of him. He had never put his hands on me before and I had always told him if he did it was over. He was the third man to put his hands on me. The one before him fled because I pressed charges. I spent 3 days holed up in a hotel room with no cell phone, a really inexpensive tablet that would play my radiohead pandora station that seemed to comfort me the most. I watched KOIN and Price is Right. And they helped me pass the hours. I was afraid to leave the motel property and the only food I could afford was the vending machine in the lobby. I drank a lot of V-8 for the first time in my life as I knew I needed the nutrition. I’ve been trying to eat healthier as one of the changes I’m trying to make in the wake of the implosion of my marriage.


October 10, 2017 Posted by | Uncategorized | Leave a comment

All these things that I have done

Its hard to look back and see the progress when you are in the midst of a change.

April 29, 2016 I was taken to the Adventist hospital in the midst of liver, kidney and respiratory failure. They couldn’t take me which I find really ironic when I pass their billboards that tout how wonderful their ER is. Instead I ended up at Kaiser in Clackamas county. I should have stayed in Portland, and I will regret the fact that I had no say in my treatment or where I was taken and that once again my ex-husaband made a decision that will have repurcussions to my dying day.

That isn’t the focus of this post though. The focus of this post is to remind myself how far I’ve come from then. See, when I was taken into the hospital I weighed 335 pounds. All my life I had been called fat. People would yell ‘fat ass’ out the window of their car when I would walk down the street.. On the phish (that band from vermont that some of you might know) newsgroup (newsgroups were the precursor to Facebook groups I suppose). But the difference is there was absolutely no moderation what-so-ever. It was the wild wild west of communities and I was a pretty well – known poster as I had either a job where I could be online all day, or I wasn’t working so I spent almost all day, every day online posting about Phish. I somehow gained a troll (i would find out later that it was a large group of people acting as one signle troll) who would write stories about me eating people. And make fun of the fact that my health had deteriorated into me needing a wheelchair just to go to a live music concert. The bullying continued into my 30s until I eventually had to leave that internet community that I had thought was accepting of all people but would actually be one of the most creul and unforgiving communities I’ve ever encountered on the internet and I’ve been part of an online community or two, or three for over 22 years now.

I digress.

Now, I’m 100 lbs down. Yup. I’m outing my weight on the internet. I weigh 235 pounds. And I wear a size 12 in some clothes and in others I wear a 3x depending on the manufacturer of the item. How on earth is anyone supposed to feel normal wearing such an array of different sizes? Epecially in a society that places so much value on that damn number. How is anyone who is self-conscious in any way supposed to live with themselves and their weight when our clothing manufacturers won’t even give us a regular size. Now guys clothing is measured in inches. You know the waist size. You know the length and that is the way it is no matter who makes the clothes. Talk about a punch to the face. To me it seems as just another way to control us.

I digress again.

I decided a few months ago to let someone move in as a roommate. I let him stay for free for a few months. I wanted to see how we got along. I wanted to open myself up to a new person. Well that fell apart the other day. I no longer felt safe with him in the house and had to run. I had to walk down the block, call for a Lyft and go pick up my car that had been impounded when I suffered multiple anxiety attacks and memory issues relating to the PTSD and anxiety that I can now trace back to my early childhood. That brings me to mom. A mom Who decided to tell me that because i pushed away this roommate, that meant I had no friends. Never mind the 15 messages on messenger that I recieved when I let people know I had to create a whole new fb profile. It’s amazing what the internet does to people. For people like me, it can destroy them with just one sentence. For others, like zev for one, or Bee for another, and even darryl yes, I know you are all behind things. I know there are others involved too, but that won’t last forever. Karma is a real thing. A very. real. thing. And you’d better get ready to face YOUR demons because I’m facing mine right now, every single day when I wake up and I hurt. When I sit for 15 minutes and can barely move after that 15 minutes because the stiffness is so bad.

I have digressed again.

Honestly I guess I’ve lost focus on what this entry was supposed to be about. I guess it’s about freedom. The freedom to be who I want without my mom telling me that I have no friends. When I disappeared a few weeks ago due to some circumstances almost completely out of my own control, I was found with one shoe and sock and a bare foot on the corner of Division Street. The police found me, put me in an AMR ambulance (mind you this is the 2nd or 3rd time these wonderful folks have, oh wait, it may even be the 4th time that they have come to my rescue when it’s been a life-threatening situation). See, I suffer from, wait again, I don’t like to use the word suffer. I have anxiety (and PTSD) and Im despartaley trying to control it without relying on medications.

