Her, another part of me

 

I feel like there has been so much going on that I have not been dealing with that 13-year-old little girl.  She is so strong yet so fragile.  I am sure that I don't give her near enough credit for getting us where we are.  She has lived a million lifetimes and I could not be more thankful for her.  I feel like calling her that "thirteen-year-old" is so dismissive. She is so much more than that thirteen-year-old girl, she is so much more than the gross and disgusting that I named her for years.  So first I have to come up with a name for her. She needs a name, something for her to hear and know that she is magic.  She is the reason that I survived.  She, that amazing girl is why I am standing here today.  She holds lifetimes of hurt and still has the kindest soul.  Even all that she went through she kept dreaming she held on and knew that someday this life of hers was going to be different. She always saw the small things; she believed in the trees and the wind.  She believed in the little birds singing on their branch, and Whales.  She held on to her love for whales and longed for a time when she could be free.  She is a girl that is quite miraculous in every sense of the word.  She rose above each and every injustice that was done to her, and even on the worst of days she was able to find the smallest speck of hope and she held on to it for dear life.  Its crazy sometimes to see how far that I have come, in finding my voice in being able to use words instead of just pictures and yet for this little girl words are hard to find.  I struggle, I struggle to get the things out I struggle for her story to be told.  I struggle and the fear is that connecting with her will somehow be the end of me.  If you have ever seen the movie K-Pax.  It is one of my all-time favorites, but in the end, when he is alive but so very far away.  That is my greatest fear, that somehow, I am not capable of being all the things that she needs.  I worry that I am not enough to carry her story that I am not enough to give it the right words to finally be free.  I worry all the time that the story will reduce me a blubbering mess and no amount of glue will be able to put all the pieces of me back together.  See I told you so very fragile yet oh so strong.  I have worked more than hard getting her to a place where she is finally ot of the dark.  She is no longer in darkness but isn't able to yet hold her head high. I know that I am closer to her being free as I have ever been, even closer than i think.  She is no longer in the dark and not quite in the light.  I look forward to the day when i can think of her and hold my heart knowing that she is no longer held down by the things that haunted her for so long.  There is no making them go away but I can help make them lighter.  Today I can talk about little Callahan and I am grateful that she is free, she is running and playing as she always should have been.  I remember the time that I missed her, when I didn't know where she was.  There was a part of me that felt more alone than I ever have.  Today, there is no missing her, she is there free as a bird doing all the things that she never got to experience in life.  I think about her and know that I she can never take the full heaviness away of all she endured but she has a freedom from it that is hard to put to words.  I look forward to the day with great hope when little 13-year-old Callahan isn't afraid of taking up space.  I look forward to the day when she will be comfortable in her skin when her every thought isn't dark with the things that happened to her and the people that treated her so cruelly.  I look forward to that time when she can feel the sun and feel the warmth of those around her.  She has lived life afraid of everything and I cry thinking about the day when she can laugh and not wonder who is watching.  I look forward to the day when she has a crush and can feel loved.  I look forward to the day she can wave goodbye and let me take over.  As I continue to heal and grow, I hope this will be her year.  That she can learn to grow her wings and be. I hope she can find the words she needs to speak and not be ashamed or feel guilty.  I look forward to the day she can stand on her own and be proud in her skin.  I picture her, as that girl sitting in a coffee shop quietly ready enjoying all that is around her.  She has a peace, because she knows where she has been but she realizes how far that she has come.  I want her to be able to enjoy the carefree things in life without having to think about all that could be, without having to look over her shoulder.  As with little Callahan there is no way to make all the things that happened to her completely go away.  There is no way in the world for her to live a life as if those things never happened, but it is my hope that I can give her some of the things she never got, and I can surround her with people who can hear her and give her space when needed.  I think that there are such deep wounds I think there will be days that sting, but she will learn to write and rest and know that she is still ok.  I think where I am in this journey, I know that there is no magic wand.  I think as things change and we grow things will come up, but they won't be as big as some of the things now.  She has never had a voice, she has never been able to tell her story and be heard, she is the one that has been silent making sure that everyone is ok, that all is well with the world while hers was falling apart around her.  It's her time.  It is her time to tell her story and stand proud, she has done amazing things and deserves peace, freedom and rest. This has got to be her year

I heart your heart. 

 It's your time. 

End of the year directions, 2022 is almost over

 I feel like there are a lot of different directions that I am being pulled this year. Christmas was harder than i expected and also opened my eyes in ways I could never have imagined. I think all year I have been waiting for the feeling of relief to leave and the sadness to set in and it just hasn't.  There is a sad that I don't have a mom and that she is no longer here, but that relief that sense of being able to breathe is something amazing. I was in a weird space and in a lot of ways I left like Cindy Lou Who when she is singing where are you Christmas.  I love to decorate and create this winter wonderland and this year I just couldn't.  We did put a tree up.  It is mostly decorated, but don't look at the top two feet and don't look at the back as you go up the stairs because there are no decorations.  It was pretty if you looked at different parts and just left others out.  The Mantle was done, and the stocking were hung.  The grinch was slumped on the back of the chair.  There were a few new things, but it was a chore to do, and they were turned on only a handful of times.  This year was different because Mariska was also working, and I was alone a lot and there wasn't enough of me for the bigger trees and there wasn't going to be any help from Vincent I knew that even without asking.  Just a sad year, a different year a year of transition that I am glad it is now coming to a close. 

Of course, what would the holidays be without DRAMA!   and of course, there was plenty.  Chris deciding right before Thanksgiving to leave Laurel, and the craziness that comes with that, I am sure you can imagine.  Him renting this huge 5-bedroom house then not even a week later separating.  Too much drama and I just want to be. Sam decided to speak with my brother and tell him his thoughts on him being beneficiary and leaving me behind and what he thought.  Yea that didn't go over well.  I haven't really heard from him since. I am not angry just so hurt.  I think people seem to forget I lost my mom too and no matter how rocky and hard that relationship was I don't have a mom. Once again something happens that I get put in the middle and treated like an outcast and I wasn't even the one that did anything.  I am so tired of being hurt; Tired of being a leftover if plans fall through.  I am tired of being caught in the middle for speaking the truth or sharing my thoughts. I am allowed to talk and share the things that are going on with me.

I spent the day yesterday getting my house back putting the few Christmas decorations that I have up away.  Out with the old in with the new.  Even fixing up the library.  I have really missed that room. I have this plan about getting a desk and making that a room we are able to use all the time. So, today is the last day of the year, how crazy is that.  There is so much here, so much that is ahead and a lot of things that will make me heart happy.  I look forward to the things that are ahead making room in my mind and heart for what is next, for the things that I want.  I am done with people that step on my heart and make me second guess everything that I do.  I am tired of people around me whose words and actions don't match.  If you are going to be in my life, I need to know that the things that you say are things that I can count n and that I can count on you by your actions, by how I am treated.  I have distanced myself from a lot of people that just cause more pain.  If you are not going to be in my life to support and care for me then kindly find your way out.  I feel like this year, I need to make myself a priority.  That is not saying that I am going to treat everyone terrible and change who I am.  That means that I am going to be true to who I am and keep the people who care for my heart close and be grateful because that is exactly what I need. 

