1997 -- Much Pain, Some Joy

Okay, I'll choose 1997. This is a scary year for me to choose because there was a lot of pain in the first two-thirds of the year. I was so unbearably lost and confused. It had been three-and-a-half years since I had graduated from D.U. (which up to that point had been the best day of my life).

I'm choosing this year because I want to write about the process of learning to listen to my heart. This is such a huge subject that I think in the future it will become a genre, in itself. I want to focus on trying to follow my heart in my work and I need to narrow the time frame, so decided to take the 10-year time frame from 1997 to 2007 in which I have worked in law.

As we begin 1997, I am living in my condo in Aurora. Josh is living with me. I am trying to be a writer. I'm writing a book that has many incarnations, but ends up being "Pandora's Box." My guess is that I'm drinking every day, or nearly every day. My favorite thing to do is get a glass of wine and a bowl of green olives, sit down at the computer to write while I sip the wine and munch on the olives.

Looking back I can see that I was incredibly fragile. I don't know how I ended up that way, maybe just too much heart-break in my life. Inside I was like a frightened animal, eyes wide and trembling in the corner. The little things I did, like drinking wine, were my way of building a buffer between myself and the world.

Josh is living there, but neither of us are deeply happy in the relationship. I'm constantly on the defensive, expecting him to leave me any day, so act as if he's gone already. He knows he's not in love with me, but maybe hasn't quite figured out what to do yet. Or maybe he was trying to make it work, but at that time in my life, I was incapable of opening my heart up.

I believe it was in May of 1997, I went to Keystone with four other women for a weekend writers' retreat. That was a wonderful experience. That writers' group was a joy to be in. Then Beth, Dave, and I drove to Texas to visit the family. I'm assuming Catherine and David were with us. (could find some pictures)

I believe at this point, I was taking Paxil. I had started in December of 1995. I talked to Dad a little bit about my depression. I'm not sure he understood what I was experiencing, but he could tell that something wasn't quite right with me and he was supportive of me getting the help that I needed.

Looking at my transcripts, I can see that I was taking classes at D.U. every quarter. I had been admitted to the Graduate School of International Studies, though by 1997, I was no longer taking courses in international studies. I was taking philosophy and English classes. This was part of me trying to listen to my heart, figure out what direction I should move in.

I know now that part of the feeling of being lost came from the fact that I needed to make money. I think that is one of the worst crimes against humanity and the earth in this day and age. (Maybe always, but I know it's true today.)

I was actually doing well in my classes -- all A's. I was powerfully drawn to writing. I believe that these things alone could have sustained me if I hadn't been terrified about money all the time. Though there was also the issue of how dysfunctional I was in relationships with men, so.... who knows? If I'd had a strong sense of self -- the Me who loved to write and take philosophy and literature courses -- would I have developed an "internal locus of control" so that I could be in a relationship with a man without dissolving into a puddle of rotting innards?

At some point, I made the decision to sell the condo. It felt like a ball and chain. I was searching for myself and needed more freedom. It was nice to be rid of the obligations and responsibilities. With the returns, I was able to pay off debt and still have $5,000 left over.

Josh announced to me that he was going to rent an apartment with a friend of his out in Lakewood. I decided to rent a studio apartment on the north side of the D.U. campus. Josh took my bedroom furniture. That made it easier for both of us.

At the time, I didn't own a car. Earlier in the year, I'd had a red Dodge Neon, but it had been repossessed months ago. So I got around on foot or bike. I was hanging around with Billie quite a bit (really since 1996). I enjoyed her company and friendship. Spending time with her helped me a lot to deal with the pain of breaking up with Josh. Though Josh and I were still friends and would see each other occasionally.

This led to my accidental pregnancy in early August. We both knew we made a mistake, and I hoped I didn't get pregnant. I thought, "Great this is all I need to add to my problems!"

I made a couple of trips that month. One was down to Antonito to visit Marian for a week. I told her I was afraid I might be pregnant. Then I went to Yellowstone to spend time with Mom. I met Beth at a Greyhound stop. We stayed in a little cabin one night. The kids were there too. Then we headed to Yellowstone to meet up with Mom. This is when Beth and I had out falling out.

During this trip, I was coming to the awareness of my pregnancy. I was beginning to detect the signs.

I was working at an Italian deli and restaurant on University in Bonnie Brae. It only paid $6.75. I had to ride my bike to work or sometimes I would walk. It was a lousy job. It didn't pay well. I couldn't sit down during the whole time I was working, though I would anyway. I'd sit on the window ledge to rest a bit.

