This Is Some Hard Stuff to read...

Greetings Friends and Readers,

I had great trip to Austin, and I can't thank Zoe enough for opening her home to me and giving me a place to crash.  And for being so incredibly supportive. And to all the folks that I have met in this journey.  Well.. most of them. And thanks to Cara for also being so helpful and supportive in showing showing me the right offices to go to, and how to sign up for testimony.

Going on these trips... and being around all those people is very difficult for me.  Each step I have to take with lost ones in mind to take the next step. I picture my Grandma Ruth by my side when going down the halls of the State Capitol in Austin.  

The hardest part...is when the time comes for me to have to tell my story... tell why medical cannabis is so important to me.  I feel that moment before I begin to speak... my throat chokes up, my heart races and I murmur to myself.. "Here we go..".  Has telling this ugly story over and over helped any?  Well, some.  But... it also brings it all back. It reminds me of the immersion therapy that I turned down. I didn't WANT to have to live it over and over. And yet.... for this cause, for Wendi...for Michelle... for all those lost to suicide, opiates, alcohol or cancer.. I have to.  But lemme tell you.. opening your mouth, and the words come out.. and you see the shock, outrage, and ... pity.... on the faces as you tell the story.. is like a plow churning up my heart.  Even writing this.. the bare and raw feelings.. hurts. But because I now have  a larger, and different audience then I've had in the past... I realize.. that I have to share it.  I need YOU... yes YOU.. the reader.. to read and feel.. You'll never understand... but perhaps, it will inspire you to help if you are not already.  

As I tell the story.. I can feel that Iranian pilot beating me again,  saying the words I didn't understand 'diplomatic immunity'... I remember him telling me I'd never have children.. I could feel.. horrid humiliation as he wanted me to, the searing pain as he did things to me I'd never experienced. I remember waking in sick bay.. being commanded to tell who had done this.. my weeping.. the sudden shock and silence when I named my attacker, then I remember the 'oh fuck, not again' from someone in the room before they all fled from me.   I  .. remember.. the nurse's kind and soft words... so sad as she tells me I'll never have children... at 17...I was too numb and drugged to feel the full impact of her words, the fulfillment of what my attacker had told me... as was the next part...  I especially remember the rain droplets like little diamonds on the long black coat of the man who  hissed a Direct Command to me to never, ever tell anyone what had happened, including my own mother......words of National Security.. diplomatic immunity... how he scared me more then my attacker...that I would be taken back to the barracks and I would tell everyone that I had fallen down the stairs late at night.  My throat chokes up.. and it's Lonnie, holding my up off the ground by my throat again, my feet kicking and trying to touch the ground... choking me into almost unconsciousness before he throws me to the ground and shoves his terrible, disgusting member down my throat, gagging me.. and then shoving me into the dirt as he does more evil  upon me. I feel the despair and rage when I see him with the Capt's arm around him as best buddies in off time, and he sneers at me. He holds up the key to my room and I know.. he's gotten something hidden. I saw someone try to escape him, and be slut shamed, charged with adultery, although she wasn't married, and drummed out of the Navy in dishonorable disgrace. I know he's won and there isn't any damn thing I can do but try to survive one more day.. to get out of 'this MAN's Navy' (His words) alive.  

I can't begin to explain the horror of that life.. day after day.. being a sadist's play toy, the despair I felt.. and how I just gave up even trying to advance... the shame in that in itself, and in turn also used against me to show what a loser I was.  But.. I did.. survive.. but I did not begin to live, until my Uncle did his intervention on me, and convinced me to use cannabis instead of alcohol to try and deal with whatever was murdering me from inside that I couldn't even tell him.. my most beloved Uncle about.. because of that Direct Order..that ruled my life for 35 years.  But.. he did save my life.. unlike my brother who died a few months before from alcohol poisoning.  Treatment at the Vet Center (NOT the VA) is giving some threads of sanity. 

Then.. I have to speak.. and I have to take that horror, and try not to shock my audience too much. 

Medical cannabis has helped with all this, more then I can say. The pharmaceuticals didn't help at all, only made it worse. I choose medical cannabis.  I don't want to be a criminal.  Today, I have my little cookie in me, and I can write this.. I can.. talk about.. and not have to re-experience what else I remember...

the cold of the gun under my chin. 

my finger on the trigger...

tears as I wanted the images of my past to just

stop

and then.. I do as my beloved Uncle recommended to me.. I go have a puff of cannabis for breakthrough if my cookie isn't enough. And then.. I feel the relaxation.. the feeling of 'well being'.. in spite or rather dispite my past.

And then.. I can now guird myself up for another day, as a cannabis warrior here in Texas. 

I want to stop and retire.. I want to be able to STOP FIGHTING FOR MY MEDICINE.  I want Alexis to be able to come home to Texas.  23 days and no seizures since she had to move to Colorado.  I long for the day I can say she is safely home.  Please.. please help me do that if you are friend, staff, Legislator, caring citizen.

Tomorrow, I head to Austin again.. to take my package to Myrna Crownover, the head of the Health Committe here.  I pray and send energy that she will open her mind.. for she unknowingly triggered me very badly last Tue in the Capitol.  She was in the hall, as we were going by.. and said to someone on  our team "Yeah, I know, ya'll just wanna smoke pot and get high".  I .. was .. gobsmacked... outraged.. furious... TRIGGERED. NOOOOOO I wanted to wail..... I just wanna.. LIVE.. I WANT ALEXIS TO COME HOME.. I WANT SO MANY TO HAVE MEDICINE.." She has no idea that it was like stabbing me both in the heart, and back at the same time.  I forgive her her ignorace.. she must belive the lies my Grandma taught me about when I was young.. so I can understand. So I pray.. I pray hard.. when I can't do anything else but murmur to God.. soften her heart.. open her mind.. 

I broke down at group on Mon when I recounted the above scene..  my therapist.. shook her head and told me... how proud she is of me.. for going.. telling OUR story (for I am far from the only one) she said she supports me, and medical cannabis 100%... as do all the other ladies in my group. Another one also uses cannabis like myself.. the others are too afraid of what would happen if they get caught. But I hear of the side effects, I see a sister warrior on VA psyc drugs too out of it to hardly comprehend what we are even talking about.  

I am waaaay out of my comfort zone in so many ways now.  I also feel God's Hand firmly on my shoulder as I put each foot forward to do what I am now.  I never, ever wanted to have to tell people this story..but I am doing it for myself, my fellow warriors, for Alexis, the children and all the good citizens of Texas.

Sat... I will volunteering at Willie Nelson's Putt n Puff, a fund raiser to help veterans with trying to change the cannabis laws.  Another matter of walking my talk.  I am driving there myself.. I am staying at an Airbnb place about 20 min from the venue.  I'l come back on Sun.  I am nervous but also excited.  

Well. that's as much as I can write today.. 

Please feel free to leave a supportive comment.. I could use em.  I see folks come here, but I am talking to myself. That's okay.. as it is my journal.. but.... it would be nice to see someone acknowledge it. 

Over and out,

Myst