Tuesday, February 11, 2014

After all this time



So yes, I have figured it out.  I have figured out why I have not been sleeping well. Where all the crazy dreams have come from these last few weeks.  Why there has been a sadness that I just have not been able to get a hold of, to shake off. It makes me mad after all this time that my heart needs a break, that my heart even remembers and my mind won't let go.  That  I still feel so much and so intensely, completely wares a person down.  I wish that I did not; but I can wish it all away and that does not change a thing.  My heart still remembers and even with all the good things happening, my heart does not forget. Stories like Dylan Farrow in the news, and anniversaries for me, its hard. I would like to think that with so many good things going on that my mind, my heart would somehow not feel the past so deeply. Not feel the headlines or the holidays;  That somehow because things are going my way that I could ignore the past brokenness but that does not seem to be working.  So, here I go to try to acknowledge and not ignore.
 
 
I am not one for Valentines day.  But I don't think it was always like that, in fact I am pretty sure.  I remember parties at school and handing out cards.  I remember the crush on the guy with dark hair in fifth grade, that I got a special valentine for.  Levi was his name , I think . So no it wasn't always bad,
 
It was the night of the Valentines dance at school, I think it was my eighth grade year. My parents were gone, who knows where my brother was.  I was home alone. Of coarse I was not asked to the dance, I was too weird too different, there were too many things to worry about and a dance was not one of them.  I was always the friend.  I agree I was more than a little strange, I loved whales, said WHA..ALL..THE...Time... I was just plain different.  Living with my father was still not good but things were not as rough as they once were. Still not good but not as bad as times past either. 
 
The summer before was the Summer that I met Don, at that youth weekend through church, and I thought he was kind , thought he was a good guy.  The night of the  Valentine dance was the first night that he showed up at my house.  There was a part of me that was excited when I saw him, he was the cool guy that I had met, that was cute, that danced with me. He was nice to me, kissed me kindly, I thought I was special.   He had roses in his hand when I opened the door.  But soon I realized that he was not the same kind guy that I had met that summer and he was going to be just like everyone else in my life.  He  was not the same person and had no intention of being kind or gentle. 
 
These things had happened my entire life so a part of me just completely shut down, I knew or my mind knew exactly what it needed to do to survive, and so I did. I moved into a place in my head and the questions start.  Why was he once nice ?  Why would he bring me flowers and do this ?  Why in the world did he pick me ?  Why tonight ? The night of the Valentine dance ?   How did he know where I lived ? What did i do wrong ?  How did he know no one else would be home ?   What if my parents come home ? What if someone sees him ?  When will it stop ?  I just couldn't understand it happening anymore, I thought those things were over, you know !!!
 
In some weird way, in the days after it happened nothing really changed.  I walked around living in a daze.  I was breathing, going to school. I was not OK but I was trying to be.  I mean this was really nothing new, this was my life, I had learned so well to make everything OK and ignore what I was feeling and the things that had happened.  And I think maybe that is the part that breaks my heart is that I knew what to do.  Keep my mouth shut and just keep breathing.  I honestly don't have a clue how I did anything, how I went to class, did my homework.  Its kind of amazing the things you just keep doing when you don't know of anything else to do.  It wasn't even a thought in my head to tell someone, to ask for someone to help me, make sure that I was OK.
 
No one noticed a difference anyway, I wasn't around others very much so I guess no one had the chance to notice.  But Calvin, he knew that something wasn't right and he wasn't going to let it go.  He saw that I was not OK. He knew that my heart was breaking.  And I had never said the words before, never spoken any words about my abuse at all.  And I told him that I was raped.  I told him it was the guy that I had met that summer.  I remember him being silent.  I remember him stabbing something , and I thought that he was mad at me .  But he was angry at himself that he went to the dance and wasn't there to keep me safe.  I was shocked, someone was worried about me, someone wished that they were there to keep me safe, that thought had never occurred to me before.  It was hard for me to understand and see where he was coming from, or even why he was concerned.  He wanted to take me to a Dr. of coarse that was not an option I said that I was fine, these were things that I just had to deal with. Time heals the bruises. 
 
