The granny who cried wolf

The granny who cried wolf , that is all that I can think of. In summer school yesterday we read the book the little boy who cried wolf and OMG !  It made sense and was so fitting for the situation and I don't mean to make light or seem uncaring but when something is always wrong and there are always more and more Dr appointments, and then the ones that I am not even told about. Like another cortisone shot today how many months after surgery !!!!!  I can not take care of her.  I am really struggling. I don't want to be the bad daughter but when she wants to do something there is no problem.  Like another cruise that she is taking in October, not asking bout dates or anything, no consideration for anyone else?? The self- centerness, is more than hard to live with.   Yea I do not understand.  So I am not going to take time off to take her to appointments,  My job is too important, and I will not do it.  I am going to take my days to any more DR appointments.  I love her but the things that she does her actions, the things that she does like when I was growing p make things more than difficult.   and I would never ever make this decision again.  So very selfish and I am done,  it makes me more than sad and I don't at all understand. Nothing is enough and I have no more to give.  She complains about money all the time then goes the store buts what she and Vincent eats then eats what I have.  Borrows money goes shopping.  Borrows more money from a friend because she said she doesn't want her to worry. How about you not go to the store until you get paid ?  And medicine,  there are many times that she takes too much medicine.  She will make every excuse,  but when your mouth hangs open and you can not carry on a conversation that is not tired, that is drug stupor and I can not even tell you how terrible that is.  So many things that she does remind me of the house that I grew up in and I more than hate it.  The lying the keeping secrets, pretending that everything is fine when the house is on fire.  She puts Vincent into situations telling him not to tell me and that just isn't ok.  I have worked more than hard on creating a house with out those things and she brings them in with-out a thought.  That is her normal.  Well news flash it is not mine and when she does those things it hurts my heart .  I am not even sure that she sees a problem with the things that she did while I was growing up and doing those same things with her grandchildren id beyond unbearable.  She treas Vincent like a king, and makes sure that she is on Mariska for every little thing that she does.  It;s more than frustrating and I don't get it.  She treats them so different.  Mariska can clean the entire kitchen and n acknowledgment, Vincent will after 12 times asking him will bring up the trash and gets a gold star.  Exactly the same kind of things that I grew up with.  I feel like I am stuck between a rock and a hard place. She is not so old and complains about her health all the time. There is ALWAYS something wrong !!!  She wants recognition all the time for anything and I don't understand that. Clean the kitchen thank you, but I am not going to do cartwheels. Mariska and I clean it all the time and get nothing, we do it because when you have a house and you make a mess you clean it up. 

I want to be 44 and living in my house and feel relaxed. Feel at peace and do the things that make me happy.  I don't feel like I can do that.  I don't even get to sit in my chair and take a nap most of the time. I don't want to be told what to do and questioned all the time.  I want to be 44 and make my own decisions ans live my own life.  I want to support my own family in every way and live life to its fullest.  I want to continue to heal my own heart, and when you live with someone who cries wolf its more than hard to care for your own heart. It's truly an uphill battle, that I keep fighting.  Does it always have to be uphill for me ??

I heart your heart     

Once again I don't have the words

Because there is so many emotions that are so unimaginable He planned it all, he planned it , HE PLANNED IT 

dont know what you don't know

I don't even know what it is that I am going to write. There are so many things inside my head and I know that my brain moves much faster than my hand.  I am sad, I am hurt I want to curl up in a ball and scream at the world to stop until I can figure things out until my heart doesn't hurt anymore. I am sad that I am always forgotten I am sad that I don't mean enough for people to check on me.  Today I feel the weight of that little 5 year old and I am afraid.  My heart hurts.  Today I finally watched Off The Record and ...I am not sure that I have the right words to express what that meant for me.  As hard as it was I would give anything to be back in that room with those people and just be me. To cry and to feel and to share and to be valued.  Just be able to share and to cry and to ask questions.  Just to feel like I wasn't alone.  I wasn't alone in that room, they were all there carrying the weight of the things that my father had done to me, I for once wasn't carrying it all alone.  Those people were my witness to all that was and all the things that should not have been.  They were there, they heard my heart and were angered by the way I was treated; the things that happened .  There were a few moments I looked up and there were tears in everyone's eyes and I felt like what happened to me mattered.  They were sad, they wished that things were different they could see the hurt little girl and how she deserved so much more out of life. They were proud of the choices that I made to keep little Angela safe.  I felt all of those things that day while we were filming.  Those people were there in my hurt and they didn't run away they didn't think less of me, and they wanted to do things differently.  I miss that feeling every single day.