In this new year, I feel like it is going to be a time to figure out what is next what will make me happy.  The kids are older they are going to school and will be working creating their own life.  I don't want to be sad during this next life phase I just need to find my own way. I have this calling for grad school. Everything I know tells me LPC and that scares me to death.  I want to work on my own house, making it mine changing little things to make it all mine.  I feel like I will keep working in my own healing but for once it feels like I am farther than I have ever been. There are parts of me that are free and a few that still need some work but I know that I am not alone and so I keep working.  I am going to speak to a group of LPC-Interns.  I am excited, nervous and terrified; I just hope that I say the right words and that it makes a difference. I hope I am calm clear and make an impact.  Then there is teacher of the Year gala.  I am a little worried because it goes against all that I am. The attention the focus I just do what I do.  I think there are a lot of new beginnings for me. I think that with each new beginning there will be 

decisions that need to be made.  As scary and unknown as this time is, I am looking forward to new adventures and finding my happy again.  I am hopeful that maybe even this heavy soul of mine can find some happy with no strings attached.  Here's to a new year, new experiences and letting myself shine in ways I don't even know yet. I hope that I am on the edge of a blue Sky, and things I can not even imagine.  I want that. I want happily ever after.

Happy New Year, Bring on 2023!

I heart your heart

The letter that I cannot write

I want to write you a letter, but I don't have any words, and can't find any that would fit

I want to write you a letter and tell you that i love you and that you meant the world but if I did that I would be lying. 

I want to write you a letter and tell you all the things I have ever felt in my heart but know it would fall on deaf ears. 

My heart  is crushed and broken into millions of tiny irreplaceable pieces.

I haven't had a mom in a very long time.

I want to write you a letter, and tell you all the things in my heart 

but you never wanted to hear them 

I want to write you a letter, but my fingers can't even hold the pen or type the words 

everything feels heavy, I don't want to sound like a vengeful daughter

But I can not pretend that I miss you and I am sorry you are gone.

I want to write you a letter, but I feel empty yet relieved

an empty like a gas tank on E; barely running on fumes

I have lived my entire life only getting a few drops at a time

Just enough to keep the hope that maybe someday you would love me 

I want to write you a letter but there is only a deep ache for things I will never have 

 my mind is still trying to wrap itself around why you hated me , why you spread that hate to your friends and made me the enemy

I want my words to make a fucking difference to you

 I want to write you that perfect letter full of love and admiration, but those are not feelings that I have.

I want to write all the words I ever needed to say, I want to write that I miss you every day, but really there is just so much hurt. 

Anything that I would write would not fit, people could never understand. 

My entire life I have been the bad daughter, my entire life I came in second.

Or not at all.  

I was the one that made too much noise, the one that was talked about and leered at.

I was looked down on my entire life, and there are no warm feelings of tenderness

I never wanted anything from you, but to be seen and heard

I am ever so angry, no I think it's almost hate

 I want to write you a letter, but you could never understand my heart

Not the little girl that I was once not the woman that I am today

I want to write you a letter; a beautiful remembrance of love and longing 

 So  I sit here this cold morning exactly one year after your death 

the feeling I overwhelmingly feel is Relief. 

 Here are the only things I know 

I know that I meant nothing to you. I know that you didn't like the woman that I was 

I know that I was judged by you no matter what I did 

How you would leer at me, from upstairs and offer no help, how you would laugh at my struggles offering no support

I made you angry when I didn't answer your every Becking call. 

I made you angry that I could not be your everything 

You hated that I was growing and getting stronger 

You hated when I did what was right for me and that didn't include you

You hated that I didn't let you in more but why would I when all you did was wound ?

You hated that I was my own woman, who wanted more from life

You hated that I was a fighter, and never gave up

You saw my journals saying I would love to read them someday, I was furious 

how dare you, I am right here in front of you

See me talk to me love me how I am

Just last week I found the letter, My brother was 100% beneficiary

Like a knife through my heart, I gave up my favorite house for you

I gave up the first place that was all mine where I was genuinely happy to buy a bigger house for you

I changed my life to make room for you, in the hope I mattered

I didn't.  I was a nothing.  I was not important.

This day a year ago, we were both struggling for life

only one of us made it.

I was sad for my children,  I was sad for my brother. 

Me, I felt a freedom, and a relief that I am not sure I will ever understand. 

This past year I have learned more about myself and have grown into who I am.  

That i am more self-sufficient that I imagined. 

That I have been doing things alone for as long as I can remember.

This past year I have struggled, I have thrived, and I have become more of me. 

I have learned how little I meant to you; I have learned that you were not kind

I have learned that I can do and accomplish almost anything.  

all on my own and be successful. 

I am in my home, that is all mine.  

It's time I open your bedroom door, make it a guest bedroom full of love and life. 

Today I am making the upstairs living room clutter free and a place where we all want to be. 

Today one year ago, they were doing everything to keep you alive, 

My brother was power of attorney, yet I was the one there being asked to make decisions 

Medicine and machines to keep you alive.  It was me the bad daughter that was asked to make the decision.  

When we got there you were already gone, no longer my mother or grandmother

 we stood at the hospital as you took your last breath. 

Even though I was hated, treated badly and so deeply hurt

there is a heaviness that a person can never understand unless they have seen it

Seeing the heart monitor, the nurse turning off the alarms, and slowly as seconds feel like hours 

slowly the line goes flat.  I ask the nurse, she is gone isn't she, he says yes and walks in the room,

They start unhooking all the tubes and lines, 

There is a finality, 

We stand there the three of us ; Vincent ,Mariska and I wondering what happens next. 

Today 365 days later, I am free, I am still processing and still the feeling is relief. 

I sit here crying because of relief, because I cannot imagine what life would be like with her here

Even in the last week I have learned things that cut like a knife, and I am still trying to wrap my head around them.  

So no, today I cannot write that loving, missing longing letter because those are not things that I have. 

I am grateful for the seasons when I did have my mom, when we could laugh, when she loved me even as few as they were. 

So I will take what comes today. One year later. Still on my own . Still relieved.

I loved you so mom, 

I heart your heart. 

