You are Her and She is You

 This phrase, oh this.  Always this. 

You Are Her and She is You. 

 A very wise man first said it to me a few years ago and I had no idea the meaning it would hold.  I remember the room the chairs the wall, the red chandelier brilliant with light.  A phrase so simple and so complex that helped me see things a different way. I have always broken my life into parts and pieces. Times when things happened, memories I hold. All my parts and pieces. I am her and she is me. You see there are pieces of me, lost in parts of my life that bore the brunt of the abuse for that time. There is me little Callahan innocent and wanting nothing more than to be loved . Then the ever present 13 year old scared for her life, scared to even see the light. And me the crazy Callahan trying to figure this life of mine out,  trying to move forward  and heal.  I talk about them like they are their own little people, I know it often feels as crazy as it sounds.  

So clearly I can see little Callahan. A little spunky free spirit that loves to laugh. I don't know how people didn't love her uniqueness.  She had a love for life and noticed the little things, as ass backwards that her life was she always noticed the small little things, I truly believe those are the things that kept her going. Those are the things that kept her alive really.    There is a picture that I remember, I am skipping around the yuca plant in my front yard.  I looked so care free, so innocent. Not one person in the world could have imagined the horrors that happened beyond the front door of that house : 2500 Rearn Dr. She was also such a sad little girl, she lived in a fairy tale much of the time.  She talked to her stuffed animals, she loved all animals in general and was in a constant state of pretend.  I can remember pretending to be anywhere  else and be anyone else other than the little girl that I was.  School was more than hard she was picked on, she was different, she was oh so quiet. Trying to learn and concentrate was unbelievably hard.  Her little brain and body were so tired and achy, that learning any learning was purely by chance she lived in survival mode her entire little life.  She would try to blend into the background, trying to stay out of the way. There were not really many friends, I felt different and knew that there was no way anyone would want to play with me. I was a watcher,  always watching out for who was coming and who was going.  I was on alert and prepared as I could be for anything that might come my way. 

Then there is ME.  And I am not sure where I fit into this sometimes, but I am desperately trying to figure it out .  Because there is me and on one side there is this little Callahan. A sweet innocent girl hurt by the world that just wants to be loved and cared for.  On the other hand there is this 13 year old that is wise beyond her years and more alone than any person could imagine. She carries the weight of a thousand lifetimes, smiles, eats and pretends that everything is great.  Then there is me figuring out where I fit in, and how in the world that I am still a living breathing person. I spend my life trying to figure out how I survived and even sometimes why because often  I feel so broken, and wonder how I survived all the memories in my head.  I try to brush it off it couldn't have been that bad, then the memories ; that are that bad.  And I think this is a burden that is so great, my only choice is a death grip until I get an understanding,  until I get some kind of why so that nothing like that ever happens to me again. 

13 year old is as damaged goods as it gets  and feels that with every breath that she takes.  She also lived in a fairy tale world, but her world was dark and full of evil.  . She was a dreamer, she longed for  a good life with good people. She lived in her journals, writing her thoughts, her feelings the things she knew she was unable to speak. She lived taking care of others, making sure that they were happy and safe. She lived through music, singing every word, I think that is where she found even a small respite from the hell she lived. She holds on to the things that have happened to her, for fear that if she lets go something worse might happen.  If she holds on and doesn't forget, and tries to figure it out then she can prevent anything like that from ever happening to her again.  I know for certain that I would not survive another attack.  Somehow if I have a death grip, and keep trying to learn the lesson that is there somewhere then nothing like that will ever happen again.  There are no guarantees in life, this is one that I need .  I need a guarantee that I can never ever be raped ever again.  I would not survive it,  my world would permanently go black, and no amount of care, would bring me back. 13 year old goes through the motions, but lives in the dark.  She is terrified of the light, she knows what the world is capable of, and is scared to open her eyes. I struggle to accept her because if I accept her I accept what has happened to her, and take it as my own.  That thought literally takes my breathe away. I don't want those things to be my own, they are hers and that has gotten us through.  What if I accept them? Her truths her story and can't handle them?   What if accepting her story is the end of me, somehow that is a very real fear. One that I don't understand, but its there and its the size of an ocean.

So here I am in the middle trying to figure this out and I have to remember I am her and she is me.  That should not be so hard really but its absolutely terrifying.  I can better accept that with little Callahan she has an innocence, a lack of understanding that makes loving her easier.  We have had a long journey and finally letting her close was a huge step for me.  I don't know where she is anymore,  I think she is somewhere peaceful and enjoying being little. At least that is what I like to think.  I look forward to the day I can see her again and maybe welcome her in to stay. 

That 13 year old, is proving to be so hard to connect to. I fear the life she has lived, the things that she has lived through.  I always say how brave and strong that she was, and I remember You are her and she is you.  That is unbelievably hard to understand.  I don't understand choices that she made, and her reactions to things in life.  I don't understand why she didn't fall down and scream for help.  I know she is me,  and in the next breathe I think she is so gross, how could I love her and hold her close.  I do have hope, I am sure if I didn't I would not even struggle with her,. I am sure that I would have written her off  long time ago.  There is hope if I can believe that little Callahan is a part of who I am then in time I can hope that 13 can also be a part of me.  It's just such a long road, that gets exhausting.  Someday we will all be ok. Someday, we can all hold each other close and be brave together. 

I heart your heart.