When we got back to the hotel room, Neil wasn't able to stay and he took my face in his hands and with tears in his eyes thanked me and told me how brave that I was.  Because I hate my face, its dirty and unclean and gross and he cared enough and took my face ever so gently into his hands and I leaned in, I was safe, and that comfort from a man is something I have never known.  that moment meant the world and will stay with me forever.  I gave him a hug and I didn't want to let go.  I didn't want to loose the feelings of the day, and I said goodbye.  I was crying more than hard as I walked into the hotel lobby and I remember crying out why couldn't I have had a nice dad like that, I watched him drive away .  I couldn't breathe and I couldn't talk.  There were sounds that I am not sure were human I felt such a loss for all the things that I didn't have.  I knew I was a woman but I wanted to hold on and beg him not to go. I just went upstairs trying to fit all that had happened into my head .  I had never in my life felt so cared for.  These people were something special.  This people knew my heart and were going to take care of it .     

And my sweet friend Valerie.  She was so genuine,  so real.  She talked to me like no one had. She had an understanding that I had never experienced. Sometimes you can't put a relationship to words and that is her.  She was everything, she took care of me, she gave me advice she told me things that I needed to hear.  She listened and heard.  She was my voice, she was everything that I needed.  She was careful with my heart and made sure that it was taken care of.  The first second that she thought it wasn't she was right there to make things right.  She will forever be my dear friend.  She never forgets me and always sends that message that hello and lets me know that I am important that I am cared for. She loves me just for me no strings attached. She is the person that I have needed all my life. 

I know from them I learned that its OK to get back up.  I am still learning from every interaction with them.  They have said that I am a part of the family and that doesn't go away.  The family that I never felt that I had, not for me.  They are everything and I so look forward to the day, to see them again to be in their presence, to laugh to cry to be held.  They are everything I ever needed . I can only imagine that is what it would be like if I had grown up in a family being able to feel those good things.  I am grateful they made me feel valued and important.  I mattered the things that happened to me mattered. So on this hard day , they are remembered and I will forever hold them in my heart.  

I heart your Heart.  

More Little Girl Speak

“PTSD is like having a body that wants to swim, and a mind that wants to drown.”

-Little girl speak

You glimmer with the hope of the future, even though you wear the scars of your past. You say you don’t feel free, but baby girl you’re a wounded healer. It’s time for you to sing, cause that heart inside you ain’t beat it’s last.”
-Little girl speak

“And I will rid myself of this darkness you’ve given to me. I swear it on my life. I will erase it from my heart. I’ll write word after word, until it’s no longer inside of me. And nothing can stop me from owning my story; from penning my pain, into art.”
-Little girl speak

“You lit a match and you set her childhood on fire, burning up all her hope; every shred of innocence she possessed. But she’s not gonna lay down and take it. She’ll never say that it’s over. Oh no, she’s gonna win this war. She’s hell bent on defeating you. You will never snuff out the strength that’s inside her. There is fight within her yet.”
-Little girl speak

You broke me.
There is no denying it.
You left me for dead; an empty shell in human skin
And for as long as I can remember
I hated myself for it
I truly believed ; that
That was why I existed
That I was only made to be abused
But through every painful moment of healing
I finally came to realize
That I was created to Bloom

