My Cinderella Story...and not the Glass Slipper Kind.

            Once upon a time, about seven years ago, I attended a concert with people I knew from a former job.  Envision it.  Poison and Cinderella, and I was STOKED to see Cinderella.  I am not a fan of Poison, so ‘meh’ on that one…but Cinderella…Oh lordy…yes please.  Give me some Tom Keifer ANY day and I will be overjoyed.

            Where does the crux of the story come into my story, you ask?  Let me tell you.

            Right now I am asking you to envision a Winnebago.  (RV for those not well versed in brands.)  There are at least 10 people in this mammoth vehicle not including the driver.  The driver and I are the only ones sober upon entrance of the vehicle at around 3 p.m. in the afternoon on this fine Saturday.  Not sure if any of you have experienced what an utter treat it is to be the only sober person surrounded by people that are shit-faced, but I can tell you this was no trip to Fantasy Island.  I had one person there that I enjoyed being around, but still…when everyone else is tripping the light fantastic with booze and I am there with my can of Coke.  Just ‘ugh’ sums it up.

            So, as we are traveling the two hours to arrive at our destination, I start to develop a headache, which I attributed to the mayhem that was occurring with the Winnebago.  I couldn’t have been more incorrect.  We arrive at Mankato MN, the destination for the concert…we grab a bite to eat…we go to the show.  Now mind you, I am not one to bring my purse into a concert normally.  I rarely even carry a purse these days at all.  I just don’t like to be encumbered with a bag of crap when I am trying to ROCK.  So, that said, I stuffed my money and ticket into my pocket and off I went.  All of us were sitting in different locations within the building.  My friend and I were on the floor up close.  I admittedly was a little giddy.  I have a massive crush on Tom Keifer and I will not lie about it.  Once we get to our seats, I feel a twinge…a cramp…and a gusher.  That’s right…I have my period.  Two weeks early as a matter of fact.  I rush off to the bathroom to find the temple of the tampons. 

            The first bathroom I went in, the vending machine was empty.  “Oh whatever,“ I say to myself.  “This arena is huge, they will have one somewhere.”  Meanwhile, my headache turns into an all encompassing demon.  Second bathroom, NOTHING.  Third bathroom, NOTHING.  There is NO damn tampons, OR God forbid, even some tug-boat sized maxi pad ANYWHERE in the building.  I ask the people that work in the arena…they even check the staff bathrooms and have nothing.  At this point, I am DESPERATE.  I don’t want to bleed through my bloomers.  I am a pissy bitch now as well, oh joy.  We all can assume why I am this way given my estrogen rush.  I begin to BEG every woman I see for a tampon.  C’mon ladies, we sisters HAVE to stick together.  (I might add, by this time Cinderella is HALF OVER.)  I FINALLY find a kind-hearted t-shirt vendor willing to check her purse for a tampon.  The only one she has was one that was not wrapped in the plastic; it was covered in make-up dust, purse debris and smelled like peppermint gum.  I didn’t care.  In fact, at this juncture I wouldn’t have cared if it gave me gonorrhea.  I just needed to stop the hemorrhage.  Anywho…I tamponed myself and went to enjoy the show.  I got to hear TWO Cinderella songs.  TWO.  Then I proceed to endure Poison…how fitting the name of the band was what I wanted to do to myself to rid me of all of agony experienced thus far in my evening.

