As this month is finally coming to close, I have probably said too much, not said the right words, not been clear but please know that this is all that I have. I am just me. As all these things have come together this is me. What a long crazy month. I find myself wanting to apologize. I am sorry for sharing, sorry that I can't connect with you, sorry I don't have the same kind of stories to share, sorry that I am standoffish, sorry for so many things. I wish that I could share my heart and find just the right words so you would understand. I am sorry for the things I write the things that I desperately try to get others to see. I am almost sure that all these feelings are worse for me lately, the last few weeks have been rough. Since I am going to put myself out there , walking across the stage in front of all those people. I am going to be saying look at me look at me and that Wow that's a rough one, this graduation is going to bring up many cans of worms...UGH...that stinks..that is also my life.
Yes, my past is over, the things that have happened are long in the past, my father is not coming down the hall anymore, there is no one waiting in the hall at school to mock me and make fun but there are days my heart remembers every detail of those times. I hate attention, any attention. For me growing up any attention was bad. I got attention I didn't deserve; attention that I didn't want. I was always told I was so mature, and really I had to be there was no other option. That was survival. What else was I supposed to do ? I always looked older, developed early and everyone always noticed. I was always noticed and all I wanted to do was be invisible. I was always given attention that I never wanted and never asked for, so I kept myself away from all people. Men weren't safe but women never protected me so I was out of luck ALWAYS.
For me its not just about men, its about all of the people that have betrayed my heart my trust my soul. People should have seen people should have helped and they didn't. I am not sure that people can understand, but if I ask you something if I talk to you that is big, even more than huge for me. That means that I trust you that you are important, that I am willing to share a part of me with you. It takes me so much, to share to be open to be honest with how I feel. Even this stupid post, A few will read it; a few will not, a few might even turn away; a few will understand ;a few will hold their heart because they know without a doubt how very grateful that I am too them. A few will understand just how far that I have come. I will not stop talking or writing about my past until for me it is done, until I have helped all those that I could possible help and until I can open my arms and dance and know that it is done. I have done all the work and I am free. I am needy and am more than sorry, I need much love and so much kindness, there is a lot to make up for. I have so much love and kindness to share and I often don't I just don't have a clue how. Sometimes there are so many things that I want to share that I just can't, I just don't know how to. Sometimes all I have are tears, because there are no words .
I hope that this month you have at least thought about sexual assault. What does it mean to you, how can you help, has it happened to anyone that you know . I hope that you maybe have a little more understanding, a kinder hear a little more patience. I want you to understand that my story is extreme and hard on every front and I am more than sorry but there are people like me all over the place that are just looking for someone to hear them to hold their hand....BE that person, I understand its hard, I understand how hard I am to love, but please be there for others . For us survivors its about learning to dance even with our broken heart. Yes without a doubt my heart is broken and yes with out a doubt I am trying to dance, someday. I. WILL. SOMEDAY. This is one thing that I do know for sure.
I am not sure yet; the purpose of my story what it all means in this world but it has to make a difference to someone, to something someday. I am here for something, any attention is more than rough butI have made it , I will keep sharing until I find that purpose and all that has happened has in some way been redeemed.
I met someone this weekend that talked about getting back in the game. That a person wants things to happen but if you aren't in the game then they can't happen . If you aren't on the field, then how can you win, how can you achieve how can you be a part of something ?
WHAT........Well that totally makes sense!!!!!!! Because honestly a part of me, a big part of me, has checked out of the game. I am scared to death, of being hurt and not being OK. I mean I am always OK. I always get right back up and keep going, but there is going to come a time, when its too much. There is going to be a time, when everything is not OK. Sherri is always fine, always always fine, only really I am not fine at all. Things bother me and I always just bounce right back . I keep going and all is well. I handle everything, take all the bad breaks but I have left the game.
And really when you think about it, that makes total sense. I am tired of being hurt, being ignored, I am tired of the broken promises and I have checked out of the game. I want all these things but in reality there is no way that I can have them because I have checked out of the game, I am terrified of risking my heart and being hurt yet again. My fear is that the next big break will be completely unfixable, and at that point, there will be absolutely nothing that anyone can do. All there will be is brokeness, and I don't want that.
I fight so hard, and so intently on healing my heart getting to a place where I feel that I belong,that I am not so different. But the fear is something unbelievable and I fear that there is something that is going to be the last straw and I won't be OK. So I stop trying. I think I have completely stopped trying. Not giving up that is something different, But I am terrified of taking those chances getting involved and getting into the game giving all that I have and once again being left behind. Once picked last maybe always picked last ?!?
I think I have spent my entire life, on the outskirts. There have been times when I put a foot in the game , I try things out, but I sense danger, I get sensitive and I am outta there faster than lightning. I can think of a few times that I was all in, both feet, and even my heart. I trusted, I gave my whole entire heart. I was open , I was honest, I shared, I found amazing people and as fast as I was given all those great things they were gone ! Everything that I thought was real and true was gone. I think for a time it was real and true but so many things changed, and I felt it slipping like sand through my fingers. I held on with all my might but holding on for things to be the same, was just prolonging the inevitable, it was over. What there once was was gone, so long , good bye, just like that. And I completely took my self out of that game. I simply am scared to heaven and back of giving so much and it happening again.