Those that helped and hurt ; Sometimes both and maybe one for forever

I am realizing there have been a lot of counselors in my life. Some not so great some terrible and some that are sticking with me. I am not sure if that makes me determined or crazy.  I think there is this hope that if I can just find the right person that someday someday I will find that person who hears me and will stay until I am finally ok. There have been a few times I thought that I had finally found that person, only to once again be demolished.  I know that no one is perfect.  I know that even counselors are going to make mistakes, but I think that being a counselor you have to be more careful with people's feelings and emotions because for some of those people you may be the only person that a person has. I know that more than a few times I got/get too attached but when dealing with deep dark things and when you are sharing your soul that is something to be cherished.  I know that not everyone is going to be a right fit.  Not everyone is going to understand and sometimes there are times that people just work.  I guess there is saying about seasons, but I don't really like that, but I can tell you that I have learned things from each and every counselor and there are things that broke my heart and things that let the light inn.  I am just asking that please be the light giver and not a taker, because sometimes there is so little light left, we can't have anything else taken.

 He was my first experience with a counselor, He was my father's counselor I am sure that he was in some big medical building.  I remember that his office has soft lighting and was comfortable.  I am not sure why I was in the office, but I think he was using hypnotization.  He pretended to put a candle on my head and told him to be careful.  Probably the only time my father gave a shit, and it wasn't even a real danger. 

 I was 13. She was my first experience with a counselor.  She was with friends of the family in Lewisville.  She had a pronounced jaw line and very wide smile.  I call her the contortionist.  She would sit with her legs crossed, then wrap them around again, a little creepy.  She wore tons of turquoise jewelry, bracelets, and rings on most of her fingers.  It was the day after I told my parents I was gang raped.  I was a mess, we all walked into her office, and for the length of the session, my father screamed and yelled and pointed fingers at me.  She sat there.  He stood up the entire time belittling me, saying that it didn't look like anyone broke in. He made it all about him I became smaller and smaller sitting in the armless chair, against the wall.  Then when the session was over, she said, I think we should do this separately.  WOW, that is a thought.  I am dying inside, and there was not any concern for me.  No questions were asked of me, and my mother sat there silent.  The thing that I remember most was sitting in the parking lot outside the appointment, I had gotten a happy mean.  I couldn't eat it but something about it made me smile.  I was laying down in the backseat, laying was more comfortable I was so hurt.  I can remember feeling the sun and for a few minutes, that was all that mattered.  In a horrific day when I should have been taken care of, at least there was some comfort in the sun on my face and the happy meal sitting beside me. The only comfort that I was given. I did see her individually for some time.  She was saying the things she was supposed to say.  But not listening to what I was going through.  I quickly learned, just agree, tell her what she wants to hear, and your time will go by quicker.  My time with her didn't last long and I was grateful. 

 Yet another counselor that I was brought too after I was made to tell about the gang rape.  I think that each time i was brought somewhere, there was this hope that someone was going to ask the right questions, that someone was actually going to help me.  This would not be that time.  Once again, my father made it all about him, calling me an entity and blabbing nothing was about me or what had happened.  I was sitting between my parents my mother silent and my father talking for the both of them.  He sat there in his chair, no reaction no words of comfort.  Then the only question that he asked me how many were there.  And it took everything that i had and I said 5.   And then nothing my father continued and not another question was asked about me, who they were, what they did no other questions other than the number of men that were in my house from sun rise until past sun set.  I was learning quickly that what happened to me was my fault and didn't really matter.  What mattered was my father and his feelings. We left there and nothing was ever said again. 

She was the first person that actually listened to me.  She was younger and bubbly and she heard me.  I was in my late teens, and I asked to go because I was still falling apart after what happened when I was 13.  I would wake up with bruises, and scratches all over me, the nightmares and flashbacks were brutal.  By the time I went to her I wanted to die. My father's behavior was worse and worse, I think my mother and my brother also saw her for a while, she said that it was amazing that we all had the same story about living in the house with him and what a monster that he was. I know I was dealing a lot with the things my father and Albert had done.  Looking back how in the world did I handle anything.  There was so much.  I felt like i mattered, I felt like she heard me until she didn't anymore.  I stopped seeing her and then I pressed charges on my father.  And of course, detectives and Da's want all your information.  I said fine take all my journals, contact the counselors, I wanted to get him, I wanted him to be put away to keep others safe.  Well, when I contacted her about all the abuse that I spoke with her about my father.... she said she didn't remember anything.... WHAT....basically she didn't want to be involved in a court case.  So, after being that caring, listener she decided she no longer wanted to be involved.  I was heartbroken.  She could have made a difference in my case. Once again, I was left feeling less than.  I was left feeling crazy.  Maybe I didn't say things the right way, maybe things weren't as bad as I thought.  Did nothing that happened to me matter, did none of that even happen . How do you not remember after almost 3 years.  

  I found her after my case was going to court and Victim's assistance was paying for her.  I remember the first conversation, she was caring and kind, she shared that she was also abused by her father.  I think for a time that she was helpful.  I think for a time, she cared, but only for a time.  I was going downhill quickly.  I was a full-time nanny, I was going to school full time and trying to deal with all that happened to me.  And my case against my father was in the court system. My plate was more than full.  For a time she was helpful, really helpful.  I was not doing well and took a leave from work and attended her IOP program.  It was helpful, helped me through the justice system. She also shared the office with a psychiatrist and their answer to a lot of things was medicine.  So I was put on an extreme amount of medicine, even when I said it wasn't working, they said thats ok stay on it. She started asking me questions about other patients and therapists.  I felt like I was more in the middle than anything and it was uncomfortable. I was too young to know any different. There were a lot of interns that came through, and one intern and I just connected.  He seemed to help at a deeper level.  So, when he left to go to his own practice, I told Marry Ann that I was going to start seeing Jason.  She was more than angry, almost taking it personal.  I was sent a letter stating that she was no longer seeing me and neither was the psychiatrist, that I needed a team!   WHAT, it was very crazy, Jason said I could file a complaint, but I just wanted to be better.  I just wanted someone to be real and true and not decide that I wasn't worth it anymore. I once again felt crazy, dismissed and worthless.  My mother came to see her once with me.  I don't remember much of the session, I remember that she did ask my mother where she thought my father was at night and my mother said well at least he wasn't in bed with me.  It was after that session that they brought her answer to my attention.   At least they asked her questions, at least they cared enough for a time to do that. 

She was one of the Therapists from IOP. She did more damage than help that's for sure. For probably the first time ever, I was talking about the gang rape and don, and she said, well how long were they there and it felt like the world stopped, because how do you answer that question, I am sorry I didn't ask him to stop so I could look at the clock.  I was 13, how am I supposed to know I can remember my voice shaking, and tears running down my face and I said that it felt like a very long time.  She kind of laughed and said Well sex doesn't take that long.  I wanted to shrink in my chair.  I didn't have the right answer, I didn't, have the answer that she wanted, and I felt worthless, she reinforced all the things that everyone told me about that time.  What happened to me didn't matter, I was worthless, and I was lying.  A lot to take from a little comment but that is what her words said to me. She was also the women who when I talked about going to a rave the night before the trial was supposed to start and I said something about missing that free feeling and just wanted to be done and she said why don't you just go eat a banana split....so not a big deal but at the same time it was.  Telling me to eat a banana split to make things better it was just dismissive, and inconsiderate. I never looked at her the same and felt like she didn't believe me.  I felt less than around her, and I had enough of that on my own.