            I survive hearing Bret Michaels sing, which to me is some sort of miracle.  “God is good!”  We all aboard the Winnebago, where I eagerly anticipate an incredibly compelling two hours worth of drunken havoc; I mean how could it NOT be, they were drunk before…they will be drunker after.  (Is drunker a word?  Right now, I couldn’t care less.)  We begin our pilgrimage back home.  Across from me, there sits a certain someone.  A gentleman that is quite large.  We are facing each other in the seats.  He is passed out from boozery.  (Yes, I do what I want with words…)  The sound being emitted from him is something akin to a death rattle.  He is drooling, with mouth agape.  He is wearing short shorts, with Ted Hose (diabetic socks that go to the knees) with tube socks over those, with sandals.  He is wearing a translucent white ‘muscle shirt’ that is incredibly tight…barely fitting over the 20 months pregnant belly.  As we roll along the dark highway, I am enthralled with the vision I behold in front of me.  I begin to ponder life.  I begin to question why I was made.  Why am I here?  What purpose did this trip serve?  What can I learn, other than to bring tampons with me at all times?  I NEED Advil.  Satan is ripping out my uterus, and I have a headache.  I hope that the one scurvy tampon I have in me will suffice until we get home.  I keep staring at the man across from me….as if I am watching people being pulled from the wreckage of a train accident.  The rumble of curdled throat aspirations coming from his wide mouth…saliva puddles form on his shoulder.  As we move onward…his shirt begins to roll up, exposing a bit of belly.  It rolls up further…and further…and further…until like someone releasing their hand from a window shade, it explodes with FURY over the top of his bulbous belly.  His gargantuan stomach exposed in full, his belly button was the size of a cup holder and his shirt was now firmly rolled underneath his D-cups.  Despite what you may think, I still kept looking.  The horrifying scene unfurling before my eyes was still NOT TOO MUCH to bear as my evening kept progressively getting worse and worse.  I mean, why NOT test this out, and see how far it is going to go.  Can’t be much more that could happen to cap my evening off, right?

            WRONG.  Wrongo, bucko.  We passed underneath a highway light…I cast my gaze downward toward my riding partner across from me.  His legs are now spread full bore, like he is going to get a gyno exam.  I see something.  No, really.  I saw it.  IT.  I saw IT.  His balls.  “NO!!!!” I think to myself.  I did NOT just see this dude’s balls.  We keep on toolin’ down the highway…we pass underneath another light and I double check to make sure I saw it right.  You betcha I did.  The whole works was situated outside of the short shorts.  The entire working unit of this man’s genital system was on display.  Before I briskly turn away, I do one more survey of the landscape of which I had been gazing upon…you know…just savor it, take it all in.  Soak it up like the ray of sunshine which it was.  Damn…life is amazing!  I turned away and thought of ways to die quickly on the way home and prayed that if it didn’t happen, that there would be some way out there of washing my mind clean of what happened.  Nope.  Still remember.  Now YOU do too!  Muahahahaha!!  My work here is done.

            HUGS and SUCH!!  ~L By the way, some of you MAY know the man of which I speak…but you can’t tell.  ;)

Embracing the Darkness

I was worried that when I started this that perhaps I would feel the need to censor what I say.  That happened.  Sorry about that.  I have written things, then second and third guessed them wondering if people were going to judge what I say.  Wondering if people were going to think it was “THEM,” that I was talking about.  I am working past that, so please be patient with me.

                It seems that this might be the year for me to make some huge changes.  I have reconciled many things in my life and it is weird…I feel like a HUGE cloud has been lifted from me.  There is still plenty of room for growth, but right now I am relishing the fact that I have made it this far.  I am finally becoming the person I need to be.  The struggles have taught me something.  I hope that I have learned great and valuable lessons.  I hope I can help others.  With that said, I want to keep going with this and talk about things as frankly as possible.  It is my mission to help others find their voice, speak their truth and to overcome fear.   So continue onward I must, even if that means that I say things that make people uncomfortable.  Mixed in with funny things of course, because that is who I am and what I am about.

 Even now I look back and I feel that I can see the humor in things that have happened to me in this life.  Obviously SOME things I cannot, but I can see that I have learned lessons and for that I am blessed.  Those trials have shaped me into the person that I am.  Personally, I like the gal I have become.  I even like the gal that did all of the struggling.  I like the gal that did some embarrassing things, some things that others would see as shameful.  I like her.  I love her.  She is me.  I always had reasons of doing what I was doing.  Some of those reasons were valid in my mind; some of those reasons were because I was searching so desperately to put the pieces together of my life.  I was trying to understand.  I was desperately trying to fill in gaps of my childhood.  I needed to figure out WHY.  Damn, there were times of my life that were so overwhelmingly lonely that I would NEVER want to return there.  I tried to fill those gaps with people.  I tried to surround myself with people when I was alone.  The more people around me, the more I felt like it was filling in those desperately hollow voids I had within myself.  Sometimes it was in the form of being the party girl. 