People say life is messy, you can't stop trying, that things change all the time, people change like the wind. And I know all those things are very true. But the hurt that I have had, I can not afford to risk so much. I can not risk my heart, and I am close to saying that I won't. Very few things that I won't do, and risking my heart is one of those things. I am sure that is for now. There has been just so much hurt these last few years that I can not chance my heart. BECAUSE I fear that I just can't handle another heartbreak. I can not handle sharing my heart and then out of sight , and my heart is on its own all over again.
I am used to my heart being lonely, that is par of the coarse for me. But when you find all those things that your heart longs for it is the most amazing feeling. For me if I connect with you its for always, that is probably bad. But it takes so long to trust and have an open heart, that once you are in, you kinda get a permanent place. And I can't give those permanent places right now. I think right now, I would rather expect little from people and need them less.
I understand the need to get back in the game. I understand the meaning, the reason even the thinking behind it. I am not sure in this moment I am ready to get back in the game. I will be, that is what I am working on, but right now, I need time, I need love and lots of kindness. So my goal is to find a game that I want to join and put at least one foot in, I don't know when or how or even what game, but I am hoping for sooner than later.
At this point in time I can say yes I am still alive. But I can also say that sometimes
my heart hurts so
much
that
I
forget
its
already
over.
I can say yes I survived, and I am living and moving forward.
But, there is a big but that it is not finished.
There are times that my heart hurts , my heart aches like it was yesterday
There are days, I want to curl up in a ball,
And days that I cry oceans.
But there are also really good days.
Days when I see that sparkle in my students eyes.
More days than not
I can laugh and enjoy my children.
I can teach and help children learn.
I can be a friend and sit with you when you cry.
And I heart your heart and I usually cry too.
I am alive, I am glad that I am alive, that I was not killed, that I made it.
But I have to learn that its OK that I am still heart broken.
And even with all those good things happening, even as wonderful as the good things that are
happening
My picture of being done is changing, and I wanted a clean slate but not sure that is an option
I am sad About the past, losing being a little girl.
Sad that my heart doesn't have the innocence that I see in other kids.
I get sad About the present and how I am treated by my family, that they won't talk about
The things that have happened to me.
Absolutely heartbroken the things that my children will someday need to understand.
So this month, Sexual Assault awareness month is a long one.
There are times I can go days even weeks not thinking about it, then ......
BAM....Its there everyday.....and it hurts like nothing else......
And there are so many good things happening, this is the last thing I want to think about
BUT ITS THERE LOUD AND CLEAR.
There has to be a reason why, A reason why, there is a longing to understand the WHYS, and the purpose. I long for others to understand where people like me are coming from. I will not stop writing or talking about it until there comes a time when I hear a whisper that says your done.
Its OK to put it away.
I have to learn to be OK where I am, no matter the amount of talking, longing some things are ...
Just Going To Be.
I work more than hard , getting over this and its just not that plain and simple
There was no normal beginning for me, there was only hurt
Before I even had the chance to figure out life, It took all that I had to learn to survive.
Today I am living, I am happy , but there are very sad parts.
I am let down by people, and I don't understand why
there has to be some reason for this , that I have yet to figure out.
I should have a whole heart right now, with the work that I have done
BUT...
That just isn't the case.
If you read my blog often you know that I will never give up, I will keep fighting !
I don't know what the future holds but I know that somehow someway I will be OK.
I do not understand the journey or why mine is so difficult.
I am jealous of those people that have everyday support,
that have come to a further point in their healing.
I fear that people will think I am dwelling on the past, I promise that is not the case
I think there are times when that has fit me, but not now.
Its just been a LOT and there is a lot to figure out
My history is a part of me and why I do so many of the things that I do,
I understand that I am strange, I know that I don't fit in
Someday I will, someday I will be understood by more than the exceptional person that comes and goes.
I long for someone to stay, and someday it will happen.
Someday I will see the reason for my past and all that I have endured,
I just want to help others, have them understand, and be the difference for someone.
Through it all I am still ALIVE.
And I have a ways to go but I am living, I am breathing and becoming more of what I want to be.
Oh yes the silence. It can be good but it can also be very very bad. There is the silence because you are too ashamed to say anything. The silence when others refuse to see that there is a problem. There is the silence of secrets and the silence of threats. There is the silence of fear. The silence of not caring; its unbelievable how very many different kinds of silence that there are. The worst silence is when someone knows something and still does nothing. Silence can be a good thing, when you are sitting watching the clouds, enjoying being outside. But silence can also be something that damages a person right down to their bones.
I like silence, I have realized lately that when good things are around you, Silence can be amazing and peaceful and comforting. I am generally not a person that enjoys silence. I am a person that usually has some kind of noise going on all the time, music, kids playing, TV, I mean come on I even sleep with the TV on, I need the light and the noise, EVEN IN MY SLEEP. My head is VERY noisy and outside noise makes my head quieter.
But there is also silence that can be devastating, that can absolutely break your heart. The silence, when people pretend that they didn't hear you. The silence when people want to pretend that everything, is OK. The silence that is so loud that it hurts your heart. When a person has a history like mine, there is a lot of not nice silence, a lot of pretending that everything is just fine. And the silence can be sometimes worse than what has happened to you.
