Parts of me

 

It is more than hard to understand and wrap my head around the things that have happened in this life of mine. There are parts So vivid, I can tell you details about every color smell and sensation. There are things I remember that are fuzzy, that have missing pieces. There are other things that overwhelmed all that I know, and like a too bright light the flip was switched and I went  far away. Sometimes in the clouds, other times a corner even sometimes floating on the ceiling. Sometimes I went to a so dark place, where I am not sure that I was even breathing. This sounds so crazy, but this is how I walk around every day. This is how I live. There are bits and pieces of me everywhere and I am trying do do everything required of me, all the time trying to gather and collect these pieces to feel like I am whole, to feel worthy and loveable.  I am fighting every day to find my place in a world that doesn't understand where I have been.

My heart is tired. My very soul exhausted.  I have fought more than hard for the five year old part of me to live the life that every little one deserves.  Finally I see her running playing. She is no longer weighed down from all that was taken. It is still there, those things don't just go away or get forgotten, but they don't sting her anymore. She has become everything that a five year old should be. Still in a way she is alone, because there are no  friends, But She is not bothered. Lately I am the one bothered, somewhere in my mind I think ok you have played enough. Somehow I want her to be serious and stop playing.  There is a part of me that wants to tell her ok playtime is finished we have work to do.  I always say that I want the three of us all together on the couch and I picture little Callahan and she is upside down, her head hanging over the edge, her feet up in the air with out a care in the world.  I want that for her so much, yet there is another part that is thinks come on please be a little serious, there are still so many things to learn and to figure out. I am trying really hard , trying not be jealous, because I am glad she can play, but I don't understand playing for this long.  I don't understand living with out a care in the world.  

I really wish that I could draw, because the couch that I am sitting on feels overwhelming, Part of me is upside down giggling life away, free as can be.  Another part of me is scared at the world, scared to let anyone in, she thinks she can do everything on her own and she believes that she has too, because who else is there in the world that is going to stick around long enough to let her be and feel what ever it is that she needs to feel.  She doesn't believe there is a single person in the world that would be able to understand why she sees the world so different and why she is so afraid of living. More than anything I think she wants to let her guard down but she is more than afraid of being hurt, of someone hurting her again.  She still lives back there, and she feels the weight of all that was done to her.  She bears the weight of such cruelty that she can't see the other side.  She hears that it is there,  and there are times that she wants it more than anything but she is just so afraid.  More afraid that a single person should ever have to feel and experience. 

Then there is me on this couch with a wild child afraid of nothing, loving to laugh and thinking of nothing but being a kid and playing , laughing .  Then there is the other part of me that I would just like her to get close enough to sit on the couch and just be because I so know how she is feeling and where she has been.  I even understand how afraid that she is and I am stuck in the middle trying to make sense and see them as what they are just parts of me that helped me survive, but I see them as living littles that are struggling to figure out the cards that they have been dealt.  I just want things to make sense.  I want the past to hurt less and I want to feel like one whole person not parts and pieces. I want us all to make sense, and in my head it doesn't and I feel crazy.  There are parts and pieces of little Callahan parts and pieces of me and parts and pieces of thirteen year old.  I am struggling and I want so much to make sense, and be ok with where I am and the life that I have survived.  I need more little Callahan for me and Thirteen year old.  We don't play and let go in life and we so need a break.  

I heart your heart