Right now the song “Chandelier” by Sia moves me in a way that is remarkable.  I hear it, and it is like I am reliving my former life.  The song literally chills me to the bone.  Take a look:

Lyrics for Chandelier by Sia

o    Party girls don't get hurt

Can't feel anything, when will I learn

I push it down, push it down

o    I'm the one "for a good time call"

Phone's blowin' up, they're ringin' my doorbell

I feel the love, feel the love

o    1, 2, 3 1, 2, 3 drink

1, 2, 3 1, 2, 3 drink

1, 2, 3 1, 2, 3 drink

o    Throw em back, till I lose count

o    I'm gonna swing from the chandelier, from the chandelier

I'm gonna live like tomorrow doesn't exist

Like it doesn't exist

I'm gonna fly like a bird through the night, feel my tears as they dry

I'm gonna swing from the chandelier, from the chandelier

o    And I'm holding on for dear life, won't look down won't open my eyes

Keep my glass full until morning light, 'cause I'm just holding on for tonight

Help me, I'm holding on for dear life, won't look down won't open my eyes

Keep my glass full until morning light, 'cause I'm just holding on for tonight

On for tonight

o    Sun is up, I'm a mess

Gotta get out now, gotta run from this

Here comes the shame, here comes the shame

o    1, 2, 3 1, 2, 3 drink

1, 2, 3 1, 2, 3 drink

1, 2, 3 1, 2, 3 drink

o    Throw em back till I lose count

o    I'm gonna swing from the chandelier, from the chandelier

I'm gonna live like tomorrow doesn't exist

Like it doesn't exist

I'm gonna fly like a bird through the night, feel my tears as they dry

I'm gonna swing from the chandelier, from the chandelier

o    And I'm holding on for dear life, won't look down won't open my eyes

Keep my glass full until morning light, 'cause I'm just holding on for tonight

Help me, I'm holding on for dear life, won't look down won't open my eyes

Keep my glass full until morning light, 'cause I'm just holding on for tonight

On for tonight, on for tonight

As I'm just holding on for tonight

No I'm just holding on for tonight

On for tonight, on for tonight

As I'm just holding on for tonight

As I'm just holding on for tonight

No I'm just holding on for tonight

On for tonight, on for tonight…

 

 

The brutal truth is I was so intensely hurting I was scared to be alone.  I would drink on the weekends when my son was not with me.  Drink and do things that filled the void.  I wanted so badly to escape from the desolate feelings that I had inside of me.  I was reckless, carless, and extremely impulsive.  I didn’t care about ME.  I cared about making the feelings I was experiencing go away.  I had become a master at this, from the time I was a child.  Just make it go away.  If I used my imagination enough, I could turn my real life into a fantasy world.  It is how I survived my childhood.  My childhood is what made me run from my feelings.  All things come full circle.  I was an escape artist.  I lived a dual life.  I am not ashamed to talk about this, because it is how I have survived.  I am STILL ALIVE because of the tools of my mind being able to assist me.  I would NOT have been here to become a parent and see my beautiful son grow up.  I would not be here to rescue dogs.  I would not be here to help anyone else see past their walls and reach out to get the help they need.  I would be dead.  This I know. 

I won’t discuss HOW or WHY right at this juncture as to the details of my childhood.  However, we all have crosses we must bear.  Mine was heavy, dark and disgusting.  I carried with me too long.  I allowed my cross to convince me that I was unworthy of love and respect.   Apparently I had also signed up for the free t-shirt and membership into the repeated victim club.  All the dredges of humanity could apparently inherently see that I was a card carrying member, yet I was unaware of this status.  These fellows (and sometimes even some blood-sucking ladies) latched onto me like leeches.  They would steal my energy, they would steal my pride, and they would steal my autonomy time and time again.  It came in the form of physical abuse, emotional abuse and sexual abuse; it was not pretty to live that part-time life as an adult.  When my son was with me, I had it together miraculously.  When he was gone, all hell broke loose.  Even a year ago, I would say I was embarrassed of how things went down for me.  I would have HID that side of me at all costs.  Who wants people to know they were doing things that others would consider shameful?  Who wants people to know that their life was out of control?  I know that I didn’t want people to know THEN.  Once I was past that point in my life, I wanted nothing more than to pretend (yet again) that it didn’t happen.  