In your head you know the things that have happened to you, you lived them you know the damage. You know what life was like once upon a time and no matter what you do you can't go back and change things, make them better. And people don't know, its your world, your pain, your story. And I held it all in and I didn't say A SINGLE WORD for years. I think sometimes , there was a peace in that silence, because I knew that no one could do anything and then I would not have to answer every ones questions, I would not have to share the things that had happened or were happening. I wouldn't be disappointed that no one cared, no one noticed. There it is : The silence of not knowing. If a person doesn't know then there is nothing that a person can do. They can't judge, they can't sneer, they can't be cruel. If a person doesn't know then they can't make things better. Its when a person finally does know and still does nothing that is more than devastating. So I have always said I would have rathered keeping my mouth shut then get treated the way that I did by others.
It was a friend Calvin that broke my silence first. He knew that something was not right, he noticed, he knew that Something was wrong. He was kind and took care of me, made sure that I was OK. Finally he said that I had to talk to him, that he knew that something was wrong ....SO I did. I remember him being so upset, and of coarse I thought he was mad at me for letting it happen. And I kept apologizing, but for once in my life someone was angry not at me but at what had happened to me. I mean he was in high school, this is not something that he should have had to deal with. And he was more than amazing, he wanted to take me to the Dr to make sure that I was OK. But at this time, Rape was nothing new, it was just something that I had to deal with. The fact that he even noticed that I wasn't OK was more than amazing. He said I had to tell talk to someone, this couldn't happen to me. I was more than terrified, and said I wanted to tell the youth group leader. So Calvin took me into the bedroom, and he went to get Joan. I don't remember the words out of my mouth, what I said . I think Calvin was the one who even said the words. I was cold, all I remember were her words, Well should we get a pregnancy test ? I can still see the white speckled sweater that I was wearing, I even had socks that matched. There was all this commotion. Joan looking around she didn't have a clue what to do so I was blamed. They brought my mother in, I felt nothing. They took my father for a drive and told him, I felt nothing. Calvin came in and I held on to him, my body still hurt but I needed him to hold me. I remember saying that I was worried about all of their questions, they didn't understand that this was my life, this was nothing new ! I didn't shed one tear, I was on automatic. That night was never ending , I just wanted it over, Bob the youth groups leaders husband took me home. I can see it all so clear where we sat on the couch and everything. And he looked at me telling me how different that things were going to be. I was sitting there staring at the ceiling, wanting to pet my animals, he was way to close for comfort. Who in the world was he kidding, the problem was no one asked questions, no one asked if I was OK. It was all about them. They didn't have a clue but they didn't care to find out either.
The next morning, I woke up to my parents standing over my bed. There were phone calls to be made, Dr appointments to be kept and a counseling appointment. This was going to be a long silent day. The phone calls that I heard, were things I can never unhear. Not even 24 hours after I spoke, out, after I broke the silence and told I was labeled a liar, I just wasn't showing enough emotion. I heard the phone conversation and the many words that I was lying and just wanted attention. I heard the phone calls to the police department asking if they wanted to make a report and the answer was a firm no. Today I think why ? Why didn't they want to report what had happened to me ? There was the counseling appointment where my father berated me the entire time. And then at the end of the session that was all about him and his feelings she said maybe we should do this separately ? REALLY, what gave you that idea ! What about me here I am drowning.....
AND THAT WAS ALL.
My Silence was broken,
Two days later I went back to school.
NO locks were changed, no hearts were cared for. There was no , "I am sorry" .
To everyone else it was over, for me it had not even begun.
AND THAT WAS ALL.
My silence had been broken people knew and no one did a damn thing. I was labeled with many horrid names, I became the talk of the church but not one person reached out, not one person held my heart and asked if I was OK. And it was over. My body still bruised and beaten and to everyone it was over. And I began to wish that I had just kept my mouth shut.
Please be that person to make a difference, don't be silent, even if there are no words tell them that there is healing even in the acknowledgement of what was happened. There is no manual for this, no perfect way to do it, but as I always say kindness changes everything. Be kind, be gentle and you can make that difference for someone; who knows you might be the only person who isn't silent and they will be forever grateful.
I have this crazy connection with whales. I am sure that everyone sees my posts about whales and their importance what they mean to me. I say I have a crazy connection but no that is not right...... its not crazy its not weird its just different; my love for them is more real than close to anything in my life besides my children. I have a connection with whales, that I could spend my entire life trying to explain to you but I can't. There are no words. There is a peace in whales, a sense of family and belonging in each pod of whales that is something we humans can't even begin to imagine or come close to understanding. Whales have these amazing family structures. The moms stay with their children all of their life helping with each new generation. They take care of each other totally unconditionally. Totally unconditionally, their entire lives. Can you even begin to imagine that ?!?
The kids and I finally went to see Blackfish after waiting for what felt like forever. I have been posting about it for months on Face book and the time arrived it was finally open in Dallas.I was more than excited, to see something so beautiful and people trying to protect it, there is nothing more powerful.
I realized during that movie that Tilikum and I have a lot in common. And I am heartbroken for him. He is alone. He has been passed around. He has been starved, placed in dark cramped spaces and totally mistreated. He has been deprived of the things that he needs to thrive in the world. Love, respect and kindness. I have heard the comments its "just" a whale. Or " Oh come on its not really like that, its not that bad ". Who cares about an aggressive overgrown whale ? Well , I do. I care that he has not gotten what he needed, I care that he has been treated so unfairly, his entire life And I am going to make it my mission to make sure that people understand the life that he has lived. And the life that people like me have lived.