 He was absolutely the most supportive through the court system and then traveling to Boston for Angelas's case. He was kind, he listened, he heard me.  He gave me time.  I still have the letters that he wrote me as encouragement when i had to testify for Angela.  He was my go-to.  There were times, I saw him every week and then other times it was now and then.  He was always there. He was just starting out.  He moved to many new offices, and I kept following even when I found out that I was pregnant with my kids.  And was like are you sure you weren't drinking, or drugs weren't involved. There was so much going on that was a place I wasn't ready to talk about. He even came to the hospital when they were born.  He was my support.  For years until once again he wasn't.  I was reeling from the court case and so not doing ok.  I was falling apart at the seams.  Then at the end of a session.  I can remember it was a rough one, I can remember talking about the picture that was on my wall asa little girl and wanting to be a part of that picture as my father abused me.  At the end he said Well there is something we have to talk about.  He said Well this is our last session; I have to start charging you.  I was shocked.  I understood the need to get paid, I understood but the way that it was done. Don't have a person open a dark hole then say oh by the way.  I shut down inside.  It was like well ok, the kids were maybe 3 or 4.  I was devasted.  I can remember Dave Mathews band song Where are you going was on in the car, and I cried harder than I have ever cried.  He was my support person.  And just like that my feet were ripped out from under me.  Gosh I understood, but the way that it was done, and so quickly.  It seemed that once again I was on my own. 

EMDR Guy :  Thats sad I don't really remember his name.  He was at a church, and I thought maybe it was worth a try.  He was nice but unprepared for my story.  He was very uncomfortable every time I talked about it, you  could see him cringe.  EMDR made things worse, it's hard to explain just not my thing.  I think it brought me into my own skin too much too fast and wasn't a good fit for me. I think he tried, but for me trying wasn't going to help. There was no way to heal when I thought that I disgusted him.  

The hope center :  I saw her only 3 times.  The third time I was talking about being tired with being a mom to twins and school and work. It was that point when I am so exhausted the tears just fall. She made a comment that broke my heart: Well, I made my bed now i had to lie in it !   I walked out at the end of the session and never went back.  A few years ago, I got an email from her, and she was asking if I needed anything.  I told her no that last time i saw her; She told me to lie in the bed I made; so no, I will not be making any further appointments. 

I think that this one hurts the most.  This is one that, still hurts that I still question where things went so terribly wrong.  There are not many words, that seem to fit.  I think that the hurt that I feel is still open and raw.  I became a part of his family. I watched his kids; I knew his wife. I was a guest in his house and one Thanksgiving, I even went to Colorado.  I think when he left for Colorado, things really changed. He left to start a church plant.  I always thought that was kind of funny, being the person that I am.    It was a good thing.  I really feel like I had gone as far as I could with him. I did some really hard work, I made progress. He helped me tell Vincent about his conception, he listened to me.  Every now and then I would email him asking for advice or just saying hello. Then I think I was asking about Medicine because the nightmares and things were just getting worse again, and I didn't understand to come so far and to hit such a huge roadblock.  His response back was cold and hurtful.  He was like at this point the only thing that would help was God.  That the church was the only way that those things were going to get any better.  I sent him the most honest response that I could, it was right from my heart. I told him that I missed when he didn't push God and religion.  He knew me and how I struggled with that.  So for his answer to be what it was , it was like he didn't know me at all and didn't care  it was a cold response to my true heart.  He knew me better than that you know.  My response was right from my heart, that was not an option for me and I missed that he didn't understand that.  And I got the worst response back that I could have ever imagined, and I have never sent him another email or spoken to him.  In it he reminded me of all the time that he had spent on me, and that he didn't change it was very accusing and cruel.  I was heartbroken.  Maybe that was his answer because he didn't have one but i didn't want answers, I wanted someone to listen.  I have never spoken to him again, I took him off my Facebook, and deleted any and all correspondence. I no longer reach out on the holidays and birthdays.   He was my person, and to be treated like that wasn't ok. How does a person say that they love you, come to your graduation then in a snap everything changes. I have learned that he couldn't help me anymore and instead of owning that, he put God in the middle.  When i think about it it still breaks my heart, because I really came a long way with his friendship and support.  But when I wasn't so needy, when I grew stronger and had my own opinions things went badly quick.  Even when my mother passed away, he never reached out to make sure I was ok.  There will always be a sore spot.  I have come to realize that I will never see him again.    He will never see the progress that I continue to make. He will never be a part of my life, family and all that I continue to overcome.  This one hurt worse for some reason, maybe because for once I thought i was a part of something and then I was left wondering if I was ever a part of it at all.  My heart is still broken maybe in time, it will lessen and It will be filled with the things and people meant for me.  

I was drowning and reaching out grabbing at whatever I could.  A single mom teacher there was no money for counseling.  There was little money for the necessities, and I was not even near the top of the list.  But he responded, he was kind he was willing to make something work.  He didn't have any appointments but was more than willing to email.  He wanted to work with me through a book, and then he realized that I needed more, he had an intern and thought it would be a good fit.  I was grateful for him and even trying to make a difference for me.  Which leads me to another intern.

So I started seeing the intern.  He was kind, but he was new.  I think he was unprepared for someone like me.  I think that he was more suited for smaller challenges.  He talked a lot about himself.  There were times he was present and helpful, and other times it seemed he had an agenda.  I was grateful to have someone to hear me, but there wasn't a connection.  I can remember asking for a hug once.  And got this quick uncomfortable hug and was like wow.... never want to do that again.  He was more than uncomfortable and already feeling gross and disgusting, I felt like he felt it too.  He didn't have a clue about what it was like not to have things, or not to be able to do something and I felt that.  I had just graduated and was looking for a teaching job, I had no home, no job and was struggling to keep my head above water.  I was not in a great place.  Then I found a job, I was going to have the chance to participate in an amazing documentary.  Things were looking up for me.  I was hired as a ful time para, at least my foot was in the door.  I went to DC for the documentary.  It was hard, really hard and brought up more than I thought it would.  The week that I got back I got an email that he passed his exam and would start charging me,  I was raw from the documentary and just wanted to talk about it then that.  I was devastated.  I can remember crying as hard as I had in some time.  I didn't understand why people kept leaving at the worse times and not caring at all about the person that I was.  I think i may have sent an email, but what was the point.  He was done with me.  And I was hurt and thought never again am I going to   do this. Until once again I was drowning in the things that happened to me. 