                In hindsight, one of the BEST things that could have ever happened to me was I believe in God (or the Universe’s) hands.  I normally do not like to infer that God has a hand in causing what appeared to me at the time, destruction.  However, I believe that is what occurred.  It was like a parent showing their child tough love.  I needed consequences to snap me out of the lies I had told myself since I was a little girl.  Honestly, it all HAD to unfold in the way that did.  I truly believe that.  In order to wake me up, it had to follow a pattern of slow and steady.  It started by first building me up.  After many years of thinking I needed to find the “perfect love” I finally stumbled upon what I believe WAS that person.  It was the dawn of 2009.  I had fallen madly in love.  This love was like nothing else I had experienced until that point.  It shook me to the core.  I realized that I didn’t need to drink and party.  I felt like that utter inconsolable ache was now whole.  Although that fell apart, I hung onto it.  I literally believed for YEARS that I would get back together with him.  Probably because he kept me dangling on the side, kept me believing, telling me there was hope and keeping the carrot hanging just slightly outside of my reach.  I could be angry about that, but it was all part of what I needed.  With the focus of believing that I would get back together with him, it allowed me to NOT focus on the search for the perfect man.

The next phase of my demise leading to my re-birth was the loss of everything I had left with the exception of the most important elements; my son and my dogs.  I literally lost everything, including my pride.  I thought that my value had to do with how much money I could make.  God promptly swept me clean.  The job that I had started in Minnesota did not pan out.  My father began the process of dying.  My house would not sell.  I quit the job in haste, but could not find another right away.  I filed bankruptcy, lost my car had my house foreclosed.  My dad died and my health hit rock bottom.  I needed a place to live with my son.  (Thank God I was able to find someone kind enough to take in three dogs and two humans.)  To say that I was sucking mud from the bottom of the barrel would have been correct.  I could NOT have felt any lower about myself.  WHY me?  Why this?  Why did I LOSE all of my possessions I worked so hard for?  Why am I so sick?  Why did I gain all of this weight?  Here again, I may be potentially criticized for offering this explanation, but I believe I know why.

I had everything stripped from me to learn how to find myself again.  I had to do it the hard way.  As I said, I had woven such an amazing tale of untruths about myself just to survive my life.  I had to peel the onion back layer by layer.  I have had to face ALL of my demons in the last few years one by one.  I have had to shake piercing hand after piercing hand over and over again until I could see the light.  Every convulsive nasty nightmare that I have lived through in this lifetime came back to me, to haunt me until I could come to terms with reality.  In the last few months I have had to digest some bitter awfulness.  You all have walked with me during that process.  My illness coupled with the psychological trauma of PTSD was overwhelming me.  I thank you for being there for me.  Those who have stood by me without criticism have been my miracles here on earth.  God has truly provided me with an amazing support system.  I am thankful.  This life has been a wicked roller coaster ride for me.  My stories could truly be made into a movie.  I have had such laughs and fun, but it has always been coupled with a brutal harsh evil that was hidden.  I am no longer there.  I can confidently say I have come through the other side. 

The darkness is lifting from me slowly but surely.  Day by day I see more bright light coming in and entering my heart.  The truth of my life was revealed to me.  Although it was not pretty, my mind had spared me the heartbreaking revelation until I was ready to deal with it and see it clearly.  I could not deal with it and see it clearly until I had stripped away the entire fantasy world I had built to protect myself FROM the truth.  I needed one thing happening at a time to make me realize that I do not HATE the people that hurt me.  I needed to build my faith further than it already was.  (Without God, I would not have survived at all…I truly believe that fact.)  Without my faith, I would be dead.  In fact, finding the truth about my life even now would have been too much to bear without God/my Universal faith.  I may not have survived the memories.  However I DID survive.  I am surviving.  I am alive.  I can move on.  I have control over my life.  I am getting back in shape; I am taking care of my body.  I LOVE myself.  This is the first time I have been able to say that.  I love myself for just being me.  I feel like a kick-ass ninja.  I am a warrior. 

I know that this is writing is now the size of the Uni-bomber’s manifesto.  I hope that you could make some sense out of it.  I needed to get this out of the way, so I could go on and write more about all of the things.  By all of the things I mean funny things…the silly things…the icky things…the evil things.  Those elements are what make us human.  Sharing them makes our voices powerful.  Our crosses we all must bear become lighter when we are honest about our frailty.  We are beautiful and strong.  We were put here on earth to shine light and love.  First we must shed our skins.  We need to take off the masks.  We need to tear down the walls.  We need to be real.  I love you all.  Shout your truth.  ~L

           

Chicken Pot Pie Guy

                Sorry I didn’t write for the last couple days, I have not felt the best, and I have vowed to take care of myself a little better this year when I need some down-time.  I did write a gem for you today however.  Here you go!