My connection with whales has been long, since I was 13, I have had this connection, this powerful almost bond with them. The same year that I found my love of whales is the same year that Tilikum or Tilly was moved to Sea World. I can tell you many many parallels that I see in our lives, and maybe that is why, my heart breaks for him. He has always been alone, taken from his family. I have been a loner due to the fact of the things that I had experienced. These whales are not mean and dangerous, they are sad and scared and yearning for what is rightfully theirs; a life in the ocean.
There is a part of me that is thankful I got the chance that summer to connect with whales, it has saved me many times. How I grew up there was no love, no compassion or much caring and when I touched that whale and looked into her eyes there was something there. There was a feeling a connection a bond that I had never experienced. Maybe it was her soul, maybe it was seeing what I needed to see but it had been so long since I was able to connect with anything and there was this huge whale in front of me, staring back. There was a feeling a communication that unless you have had it with another animal as Majestic as a whale you can not possibly understand. I could write books and books of words and descriptions but unless you have experienced that connection no words even come close. That is what I got from those whales. When there was no one, there were the whales. That whale that day saw me, not the gross and disgusting, the loner, or the hate I had for myself. They saw me and made me feel alive again when I felt nothing at all.
For me Blackfish is more than a movie to save the whales and give them back what is rightfully theirs its about what we all deserve is respect, love, caring and kindness. I was excited the night that it came on netflix and I would be able to watch it again see things that I didn't the first time I saw it, and it made me mad and sad and everything to extremes. One person knew how very important this movie was to me and watched it with me, and tried to understand what it meant to me. I am not sure many words came out or if I was very clear, but someone caring to ask and caring to listen was something new and amazing. When I tried to explain about his life, I found the sadness more than I could bare and the tears would not stop. I can relate to his story and the life that he has led. If there is such a thing as soul mates we just might be.
I understand so much where his heart is, yes he is an animal, but he has a soul and a family and I want to make things different for him. I wish that in a second I could give him all the things that humans have taken away from him.
Tilikum has been abused and hurt his entire life. He was always kept in small cramped places. Food was often withheld. He was put in pens with whales that abused and beat him up and yet he kept breathing kept performing. He would have teeth marks all over him from other whales and people saw and knew about them but they did not one thing to help him. People have known that he is not doing well and have done nothing to make his life better. For me I was abused and hurt my entire life. I never wanted to be around people, they were always hurting me, taking what they wanted then looking the other way. People saw things about my life and did nothing. People refused to see what was going on, and I was the one that had to suffer the consequences, Just as Tilikum is.
He has a family, that is still out there, and if they heard him even this many years later they would recognize him and welcome him. Me I don't have a family anymore, and maybe that is why its so important to me that he find his. After the life that he has had he deserves peace and waves. He deserves to be back home. A family is like I said that feelings of belonging and unconditional love that only they can give. For me I am pretty sure its lost, but I can hope that someday he finds his.
We are different, Tilikum and I. We long for things that we can't have. I will never stop fighting for him to get to be free and swim with his family, And for me I will never stop fighting to make sure that people don't have to experience life the way that I have. I have always said I wish just for one day you could see and experience the world the way that I do, I think it would change the way that you do everything in life. When freedom is taken away you have to learn to see things different to survive. So we survive and we pay the price. I hope that in my lifetime, I see him back in the ocean where he is supposed to be. And I hope in my lifetime, I can learn to live again. Here's to never giving up, and always fighting for what is right, what is true and what is just. Even when our hearts are falling to pieces.
Sometimes I still find it amazing that I made it through the court system of our country. It was like pushing rocks up hill that's for sure. Everything was a battle from beginning to end. This is for those that said I did it for attention, this is for those that said they did not believe me. This is for all those people that said I was pressing charges because I wanted attention. This to let you know what its like. The people involved, detectives, attorneys are nice, well some of them but the questions they ask are brutal. Some want every detail known to man, others are kind enough and do not make you repeat the words again. My detective was kind and the only reason that I even made it almost two years was because of him. But, I just couldn't do it anymore and said a plea was fine. I wanted it over, I wanted it to go away. I did it to keep Angela safe, and that is the only reason ...
Here is How it came to be................