~Little Girl Speak

Autobiography in Five short Chapters

I heard this poem for the first time on Tuesday night and the tears came quick, and wrecked me. Once again I feel as if I am in this huge black hole that I have worked so hard to get out of, and yet here I am again.  I get more than frustrated with myself, and feel that a huge bat would be a better option.  It seems that I am a slow learner and hold on to things as if my life depended on them. I hold on for dear life to people, to things, to the terrible awful and My heart my heart still hurts.   I don't feel for the person, that little innocent girl that was so hurt, Why can't I get that.  I hold little Callahan to standards that even adults can't live up too. I get so frustrated that all the trauma all those awful things live in my bones.  They are as much a part of my everyday as breathing!!!!  Picture Central Expressway.....I am in the middle and as fast as the cars are speeding by going to work and living life,  the other side replays the things that have happened to me. It's all that clear ALL.....THE.....TIME..... and both sides of the highway are clear as can be and as confusing as you can imagine.Honestly if I could just merge them you know.  Then I could move forward live my life and then on the days when things get heavy and they stare me down there would be energy to take care of them then move on.  It's the constant memory , the constant pictures, the constant fear that exhaust me.

I

I walk down the street

there is a deep hole in the sidewalk

I fall in 

I am lost.....I am helpless

It isn't my fault

It takes me forever to find my way out.

II

I walk down the same street

there is a deep hole in the same sidewalk

I pretend that I don't see it 

I fall in again

I can't believe I am in the same place

but it isn't my fault

It still takes time to get out

III

I walk down the same street 

There is a deep hole in the sidewalk

I see it is there.....I still fall in it's a habit

my eyes are open

I know where I am

it is my fault

I get out immediately

IV

I walk down the same street

There is a deep hole in the sidewalk

I walk around it

V

I walk down another street 

I am trying more than hard to figure out where I am.  I think that I am stuck somewhere between chapter two and three.  There are days I totally feel like I am in the second chapter and then there are times like I feel like I am in the third.  I want more than anything just to feel better to let go.  To have some worth.  I hold on to the things that have happened thinking well if I did have worth why in the world would so many people hurt me so badly.  I have the hardest time grasping that. In my head it makes sense, I understand I was little that I didn't want any of those things.  In my head I hear that and think yes.  Then this heart of mine, feels so much less than.  My heart doesn't feel worthy. My mind doesn't feel worthy and my body feels more than worthless..  I struggle with all of the things in my head and trying to see beyond them and find my worth.  Worth is such a strange thing,  and for me seems so out of reach.  I can see my worth in the outside things, being a teacher, being a mom.  But yet the inside things; the things that I carry in my heart those are things that I feel have made me unworthy.  Unworthy of everything, love, friendship, all of it.  I am the one that everyone says that they like, that I am kind and people like to have around yet I am the one that is always forgotten.  I am the one that always likes more, always loves more and always gets forgotten more.  People always mean more to me than I ever mean to them and sometimes I want to be the favorite , I want to be the one that isn't forgotten.   I want to get to chapter 5 and it not to matter that I am forgotten.  I want the things that have happened to find their place and I want to be proud that I made it, I want to be proud of how far I have come and know how very hard that I worked to get there.   

I heart your heart. 

This is the day of the big pink elephant in the room

So many things that I wish for today. So many things that will never be said will never be spoken. I think about all of the dads that I know. Ones that have helped my heart ones that are no longer around. My own father that is nothing that a father should be.  I feel like today is one of those days when  there is a huge pink elephant in the room for me.  There is soo much meaning, yet no meaning at all. So many feelings and yet none of them will be acknowledged, or seen  none of them will be heard.  No one will call and see if I am OK. I will get no messages that anyone is thinking of me.  I will make excuses and that is fine but really it isn't.  I understand that people have their own families,  Me asking to be remembered is too much.  I understand that I am not important, that how this day affects me isn't important to anyone really and I just have to try and make the best out of the day. Even in my own home, nothing will be acknowledged.  Not one word will be spoken about my heart or my experiences of the day.

Even my own mother.  She will be working then is going to a cook out with her friend to celebrate father's day. I was asked if I wanted to go and yea that is not at all how I want to spend the day.  Better to be in my space and able to process where I am then being in another space and pretending all is well.  Believe me I am grateful for the time I will have in my house being able to just be me, I just wish that there was some acknowledgement of how I feel and what this day means to me.  I guess if no one in my house house acknowledges the day for me how can I expect anyone else that isn't in my family to acknowledge the day for me.