Speak Your Silence:  I saw something about a grant, called Speak your Silence.  I signed up and was granted a grant for 10 sessions of counseling.  I was so excited and looked forward to healing and finding joy and peace. I just kept thinking I need this to get over this hump Yes, I was matched with counselors neither of which was a match for me.  The first one was a guy that really liked himself.  He was in a different office each time that I saw him, and it felt uncomfortable.  I found myself staying on the surface, it was more like a coffee meeting then trying to heal and become whole.  The first 1 or 2 sessions were fine. It was strained and not a good fit, but I wanted so badly for it to work.  But that third session, he really shocked me.  He compared me to an alcoholic and said Well it sucks to be you.  I was flabbergasted and thought that surely, I heard him wrong.  Only I did hear him correctly and knew that was not the place for me. I told Speak your silence and they were like no that isn't ok.  We found someone else in Mckinney.  She was fine, but not for me.  She said the right words, but they seemed trite and out of a book. She was all about business and never truly saw the person that was in front of her.  There was no feeling or personality. Kindness was not a word that came to mind.  She seemed far away, and I wanted something soothing and caring.  I wasn't doing this to hear myself talk, I needed caring and direction. I needed someone who could care for my heart, I was ready to give up.  How many times can a person tell their story and keep getting their hearts trampled on.  My heart was done.  SPEAK Your Silence was looking for another counselor and come to find out there are few people that will work with them.  There are few people that are willing to put in the time and effort and make a difference. That was until I found Mark Hundley.   

This brings me to today and a man that I will forever Cherish.   

I was not in a good place at all.  I was drowning in the things that happened to me and trying to do it all.  I was so sad all the time and getting out of bed each and every day was a struggle.  I had signed up to go to a training at work on a Trade Learning Saturday.  I woke up that morning thinking I can't I just cannot go; I cannot pull myself out of bed and get it together. I don't want to see anyone; I cannot smile and pretend that I am fine. I didn't even take a shower; I didn't care.  I got up and went and Mark was the speaker.  I was of coarse super early and was greeted so kindly.  He had his cowboy hat on and boots, I am not sure what I was expecting, but he just talked to me. He was such a calm presence. He had a calm gentle nature and right away I was put at ease. He asked me questions; he ate his breakfast. He enjoyed the little things, and I was intrigued, like who is this guy.  He had slides in his presentation, but he shared from his heart.  His presentation was so much more than the words, there was feeling, heart and experience. He talked from and about his heart. His kindness to everyone, was amazing I just watched as he interacted with the room.  He heard and listened to each and every person that spoke. The time went by so quickly, and then he talked about a few of his students, the progress they made, things they said, and he teared up speaking about them, that passion, that care.  I had to reach out to him.  SO, I did.  I was scared and thought he would blow me off. I was at that point where I was like what is the worse that he is going to tell me no.  I at least had to try!   People like that don't come around often.  He answered right away.  I think it was the second email I told him about Speak your Silence and asked if that would be something he would do and without any hesitation, he said of course tell me what I need to do. I was nobody and this person was going to go out of their way to help me.  I am pretty sure I cried at my desk reading the email.  Someone going out of their way for me, that meant more than I think he will ever know. I can say today that I love this man more than words, I am most grateful that he always makes time for me and cares for my heart like I have never known.  I am grateful for his hugs when I feel that I am everything except lovable.  I am grateful for his texts when I just leave but have to remind him how grateful I am one more time.  I am grateful for his laugh, when the world seems exceptionally crazy.  I am grateful that all the places and things that I have done brought me here and now to this place to be able to grow and learn with a one in a million.  I think with Mark, I will get to that place where I am ready to leave.  I for once will be the one saying you know, I am ok.  I don't think I need you anymore.  Don't get me wrong there is always going to be a need, but it will change.  I look forward to being done, being in a place that my past doesn't seem so heavy. I look forward getting to meet for Coffee and tell him the things that are happening and seeing that twinkle in his eye.  I look forward to that cup of coffee when we can sit, and all is well with the world and my heart.  I am lucky enough to have him and lucky enough that he said what do I need to do for someone who meant nothing.  Here's to coffee someday and all the journey that got me here. 

I heart your heart

A part

 I was never someone's favorite, nor a person's first choice once they were given options right in front of them. My presence was not that kind of a head-turner—I was just a wallflower in any situation that I was in; always afraid to join the crowd, for I might get lost in an ocean of people with no one to notice my discomfort. I was never someone's destination, always just a part of their journey as to where they were heading to; only the lighthouse to guide them to their safety.

All this time, I blamed myself for not being worthy enough, even just a stare. Was I meant to be alone, I questioned my own being.

—Ren Ednalig

Oh my gosh this. This. All the time I think maybe I am just meant to be by myself. This is perfect for how I am feeling right now. As the holidays are upon us with Thanksgiving being here tomorrow, I think a person realizes just how alone that they are. There are no dinner invitations, no special things being made for you because they are your favorite. I have always had favorites. I tend to hold on for dear life to people that mean the world. Don't get me wrong there are a few people that will reach out tomorrow. I can tell you There are 4 people. Val and Neil, Beth, Stacey and Mark. I feel more than lucky that I have these people that they are there that they know my heart. These people are forever, but there is still a sadness. Some are far away, and they have their own lives, their own families. These next weeks are just lonely. Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years and I will be alone. There are not people to celebrate with. I will push myself and do things for Vincent and Mariska. I will be happy and smile but inside I wish that there was a part of me that I could share with others. A part of me that would get to celebrate with others

I often think that if I could just accept that this is the way that things are. If I could just be ok that this is just my path in life. I don't have a bad life just a very lonely one. Then there are other times I think no Callahan keep looking for the things that you want. Someday, Someday all that you long for are things that will finally be yours. Such a battle between the two. Sometimes I think if I could just accept it, and be happy things would be much better, then there is that fighter part for me that thinks NO NO NO there has to be something more for me than being lonely. This year I am in the thought that this is just how things are. And I wish that there was a way for my heart to just be ok with what I have and stop wishing for more, stop wishing for things that are not meant for us. Just a rough time of year.

I heaert your heart

Thanksgiving 2022

 

Well, another year for the record books.  Some things should not surprise me anymore, but they do and they still hurt.  I guess a person can never be sure about close to anything. It is finally the day after Thanksgiving, and I am glad.  That means another day when this season will be over.  I am dreading most of it.  I am looking forward to those getting the gifts that I have gotten for them but everything else is done.  I am tired and drowning and there is no end in sight.  I like to plan for the holidays, so I know what to expect, I like to be ready and prepared.  So, a few weeks ago, my brother and I were planning Thanksgiving.  Then he went silent.  I know that is never a good sign, but I hold on to hope.  SO, I send a message about a week later, hello, what is going on Thanksgiving.  The response that I got sent chills up my spine.  "I don't know we may drop over".  Drop over?  So, I am supposed to wait around until you decide to come over?  No never mind don't bother.  So, I make the decision, you know what I am not doing a huge dinner, and cleaning everything up myself.  We are going to go for Chinese.  We are going to do things differently, we are going to enjoy the day and when Vincent gets off work, we are going out to eat.  I look it up it says that they are open all is fine. Perfect I have a plan, and we are going to create some new good memories. Still no more communication with my brother. I found out later that the ex's mother and sister were supposed to come and that is why I was being once again overlooked; I am crushed. I have to do things for my kids, just pretend that I am not totally hurt.  Just smile and pretend.  I so tried; I tried but the tears still escaped. Many times, through the day they asked if I was ok, if I was going to cry, if I had allergies.  I just kept busy saying that I was fine.  