Well it was a visit to Boston. I was going to see my uncle Dennis. I am not sure how the trip came about really. But I was going to go and I was more than excited. I remember that I wrote him a letter, and he wrote back and we did that a few times then I was on my way. I think I was just wanting to connect with family. Dennis said that people were telling him to be careful that I wanted something, but really I didn't want a thing, I just wanted connection. My past was an issue I mean I was beating the crap out of myself at night. I would wake up with bruises all over my legs and scratches up and down my arms, but I wasn't dealing with anything, I was at that time doing my best to pretend that I was fine, that everything was just fine. I got there late at night and the resemblance to my father was unbelievable. Even how they drove the car, it was a little shocking really. I wasn't talking to my father since the divorce and it was very surreal. He had the Boston attitude, and the F bombs were always an essential part of a conversation. I loved being there being in his house. There was deer in the backyard, it was beautiful really. I took my shower that first morning and came down stairs my hair still wet...We were just sitting talking about everything and nothing.... and then out of the blue he asked.......Did your father ever do anything to you ? Did he hurt you ? I was in shock, there were so many thoughts flooding my head and I was more than overwhelmed. It was one of those times when in a single second you can ignore all that is going on in your life and a matter of seconds it all comes flooding back. And the tears started and I said but Dennis, no one knows. My heart is so heavy, that moment when I realized someone else knew. And he said you weren't the only one. The feelings are so many and go to such extremes, when you live your life trying to hide something so awful and a person you have not seen since you were 4 tells you that you are not the only one its heavy, its a relief its freeing but its also terrifying. And we sat there and talked and he had been abused by my father when they were younger. I don't remember much of the conversation, my heart was overwhelmed, I didn't want this to be truth, I didn't want this to be my life.
While I was there there was a lot of talk about my father, there were a lot of memories, lots of nightmares, lots of things that I didn't want to think about. We were finding out information that my father was going to be a crossing guard, that he was remarried that she had a young daughter, there were so many pieces that were falling right into my lap and I was unprepared for all of them. I was in a dark place trying to survive and my uncle was in a dark place trying to ignore, trying to blow everything off. My other uncle Danny came over with his children, my cousins and it was very different. The life that they live is something different and strange. Everything is funny everything is a big joke. We were all standing in the kitchen and started talking about Bob, and we said how he had gotten remarried and she had a daughter and Danny, laughed and said oh that's one more for him to poke. I was in shock, I could not believe that something so serious was something so funny to them. I was crying so hard I couldn't breathe, and they kept laughing saying I was overreacting, and that I didn't know that was true. But yet it came from their mouths and he abused all three of us that were standing in that kitchen two were joking, it was funny, me I was devastated that yet another little girl might know my father the way that I did. My two uncles live in this world where the past is in the past and that's that. They worry about themselves and nothing else. I lived in a place where my heart was broken and I wanted to be able to fix it. I worried about everyone and wanted to keep everyone safe. It was a whirlwind of a week, things I learned that I never expected, things I wish that I didn't know but you can't unthink , unhear, or unexperience things and I was going to have to live with it.
So I came home to Texas with everything in the front of my brain, my father was a monster it wasn't just me anymore, he even abused his own brothers and there was another little girl that I couldn't stop thinking about. I wanted to save her, keep her safe from my father. I was a rape crisis counselor at the time and I spoke with them asked what I could do. And their answer was pressing criminal charges.
This was such a dark time, I found his house saw her little pink bike and I was convinced that I had to do something. I had to make sure that there was justice, I had to make sure that he didn't ever hurt another living person. Memories and feelings were flooding; my heart and I were trying to do school, and work and do it all and it wasn't quite working, but there was a fight, that fight that I have never lost and I kept going.
I was working with the rape crisis center in Plano and they offered have me speak with the detective that worked cases in Plano, to see if I would even have a case. The legal advocate offered to go with me so I wouldn't have to go alone. So the first appointment was made, to speak up and talk to a detective. I got an email the advocate was going to be unable to go so once again I was on my own surprise surprise. His name was David. He was kinds gruff. Asked why I wanted to do this. We were in this little interrogation room and I was scared to death. I spilled my guts while he asked all the necessary questions and everything that I had tried so hard to forget came out,came crashing out and all the gross and disgusting rolled right off my tongue. I didn't at all think about the impact on me my thoughts were on that little girl, Angela, and her little pink bike and I had to save her, I had to make it better for her. The detective was not very personable, a little cold, and he went on saying that he would make me take a lie detector test, I said whatever its going to take. I had nothing to hide.....He said that I needed to go to the city where it happened, and that is where I needed to press charges.
I called the police station, and said that I wanted to press charges on my father and I asked what I needed to do. She kinda laughed like it was a joke said I needed to come in. With tears streaming and my heart pounding I said OK, thanked her and asked when they were open. She was gruff and laughed said someone was always there. To her it was a joke, and I hung up. I stood in my room not believing what I was going to do but never thinking, I knew that this was the right thing to do. And later that night I went to the police station to file a report.
It was the same woman that I spoke to on the phone that was there at the window. I am sure she could tell that I had been crying, and I said I am Sherri Callahan I spoke with you earlier I need to make a report. Her attitude changed, she realized that I was serious and she told me to have a seat. The commotion in the back was crazy, it was like they didn't have a clue what to do with me. There was all this talk about finding a female officer to take the report, and I just sat there tears streaming, I knew that this was big, and that it wasn't going to be my secret anymore. There were many officers that kept peering around the corner, like I was some kind of alien. Finally a female officer came and took me into a big meeting room. It was more than messy and disorganized, maybe that was good it gave me something to concentrate on. There was this police chatter all around and I was the topic. Even they were doubting and they didn't even know my story. Of all people the should have understood the seriousness of what I was doing.
