Nerve

*Spoiler alert: this post contains spoilers from the movie, Nerve, which does not open until July 27th. Read at your own risk.*

A few weeks ago, Andy got an email offering him a pair of passes to a free pre-screening of Emma Roberts's new film, Nerve. We had both been interested in seeing the movie when we saw the previews while watching Now You See Me 2. So when he forwarded me the email and asked if I was interested, I basically responded, "Well duh."

When the day came, we headed to the Highlands Ranch AMC theater after work, to make sure we got tickets. Passes did not guarantee tickets- the tickets were given out on a first come, first served basis. We were early enough, and claimed our tickets.

While Andy was sad that the movie started with no previews, I thought it was awesome to have a movie just start for once, without sitting through what sometimes seems like hours of theatrical trailers for movies that may or may not interest me.

The opening was more reminiscent of a teen flick than the action thriller that followed, but that was likely the point: things often seem benign enough, but then end up being far, far from it.

18 year old Vee was finishing up her senior year of college, and unhappy about the fact that she was going to have to turn down her admission to an art school on the other side of the country. Her single mom was having trouble making ends meet, and also mourning the loss of her older son, who died just after his high school graduation, two years before.

Vee was also best friends with Sydney, a trust fund, narcissistic drama queen, who cares more about being popular than about the well being of those around her. It was Sydney who introduced Vee to the game of Nerve, wanting Vee to be one of her "watchers." Nerve was an internet game involving two groups of people: watchers and players. Watchers paid to watch, players got paid to pay. Nerve compiled all information about a player- including "secure" information, such as bank account info, etc. The way the technology worked, there was no single server, so it was impossible to find out who was running the game or shut it down. The rules were made very clear: No police. Snitching carried with it very serious consequences. The watchers came up with dares for the players. The players were given financial incentives to complete various dares. The rewards got bigger and the challenges harder. Vee's first exposure to the game was Sydney flashing her bare butt at the crowd while cheerleading at a school game.

After a fight later that day, in which Sydney accused Vee of always being too afraid to do anything. In an effort to prove Sydney wrong, Vee decided to join Nerve as a player, and her first dare was to kiss a total stranger for 5 seconds. She did, and got $100 deposited into her account. As it turned out, the guy she kissed was also playing Nerve. He completed a challenge by singing to her, and then they got challenges sent to them that involved each other, because the watchers loved the two of them together. At that point, things still seemed rather innocuous, so Vee kept going with the challenges, quickly completing enough challenges that continued increasing in value to add a few thousand dollars into her account. Fast forward a few hours, and Vee has managed to complete a challenge that Sydney bailed on, severely damaging their relationship, and shortly thereafter, Vee bailed on Nerve.

She blacks out, and when she wakes up, she's inside a shipping crate, with a video playing and telling her she's not allowed to bail. The guy she's been playing with finds her and fills her in on how Nerve really works. Once a player gets to a certain level, if they bail, they enter the third category of the game: Prisoner. He and another guy who was also playing, and causing some severe issues for Vee, had bailed on the final challenge the year before, which included hanging over the city of Seattle, from some scaffolding. The third finalist didn't bail, but he did fall to his death. Because the other two had bailed, Nerve had destroyed their lives. Threatened their families, emptied all their accounts, etc. The only way out was to win. Vee was now a prisoner, too. Her partner told her she had to win, and he was going to try and knock out the third competitor to make sure she could win.

Vee wasn't willing to accept this, and came up with a plan to bring down Nerve, which everyone had thought was impossible, due to the lack of a central server. With the help of some techhie friends, they put a plan into place. It was a long shot, but it was better than nothing. Vee finds herself in the final round on Ellis Island with her former partner, surrounded by a few thousand watchers in masks, yelling for them to shoot each other. The first to shoot would win. Vee refused to shoot, even though she could have just shot her opponent in the arm, and he'd live, and she'd be free. She started yelling at everyone, "Do you think this is what 'nerve' means? Do you think it takes nerve to stand in an arena and shoot someone? Do you think it takes nerve to shout at us to do this behind your masks and behind your screens? Where no one knows who you are?" When her time is up, the third finalist, from the year before, jumped in the arena and begged to let him shoot her, saying he'd do it. The watchers went for it, and he took his place in the arena, opposite of Vee, while her tecchie friends worked frantically behind the scenes to take down the game. Vee continued to yell at her watchers that they had no idea what nerve really was. The countdown started again, and Vee's new opponent shot her. She collapsed, and the watchers who had approved the challenge all got texts sent to their phones with their names and the message, "You are an accessory to murder." They all scattered, and Vee's partner ran to her, horrified, despite Vee telling him she was fine.