Once I was asked out on a dinner date by a fellow who by all accounts was totally different than most guys I dated.  You ask, “Lori, what was your type?”  Well, I shall sum that up as briefly as possible.  My type has generally been anyone that is artsy, musiciany, open-mindedish and such.  (Any of those CAN and will be words.)  As for looks, that has really been irrelevant…mind connections have been the biggest factor in my attraction to people always.  So anyway, back to the fellow at hand.  This guy was an investment banker.  He was wearing a suit when I met him.  He had that air of uptightedness that was slightly uncomfortable for everyone around him.  He was like a rubber band that was pulled way too tight.  You just had that underlying sense that at any given point he was gonna snapperoo, and go cookoo. 

                Right now, you are probably wondering to yourself,”WHY did you go out on a date with this fellow, Lori?”  I figured that you would ask.  Well, at this time in my life, quite frankly, the other gentlemen suitors I had dated just hadn’t panned out.  I really wanted to be in a relationship at that juncture of my life.  I thought I still had a chance of having children.  The biological clock was “a tickin’ away” and I thought, why not step out of your comfort zone and try a date with someone different.  Opposites attract, right?  Oh yeah, and this guy was also disturbingly persistent. 

                Let’s cut to the chase.  Said fellow asked me out to and I quote “A really nice dinner…you deserve that.”  So, we agreed on the date and time.  I always worked Saturdays, so I dressed to the nines for work.  I had a black skirt on, heels and a nice sweater.  Makeup was done to perfection, and I was ready to go.  He offered to pick me up from work, and I thought that would be lovely.  At the time indicated I left work, and met him outside.  He opened the car door for me, so we were off to a somewhat good start.  I sat down in the car and he said, “Where do you want to go eat?”  Immediately, I was sort of let down.  He told me he was taking me to a REALLY NICE DINNER.  Those generally require reservations…so my hopes were suddenly dashed.  I looked at him and said, “I thought you had this planned out?  I can certainly pick something, but what did you have in mind?”  Right now friends, I want you to activate your imaginations…the next line I want you to say in your best ‘voice’ imitating Ray the Menard’s guy.  (If you don’t know who that is, Google it and watch a video, please.  You will never be the same.)  Also adding a touch of sleazy door to door salesman would add another layer of texture to this next line.  Alright now apply your skills…wait for it….”I am in the mood for CHICKEN POT PIE!!!!!”   (He truly said it in the voice of a game show host.)

                The next sequence of events were from ME…*crickets chirping…*tumbleweeds rolling by*…*slight whistling wind*…OUTBURST of LAUGHTER…I thought this guy was surprisingly HILARIOUS!!  It was quite refreshing.  How neat. 

                “I am NOT joking, “he said.  “I really want chicken pot pie, and the only place that I know of that has it is KFC.”  Now I repeat the above succession of events.  …*crickets chirping…*tumbleweeds rolling by*…*slight whistling wind* this time with no laughter.  I felt a throbbing vein in the side of my temple.  Normally back at this time in my life, I didn’t speak up too much about my opinions.  In fact, I was used to bad dates…however telling me you are taking me to a NICE DINNER and taking me to KFC are two different things.  I looked at him and said.  “NOPE.  No KFC.  I am all dressed up and I am not going to go to KFC and slather grease on my face wearing nice clothes.  We are going someplace decent at the very least, and I will let you pick where that might be, but it is not going to be fast food.”  Alright, I know that might have sounded a little bit mean…but at this point I was thinking really, dude.  You are a haughty taughty suit guy and you wanted me to get all decked out to go to Kentucky Fried Chicken?  I had had better dinner dates in college.  (I.e. one of several guys I screwed up with.)  So, he said “Let’s go to the Prime and Wine.  So we left.  There was little or no conversation in the car on the way there.  We went in, sat down, ordered our food and things seemed more pleasant.  Until I hear what sounds like the dark rumbling of Satan coming from his side of the table.