This time last year, was a disaster, I was in the hospital with Chris all week my mother was in her room with covid.  Little did I know that the last coherent conversation that I would have with my mother ever would be Thanksgiving night 2021.  I knew that this year I needed things to be different. I should have known better. It's true that some things never change, as much as you want them too. 

Thanksgiving comes around, I say Happy Thanksgiving.  I get an emoji thing saying almost Thanksgiving. That was it that was all.  I was crushed but I felt it in my bones, but still, that does not make it any easier.  But it was fine, we had plans for the day.  Mariska was great, Vincent was working.  Then i asked Mariska to call and make sure the place was open to make sure we would be there in good time and not have to worry.  She looked it up and said mom you have to come see this.  Like seriously right now!   And yep, they were closed.  I think those were the first tears of the day I tried to brush it off like no big deal, but it was a really big deal, and I was crushed and alone.  I kept busy kept smiling.  Got chicken thawed out Vincent made that.  Not another word from my brother.  Not a single word.  That is what hurt the most.  Last year we moved everything around and brought and entire dinner to him, and this year nothing.  He is so self-centered; I cannot even stand it.  He is not the only one that has things going on in his life.  There is a part of me that just needs to stop trying.  I cannot be disappointed anymore by things that aren't surprising.  I would love to have you in my life.  I want you to be a part.  If you continue to dismiss and ignore me and my family, then I just can't.  I cannot be disappointed anymore. I am one of the only people that would totally jump in front of a train for you, and this is how I get treated.  NO, NO that just doesn't work for me. I think that I have to let him figure out what he wants. what he thinks is important and what exactly it is that he wants to spend his energy on.  I am tired of expending mine on people and things that could care less.  

I heart your heart. 

Never First

 I think that this is something that I have struggled with most of my life.  I have never been first choice, never been a favorite never been that one person.  I have never been that person even for my own family.  There is always something more important, or better.  And I think that for the most part i get used to it until that one thing happens and I think SHIT, here we go again.  Why am I always an option and not a priority. 

Well, it was like that again this year for Thanksgiving.  Chris and I were going to have Thanksgiving together.  Then he goes silent, no texts no communication.  He said I will call you then never does.  Well Thanksgiving is coming up and I kind of need to make plans, what do I need to buy, what is happening, what are we thinking.  So, I text him hey, what is going on for Thanksgiving?  The responce, well I don't know, maybe we will stop by.  Sure, asshole a knife in my heart.  Stop by.  Well, you my friend are a self-centered Ass hole and no stopping by is not ok.  We will be making other plans and you can go fuck yourself.  

A few days later I found out that the girl friends' mother and sister were coming in town, so I was going to be thrown to the wolves to fend for myself.  So not ok.  Last Thanksgiving, he was in the hospital, so we made dinner and brought it all to him in the hospital.  Then there was the Carly Drama, and everything turned into a mess, of course I was the outcast, the one that was making trouble.  My mother's last Thanksgiving, she had a few words over the banister because she had covid.  She said that I needed to call the nurse's station and let them know.  She was full of words for all the things that I needed to do.  Yea all of that was last year.  And I was going to maybe get a stop by.  No that is not ok. I have feelings to, I also have things going on , the world doesn't revolve around you and your drama Chris. 

I also find out that he has now left said girlfriend and if they are still coming the girlfriend's mother and sister), he will need a place to stay for a few days; yes you are welcome here.  I don't know why, maybe because that is just who I am, but I will not change my plans for you.  I will not be at your Becking call; I will not pretend that my feelings are not crushed when you think nothing of me.  So, the kids and I are going to Chinese this thanksgiving.  Because I am tired of having nowhere to go and no one that puts us first.  And not being invited anywhere.  I know people have their own families, but I guess it hurts that I don't have any place. I guess this is not a new thing, but it is a thing that I am tired of.  I will go out of my way a million times, but I am tired of my heart getting trampled on in the process.  

So, what is he doing for thanksgiving.  I do not know, his plans change like the weather, and I am tired of being hurt.  My children are what matter, and we are going to have one hell of a time eating to many eggrolls, Mariska eating her little corny dogs and Vincent eating, who knows what, but I am sure it will be something that he has never tried before. 

I can no longer hear about the drama in his life and in a few weeks, things will be exactly the same.  I am tired of hearing how he raised these kids and blah blah.  He checks out when he feels like it and doesn't even understand that that isn't ok.  He talks about things that are inappropriate and involves them in things that are adult issues and decisions, and I can't do it.  The boundaries that are crossed with Carly are things that I cannot overlook that give me the chills.  He can blame it on my past that he knows very little about, he can blame it on whatever he wants, things that go on are not ok.  Their relationship makes me more than uncomfortable, and he can't see that.  It is all the icing on the worst cake that you have ever seen.  Things that he knows about me are things that he has heard from my mother.  He doesn't know the me that I am today, and how I have had to fight to get here.  I am by far perfect, but I am me.  That me that I am doesn't seem to be an important part of the family.  I will focus on my family and doing things different and having an amazing time doing it. 

I will never come first, I will never be a priority my needs will never matter, and he will never understand.  It is ok for him to shut people out until he feels like coming back around, its ok for him to do a lot of things but I can't have an opinion.  So many things are not right.   I am more than tired of never even being a though, my feelings never considered, Once, I want to come first or at least be a thought and have an adult conversation about it. 