In fact, she had been shot with a blank. Her friends had shut down the game, and they had all made their point. She had managed to get the third player to agree to the plan. Vee was finally free, but in those few, crazy hours, she had learned a lot about herself, and had grown immeasurably. She decided to go ahead and go to her dream school, on the other side of the country, and stop living in fear, and in the shadows of other people.

The movie made some excellent points, and I found myself really loving how Vee stood up and realized what real courage was. She risked a lot to try and bring down a game that fed off of the mob mentality. She also called out the Watchers as weak. They were allowing their better judgment to be overridden by the exhilaration that comes from being a part of a massive group which gives them collective power. That's not real power, and it's not real courage. Real courage is sometimes standing alone for what is right when facing a loaded gun. Real courage is sometimes risking one's life for what is right, and trying to bring down what is wrong. Is it easy? No. But it's worth it.

Asking for Help

Tuesday, I went to see a new hand specialist, to have my carpal tunnel and thumb issues looked at. The doctor I saw is the one who does hands and elbows for the Rockies and Broncos. She evaluated my hand, and said that she would like to get the results from the nerve conduction test I had done in Cape last year. She said that if it shows any nerve damage, which I'm pretty sure it does, her preference would be to do surgery. I signed papers for my old doctor to send out the report from the test, and she said that the office would call and schedule a new appointment when they got the results. I was expecting to hear that, but I was disappointed when I left. I'm 32 years old, and in all probability, looking at my 7th orthopedic surgery, for no other reason than that my joints weren't made to last.

It's frustrating that I can't really play the piano anymore. I wound up in tears on Sunday, while kneading a pie crust. Getting dressed can even be painful. A surgery would help, but it would be yet again months without the use of my hand- this time my dominant hand- and more months of therapy. This would be my 7th orthopedic surgery in 13 years, and not because I'm hard on my joints, but just because...they give out too soon.

I don't really have a choice but to deal with this. It'll only get worse if I ignore it. Normally, I handle my health issues really well. But it gets really overwhelming, especially on top of all my other issues. Sometimes, I find myself throwing items on the floor and storming away, because I can't open a lid, or hold something, or do whatever I need to do with my hands. It frustrates me that I love doing so many things with my hands, and so many strenuous physical activites, but I'm so severely limited by my health issues.

I don't know that I have any big point to make with this post, or any great story to tell. I guess my only point is this: sometimes the most Dauntless thing to do is to be able to accept and confront one's limitations, and to ask for help when needed. And that's something I have learned to do a lot. So I guess that makes me brave. 

Living Life

There has been a ton of new stuff going on in my life lately. Far more than this stability - loving girl likes. But I'm hanging in there and pressing on. Sandwiched between the very Dauntless trip to Glenwood Springs, and the nerve-wracking trip to Wyoming, I spent my first week at my new job as a Customer Care Manager at Level 3 Communications. That's basically a fancy term for a project manager. I was one of about a hundred new hires for this role, approximately half of which are scattered throughout the country.

I was thrust into five weeks of training involving tons of new people (no! Anything but new people!), more new information than I could possibly absorb, and a whole lot of confusion. But I made it through, and this week, we were all finally handed over to our new managers. I'm still in a bit of training for a few weeks before my manager starts throwing me my own orders to work on.

It's been interesting. I have never had a regular 8-5 office job before. Academia is pretty darn flexible, and my job at the cleaners, while full time, was only 3.5 days a week. It's not terribly far from home, and I manage the parking lot that is I-270 every morning fairly well. Thank goodness for podcasts! There are some cool people at my job, and I think I'll like working there.

Landing this job marks a significant milestone in my life. I finally, at nearly 33 years of age, have a job that will actually pay all of my bills, and give me good health coverage. I am finally on the verge of financial independence. Next year, I'll finally have the money to be able to pay for all of my medical bills as well. Granted, supporting one's self feels good to anyone. But to an Autistic, chronically ill, cult survivor with PTSD, Anxiety, and Depression, who wasn't even allowed to go to college until she was 22, this is amazing. I'm making enough that, though I won't have much left over, I can even afford to support myself in a place with such a high cost of living as Denver, and I can even do it while living alone. I even have a 401k and life insurance! I  might even be able to buy a house in a few years.