Finally, I took a pregnancy test and confirmed what I already knew. I talked to Josh about it. He said he'd leave the decision about what to do in my hands. I was inclined to have an abortion. I couldn't really see the point of bringing a child into the world under those conditions.

I was starting to get sick, throwing up a lot. All I had to sleep on was a cheap, crummy futon, which was basically a piece of foam on the floor, too small for me to fit on without my feet hanging off the end. It was the fall quarter. I was enrolled in a philosophy course called "Great Thinkers -- Plato." I was thinking about getting my M.A. in philosophy. But then I had to withdraw from the class. I was just to sick and tired and uncomfortable to get up and sit in class in the morning.

At some point I quit working at the restaurant, Cucina Leone. My guess is that the weather was bad and I didn't feel like going in, so I just called and quit. At that point, I had made the decision to keep the baby. Though maybe I was still wavering. I remember that Josh took me to Planned Parenthood for a proper pregnancy test. They gave me an ultra-sound. I still have the pictures. There was Sarina. Even at that point, I was leaning toward having the baby.

I thought and thought and thought. A part of me really wanted to have the baby even though my life was a mess. I believed deep inside of me that I had a reason to care. I had felt so lost and now I felt grounded. I suddenly had something to care about. I still really loved Josh and missed him. I knew not to have the baby in the hopes of getting him back. The stakes were too high to take that risk. I knew that if I decided to have the baby, I would have to go forward with the assumption that Josh would be completely out of the picture. Could I handle it? Could I do it on my own? I decided that I would do it.

Always, I imagined that my baby was a little boy. I thought of names for him. Now I'm not sure I like this name, but I thought of the name Dharma Love Davis. Sounds a bit too hippyish, doesn't it? Josh thought so too. But we did agree on a name for a girl. I had know since I was 19 that if I ever had a little girl, I would name her Sarina Tangerine. My second choice was Sarina Cassandra. Josh liked Sarina Cassandra. I had to concede, mainly because without us being married, if I named her Sarina Cassandra, her initials would be STD.

By the time Josh took me to Planned Parenthood for the ultra-sound, he was already dating someone else. I still wanted him back. I wasn't going to have the baby for that purpose, but I hoped it would be an Ace in my favor. I was serious about getting my act together.

I remember being over at Billie's house, talking to her about my decision to keep the baby. Once I made that decision, I quit drinking. I worried about the drinking I had done prior to that decision, but hoped I had done any damage to my little baby. I knew I needed to get a decent job. I was thinking about becoming a paralegal, an idea I had toyed with in the past. I went to Denver Paralegal Institute to find out about applying and getting financial aid. I applied to a temp agency downtown. One of the strange coincidences was that the first assignment they sent me on was at a major law firm downtown. I started in November and it lasted for a few months. This reinforced my decision to get into law as a career. It seemed like the right path for me.

I bought a car. It was a little red sports car.

So, I was set on a new course in my life -- working in law, preparing to enter the 9-month paralegal certification program at Denver Paralegal Institute.

I went to visit Marian in Michigan over the Christmas holidays. I took the Greyhound bus. They lost my backpack. Apparently it went all the way to New York before coming back to Michigan. It was an interesting experience for me though because at that time in my life, everything I owned was second-hand or something I'd had for ages. I couldn't afford to buy new clothes anymore, especially maternity clothes that I would only be wearing for a few months. I kept thinking, "All I want for Christmas is my old second-hand clothes." I would sing it in my head. It made me realize that everything is relative.

On the bus back to Denver, there was a lay-over in Chicago. Not very pleasant trying to get a little rest on the tile floor of a Greyhound bus station in Chicago when you're five months pregnant, but somehow I managed. When it was time to load on the bus, I walked down the aisle and found a seat next to a guy who looked like John Cougar Melloncamp. I was a touch intimidated, but thought he seemed better than the crap shoot. You never know how you're going to end up sitting with, so best not to be too picky or you might end up with worse.

That guy turned out to be Vic. He was kind of funny. He took a shine to me right away, sleeping with his head on my shoulder. I thought he seemed a bit forward, but also kind of liked the attention. When we got back to the Greyhound station in Denver, early in the morning, we exchanged phone numbers. I walked to Broadway and caught the bus to the street that crossed with the street I lived on, then walked all the way from Broadway, almost to University, five months pregnant with a backpack on my back and fell asleep on my too small foam pad futon.