I have spent a few fathers day's with Amy and James and that meant the world then there are times, most times I don't hear from them at all.  I usually say happy father's day to James but this year I think why ?  I did last year and I got a Thanks you too.....but wait I am not a father, there was no acknowledgment of me.  I guess that is OK, no it i not ok but that is the way that it is, and it still hurts.  Once again my heart won't be acknowledged, by those that were my favorites that knew me better than anyone.

I wonder about Bob, does he think of us on this day does he think about the things that he has done does he get comforted by those that are around him because we are the terrible children that has kicked him out of their lives.  Does he cry?  Is he sorry does he wish that he did things different ? Does he think of the father's days when I would do everything in my power to make him feel special and supported and wanted does he remember those things ? Does he remember how much that I loved him and how hard that I tried t make him happy?  I want his heart to hurt today. I want his heart to hurt knowing that its because of the things that he choose to do to me before I had the chance to truly live that he is no longer in our lives, no longer a dad to anyone. The things I think about on this day are his funeral, wondering how I will find out, who will be there what will he look like, will I cry will I poke him making sure that he is truly dead.  Wondering if I will be able to make it, I can't even express the relief knowing that he will no longer be able to hurt anyone anymore.  I want to see him in a casket, and I want to pile the dirt myself.  I want to speak to the people that are there telling them the monster of a man that he is. I want to dance on his grave, giving my heart the freedom that it never had when he was alive.  I want to dance like no one is watching then fly to DC and be with my people, those that will hold me up as I cry in relief in pain and know that I can finally breathe.  Come back see Mark and be able to tell him all about it and the peace that I will feel, the freedom and the relief from the pain and breathe easy, hold little Callahan and tell her that its all over, she doesn't have to be afraid anymore. He is gone, hopefully in a place where he will suffer and hurt.  Those are the things that  I think on this day. On the way to work on Thursday I thought that I saw him behind me, and the feeling the entire day was awful, my heart was racing and I was more than scared.  Even after al this time even the thought of him being in a car next to me was absolutely terrifying.  I am not sure that I have shaken that feeling yet, it was so real and made me entire being want to fly away and never come back.

  For Vincent and Mariska I wonder what they think and feel about this day. Theirs is a different situation, and there are no rules on what to do.   I am going to take the time today and check on their hearts make sure they are in a good place.  I will acknowledge the day for them so that they know I am here if they need me.  Because what they are thinking and feeling is important . I want to acknowledge whatever it is that they might be feeling and just listen, hear their heart.  Even if they can't express I can just be and hold space for them because I can not imagine the things that they might think and feel.

A huge piece for me is the acknowledgement.  I am never acknowledged, on the hard days.  This day will be no different than all the others and it might hurt a little more that today Father's are to be celebrated. My heart is not seen in the everyday and I honestly don't know how to make that different.  If I don't have enough worth to be remembered and worthy on a normal day why would this day be any different. I just need others to make sure I am OK. On days like this there might always be a huge pink elephant in the room; in my heart; in everything because there is never any acknowledgement what so ever.

Lately I am trying to refocus and instead of the things that I don't want focus on what I do and I want to be acknowledged.  I want people to see me and know that I am not always ok. I want people to see me and make sure that I am OK.  I want to be important enough for someone to send a quick text telling me that they are thinking of me.  I want someone to ask if my heart is OK. I want someone to care enough to remember me.  Those are the things that I want those are the things that are obviously too much to ask for.

I heart your heart. 

Rear View Mirror

 I so struggle with this and am often not very kind to myself.  You know people say you can't keep looking back and that makes so much sense.  I hear those words and think of coarse!   I mean of coarse you are moving forward in life growing learning changing and I know that when you look at the things behind you all the time....there is a sense of being stuck of not being able to move forward in some ways.  I think one of my biggest fears is people telling me or even thinking that I am dwelling on all the things that have happened in my life.  That fear is more than HUGE. I don't want to be that poor me person sitting in the corner crying about the things that have happened. I don't want to be that person that is unable to move forward because they are so stuck in the past.  And at the same time I feel like there are things that are completely out of my control I want to run forward and do life; there are things that keep me exactly where I do not want to be and that is in the past.  My body; my physical body may be moving forward but my mind and my heart are still trying to survive and all they see is the hurt and the pain and the utter evil from the past and they are desperately trying to figure it out.  They struggle to keep up with the part that knows moving forward in life is such a necessity. But I feel so distant, like I am not even in my own skin sometimes, and that makes living in the present sometimes, always often very difficult.