It's kind of amazing, when I think about it. Here I am, with a Master's degree, living alone in a city well over a thousand miles away from my parents as a single female, wearing makeup, awesome clothes, and just living my own life. Making my own way. Living in a way that I was taught for years was, not just wrong, but actually dangerous and even evil. But I feel so free. I'm actually getting to the point of loving my life. It may not be anything like how I imagined or wanted it, but who cares? I'm in a good place and headed for good things. At the end of the day, that's really all that matters. 

Summer Travels: Wyoming

The first weekend in June, Andy took me up to his hometown of Caspar, Wyoming, where we attended his niece's graduation party, and he introduced me to his family. I had never been to Wyoming before, so I got to cross another state off my list. Of course, I made Andy stop when we got to the state line, so he could take a picture of me by the "Welcome to Wyoming" sign.

We stopped at a truck stop in the middle of nowhere to get gas, get a snack, etc. I was wearing a shirt I had recently gotten at Old Navy, and across the front, it said, "Wild." I bought it because I liked the freedom that it represented. In my ATI days, I wasn't allowed to be wild. I was to be meek, quiet, demure, and the epitome of all things ladylike. I had to sit and speak and walk and behave in ways that were not natural to me. I had to tame myself. And I hated every minute. I felt like I was in a cage. I was being forced to live in a way I wasn't meant to live. It took me years to finally comprehend my freedom. So when I saw the shirt, I knew I wanted it. Let me tell you though- a shirt with the word, "wild" across it takes on a whole new, creepy meaning when an old bedraggled truck driver winks at you and says he likes your shirt. I stuck close to Andy after that, and decided not to wear the shirt around truck stops anymore!

Of course, meeting the family is always nerve wracking. But add to that the fact that my last experience with meeting the family of a significant other was painfully awkward, my anxieties were even higher than they should have been. Andy's family was nice and didn't pretend I wasn't there, so that at least was a step up!

Saturday, Andy and his mother taught me how to play poker, as that whole family grew up playing the game. That evening, Andy's brother, sister-in-law, and two of their (grown) kids came over to play. We played three games, and I actually didn't suck. It's amazing- three years ago, I could barely bring myself to play a game of craps in Las Vegas when my cousin Jeff paid for my entry. But I sat there and played three games of poker, over several hours, and just had fun, and was happy about not being the first person out every game. I even managed to talk to my parents about it without feeling like I'd done something wrong, or feeling that I needed to justify myself.

We weren't in Wyoming for long, but upon going home, I felt a sense of accomplishment. I had managed to meet a bunch of new people and not entirely embarrass myself, not have a panic attack, and actually have a good time. I also learned a new game at which I'm not terrible, and was able to hold my own for a while. I went home with a little more confidence than I had when I left. And that's really what this move has been all about. Small steps towards regaining my confidence. Small steps towards healing from the past. Small steps forward. As long as I'm doing that, I'm doing well. 

Summer Travels: Glenwood Springs

Memorial Day weekend was an eventful weekend, to say the least. It began early Saturday morning, as a certain someone thought it would be "awesome" to leave by 6 in the morning to drive through the mountains for a three hour trip to Glenwood Springs, in the middle of the Rocky Mountains. Granted, it was a gorgeous drive, I just fail to see why leaving at 6AM was necessary. That said, we did make a stop at Starbucks, which made things a little more tolerable... Actually, I'm being dramatic. For some unknown reason, I was wide awake before the alarm went off at 5:30.

The drive was gorgeous. We drove through both Vail and Aspen, and a few times, reached altitudes where there was still plenty of snow on the ground. In other places, mountainsides and meadows were in full bloom, and the lakes we passed were breathtaking.

Our first real activity after arriving in Glenwood Springs and meeting up with Andy's friends, was white water rafting. I had always wanted to do this, and when Andy asked if I'd be up for it physically, I said I'd make it work! It's definitely not the kind of thing I'd be advised to do by any medical professional, given the state of my health and the fact that I have a loose piece of bone hanging out in my spine. But I was determined to do it, and made sure my back brace was cinched as tightly as it could be without actually suffocating me. When we got to the river, our guide asked for a couple of volunteers to sit at the front of the boat. In other words, he needed volunteers to sit in the scariest spot, and take the most water up their noses. Of course, I was immediately like, "Ooh! Pick us! Pick us!" As no one else was volunteering, they picked us. Andy normally would not have opted for the front, but he knew he was dating a Dauntless, so he managed to allow his Erudite self to sit in the front.