I only remember certain parts of that night I was on automatic pilot, tell them what they need to know, don't feel just do it. We have to do this to keep her safe. The officer was pretty young. She was nervous and unsure of herself. She even tried to talk me out of pressing charges, she said that she had been abused and she forgave the person. I honestly didn't care, I was angry that she was trying to talk me out of it. It wasn't like I woke up and thought oh I think I will spill my guts and press charges on my father, I knew that this was big, this was serious and very necessary. So she said she would be right back and you could hear them all talking in the hall, well why is she doing this now, what are the details, they were not kind, not caring. She came back in the room with papers for me to write out my statement. And I spent hours writing about the abuse, what he had done. And I cried and wrote some more, waited until I could see the paper again, then wrote some more. This was as real as it gets. It wasn't my secret anymore. She came in and checked and I gave it to her, my statement, she read it over, asked more questions, how many times how long, what parts, blah blah, I just answered with out thinking, this was necessary to keep her safe. She said that a detective would be getting back with me in a few days. And it had begun. I had written my statement. I survived the police station.
I remember getting in my car and the song "Hands" was on by Jewel and I balled my eyes out. It was easier keeping things inside then getting them all out. I was a live in nanny at the time, and I remember standing in the middle of my room, feelings as if everything was spinning and crying. It was like everything in the world had stopped and there was nothing but the past and I. This was not going to be easy this was not the picture I wanted to have of life. I didn't have a clue what was ahead of me. I knew for sure that I was on my own, I knew this was going to be a fight and I knew that I wasn't at all prepared for what was going to happen.
The next day, I got the call from Det. PLemmons. He was amazing he asked how I was. He said "Are you OK ?" am I OK ? what do you mean, I didn't have a clue, I just knew that I was doing the right thing . He explained the process a little said to call him if I had any questions. He was the kindest man, he always listened to me, always took my calls and explained things over and over when I was in a panic about what was going to happen next. Over the next few months there were doing their investigating, talking to people trying to get information together, trying to make a case. And finally it went to the grand jury to see if we even had enough evidence if there was even going to be a case. The crime was aggravated sexual assault of a child a first degree felony with a sentence of up to 99 years. And right away it was a true bill meaning there was enough evidence for my case and it would go to the Da's office and there would be justice, they were going to persecute my father for what he had done. Then came all the meetings with the attorney's. I can remember once sitting in a room with 4 of them and they were all asking me questions and they asked if my father was the only one, and of coarse no and I told them about the others. I told them all about Albert and the tadpoles and cried until I needed to take a break. I felt broken and the only reason that I was crying was because I couldn't save the tadpoles not because of the rapes. When a person is going through it , it seems so surreal, and I was doing at all on my own there was no one to talk to to cry. I had started at UNT. I was a live in nanny taking night classes and going through the court system.
I went to tell my brother, he laughed said you can't press charges on someone for being an ass-hole and nothing else was ever said. I only told my mother because detectives were going to be calling her. She wasn't there when i was little I had no hope she was going to be here now.
I almost didn't even have a case because of the statute of limitations, and I had to write more statement about times when I was older and what had occurred. So, my case was covered. I was living but not alive, I was more than a mess but no one seemed to notice. After almost two years the court date was set and we were getting ready for trial. They were making their witness lists and getting everyone prepared. They called my uncle to ask him to testify, and in true Callahan fashion he said that if they made him come and testify he would make my father look like a "fucking saint" on the stand. Yea, that is support. There were meetings sitting in a room with lots of chairs along the wall. And my mother and brother were there and the DA asked me a specific question about what he had done and I froze...I mean my brother and mother were right there. They said nothing pretended everything was fine and I answered her question. I was more than ashamed , answering their questions was easier than having my own family hear what he had done. I was on my own, they didn't ask how I was, make sure that I was OK. It was in those last few weeks that things were more than terrible. I was exhausted, there was nothing left of me, no support I was done. I remember the DA taking me to the court room where my case would be heard. She was telling me where everyone would be sitting where I would be, where he would be. And my knees went weak, this was a real courtroom, where my story was going to be heard. I remember it being dark, and honestly I wanted to close my eyes and wake up and it all be over. There was nothing left of me, nothing.
Then the day of the trial, I didn't have to be ready to go until later, since I was basically just a witness and they called asked what I thought about a plea. Without a thought I said yes, I was done, I just wanted it over. And that is what they did, offered a plea, everything was the same only he wouldn't have to register as a sex offender, it was a lesser included offence. Nothing changed yes he did those things but was charged with something less and got probation. I remember when I got the call that my brother was lying on the floor watching TV and didn't say a word to me. And my mother gave me a hug saying "oh I am so glad that its over". And I kinda laughed, its over, its over it was like it was an out of body. She didn't have a clue. This was not about her, this was about me. And we never said anything else about it ever. It was not even near over. She never talked to me about it, never asked me what he did never asked if I was OK , it was just over. At least for her, it was.
I was a mess, I thought I did this to keep her safe, now it was only probation not even jail time. Until he couldn't follow probation and ended up doing almost a year in jail. Not even 365 days for what he did, better than nothing though. And I found his mug shot he looked scared and there was a part of me that felt bad for him, and during that time his wife brought the little girl to see him. Once he was released, they ended up moving to Boston.