I guess call it C-PTSD, PTSD  call it whatever you want, but my body lives as if the things that have happened to me are still happening . I re-live them in my head, almost every second, every minute every hour  trying to make them better, figure them out, trying to make things come out a different way , I have to fight all the time.  I think there is a part of my brain that doesn't understand that's its all over.  My brain feels like those things are still happening, my body is/was a war zone.  The rapes are over, that assaults, the torture, the pain, its all over; it was a very long time ago. In my head I know all the things to say and feel , I can understand that I can never change things, never make them different.  I understand in my head that I have already survived them there is no need to fight anymore.  That makes sense I know that, every part of that.


But my heart, My heart.

 I worry about this heart of mine because there is so much hurt and worry about being hurt again that I move forward doing life the only way that I know how.  My heart fights, trying to make everything make sense, trying to understand the unimaginable.  In my head I know  the things that I need to do; its so clear.  I understand what has happened as a 44 year old woman but my body, my soul  can't forget and often live in a place where its all still happening.   Things are not so clear for my heart. I see every picture every feeling every moment when I thought that I was going to die, when I wanted to die.  I remember all the hands everywhere, and there was nothing that I could do.  I remember the looks the words, the sounds that I heard and the way that things were messed up. I remember so very many little details that seem so insignificant and yet my mind replays them.  There are memories when I sleep and memories when I am awake.  It's so crazy making to know in my head that things are over, I am a woman , a mom and that I am safe.  And at the same time my body gets achy, my arms and legs fall asleep,  my mind goes back there wanting to understand. I wish that there was a picture to show all the ways that I know its over and yet all the ways that I relive it in every way.  When I was little the rapes were terrible , physically my body was in pain and to feel that as a 44 year old is unimaginable and I try to make sense of those feelings keep them in my head and tell myself that those things aren't happening anymore doesn't work.  Lately and since sharing my story my body hurts.   My hips hurt,  and I don't know what to do with that.  How after all this time do I still feel that?  How does my body still experience the physicality of the things that have happened.  I know that I have survived them but the things that I feel make me worry if I will make it, if I will come out whole on the other end.  There is literally nothing wrong, but my body remembers and that is more than hard to get my head around.  The days I can't brush my teeth, the days I can't be touched, the days that the dogs are on me and hurt more than you can imagine, my skin and bones literally hurt me.  I don't understand this part and this part keeps me looking back.   I get more than angry when the nightmares come and think I am sleeping how in the world am I supposed t make that stop!?!?  I run and run in my nightmares I get passed around, more hurt and there is nothing that I can do. I replay and replay events and people in so many different situations and all the time no one is there , And I have to do it all myself.  I somehow became the cleanup specialist, and no one ever noticed.  This is  the hardest piece, not wanting to be in your own skin. Because you are well aware of the things that do happen in your own skin.  There are parts that there are not even any words for,  and how do I heal those parts.  The parts that terrify me and I am not even sure why.  I so want to move forward and the nightmares, flashbacks, the memories, the smells the sounds all those things always keep me looking back trying to be safe. And I think times I have gotten close , there was always something that brought me right back to fighter.  I can remember once in IOP talking about one specific time and just talking that it felt like they were there forever,  So many little details are sketched in my brain, for once I was just talking about the whole experience.