Calvin was pretty much my lifeline.  He watched out for me, cared for my heart.   He was just there, to listen if I needed to talk and to be quiet if I needed to be quiet.  Since Don started showing up at school Calvin was there to make sure that I was OK, to make sure that I made it to class.  There were times I was more than grateful to see him, and I would just hold on, he made me feel safe.  
 
So for me Valentines is not a day of love or good things.   Sometimes I amaze myself when after all this time, things hit me harder than I expect and I just want to curl up in a ball.  This year I will be in my first grade class, enjoying their valentine party.  I will do my very best not to think about the past.  We will watch a movie and be a family, eat pizza and have a special valentine dessert.  I have to remember how very long ago that time was, and at the same time care for my heart that aches even AFTER ALL THIS TIME. 
 
I am going to try to be gentle with myself this week.  I am going to pray for at least a little peaceful sleep, my head and my heart desperately need it.  I do hope that this week goes by quickly.  And I do hope that soon my heart will stop feeling so much.  I can't go back I can't make things different.  I am more than sorry that I had to experience so many things and I am more than sorry that it wasn't a thought to tell someone and get help.  Because thinking back Don was evil and him showing up with flowers was just the beginning, of so much hurt.   Pure craziness, I don't know where my head is , some things about that time seem so clear and other things I still can not make sense of at all.  Welcome to my life.  There are times that I feel I have come so far and other times when there is that ache, I don't even know what to do.  Stories like mine are not things you can openly share, not things that people want to hear, not things that people are even comfortable talking about.  And for me these are the stories that I have.....My current stories are getting better, things are changing but those past stories are what they are and I can not make them different, this is my life experience.
 
Things like this are more than complicated.  Sometimes you just want to talk, get it out, think things through and you can't.  Some things you just can't openly talk about and this is one of the many for me.  There are things I can't communicate.  I wish that there wasn't such an ache, a  deep pain I wonder if there will come a time when the ache is completely gone.  Its a sadness a feeling  that is deep and wide and holds so much. But I am prepared that this week will be a rough one and I am going to try to be OK, but no guarantees. 
 
And then there are the stories and commentaries about what everyone thinks about Dylan Farrow.  It seems that everyone has an opinion that makes them the expert.  Whether they think that she is wrong or right ? Is she lying or telling the truth ?  What were her motives ?  The list goes on and on.  I see these stories and like everyone one else there is a part of me that closes my eyes and just wants the stories to go away as if that would change things?  Well it doesn't and it won't.  In my busy crazy life I want to close my eyes but in my quiet moments I want to give her a standing ovation and thank her for sharing the truth.  A woman a girl a child doesn't  remember the facts like she does and deserve to be called a liar.  I believe her and I understand the pain.  They all end their commentaries with" well she is happily married and and that is wonderful for her but time does not heal all things and no matter how old that she gets and how many years that she is married that piece of her life will remain the same.  She was abused by her father and that is something that I am learning can never totally go away.  It is sewn into who we are.  No it does not define us but its a piece of cloth in our story.  I believe she is brave, and strong and justified in her actions.  People saying all these wonderful things about a monster tears at a persons soul and to fight back is such a risk and one well worth taking.  My father was seen as this amazing man, a pillar of the church, a great father, and on and on but he was a monster and nothing that anyone can ever say will change that.  My feelings for that man change, I do not like him I do not love him.  I despise him and everything that he stood for.  He has no heart no conscience and claims to be a new creation and therefore all is well.   No that does not work.  I will never pray for him or wish him well, I will focus on myself and healing and all the good things that are ahead of me.  These stories are hard in the news they bring up so much.  My heart goes to Dylan, I understand and believe her and wish her all good things.  There are stories saying that he ,her father, is not a monster, and that these things are "family matters" suggesting that these things should be kept quiet, and none of them is true.  He is a monster, in all meanings of the word.  These things should not be kept quiet they should be respected and people should act.  We can not close our eyes and even I at times want to do that due to the nature of the facts but we can't.  For many of us this is our story and we all have to speak, have to act and do things differently.  When we reach and help each other then we can change things and the focus can be on Dylan and her story and not the perpetrator.  There are so very many things to say and I am not sure that they are coming out the way that I would like.  Just know that when you hear one of these stories there are so very many that you don't hear about and we survivors hear them and our heart breaks because we know.  
 
And sometimes I just want to get away from it all, because it breaks my heart.
 
                                                                 I heart your heart
 

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