And I don't know how but I was still concerned for her and there were allegations of abuse against my father towards her, She was maybe 5 and I offered to do what I could to help keep her safe. I ended up contacting people, letting them know about my case here in Texas and told them I would do whatever I could to help. I don't remember all the little details, I was still in crash and burn mode after my case ending, but I had to fight for that little girl. I spoke with the attorney. I spoke to anyone who would hear me really. I had to go to Boston once and my amazing friend Cheryl came with me, and as it turned out I didn't have to testify but I met Dianne and I finally got a picture of that little girl that I had been fighting for. I knew who Dianne was as soon as she walked in the building. There was a connection with her right from the start. I met Sam her attorney and he was the kindest man. He met me early in the morning at the hotel to ask some questions, go over testimony. He was another man that made sure that I was OK. He asked if we needed to go somewhere more private. He was concerned with my well being and that felt amazing. He was sorry for the questions he had to ask, and worried about my heart. I didn't end up testifying. Then a few months later, they asked if I was available to come and how could I possibly say no. So again I went to Boston this time on my own. I was scared to death. This was the real thing, this time I had to testify. I was scared , it hurt to breath, I worried that I would feel too much, I worried that I wouldn't remember what was my left hand or my right to put it on the bible the little things that take up space in your mind when you are that afraid. I sat in that hall all day, seeing people that were there for Angela, her foster mom, her case workers, so many people. Her mother standing in the hall reading a book. Her rights are going to be terminated and she is reading a book. Then after waiting and time standing still and waiting some more they called me into the court room. It is never anything that you imagine, the fear was huge, his wife was in the room and was going to hear it all. Everything that my father had put me through. I was going to be cross-examined, and questioned and questioned some more. It was rough really rough. That is another post all in itself, for in a few days. But it was hard, the hardest thing I have ever had to do ever. But I knew that it was to keep another little girl from going through what I did so it was worth it. Once I needed a break and i made it to the restroom , I got sick, I couldn't breathe and Dianne came in and asked if I needed a hug. I think I was on my way before she even asked. My heart was broken. It was unimaginable how I felt, and the questions that they ask are crazy ? Are you a virgin, do you have a boyfriend? Didn't you do this because your parents were getting divorced, so many questions, I did the best that I could.
I spent the afternoon and that night on zanax, trying to keep everything together, keep the feelings away. I hoped that I made a difference and that my testimony would make a difference but I didn't know for sure. I didn't pray but I was prying that I made a difference, that she would be safe. I flew back to Dallas the next day, and of coarse I had to pretend that everything was fine. There was no one to make sure that I was OK. As far as the people here were concerned it was all over. For my heart it was not. For people to think I just wanted attention makes me so angry. NO person would ever willingly go through the court system it is not kind and not supportive. It is cold and cruel and with everything else that I survived, I had survived the court system.
I completely understand why a person would choose to keep quiet and if it was only me I never would have said another word. But it wasn';t just me it was my two uncles it was me , my brother and then Angela and it had to stop. I had to be the one to make sure that he stopped. A few years ago I received two letters from him. He wanted to have a family picnic, get together . He was a new creation and that he thought we would like his girlfriend. That was not going to happen. I contacted the police in his town I told them about my pressing charges and that I wanted nothing to do with him. They were amazing I wanted to make sure that they knew that I wasn';t being mean there just wasn't anything in me, to mess with him. He said that he completely understood that he was abused as a child and was completely understanding.
That was the last interaction that I have had with anything dealing with the law. I have spoken with my detective a few times thanking him for his kindness. And I have contact with Sam who was Angela's attorney. Its all surreal, amazing to be past it. I wish that there was a better outcome, I wish that he got time in prison, but I know that I did all I could. I know that I did the right thing. And someday someway I will even recover from the court system.
Its funny I was writing this for those people that didn't believe me, that said I was trying to get attention but its not those people that will even read this if anyone does. But for those of you who do read this, know how incredibly hard that this was, and be very gentle.
I guess that is what we all try not to do; is carry the weight of the world on our shoulders. I mean life gets messy and people have terrible things happen ALL...THE...TIME. Its that some things are shareable and some are not. Some things are talked about some things are not. Some things are out in the open and some things are not. There are some things that happen and people are there and show comfort and concern; then there are things that people stay away from with a ten foot pole.
Sexual Assault is something that people stay away from with a ten foot pole, not only the subject but often the people affected.
So today is April first and Today begins Sexual Assault Awareness Month. Today and this month I ask that you be aware, that you lend an ear, that you show concern for something very real and very hurtful, and damaging and something that happens more often than we would all like to admit. I ask that you don't turn away but give us a hug, we are dying for one, I promise. We often think we are vile and gross let us know that we are not. We think that we are scarred for life, tell us that we are not. Laugh with us tell us a joke.....Make us laugh some more. Let me cry, sometimes it may be oceans but just let me cry. Just be there...... sometimes we may want to talk, sometimes we may not either way just be. You can not make it better, make it go away but you can help in healing. Ask me a question if its on your mind, we might not be able to answer but we just might and help you understand; we would be grateful just for you asking. We are still people just like you and for someone to hear us, not just listen but to hear is a gift. Sometimes we don't have a clue what we want but we know that we don't want to do it alone either. I do take this to heart because I have been there, I have survived my entire life and because I am still fighting my way back. I have met people that have been assaulted that go on with their life and do great things. I have met people that can not get past what has happened to them at all. And I have met people that have had unimaginable things happen that continue to smile and thrive everyday. Each journey is different and each one should be respected. I think for me as a survivor, I am trying to figure out how to turn my past into something that is not a burden. That is what I want more than anything and that is something that is so much easier said than done. I have always wanted to do something like "take back the night" and stand in front of others and say this is what happened to me, this is how I have made it and this is how I am doing today. I have yet to do that..... maybe someday but for me and my past it was always my burden to carry. And we can help each other so others don't have to carry this burden alone. People should not have to carry this alone but many do. There is some research that said the more real help and support that a person is able to get right away, the faster the healing process. I didn't have those people until I was well into my twenties; so my healing has taken a great long while, but I am doing it now and I will never stop or ever ever give up fighting, life is too precious. I don't even know if I will ever get to that place that I long for but I know with all that I am I WILL NOT GIVE UP.