We got going, and boy, was that a ride! There were several times we'd come up to some rapids, and Andy and I could see the several foot drops into the rocks, and we would yell, "OH CRAP!" As we were thrust into the rocks and assaulted by walls of water in our faces. I should probably also mention that the water was about 40 degrees. Talk about cold! After two hours of bouncing out of our seats, holding on for dear life, and having so much water shoved up my nose I wondered if I was going to drown while in the boat, we made it to the end of the trip, and we all went back to our hotel to change. We went out to eat later, and how Andy's friends still had energy left after that to keep going while Andy and I decided to call it a night, I will never know. Sitting at the bar in that restaurant, I realized I had never in my life been simultaneously ravenous and so exhausted I was in pain from being so tired. Usually, I'm exhausted, but I'm more hungry than tired, so I eat and then go to bed. Other times, I'm very hungry, but I'm more exhausted than hungry, so I go to sleep without food. But this time, I was so hungry and so tired, that I simultaneously wanted nothing but sleep, and nothing but food. It's an odd feeling, let me tell you. Add to that the odd lady sitting next to Andy who decided to make us her best friends and talk to us about everything under the sun, and we had a bit of an odd night.

I slept through breakfast the next day, because...EXHAUSTED. Once I got up, I started taking inventory of my bruises from rafting the day before. My word. That was a LOT of bruises. I looked like I had been mugged! Andy kept patting my knee and I'd yelp in pain for about a week after that. I still say it was worth every bruise and every sore muscle!

The day after rafting, we went to the amusement park there in town, which is built on the top of a mountain. Roller coasters at 10,000 feet? Yes, please! I again wore my brace, as I was participating in activities no doctor or physical therapist in their right mind would clear me for. But my brace proved extremely effective, and I suffered no more than a few more bruises and sore muscles. We went on a barn door swing that went way over the side of the mountain, with nothing but the town and the Colorado river several thousand feet below. We also went on the more typical carnival swings that again went out over the edge of the mountain. It was an exhilarating feeling to be swinging out over nothing. I loved it.

At the end of the day, we went for a soak in the Glenwood hot springs. That was a lot of fun, and very relaxing. I will give you one piece of advice, though: Do not drink an individual sized box of wine (equivalent to three glasses of wine) on an empty stomach, at 8,000 feet, while in a hot springs, and in a mere 20 minutes. Nothing bad happened, I just...wouldn't recommend it. After that, we again went for dinner, and then said goodbye to Andy's friends, as we wouldn't be seeing them in the morning.

We headed home the next day, and while I was popping Ibuprofen like candy, the drive was nice. Not only does that weekend hold a lot of great memories for me, but I also love the decisions I made. The decision to go on a trip with just Andy, and four other people I had never met. That's never a comfortable thought for me. I'm not great with people, and I'm definitely not great with new people. Between being a highly introverted INTJ, Autistic, with Anxiety disorder, and a bit of an unusual past, it's just never very comfortable. Not only did I go on a trip with a bunch of strangers, but I also decided to go white water rafting and to go on various rides, all of which pose a threat to my back. I broke my back nearly 20 years ago, and in that time, I have been extremely careful, mostly because I have had to be. But not only have I just been careful because I have needed to be, I have also avoided risks because of what could happen. And while there is a time and place for that, I do finally have a brace that is extraordinarily effective. I decided that the risks, with that brace, were worth taking. I wasn't going to let the "what ifs" keep me from doing things that are very much me. Dauntless things. Things I have wanted  to do since I was a small child. And guess what? My courage paid off. My refusal to let a possible, but unlikely, outcome daunt me, resulted in some amazing experiences and memories I will love forever.

Hopefully, we'll go rafting once more before the summer is over, and many more times in the years to come.  It was SO much fun, and completely worth the soreness and exhaustion after! I think this was the most fun I had had in over a year. Moving to Colorado was the right move. I love it here, and I love all the Dauntless things I can do. I can't wait to do more things in this glorious place!