Almost a Year

 Hard to believe that its almost been a year. Almost a year without my mom.  Today I was cleaning out more of the upstairs living room; making things more my own and it makes me glad.  It feels good for things to be mine and to make them pretty and happy and me.  I am still more than hurt by her actions and her words. I don't understand so many things.  There are still so many questions that I will never have answered.  There are still so many things, that will never make sense, that I will never understand.  There is a realization sometimes that I don't have a mom anymore and I am not sure what to do with that really.  Our relationship was so off and on , more than rocky. Really, I guess there is nothing to do.  My heart is still really broken, I don't remember the last time she gave me a real hug.  I don't remember the last time that she was proud of me.  I remember the last conversation with her, it was Thanksgiving night after I got back from the hospital.  I told her about Chris and Carly.  She took it upon herself to call him and give him her thoughts which led to him calling me asking what in the hell I said when I got home.  Chris berated me on the phone, I yelled at him saying that I gave my opinion and shared how uncomfortable that I was and I told him goodbye. A thanksgiving for the record books. Then her leaning over the banister, saying that she was sorry she didn't mean to blow things up.  Yea, that.  There are a lot of things that I don't remember with her.  There are a lot of things that hurt more than words. I remember when she got back from Alaska and wanted her and I to take a trip together.  I told her no, I made excuses, really that was the last thing that I wanted to do. I often see her pictures and it stings. I didn't know who she was anymore, and she had not known me for some time.  She didn't like me being my own person.  She didn't really like many things about me.  There are things that I miss, but I don't miss her here in my own home.  I don't miss the judgements, the secrets the glares.  I don't miss her treating my children so very different.  I don't miss being left out.  I don't miss the talk about dr appointments, and procedures, which seemed to be the only thing that made her happy.  I don't miss the poor me attitude that I wasn't what she wanted or needed.  I think that maybe someday when my heart is able to heal, I will be able to miss her.  Right now, there are no warm and cozy thoughts.  It was the kid's graduation that I was able to say wow she would have loved this.  I am sorry for my children that she missed that.  I have been sad because I no longer have a mom.  But sadder for my brother.  Sadder for Vincent.  The sad isn't there for me it is more relief.  I am not sure that many will understand that.  Living with her as more than hard.  I couldn't be the person that I am.  I wanted to be who I should have been for a long time, and she made that impossible. I wish her peace; I hope that she is happy wherever she is.  I hope that she transitioned easy and is in light.  For me it's going to take more time to miss her to be sad for me.  

Dear Proud Moment

 Dear proud moment, 

Finally Finally YOU ARE HERE! 

I have looked forward to this day for a really, really long time. I have dreamed about this moment and often thought maybe it was not meant for me.  A day when I would no longer hang my shoulders because of my story. A day when I would confidently know that this is a part of me, and just that a part not the whole of me. This moment has been a very long time in the making, when I no longer dread the fact that my story is different. My story is different, that is just how things are. I have survived things that are not meant to be survived. I have endured much of those things on my own and yet here, I stand finally having my very own proud moment.  A day when a question would be just that, a question.  A question that I may choose to answer or maybe not. If I choose too, I would confidently be able to answer without any ounce of shame and embarrassment.  A question asked and I would be able to proudly answer, wow the day has finally come.  I would take a breath and if it was necessary, if it would make a difference, if they would listen, I could proudly answer.  I could answer as a survivor, a warrior. I could answer as a woman that was proud of herself, proud of her survival and proud of the decisions that she has made in this often not so kind life.  The proud moment when I can stand on my own to feet; look someone in the eyes and say ye that is a piece of me, a part of my story but there are so many more pieces.  I never imagined all those years ago when I was scared to say the things that were most in the dark that they would be empowering and not devastating. When the words, all the words came out of my mouth there would no longer be dread, there is no longer self blame and no longer that feeling that I am less than anyone else.  To be proud instead of worthless.  To be proud instead of embarrassed.  To be grateful that I survived to live the life that I have created.  This is my moment, the moment I have fought for and I moment that I will never be able to forget.  I was raped at 5 and learned to love the little things.  I was raped until I was 9 and learned to see light in the things that no one notices.  I was gang raped at 13 and learned that I had an inner fight that kept me alive.  I lost my baby girl but she gave me strength.  And even still Yes, I was raped and got pregnant .  And yes they are the biggest miracles that I could have ever dreamed of.  All a part of my story that I have peeled and examined to become the women I am today.  All parts of me.  Finally I am not ashamed.  There are still some days those things ache but I hold my heart and breathe and remember how far that I have come.  I am no longer embarrassed and ashamed.  I am no longer gross disgusting.  I am a girl who was hurt who learned to love life and the parts of me that helped me survive. The girl she once was and the women that she is today: we are so proud.  

  

Moment of time

Dear Moment in time,

It was a mere moment, but it lasted a lifetime. Burnt into every fiber of my being. A lifetime that would strip me of any dignity or humanness that I might have had left. The words that were spoken stung like lightning and I struggled to find meaning inside my 13-year-old brain.  I think my first thought was that maybe I was too loud, because I don't remember. In my house it was never acceptable to make any noise, I just laid there thinking I did something wrong.  I was face down on my parents' bed.  My hands were tied behind my back. I was cold and terrified.  I was confused and didn't understand why he hadn't left yet.  He had taken all that he wanted; I was just the remains of the day.  My mind was going in every direction, I was struggling to figure out his next move, so I would be free, clean up and just pretend that everything was ok. He was naked kneeling beside me, my face towards the bedroom door, and I heard them at the front door. At first there was panic thinking it might be my parents and things were not in order. I was worried what they would think and how many bad decisions I made for this to happen.  But the laughing I heard the laughing, the laughing that echoes that I will never unhear.  I knew it wasn't my parents.  And I saw them in the bedroom doorway, and don laughed and said, "she's a screamer" and he hit me.  The shame and embarrassment were unimaginable.  These men were standing there as I laid with my hands tied, I was their prisoner.  I was so exposed, I wanted to die, somehow just disappear into that waterbed. They were staring and gawking and laughing and I was a little girl that was trying to understand.  I had no idea what was going to happen to me. I had no idea, the kind of hell that was even possible. The things that little girl would live though.  I sit here writing and I feel the moment, the coldness, those eyes, all those eyes that were staring. My arms are achy, my ribs remembering the pain.  I feel the chills. She laid there with so many questions thinking about her getaway and today, I know that there was nothing that could have been done.  I was nothing, I was less than human.  I was that girl that was the screamer, I was the girl that they all laughed at. This is also the moment that I caught eyes with Andy.  He wasn't laughing.  I still do not know why he was there, but he wasn't like the rest.  He was there, yes and there are many many questions that I will never have an answer too, but he was why I didn't die.  He was the one who treated me like a human, who helped when he could. He covered me when I was shivering. Just one moment in time yet a lifetime of terrifying moments.  I close my eyes and I am there.  I want to run; I want to hide. I wish with every cell I could forget it all.  I am still not sure how a girl can survive such things and become a whole person again.  I feel rotten inside when I remember. I feel like their hands are still inside twisting and tangling all that was never theirs. I remember the little things, the way that the sun was shining in the window.  The way that they all stood.  The feeling of the wrinkled comforter, on my face. Feeling don's knee at my shoulder, it's those little things that are etched in my soul.  The entire time thinking if I was better, if I was different these things wouldn't be happening.  My insides are still reeling 34 years later. There are still so many moments locked in my mind, locked in my soul but this one is free, this one is no longer silent and someday this moment will not be felt in my bones. It needs air to heal and I am giving it that, no matter how much it hurts.  Someday my heart will not be weighed down by things such as this...  The first memory and moment to find the light.   

