Stitches in the ceiling

Each rape that has occurred in my life has been just another stitch in the ceiling. I couldn't face what was happening to me, and very early I learned to check out, to float to the ceiling and go away in my head until they were done and got what they wanted. And to be honest ,I kind of still live there. There have been a lot of stitches, and those are the stitches that I have to cut and come back to the land of the living. I am not present I am not here a lot of the time, I live there, on the ceiling watching life from afar trying not to get too close to those things that hurt my heart. I see the pictures in my head of the past most of the time, but I see them far away, and I know its me but it just hurts so much so I keep them very far away. And the problem is, they are always there, coming back as nightmares and flashbacks and I just don't want to live like that anymore. As much as its going to hurt, I am sure its going to open new doors.

So I have realized and am working on the fact that I am terrified to come down and face the world, face the things that have happened . I am scared to be a part, scared that I will be judged, scared that I will feel all the weight of the hell I have survived. And I know a lot of people are not going to understand, and think I am crazy and you would be right. Maybe I seem a little crazy, but you have not lived my life, and there is no way for you to understand. Its amazing the things that your mind does to keep you safe. For me things were so crazy, floating on the ceiling was the best option; that is what I had to do. I see the pictures and can sometimes write them down or talk about them in the third person. But I have to learn that there were oh so many feelings that go with those pictures and staying on the ceiling ignoring them is not doing me any good. I have to acknowledge the pictures, as me, feel the things I couldn't feel and know that I am ok. I have already survived the worst, I am still living still breathing. Those things are not happening anymore, I am strong and I have to make that my new everyday.

Last week I hurt my wrists again in the shower, because in my brain the shower is dangerous, bad terrible unthinkable things happen and I can still after all this time feel Don's hands. In my head I know he is not in the shower, I am safe , I am not the Victim that I was but that tells you how easy it is for my head to remember what has happened, my head Is still fighting. My head is still fighting a battle that is long over. That is what I have to fight, that is no longer my story anymore. It happened it was hellish it scarred me, but at the same time. Somehow someway I survived. I didn't die when honestly I could have, even should have. BUT I DID NOT. There has to be a reason, that I made it that I am fighting my way back to life. There has t be a reason for this life that I have lived.
　

Through this process there have been realizations that have literally taken my breath away. I can remember sitting with my detective and him talking to me asking questions. And I was talking about the first time that I remember my father doing anything. And I always said in my head ,I just kept thinking that it was ok, because he just thought I was my mother . Its ok he is touching me, he just thinks that I am my mom. When he realizes its me he will stop. Then Det Plemmons says, don't you think he knew the difference between the body of a five year old and the body of a woman ? And the world stopped, I was in my early twenties that thought had never crossed my mind, he knew what he was doing ? HE KNEW it was me ??? Absolutely a knife though my heart, I never thought of that, never. As devastating as the thought is, in time it sank in and it’s a realization that stings, but at the same time I was ready to hear it. It may have been a baby step, that you don’t think is a big deal but it was a step that I needed to acknowledge and I will never ever forget that moment. And looking at my detective, trying to get my head around the fact that he knew it was me. These are the moments that I live all the time.

Another moment came years later. The nightmares were incredible and all the time, just violent, and my father was always lurking around every corner, I was always laying in bed and I always knew that he was waiting for his time to come down the hall and make his way to my room. I couldn't sleep thinking of the fact that I had to be prepared he was coming down the hall and he was going to hurt me take what he wanted and I had to be ready, well as ready as a five year old could be. And he said, But Sherri he isn't coming down the hall anymore. And I think my heart stopped. And he was more than kind, and said it again, that isn't happening anymore, he is not coming down the hall. A moment that stops everything…..that is where my head went every single night….trying to keep myself safe being prepared, being ready for what was going to come ……But I wasn't that scared little girl anymore, in my head I was waiting for a threat that was long gone. My life was like that for so long, and things were so rough for such a long period of time my head learned to live there and I have to learn a different way to think. I have to be able to see that today I am safe and sound and Yes my father knew exactly what he was doing. But I am also not that scared little girl I am not that tough little girl trying to carry the weight of the world. Things have been said at just the right time, exactly when I needed to hear them. And there are many things for me to learn. There are many things that I still have to accept but I have to be willing to hear them at the same time. Along this winding healing journey of mine there have been things that stand out and I get angry that I don't realize things sooner, or notice things before but I just haven't been ready. My ears are open and my heart is ready. It's time.

As I begin to jump in again and prepare to come off the ceiling and truly live life, I am terrified, I am more than afraid. I know that is more than hard , I know this is going to hurt like hell and it sure won't be pretty. I know that it is not going to be easy, not going to be fast but I also know that it is necessary. I am missing out on life living on the ceiling and yes I can assure you its safer, it’s been a lot of things but at what cost to me ? The cost is far to great, for my heart for my mind for my soul. It's time, time to change the things that no longer serve a purpose for me. It's time.

 

 

I am sure that this is going to be rough, but no one ever said living life stitched to the ceiling was easy, Right ?!? So here's to the next leg of my journey, lets hope my heart will make it, I am quite terrified. But also quite Hopeful.

I heart your heart