  And I still remember her name she asked how long that he was there.  I said that I didn't know and she kind of chuckled and said well sex doesn't take that long.  I literally wanted to crawl in a hole. This had been happening to me since I was 5, how in the hell can I give you a specific time there is no frame of reference for me.  When someone is hurting your body in ways that you don't understand it feels like forever, and its crushing.  I hate when my body feels like it did then the pain is unimaginable and I can not get my head around surviving that.  I get really defensive when people talk about how its OK if your body responds.  No for me it isn't, that makes me just like them.  That sometimes, a body just does that,  because for me there is nothing but pain,  either pain or the things that that were doing were so painful that I went away. I was either watching outside myself, in the corner, on the ceiling making sure my animals were safe.  Anywhere was better than on my bed , his bed the floor anyplace was better than being where my little body was being torn in ways that I still can't put words on.  I already always hated being a girl anyway, I hated attention that I got I hated that I matured so early I hated that I had a body at all.  And as much as I try to forget those things that are in the rear view mirror there are pieces and bits and more pieces reminding me of all the ways I didn't win.  Talking about this part honestly is more than difficult, and breaks my heart.  I feel like I have so much to prove, I have to make people understand how terrifying that this all was.
 I have to prove and make people understand that the OK that you see on the outside is no where even close to OK. I promise that I am not being difficult, I am trying more than hard and as much as I want to heal there are pieces that pull me back. I don't know how to grab a hold of those pieces and make them go away.  Nothing that ever happened to me was important or ever meant anything.  Every abuse every rape, every hurt was just another day.  All those days all those times were never acknowledged , never important never taken care of and now here I am, trying to thrive and be a strong woman but my heart is in pieces feeling like I am a burden and a bother because I can't hold on to them anymore.   

I often think that maybe if I had known something else it would be easier to overcome, all I have ever known is survival and running.  There have been moments of peace, and I cherish those, and I cherish the people who have helped me find those moments but I need that in my everyday. When I do get it, that peace, that person who hears I hold on for dear life, because little Callahan sure can not do all this on her own.

What a huge piece.

I heart your heart.

What do I want ?

Yes this is more than rough I can tell you all the things that I don't want.  I can tell you all the ways that I don't want to be that I don't want to get in the way  don't want to be a pest I don't want to be a Burden,I don't want to take too much time I don't want to be a bother I don't want to waste your time, I don't want to sound stupid I don't want others t feel bad for me I don't want to be an outsider I don't want to have such a heavy life.  I don't want to be the odd ball the one that is never understood. I don't always want to be the quiet one, and I also don;t want to say the wrong things I could go on and on.....there are so many things that I don't want to be ......And I more than worry that telling people the things that I do want  are just way to much to ask.

And I think the things that I do want, I feel more than needy.  I feel like the things that I want that I long for are to much to ask.  When I reach out and have asked for the things that I have needed most often my needs have not been met.  I think for me even basic needs being met make me feel like I am asking for too much.  I long for safety.  I want to be safe and know that where ever I go and whatever I do that I am able to keep myself safe and sound.  I have had it a few times but nothing that has lasted .  I am never saying its never been, I have known it a few times but then just like that I become overwhelming and my needs and my wants don't match theirs and I become unimportant and forgotten.  I just want to find a place where I belong where I fit in, where I am given space to be me, where I am loved and cared for just because of the person that I am not what anyone else wants me to be. I want people to listen to me and even try to understand where I am coming from.  I want the things that I am interested in and believe in to be taken seriously.  I want my heart to be heard, I want my heart to be taken care of.  Those that are close to or even those that know my story I want them to be genuine and understand , they don't have to be careful around me but they must be mindful.  There are things that are always going to pierce my heart things that have left wounds  that are sometimes open, I want people to be aware and give me space give me comfort and just be if I need it.  I have to say that lately I have reached out and I have been received more warmly than I ever imagined.  So I can say that now in this moment I have a place, its worrying though ; that this place will go away that I will become to much, that I will need to much that I will   take to much time and  be seen as a burden. I fear that more than anything. I understand that not everyone can always be there.  I just want that when I ask that someone please show up.  Because it takes more than you can imagine for me to even ask, I do not ask lightly, I ask if my heart depends on it, and that is the only time I ask.  I am often shocked at myself when I do reach out because so many times I have asked for help, I have asked for even simple things but that is too much.  I NEVER EVER want to bother anyone I just want to be important and to be special to someone for someone to care enough to hold my hand when I am going through hard things and someone who will laugh with me and the things I find funny.  I want someone that I can share my life with, even a forever friend that will be there that I know I can count on.  Those are the things that I want and at 44, I fear that asking for that forever person is something that is not meant for me but do I want that at least something like that more than ever I do .  That person who says get up I am taking you out, that person who comes over and watches my favorite movie because they know it will make me laugh.  That person who thinks of my love of whales and sends me a little hello.  Those are the things that make my heart happy and those are the things that I want from this life.  I want someone that asks how my heart is every now and then when they know things are rough.  I want someone to care for my heart and be more than kind and even more gentle.  I often feel like no matter what I do I can't win.  And once, just once with out a doubt I want to win, I want to be the favorite I want my heart taken care of, I want my very own place with my very own friends where I fit in for the crazy  kind spunky crazy passionate person that I am .  That I fear is all too much to ask. And  I can't believe that I still keep fighting even when each time I am left I feel a little more broken than before.  For once in this life I want someone to leave me better than before.