From the time that I was five this was my burden to carry. There was not people to keep me safe, not people to tell me that I was not the one that had done anything wrong. There were not people on my side to make me feel better to give me a safe hug. To let me cry when I had been violated. To let me talk about the things that were happening or had happened. For me this month is more than personal; I was always that person that no one wanted to go near with a ten foot pole. So I took that pole as my own and try to keep people away, then I can't be hurt. This is more than personal for me, I want to make sure that people don't feel the things that I have felt. For me, and my story I will never move away or blame the survivor, I will not question her story, because I know that those are the things that hurt beyond measure. So since my sexual assaults started at 5 , what was happening affected my entire world. EVERTHING EVERYTHING EVERYTHING. I didn't even a have a sense of myself or the world around me but I knew that people were cruel violent and mean. I knew that there was no one that was going to keep me safe, I knew that in my world I was alone, so I stayed in my world and did what I had to do to survive. The things I made it through still shock me, and to come out where I am and still be a living breathing person is unbelievable some days. There was my father, the neighbor, the gang rape at thirteen and the subsequent rapes then the conception of my children. When I say it happened my entire life, I mean it with all that I am. I sometimes say one rape I could have handled, but so many times in one life, I just do not understand. And in no way am I saying that one rape is any less, it is not. I am just saying that for my life, only one rape would have been a blessing People were always using me, and I for so very long believed that this was my life, these are the things that are meant to happen.
With things that people have said....I believed I was at fault. I was taught to believe that what was happening to me was my burden to carry and that I should carry it alone. Others words were more than hurtful and they stick, and they can't be taken back because once they are heard they can never be unheard.
I remember saying something about Albert the neighbor to someone who lived right in the house behind him and, they said "who you ?" And I was silent. And I sank in shame. I told the youth group leader that I was raped, she asked if we should get a pregnancy test then told everyone that I was lying I just wasn't showing enough emotion. Her words were like knives " I was the unpopular chubby kid who would want to do that to me"....and I remained silent. I was assaulted and got pregnant, and a woman said I did it on purpose. My heart melted, this was my life. I entered the police station to make a report and officers were accusing asking why am I doing this now ? I stood up in court to protect children from my father, people said I was just dragging around the past, again I was looking for attention. I went to Boston testified alone and people had the nerve, a priest had the nerve to say that he didn't believe me, anyway. People were disbelieving and cruel my entire life and that goes with out any saying.
There were also a handful of amazing people that, held my hand even after they knew all that had happened , there were people who treated me with the utmost respect and listened to the terrible stories, there were the detectives, that asked if I was OK. The ones that were there were also the ones that came and went, stayed long enough to change my heart, to hold my heart for a time then left. There was one year in August when the anniversary was coming up when I had the most amazing day at the zoo and my heart was taken care of for that day. Those things are few and far between, but those are the same things that have kept my heart going.
We all have a story to tell and mine is just different than yours not worse, not better just mine. Many others have a story to tell and its our job to listen. From my life experiences I don't see what you see, I don't share what you share, I don't even experience life the way that you do. But I can tell you with my whole heart, that I will always make a difference, I will always care I will always do anything that I can to care for a persons heart. I have heard and experienced the hurtful words and actions and I will do everything in my power to make sure that others are not forgotten, that others are not treated unkindly.
This year, this April first I am further than I have ever been in my healing. But I know that I still have a ways to go. But I know that I will never stop fighting, never stop trying to recover some of what was lost. There is no possible way to get it all back but I will come as close to humanly possible as I know how to be whole someday. I know that in sharing my story , hopefully someone will hear and will make a difference for someone else. I can not go back to when I was five and make it better but I can make it a better world for other little ones today. There is no way to change how things went for me, But I can change things for others today. This day. Today.
I am more than grateful to those on my journey that have gotten me this far in healing, Sam, Det. Plemmons, Jason, James, Carrie, Christy, me. I am proud that I have come so far and know that there is a light at the end of the tunnel and hopefully in sharing whether on my blog, or in school , in life I hope that I can be one of those people that make a difference, a very real difference. I want so much for people to understand me and where I am coming from ! I have a story to tell and I won't stop telling until attitudes change. Its just so hard to put words to sometimes. There are so many things that I want others, that I want you to understand. Its the little things that matter, the little things that make the biggest difference. And YOU, can be that difference for someone, I will not promise that it will be easy, but it will be more than worth it. Make a difference for a someone this month, and always. Heart their heart for even a short time and that will never be forgotten. I heart your heart.