I heart your heart

Rough Patch : She always is

 

Things always seem to get more difficult when I am trying to get close and understand her.  She is this ball of fire, that is strong and capable yet soft, vulnerable. She carries a sadness that is unbearable.  I am learning to see her not as the women that I always have but the girl who was that way because that was all that she knew to be.  When I am really trying to embrace her, the bruises get worse, the nightmares get worse as if that is even possible. When she is around everything feels 100 times heavier from the little things to the big things. She holds a darkness, maybe it's the darkness that I talk about.  When things were so bad, and the entire world went black.  Yea that, she holds that.  I believe she has always held that to protect me.  I feel like I need to be on a beach somewhere, with the waves crashing and the sand at my feet to soften the blows of all her experiences.  Somehow the ocean has always been her friend when things were bigger than her.  The ocean was her safety and protector.  I need that.  I wish that I could gather my favorite people and bring them to a place that is all ours so I can get close enough to grab her and hold her and tell her that everything is going to be ok.  I wish there could be some kind of transfer, so she can run free, playing in the waves. I hope maybe she can run with little Callahan and enjoy all the things that she never thought were meant for her.  Then I can take what was never hers to carry and share it with those people around me, and they can love me through the ugly.  They can hold me while I cry.  They can hold space when I need the silence and then together when we are finished, when all the dark places have seen the light.  When all the shadows have been spoken about then we can all celebrate and bury the pain and hurt in the deepest sand and all dance together; because all we see is the light and the good things that are ahead.  

When I think about her it feels so lonely like we are so different that no one can ever understand.  I have to remember that I must do it in little pieces because I am still living.  I think that sometimes we both forget that those dark things that happened didn't kill us. There were many many times that we wish they did because the pain and hurt that they caused is just that damaging but we are still here alive!  Often, we freeze in the memories like they are happening in the here and now.   I am still alive; What was supposed to kill me didn't and now I am here to heal the pieces.  Pieces of me and pieces of her.  And together we can find the happy that we long for.  There are so many emotions and feelings, and the tears seem to be coming all the time.  Her sadness is leaking into my day to day. So these are just some things that are pictures into our hearts; into the heavy things that we are carrying right now.  We are trying so hard to be brave and strong.  We are doing our best navigating this healing that we want more than anything.  But the healing is harder than the hurt.

I look forward to the day when I no longer question whether I am worthy or not.  I look forward to the day that I am can be comfortable in my own skin, despite the things that have happened, despite all the things that others have said and done.  I fear I may be 90, but with all that I am I keep trying to find that worth.

I will be glad when that need to  be fixed to feel whole lessens and I can just be.  Sometimes I want so much to be understood that either people leave or I just remove myself pretending.  I am so over pretending, with myself with everyone and someday I hope that makes a difference. I want to be happy too.

Oh the noise in my head.  I hear other words and opinions and views and I take them all in.  I need to learn that there is enough negative inside for many lifetimes; I need to let things go that are not meant for me that don't feel right that don't bring me peace.  I want to hear more of those voices that are kind constant and true.

I am such a watcher.  I am a sideline sitter because, I feel it to be so much safer.  Yes, safer but at what cost.  You watch life so afraid because you know that one more thing and you could be broken forever.  Such a struggle. Wanting to belong and fearing the hurt.  For me often they are one in the same. 

Yes, A car crash in my bones.  A tragedy that is mine that I just cannot look away from.  Every second I am trying to find some kind of rhyme and reason. Something that I could have done differently to not be so damaged. I hate myself because I am working so hard, and it is taking me so long. I think there are good things out there for me and more often than not I am the one that gets in the way.  I hate that there is such a grip that I long to make things make sense when in every bone I know that there is no sense at all.  

There is a place in my head where all the things are on repeat.  I see them as clear as I see these words and there is no emotion no feeling; they are just there looking for a home a place where they can rest.  The only difference is that so many of those things don't have the air to come out of my body.  They are big and unimaginable, and I cannot for the life of me give them any breathe to come out and to be free.  I fear that once that receive the air they need that I will crumble and there will not be enough glue or kindness to put me back together.  In my head the stories play.  In the world, they are silent. 

There is such a part of me that feels so trapped.  I work so hard and yet, the nightmares persist.  I work so hard to heal and the bruises get worse.  There is such a part that feels, overwhelmed and damaged and that is the part that needs healing the most that feels the furthest away. I need this part to be free but I worry about the consequences. 

I am not sure that others understand.  By the time that i say that I am done, by the time that I say I don't have a smile left great damage has been done.  I am going to have to fight twice as hard to get what was lost back. People cannot understand this.  The weight that I am able to carry is huge!  Bigger than you can imagine but when I begin to crack, repair takes much more than if care was given in the first place. 

People have suffered greater things and are living life to the fullest.  I do not understand those days when I would rather curl up in a ball than live any kind of life at all. 

I drown daily. And no one even notices. 

Yes, it is.  I know in my head I have already lived through it I am still here a living breathing person.  But the reality of what happened, and the reality that you were failed by so many is another level of unworthiness that sticks to your soul and has tentacles that attach to everything.  Often there are thoughts that if it was really as bad as I remember then I would be dead.  Living though the life that I have lived is worse now because there is a woman in charge and not a scared little girl who wanted nothing more that her innocence. 

I will never stop, but FUCK I am so very tired. 

Yes this.  

It seems for me I was always the one that was wrong.  I was the defective girl.  I was the always that other girl that no one wanted anything to do with.  That makes things today exceptionally hard, because when things happened there was not a single person that believed in me, no one told me that what happened was the bad thing and not me. 

Sometimes I feel the growth I feel like the breakthrough is so very close.  I feel a little Freier and a little more whole.  But those last moments, so when they come, I hold on and stay still trying to hold on to them as long as I can.

I often forget that this is yet another layer.  If feels like a backslide but it's just a little deeper a little closer to the center.  I know I will be ok I always am.  But in these hard times, the joy just isn't there.  Life is hard, I want to pretend what it must be like for those that cannot understand this past of mine.  I wish for a few seconds I could forget and experience life without these trauma goggles of mine. 

Yes, this I needed so much.  And the hard part is that sometimes today I still feel like I need that.  But today as a 46-year-old woman, those things are not an option.  Like I often feel guilty for the things that I need because those things are not an option for a grown woman. 

I am not sure that I believe in the saying you can't give what you don't have. 

Because I will give and give and give and give until there is nothing left of me and not one person that I come in contact with ever has to feel the things that I have in this life. 

Oh, sweet, amazing brave girl all of this for you.  Someday you will find that happy.  Someday you will be free.  Someday, with tears in my eyes I will hug your little body and you will be excited to live the life that you never got to live. You will be a part of me that I will treasure forever. You will be free from the pain. You will no longer hurt or feel any more hands.  You will never forget but you won't remember the demons. You will always know that you will never ever be alone again. You will know that you are worthy and so loved just because that is how you were meant to be. All of this for you. 

I heart your heart.