Independence Day

I sit here this evening, thinking about what an improvement today has been, over last July 4th. I remember waking up on July 1st, after a rough month of depression and PTSD issues triggered by all of the Duggar drama, thinking that July was going to be great. It was my birthday month, I had a brand new puppy, I had some great things planned, and I had this amazing boyfriend that I knew was with me through thick and thin, forever. But that afternoon, my whole world turned upside-down, and thus began the string of events responsible for creating this blog. The boyfriend that I knew would never ever leave me, came to me and did exactly that, telling me he needed some time. He broke up with me, but left me with every reason to believe he wanted to work things out. I honestly thought things would work out with us, but I was nevertheless devastated, confused, even angry. It was a pain deeper than any I had ever felt, and being a chronically ill 30-something cult survivor with PTSD, whose brother died when she was 9, and who has zero relationship with her own sister, that is saying something.

A few days later, on July 4th, I found myself in Northern Kentucky, staying with my parents and our cousin Ethel, with my lively puppy, Rue. I spent the afternoon at Barnes and Noble with Tamara, one of the people always responsible for keeping me sane, and my third mom (yes, there's a story there). We were looking at books on anxiety disorder, so I could learn better how to control it. My parents went to their usual 4th of July picnic at a friend's summer home, and invited me to come along, but I just couldn't. There were too many people there who had known me my whole life and would ask too many times how I was doing, and several who would ask how things were going with Z. I just couldn't do it. Any time I thought of or talked about him, or anyone asked about him, I felt as though I had been stabbed in the gut, and it took all the strength I could muster not to double over, clutching my stomach, sobbing, and gasping for air. At that point, I was doing well to manage to eat three bites per meal. I was so upset, I couldn't eat. I'm normally a stress eater. But in the worst moments of my life, I have been pushed beyond, to the point of not being able to eat at all. The very thought of eating made me feel ill.

So I stayed home. I laid on my bed at Ethel's house, and FB chatted with a good friend of mine (you know who you are), who was dealing with her own relationship crisis at the time. Just a couple weeks before, we both had been very happily in relationships with the guys we were sure were The Ones. And there we were on the 4th of July, me in this unsure and devastating place of being broken up but not sure what that meant, and she, being in this place of knowing she needed to break up with him, but not wanting to. So we talked, for hours. We talked about the pain, of love found unexpectedly, and of love in jeopardy. The time I didn't spend chatting with her or tending to my needy puppy, I spent reading my books on anxiety. It was hands down the worst 4th of July I have ever had in my life. I just wanted to die.

Fast forward to this year. Andy was on call for work, so we couldn't venture far from his house. But I kept telling him that anything would be an improvement over last year. And it was. It wasn't the most exciting 4th of July I have ever had, by any means. But I got to spend the day with a guy who loves me, and who also understands that this time is rough for me. The last month or so, leading up to July 1st has been rough, and has involved more tears than I would like to admit. But he has asked me to be honest and not hold things in, and I have decided to be brave and honest. I would like to say that now, being with Andy, all of that pain and confusion and anger is gone. It's not. I'm not sure it ever will be fully. I'm not sure a person ever fully recovers from something like this. But I have someone who only expects me to be human, and so far, I have been able to muster up the courage and humility to accept that. And today had surprisingly few twinges. Andy put a goat roast in the crock pot for dinner, and it was delicious. While he worked, I watched tv and spent an outrageous amount of time napping. At the end of the day, he asked, "Better day than last year?" I was honestly able to say, "Yes, much."

It's amazing to me how much healing has taken place. And at the same time, it's amazing to me how little healing has taken place. But regardless, I'm well on my way to being even healthier than I am now. As we celebrate our nation's independence from Britain today, I also celebrate my own. The more I heal, the more independent I become, and the less my well being has anything to do with the events of last year. And it's not just that. Eleven years ago, I wasn't free. I was stuck in my parents' home, in a cult that I was working hard to escape, but couldn't, just yet. I was also far more ill than I am now. My undiagnosed celiac disease was wreaking havoc on my body. It was hard. I wasn't free. But today, I am gaining freedom from the grief of the last year, I am free from the cult and the unhealthy grasp of my parents (though today they deeply regret ever getting involved in all that), and while I'm a long way from healthy, I'm far, far healthier than I was a few years ago.

So today, I celebrate my independence from all of the things of my past. No, it's not total, and likely never will be. But it's a process. And as long as I have the courage to keep pressing on in that process, I'm doing just fine.