There we go. It’s out now. I have PTSD from an alcoholic father and a controlling mother who wants nothing but to dangle my strings in life like the puppets in a kids theater. It’s from the bullying that began in 3rd grade that continues to this day when I went to the Coldplay concert and I realized that SOMEHOW, some of these people KNEW that popcorn was a trigger. Somehow they KNEW the things that triggered me to have a panic attack. I may never know how that was the case. I will just continue to look down at the love button that some of you may have recieved if you were at that Concert. From what I have been able to glean, not everyone got one of those buttons.

She told me this morning, after I had called her to let her know I was safe. She told me I hard pushed away the only friends I had. Because I didn’t let this man, a person I did NOT feel comfortable with, stay living in my home. She didn’t believe me that I had been able to procure my car from the impound lot. She just sounded pissed. After being missing for a few days, maybe even a week total, Then reappearing. Then disappearing again, she was pissed. WTF mom. What. Is. Wrong. With. You. You didn’t teach me how to handle my emotions. You came from the school of push those emotions deep deep inside and dont let anyone see you cry. Not ever. There’s no crying in baseball afterall.

Needless to say, this posting has jumped all over the place. I started it because I’m going to try and lose another 50 lbs and today I downloaded an app to keep track of my calories. That’s how I lost the first 100 lbs. I found out how many calories I burn at the weight I’m at and then I ate less. I didn’t even excersize. I am doing bother now. It’s different now though because I have a goal. I want to tour with a band. I want to find a band that will take me on to help them in some way. Whether it’s to drive the van, or even just make some home cooked food while at the hotel. It may be a pipe dream, but it’s my dream. And i’m going to keep fighting to make that dream come true.

I started watching a youtube red documentary about Lindsay Sterling tonight. The dancing violinist. I had never heard of her before, well at least not that I can remember and she is someone that I admire greatly. She is fighting a food issue just as much as I am fighting one. (She’s also facing the death of her father which is something I dealt with at the age of 21) I have a tendency to eat my feelings. When I’m sad, I want pizza. When I’m happy, I want pizza. I would eat pizza for every meal of the day if I could. And trust me, I have before, for months at a time. That was how I got up to 335 pounds. I was stuck in a loveless marriage that had died right around the day before our wedding in 2004. Don’t get me wrong. We had grand times. But I had followed in my mother’s footsteps and found myself in an abusive relationship. I can’t go in depth into that part of my life until the divorce is final. I will get into that one day though. So keep an eye out on the blog. I finally got out of the marriage a few months ago and the moment I recieved that restraining order my life began down a path that I am happy to say is probably some of the best times I’ve ever had. I have hope that the next few days will cement a future. A future that I have been dreaming of. Some of that will require hard work. I used to walk almost every night. But I slacked off. Gained some weight and today I put myself back on that path to getting healthier. I really do love green beans! I really do love tofu. OMG a tofu scramble? Yes please! Scrambled cheesy eggs? Yup. Throw me that protein. I’ll eat it.

“it’s time” as the announcer before an MMA fight would say. It’s time for me to start the rest of my life. And I hope that includes you” I may have even prayed that it would include you.

Oh I forgot to mention one thing. I exist in pain. Chronic pain. It hits when I least expect it. No one’s ever been able to tell my why. I just have come to accept it. After 14+ years of controlling it with opiates, I have moved forward to handling it with alternative treatments. Yoga. A TENS unit. Just plain ole fashioned grit and determination. So if you know who I am, and see me walking down the street on your neighborhood (sometimes its a button that says I heart nerds, sometimes its a button with a smiley face and a bleeding head wound and sometimes it’s a “love” button) remember that what you do, in those moments when you pass a stranger can sometimes last a lifetime. That person who yelled ‘fat ass’ out the window at me in Birmingham, Michigan has permanently damaged me and I’m betting he is proud of that. I have faith though that Karma will bring everything into balance.

Change. The only thing that’s constant in life and in reality and I’m in the midst of a big one. Watch out world. This wily fox is on the hunt, on the prowl and is ready to take on the world. And I will gosh darnit. I will.

October 10, 2017 Posted by | abuse, anxiety, Changes, Dreams, Internship, Memories, MOF, mom, pain, phish, reality, RMP, sickness | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment