I am reaching, and I am terrified. You have to understand where I am and why I am so very scared. There are days that I wished they had killed me. I do not want to die, but where I live is just that hard. There is a sadness that I don't even have words for, its the deepest darkest kind of sadness that I believe there ever has been. I live in a place that is dark , terrifying and ever so violent. But this is also what I know. There is a part of m that is comfortable here, because I am at fault and no one can hurt me because its all already been done. There is no peace there is no safety. I spend my time trying to survive trying to out think the ones that hurt me. I spend my time trying to find the reasons why and how I could have changed the things that happened to me. My body aches all the time. I feel what they did to me in my bones and I have to fight to make even the smallest movement. Sometimes I can still feel their hands because for me it wasn't 33 years ago it was yesterday. I am ashamed and embarrassed that I spend so much time trying to make sense out of what was done. I am ashamed when I want to talk about it just so I don't have to carry it anymore. I spend my time replaying what has happened thinking about all the things that I could have done different. All the things I should have done differently so that someone believed me and cared for me. You have to believe that I have wanted out of this hell for so very long, but I feel like a burden to everyone. I feel like the things that have happened to me are things that I must carry and figure out on my own. I feel like the things that have happened have made me unclean and something so disgusting. I feel the worst kind of disfigurement, something less than human. That is where I live in this deep dark alone.
The weight I carry is crushing but I feel as though, there is no other way. I tried to reach out so many times, and was either ignored ,blamed or made fun of. Sometimes it is better living with the pain alone then trying to reach out only to feel like you have been slapped across the face and belittled. I feel more than insignificant, because I was never seen and cared for. I was never understood and made to feel like I mattered in this world. I just got in the way, I was made to believe that I was a liar and only wanted attention. I didn't want attention, that was the last thing I ever wanted! I just wanted someone to love me and to care, no one saw that. I wanted someone to notice the things that were happening to me and do something. I wanted more than anything for someone to just protect me. I wanted someone to ask me questions and listen to the hard answers so that I didn't have to carry it on my own. I needed someone to hear what was done to my soul and tell me that I wasn't as awful as I believed I was. I needed someone to hear the words that I was unable to find. I wanted someone to tell me that what happened mattered that I mattered as a human. The things that were done to me, I felt less than human really, I was nothing.
As devastated and hurt as I am parts of me were buried. It is easier being buried alive, then thrown to the wolves for the taking yet again. If others couldn't handle the small things, the few facts that they knew the mere words of gang rape, and sexual assault, and five men from dawn to dusk to turn after turn there was no way in this world that they could have helped me in any way. Not one person saw past the words and saw me. The saw the word rape, and they saw the unpopular girl and their thought was who would do that to me well I have spent my entire life trying to figure out those why's. No one saw that scared little girl bruised beyond imagination. Most of my body was black and shades of purple for weeks on end. Not one person saw me, not one person looked inside the heart of me; the emotionless little girl that sat on that bed. Everyone was talking at me and about me, no one noticed that even then that day I finally told, I was already far far away. They were quick not to see the emotion, but if they really looked there were so many things that they would have seen in my eyes. I had survived the first attack. Beating myself up for wanting all the innocent things in life. There was a part of that believed I deserved it, I danced with with him I flirted, I acted what I call 'stupid 13" and I paid the price. I believed this is what happens to me and went into a shell. I knew that no one was going to be there for me, I had learned that from before I knew that life was supposed to be different. He showed up again, I was in a state of shock and then he invited his friends. All day turn after turn and I was still the one to blame. Questions never asked of my parents just accusing fingers at me.
I was dying inside with every question of doubt and learned this is what happens to me. It didn't matter that I was only 13, it didn't matter that there were 5 men violating me that entire day; No one cared. Not one person CARED. So I have spent all this time in the dark living in the hell that I know trying to understand the abhorrent person that I must be to have these things happen over and over and not a single person stepping up, making things stop or keep asking questions for me to be heard. By the time Don came the third time, there was nothing left. I was done with the world, I wanted to die. This is just what happens to me in this world, and I wanted nothing to do with it. Give him what he wants because he is going to take it anyway. I am still more than angry that I saw him and there was no fight left. He came looking for a fight, but didn't find one. I didn't have it in me I was too busy trying to do school and life smile and just pretend that I was fine because it doesn't really matter if I was or not anyway. I don't have answers for big parts of this time, loosing Bella and who was there, what happened to me what happened to her ? That Dr that showed such kindness. I don't understand why I don't know such big important things.
I want in time for some of those answers to come. I want to understand what happened to her. I am reaching, I want things to be different and I am scared of being left alone. I am scared that I don't have the right words . I hate that there are things about that time that are fuzzy, there are big parts and pieces that I don't have answers for. I remember bits and yet other pieces are totally gone. I am terrified to reach out to connect and then be left all alone once again. I can not be exposed to the evilness alone. I can not pretend that I am fine anymore, or that I am strong enough to do this on my own because I am not. I am afraid to let the words out that I have choked on for so long. I fear that I somehow will turn to dust and there will be nothing left of me. I need so much care, and understanding. I want to reach out, I want to be in the light and I just don't know what that is like, life has been dark for as long as I can remember. I long to be understood. I long to feel like a human valued for who I am. I know that leaving the dark there are things I will carry with me, but they can't thrive like they do in the darkness.
You know how a hoarder has to go through everything in their house, because each little piece might have something so important. It's like that for me there are things that won't be a big deal and things that may seem little that are really big to me. That is what coming out of the dark is like. I am reaching, reaching with all that I am just understand the fear and sad because I can't reach out to be left again I wouldn't make it. I am afraid that once I get the words I do have out of me. the exhaustion will set in. I have been fighting alone for so long. You have to know that I am reaching I am trying and I want so much more for this life of mine. I look forward to the day I can sit in peace and feel connected to who you are and know that we are truly going to make a place for us in this world. I am reaching, trusting and more than ready. I am grateful you are fighting for me, grateful for a chance to find my voice.
Oh little 13 year old girl, you break my heart. I am here.
I am here today just waiting to love you, I have got you and I am never going to let go. I promise that you will never be left alone again. If it takes a year or our lifetime. Let me love you. You deserve every happily after. Rest little girl, you have been fighting long enough.
I am going to ask something really big of you. I know that terror is a place that you live. I know that sometimes you are frozen in the things that have happened to you. You spend hour after hour replaying all the assaults in your mind thinking about how you could have done things different. How you should have said something, anything in a different way to make people believe you. I know that you blame yourself for loosing Bella. You blame yourself for wanting to be noticed and cared for. You blame yourself for dancing and for that innocent kiss. You carry enough shame to last the entire universe its entire lifetime. I know I know you do. I am going to ask you to be insanely brave and trust me just this once so we can move forward and find our happy. You see because you are waiting for some perfect magical time, when you can trust someone enough to hear you and hold you. I know that if you think everything is perfect and you have certain guarantees, then you can move on out of the darkness and come back to the land of the living.
There just isn't one perfect time ,place or thing to make all of this disappear. There isn't a way to make this right, and the hurt to completely disappear. We have to face those men, feelings and attacks, knowing we can't make them any different. We have spent our entire lives running from our own story. I can't run anymore, and I am tired of fighting. So please please take my hand, we can do this. I will never leave you, and I will do all that I can to protect you from this life. We have seen such cruel things in this world, and I am asking you to believe me that there are also good things. I am asking you to reach out. I can't do this on my own . I want you to know that I trust Mark with my heart, and I want you to know that you can too. We are waiting to be ready, for just the right moment and there isn't one. If we wait until you are ready, I will never heal and never be truly happy. You have suffered alone for entirely too long. I have suffered trying to save you, trying to make things easier, trying to protect everyone around me. We have been strong, but enough. I cannot do this on my own without you. I need you and your truths. I need you, your words, your view your experiences. I need you to be a part of me, not a girl who lives in the deepest dark past full of evil. I need you here and now.
The truth is we have suffered enough. We don't live back there anymore. I know that there are a lot of times when it feels like we do; We are not thirteen anymore. We are not a scared little girl looking to fit in. Terrible, unimaginable things were done to you that are never going to go away. But I need to heal and to do that, you have to come out of the darkness. I am not going to promise you that things will feel better as soon as you do, but I will tell you that it is a start. You beat yourself up for things that are not yours to carry. You literally beat yourself trying to figure out the how and why. I know you have questions but if you just let me help, let Mark help us we can find your pretty, your smile your unique spark again. We can find our value and worth. I know that gross and disgusting is something you feel in your bones, but when you reach out I promise you will see people that don't see the same things that we do. I feel it too but I also hear that I am not gross and disgusting, and sometimes hearing that we are not those things will sink in and we can hold our heads high and maybe even be proud of ourselves. Not everyone survives the things we have. Sometimes we are barely surviving in this life and I want more. I want us to be happy and free. I want us to know that we matter in this life. I have no clue what comes next , but I know that I can not let you live in the dark any longer. Just reach for me and I am here ready to hold on with everything that I am. We have to do this together. Your voice needs to be heard and I am willing to listen.
I will fight to get you back and tear you from the monsters in your head that have such a grasp on you. Here, today in 2022 we don't have to rely on other adults for our care, I can do that for you. I want to wrap you in all the love and kindness that you need and help you feel safe and sound. There are things that you have never felt and never got in this life that I can give you today. I can not give you everything, I can promise you there will still be struggle but you won't be in the dark and you won't be alone anymore. You have spent so much of your life trying to make things different, anything other than what they are. We have to own what has happened and grow. We have to own what happened and see the person that we are today. I can not guarantee you that this is not going to hurt. I can guarantee you that I am here. I can tell you Mark will care for your heart. I can tell you that you deserve some rest, you deserve some peace and you deserve to be seen and heard. You will be seen and your suffering acknowledged. I need you to do this for me, I need you living here and now with me . Even the bad days are better than living in that dark place where the memories won't let you go. I am here reaching for you, Just reach back. Sweet girl, you are just thirteen and you don't have to be so strong . you don't have to figure this out on your own. I am here, I am all in and we can do this together. Let me cover you in warmth safety and all the love you deserve, its been entirely too long.
I am not a fan of Mirrors. I have them in my house., I use them to make sure that my hair isn't a mess and necessary things but to really look at myself in a mirror. This week I have tried it and I don't like it because all I see is ugly, gross and disgusting. I don't want to look in my eyes and see all that I have seen . I look in the mirror and see what has been done. I look in the mirror and see all the hands that have taken what wasn't theirs. I see all the scars and marks that have long faded but are still felt when the memories get close. So somehow for a me a mirror is a reminder of the ugliness that I see in myself. I look in the mirror and feel less than. I look in the mirror and see all the things that I am not. I can look in the mirror when absolutely necessary but to really look at me and who I am, what I feel inside, that is more than painful. All I see is the ugliness of what's been done to me.
I look in the mirror and see all their hands . Everyone that has taken what wasn't theirs. Everyone that has more than hurt me down to the very core of who I am. Some people talk about there being a piece of them that no one can touch. I am not sure that I feel that way. I feel flawed down to the smallest cell of who I am. There must be something terribly wrong to be hurt so badly by so many people, for so many years of my life,
I look in the mirror and see parts and pieces. I see moments in time, I see bruises, and feel memories. I see the girl that has had to fight for her life. I see the girl that has been so used and abused that she worries she will never feel whole. I see the girl who is unlovable and flawed. So for me a mirror is a reflection of sadness, that I just can't change or make it any different. I will be grateful for those people who can see beyond the damaged parts of me. Those people are exceptional and few and far between. Someday I will hear those good true kind people over all the messages that I have gotten in the past.
There are parts and pieces of my life that are more than hard to acknowledge. I am not sure that I have the right words but I feel the need to try. Aug 22 2003. This is a date that forever changed my life that made me a mom that completely and forever changed the course of my life. I was in a not so great place. It was after I had testified in Boston and I was falling apart. I didn't care about anything anymore. I didn't believe that I had done enough, to protect Angela. I didn't make a big enough difference, I put my self through hell and for what, I felt like what I did didn't make a difference. I felt more than lost and so alone. I wanted nothing ore than to be a part of something, I wanted people in my life I wanted to find happy and for just once I wanted nothing more than to just feel happy. So talking to Charles that morning, I truly believed we were going to go shopping and get lunch, and if even for a small time, I just was going to be just a girl. I was so excited getting ready, I was that giddy kind of happy without a care in the world. So many things that I should have known but didn't.
He was late, he said he couldn't find my house. I gave him a hug as soon as I saw him. He smelled like smoke which I more than hate, but I didn't seem to care really. I did care but totally ignored it. I was ready to go, but all of the sudden we are taking a tour of the house and we end up in my room. I remember pointing out the mobile that I had above my door. It was round with many multi colored birds on it. It was supposed to keep evil doers away. Looking back kind of ironic that I made sure and pointed that out. There were so many red flags and I overlooked them all. Why would he want to see my house, a tour and end up in my room ? I didn't notice; my need to be a normal girl and just be was so strong. I can remember saying over and over but we are supposed to go shopping. Somewhere in my head the panic was setting in, because I kept saying it over and over. He wasn't listening to me. Over and over, but we are going shopping. I think my brain was more than afraid and I wanted to believe anything but this was happening. I remember his sunglasses fell off and he rolled on them and they broke and I felt guilty. And it wasn't until the last year I realized, that he put that pillow on my face. Pillows don't just fall on your face. They are put there to make you be quiet. They are put there to make the pleas and cries stop , The second I saw the pillow coming, the panic in every cell of my body froze . I remember feeling it on my face and just like that I was gone. I was far far away. No memory, no feeling, no nothing.
I don't know if I have the right words. I know what happened to me, because I have Vincent and Marika but in that moment there is no memory. Once he put the pillow on my face I was long gone until he was finished. After the pillow the next thing I remember is him getting off of me, and putting his clothes on, I can hear the sound of his belt clanging. Then he went to the rest room. I rolled over and the tears wouldn't stop. So in my head I was just an idiot, I was once again a stupid girl making stupid decisions. I made excuses, the pillow fell on my face and he didn't listen to me, But it was so much more than that. He didn't stop when I told him to stop He didn't listen when I pushed him away and said we were supposed to go shopping. And just like that he was walking out the front door admiring his shiny BMW. I just remember having a long shirt on, and I stood there watching him walk away, I was in a state of shock. This was not the morning that I had planned on.
Just like that in true Callahan Fashion I cleaned up made everything nice and neat and I cried and cried. This was just my life. A girl who so desperately wanted to belong and be normal being hurt beyond measure. Life went on. Numb to the world. Until I wasn't.
2 weeks later the morning sickness started, I was sick all day everyday. Thinking it was just the Flu, then the realization, this wasn't the Flu at all.
I took a test. Two pink lines. I laid on the floor and cried with my dog Rizzo. From that second on everything as about my sweet babies. Everything before that moment didn't matter and wasn't a part of my story. Literally Charles was not a thought.
There were comments from the ones I loved the most, that still hurt thinking about it. The one from my mother about how they were going to look like little monkey's. And the one from my brother that they were going to have N** lips. That was the environment I was pregnant in. Their words were like daggers, these were my babies that they were speaking about how dare they say those words. How dare they talk about my children like that.
I can remember telling Jason that I was pregnant and he was more than shocked and his first questions were was I doing drugs or drinking. No it wasn't. I never said what happened. I can just remember thinking I have to heal and be well by the time that my babies were here. They were all that mattered. They were always the good thing that I was grateful for. I am sure that if I would have told Jason he would have done things different. He would have said something and made me feel less awful. But I just couldn't. These were my babies and they were going to be what I focused on. And from that point on all that mattered was them.
When I went to my first Dr appointment and was asked about the father, he was so far removed that I thought he was talking about my father. I started talking about how he wasn't a nice guy and wasn't in my life, the dumbfounded look on the Dr's face. It took me a few minutes to realize he wasn't talking about my father but the father of the children that I was carrying. I didn't have words, and I can remember things being silent for a minute. I could not answer those questions. He was so far removed from my mind, Everything was about them.
And I continued that way for a very long time. They were all that mattered. After they were born when I went for food stamps, once again questions were asked about the father I couldn't answer their questions. I didn't have the information that they wanted and the case worker threw a pen at me across the table. I was devastated. I can remember crying and I went in the car to nurse Mariska. I am not sure how not one-person asked questions, because of my reactions, but no one did. So I carried the secret. I carried it hard. I put all of my attention into my beautiful children, they were mine and all that mattered. Every six months I had to renew food stamps and my stomach would be a mess because each time they would have questions and my answers remained the same. I didn't know.
I felt so much guilt and shame. I was the one who made those terrible choices. I was the one who wanted to be normal, wanted to go out with him. So many feelings . I can remember listening to a song by sara Mclaughlin Fallen over and over that I had so screwed up.
I was angry at myself for wanting to belong, angry that I didn't see so many red flags. Angry that once again I believed that someone was good and kind.
And life went on.
I had my beautiful babies. I was more than happy, they were all that mattered. I never took better care of myself. I had precious cargo growing stronger everyday. I was so happy. I loved every second of feeling them move, and hearing their little hearts. I would sit in their room and rock in their chair thinking about all the things we would get to do together . There were so many wishes and dreams that I had for them.
It wasn't until they were in Elementary school that I called what happened to me what it was and I wasn't even the one who said it. I was in counseling with James, we were talking about the kids and he asked something about their father. I am sure that my heart stopped because what happened to me didn't matter. They were the ones who mattered in all of this. So I started talking and I had always looked at it like he just didn't listen to me. I was a slut and he didn't listen it was that simple. I can remember sitting there in his office and hearing his words .....Did he rape you ? And the world stopped for some time. I shrugged my shoulders. I know we talked more but all I could hear were his words ? Did he rape you? In my head it was going to be easier to tell them that their mother was just a slut who deserved it than a rape victim who got pregnant. I held on to that, I thought it was the best for them. It was a process. One that took lots and lots of time to think about and try to figure out. There is no rule book for something like this. There are no right answers. There are no easy questions. I was aware that as they grew up there were going to be questions for them and that was going to be a struggle and not something that a mom can ever really prepare for.
As they grew there were times it was in my head, times I struggled. I once saw him on my way to school. I stopped the car and got sick. Once I got to school I called James and told him I just saw him. I was terrified, that look on his face, he knew what he had done and he knew who I was. It was hard driving that road for a long time. Because as they got older the thoughts of him grew and I didn't know what to do. When they were in middle school, during a trip to Colorado we had the conversation that he wasn't a good guy, and he didn't listen but that was the extent. Vincent cried, I just held him reminding him how I loved him and that he mattered more than anything. I told Mariska the same thing later sitting at the dining room table and she cried. Neither of them had any questions really.
