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Tagged by brownkitty

Explain your LiveJournal name and its meaning. When you're done, tag as many people as there are letters in your name.

Hm. Well, I began carousing at the Bar around the same, since I seem to recall your presence there when I delurked. I was originally nothing much, then because of a misspelling I named myself La Gioconda. Time passed. There accumulated a number of bears on the bar. One of the Barrys asked me if I would be Ginger Bear so he could be Root Bear. Not one to miss an opportunity to pun, I accepted. I shortened it to G'bear, and later on was informed that Anne McCaffrey had used the same name for a dragonrider in her newest book. Serendipity, I assure you.

So, as the years passed, and the bearish persona took hold, I also wandered into LJ-land, following my friends. I decided to use the bear persona but to use other languages to keep things obscure. I used to collect names of things, including words in other languages and including the word for bear. I put two of them together to make one word, and ever since I've been etumukutenyak, the bear with good hair in the sunlight.

Back in my G'Bear days, a good friend who is no longer with us had decided I must be a panda. The Mad Irish were-mouse opined that I was a Red Panda, but sometimes I feel more like a Giant Panda. Whichever it is, a panda I remain. :-)

I really must find a decent panda icon. :-)

Oh, now to tag people. Let's see: I have one, two, many, many-one, many-two, many-three, many-many-one, many-many-two, many-many-three, LOTS of friends. Except for BK, all of yez are hereby tagged. Get to work!

Thirteen years

It's hard to believe that it's been thirteen years already. Of all the friends who helped me that day, none of them are on LJ, and only one of them is in regular contact. The others have all moved on with their lives, moved away from Louisiana, and in one case, out of the US altogether.

Thirteen years ago this evening I was devastated by an unexpected violent assault, from a housemate. It was, quite literally, a life-changing event. I wasn't just damaged, I was destroyed. In one violent moment, I lost my self-confidence, my sense of self-worth, my foundations. I was shattered beyond repair. I was silent for days, because there was so much emotion inside that I could not begin to talk. My breathing changed into a pattern of long holding interspersed with sudden deep intake. I played solitaire on my computer for hours on end, because then I didn't have to think, and not thinking meant not remembering.

It took me more than a year to pull myself back together, to heal from the damage, to begin healing the PTSD. Two years later I met my partner, and as the years have passed, I've thought less and less about that day.

There is no way I could ever be the person I was before that day. She was naive, trusting, young..I am cynical, skeptical, and wiser. Yet, that violent moment changed me into who I am. In such small ways are silver linings found out of dark clouds.

( It seems I have chosen a long and lonely road )

I learned so much in that one event that it's hard to do it justice in a single post. I know martial arts now, and my protection is automatic even though it's been years since I entered a dojang or dojo. I know that I can survive the worst that a human being could attempt to do to another. I know that despite the pain, life continues, and only time will bring me to another level place of calmness deep within. I know that life is wonderful, and rich, and full of lovelinesses. I know that I have a rage that dwells deep within me. I know that I will not let anyone hurt me or any member of my family. I know that there's much more than even I can tell.

I debated putting this behind the filter, and of screening comments -- but there's no point. I talked about it for months afterwards, and it's no secret to be kept corrosively hidden in the heart. Open air destroys the pain and lances the infection of grief.

Each year I grow further away from that past.