I heart your heart

I heart your heart.

All About Tribes, finding your people

You have to heal to find your tribe . On your journey of healing , you must use the support you find along the way wisely. Do not try to hold onto everyone who hands you a pillow to rest your heart, or a piece of bread to feed your soul.  They are not meant to travel with you, so the only way for you to keep them is  to stop travelling on the healing journey. Trust that others are waiting for your arrival on the journey. One day your tribe will greet you.  They may not be survivors. They won't be related to you.  They may be the least likely suspect and it may take you a while to recognize them. You may meet them in at a place you cant even imagine being right now. You may have to travel another decade on the path to find them. But, you can only travel one day at a time. If you stop, you will never reach them.  They cannot come and rescue you. You must travel to where they are. So keep moving. Keep Healing. 

Dr. Rosenna Bakari, #we#2 

Too Much Love Is Not Enough 

On Silence of Littles

Sometimes there are things that hit. And when they hit you its like they know the words that have been swirling in your head; the things that you long for the things that you hope someday will be.  I found this poem on Facebook by Nora Cooper called On Silence.  And the words were this .......

A little while ago another poet asked me for the name of my abuser. They said this was to protect their friends.  So I told them.  I didn't want to I thought I had to. It's just that I have heard so much about survival, Like I should not lie if I am going to cry wolf I must name it. Don't be another girl making another mountain out of a mo-hill. I have heard so much about strength so much about how the voice is redemption; how to speak is to heal sometimes I feel like everyone just wants the resurrection story out of me,  The parts of my survival I know how to make useful.  I am so ashamed of all that which I do not say and sometimes I don't want to talk about it, I don't want to write a poem about it, I don't want to tell my mom. I don't want anyone to look at me like I am brave or like I am a little bird with a broken wing or to look at me at all...Sometimes my heart is breaking and other times I am just tired. I have spent so much time at war with my silence I have forgotten everything she has done for me. When I was terrified to speak when my abuser was in the audience at a slam when they talked to me after when my silence met theirs when this poet demanded a name of me ..when my stomach was nothing but a mess of fear and obligation my silence took my hand and squeezed it gently as if to say you owe them nothing; I am here if you need me to speak only if you want to; so to you quiet child who have kept everything just inside your mouth for whatever reason, I see you even when you say nothing I believe you; I believe that you are scared I believe that it hurts I believe that it happened I believe that you loved them I believe that you didn't I believe that you still do I believe that you are confused about forgiveness and justice......Believe me quiet child you are doing nothing wrong there is no right or wrong here there is only your choice; you speak when you are ready. I promise your silence has not set a caged beast free You did not release a monster you SURVIVED one trust me quiet child I know of a girl before me I do not blame her. I do not blame her my Silence hears this poem looks at me teary eyed and says, I say that I am sorry I hated you I always thought you were the weakest part of me; the part that needed the most forgiveness but no you are the first one who never asked me to prove anything, the only one who believed me before I spoke and after and now when my silence takes my hand.....I squeeze back, I say I know.  I say Thank You and I mean it.