It wasn't until later talking about it last year with Mark, that the pillow didn't just fall on my face. A pillow doesn't magically just cover a persons face. I had tried their whole lives to make me the slut the bad guy the one who made all the wrong choices. Mark put his hands in the air, and like dropped a pillow and it hit me hard. For the first time I realized that he put that pillow over my face. He did that on purpose, he knew exactly what he was doing. That is something that is so crazy. There was no amount of words to calm my inner storm. Those moments were life changing and literally took my breath away.
Still my children are all that matter. They are truly all that matters. As they have graduated and are moving on to new things, there are pieces of what happened to heal. There are things I struggle with that are my pieces to carry . They are things that they will have to carry because of me and I will forever be sorry for that. I struggle that Vincent identifies more as black, there is a part of that that kills me that feels like a betrayal. But I am your mom why doesn't that matter. I have to remember that no matter the race of charles Vincent is Vincent regardless. Someday I hope he can talk to me and we can have those needed conversations and he can understand. I have to see things different. I am working on it really hard.
This is one of those things no one askes for, I can promise I would do it all again to have them to get to be their mom. There are certain challenges that we all face Vincent Mariska and I. We all will face them differently, some together some alone. I have learned conversations must be had and their is no right way for them to go, these are uncharted waters. There is only one Mariska. There is only one Vincent and how they process this is theirs to own. But I hope they always know that I am here, I am here to answer every question the best that I can. It is my hope that they know I have so loved them from the very second I knew I was going to be their mom. They were always all that mattered. Now as they become young adults their are pieces of the story that I have to heal, that I have to allow myself to be free from. This is our story and someday I have to believe that it will make a difference and we will all be free.
My beautiful, amazing children this is for you. I love you more than you can ever imagine.
If I have learned anything over these last few crazy days, it is that people rush too much. They rush in traffic to get from one place to another. They rush to get somewhere and rush to leave. People are impatient and they miss the little moments that make life living. People are rushing all the time and no matter the rush we don't get there any faster, we don't win any kind of prize and time is just that time. Whether we rush or not it is the same amount of time.
At yesterday's graduation I was a little hurt, maybe a lot because I was surrounded by rushers. I was with people who couldn't stop and take in the moments. There were many tears because in every moment I was surrounded by people who didn't take in the moments who were in a hurry and moments were missed. There were a lot of people in Mariska's graduation almost 1200 students, yes that is a lot. Yes, it takes a lot of time. But each of those students deserve that time to be heard and acknowledged. Yes, towards the end I was a little restless, but I watched as each graduate showed their own personality as they received their diploma. Because these are moments that are once in a lifetime never again will they walk across the stage and receive their high school diploma. These moments will never happen again.
We dropped Mariska off, after missing the spot more than once. For me it wasn't a big deal I had never been in that area before there were things we didn't know. There were many huffs and puffs from the back seat. Even when I didn't know where I was going I asked for help and was not given any. Unnecessary comments were made that were just hurtful. The tears came and I kept pushing them back this was Mariska's day.
Vincent didn't even walk with me to get in line for us to get into the stadium. I tried conversation but he was annoyed we couldn't go right in even him standing in my presence was a bother to him. We got in and I didn't move fast enough, I didn't say the right words nothing I did was right. We made our way inside and I was in awe. I was soaking in every moment. The stage was set all 1200 chairs in place. I wanted to be in that moment. Everything was amazing and I could not believe that this day was here. We found our seats, they were perfect I was hoping that we choose the right side and would have a great View of Mariska. We saved the seats and we waited. Million of thoughts were running through my head.
Graduation is a time for families near and far and it was just Vincent and I. I felt more than alone and for the first time I thought my mom and aunt would have been so happy. I really wanted them there. And it made me so very sad that there was no one there to celebrate with. They would have loved every moment, and been in awe of the situation, the stadium my children. But once again I was alone. There was no family there, no one there on this momentous day. Then the video came on all about life at Plano Senior. I could not stop the tears. All the things that I never got to experience myself. The friends, the fun the atmosphere , the dances the careless do what makes you happy, I missed all of that in my life. So the tears just kept falling. I was all alone, missing family and being so sad about all that I never had. And excited that Mariska got to experience many of the things that I didn't, even if she hated those pep rallies ! . And for that I am more than grateful. So it was a super emotional time alone in a room full of people.