                He is squirming uncomfortably in his chair, and springs up and leaves.  No explanation.  He is gone ten minutes…fifteen minutes…our food arrives…twenty minutes…I begin eating.  Pretty sure I was ditched.  Thirty minutes pass and I am still at the table, almost done eating my food.  Forty minutes and I am just getting my things together and tell the waitress to bring the bill and he comes back.  He is white as a ghost and clammy looking, kind of imagine a jar of pickled albino salamanders. He sort of looked like refrigerated paste.  He said, I am going to have them box up the food and pay the bill then we can go.  In my head I am thinking “Okaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay….what the heck is going on here?”  We leave, get in the car and he turns the opposite direction to take me back to work.  I say “What are you doing, are you going to take me back?”  Gleefully he exclaims “No dinner date is complete without a drive around Clear Lake.”  Sweet Jesus save me now.  I reluctantly agreed because we were already headed that way.  It is a ten mile drive to Clear Lake, and the drive AROUND the lake itself probably takes a half hour.  I figured I could entertain this notion of his and it wouldn’t be God awful anyway.  I was once again SO wrong.  As we are about ¾ of the way to Clear Lake itself, I begin hearing the sound of what I liken to be a large demon drowning in tar pits.  It is screeching, bubbling, gurgling and crying out for Beelzebub.  I look over at my date and see that he has beads of sweat on his upper lip and forehead.  He said, “Hey, I am going to stop at Kum & Go quick.”  Oh lord…I figured it out.  He has the Hershey squirts, the scoots, the shits and basically is getting the two minute warning!  Now the incident at the restaurant makes sense!!  Holy crap!!  Literally.  So he stops, and this time is in the bathroom at the gas station for twenty minutes.

                He enters the car and we get about a mile down the road.  Once again the mischievous intestinal sprite rears its ugly head and SCREAMS.   Yet again the sound of the babbling brook of diarrhea undulating through his large intestine makes its presence known.  He said “I need to stop at Casey’s quick.”  This time he is gone a half hour in the gas station bathroom.  Mind you, this entire time he has not acknowledged that this is even HAPPENING.  He is trying to play it off like he is okay.  Never once is he mentioning that he is potentially dying from Ebola. The more I sit and wait the more nervous I become that he has the flu.  I am petrified that I am going to get whatever ass destruction virus that HE has simply by being in his presence.  When he comes back to the car I ask if he is feeling alright, and he said “Oh yeah, I must have eaten something that didn’t agree with me.”  “Can you take me back to my car please?” I ask.  “OH we still need to drive around the lake!” he replies.  I am going to end this here, as well I am certain you can imagine the rest of the events.  Three more bathroom stops before I got back to Mason City and the LONGEST time taken to drive around the lake EVER.

 I never went out with him again, just so you know.  However, several years later I saw him working at Hy-Vee bagging groceries.  No lie.  He said to me, “Are you still working at Vision World?”  “Yep, I sure am.” I say.  He laughs at me “Wow…you are going to be a lifer, thought you had some aspirations!”  …*crickets chirping…*tumbleweeds rolling by*…*slight whistling wind* “Dude, just you REALLY just say that?  You are bagging my groceries now.”  I say as I walk away.  I really wish I would have reminded him that he was my grossest date EVER.  I forever will have the memory of his murmuring colon in my head…literally sounds that I cannot forget. 

Thank you for enjoying my story about “POT PIE GUY.”  I hope you savored it as much as I enjoyed the real deal.  Hugs and such!  ~L

First Thing is First

Code Name: 928 Alien Girl

NEW YEAR 2015

 

When the sun arose today, I didn’t feel like a new person.

I wiped the sleep out of my eyes.

My coffee slipped over my lips the same way it always had...the same way it always will.

A new year; but for this one time I did not bring unrealistic expectations to the table.

I did not anticipate that all things would be perfect and new.

Rather it was the opposite this time around the block,

I carried with me a hearty dose of realism.

My backpack of dreams had been heavy.

It seems like over the years I had collected garbage.

Things that no longer suited me I continued to carry on my back,

as if it were my responsibility.

Today I choose to acknowledge reality,

whether the taste be bitter or sweet makes no difference to me.

I shall savor each day and what it brings, all while walking with my head up.

I no longer want to miss my journey while walking toward the star.

Simply by the fact that I am walking,

the Universe shall bring me all I need and desire.

No cumbersome bags required.

When the sun set today, I didn’t feel like a new person.

Yet I know that I am.