Finally, Chris showed up minutes before the ceremony. I was glad that he was there at least I wasn't alone anymore. But his family came and they are just sometimes loud and disrespectful. They come with him so I smile and nod a lot ! We were well into the ceremony and I start getting the looks, he is getting bored, he threatens that he is going to leave he can't do it anymore. I look at him and smile, so many things that I want to say but I don't. Be an adult and sit here, this is a once in a lifetime. More looks more comments and just like that, they leave before the ceremony is over. I was crushed I wanted to yell at him to sit down, and be an adult. Be patient these things take time , forever once in a life time experiences, enjoy the each second, all the things going on around you. He just couldn't do that. So I was once again alone for the end of Her graduation ceremony. We waited for the isles to clear, and we made our way to the front to look for Mariska. There being almost 1200 students, it was going to take some time. I was watching all the families and their excitement. People that were there young and old siblings and friends and everything in-between. The longer that I stood there I felt that I was missing so much. Vincent was not at all help full, he was unkind, huffy and so impatient. He yelled at me more than once and more than once I walked away. The worst comment was Bro, you are not thinking straight, with trailing mumbling, only because I was patiently waiting. Just enjoy the moment. This was Mariska's day and he was not going to ruin it. The tears were plenty, good thing for Sunglasses. We found her and I was lucky to get 2 pictures, and he started walking away. I wanted to wait and find my brother, only to get the message they were already on their way to the restaurant. In such a hurry and after graduation moments were missed. Mariska didn't seem to care, but I more than did. My heart was broken, because the people that are supposed to enjoy those moments didn't . I just tried to focus on Mariska and celebrating her.
Then there was even more drama since they got to the restaurant so early, they realized that there was a two hour wait . They were not happy, Vincent was nasty as ever. I didn't care, this was to celebrate Mariska, this was where we were going. I didn't understand the rush that everyone was in. My heart was achy. As soon as we got there; they were calling our names, no two hour wait and we were seated and Ana from Frozen was out server and she was magnificent. I kept smiling making everything special for her. The weight of the day was heavy. I was doing everything I could to make sure that happened. I was even still eating and they were ready to leave, I refused to eat any faster and enjoyed the atmosphere, then when we were done, well when I was done. We left and I focused on Mariska and celebrating her day. I made sure that I found Ana and we had our picture taken with her. Everyone thought it was stupid, but I was not going to miss that and ten years from now say, we should have taken that picture. Of coarse Vincent wanted to get home, he wanted to go out again. I very firmly informed him that this was Mariska's day to celebrate, and he was not taking my car. He was as unpleasant as ever. And later after we got home we went and got a Slurpee her favorite. We even tried to get a cake from Brookshires like 5 minutes before they closed but it was so expensive, we stuck with the Slurpee's and it was perfect.
So many moments were missed. So much rushing and many moments, I was crushed. I hope that Mariska didn't feel them. I hope that she enjoyed every single second. It was a heavy day so many emotions. I am glad I took in each and every moment, and glad that not for one second did I rush or try to please anyone else by rushing around.
I guess I wrote this as a realization that time is time and whether we enjoy the moment or speed through it ; it is exactly the same and I would much rather be there and present for each little moment then miss out on the smallest precious things of life that are the most important.
I heart your heart.
I think that for me today was a blaring picture of how fast that life moves and that sometimes it is more than important to slow down and enjoy all those little moments because those are the ones that matter.
There are many things that, have clung to me. Things that I fear I am holding onto for dear life. Have the same death grip on me that I have on them. It seems that the things that I was told, things that were said to me have stuck to me sucking the hope that was once there. Many terrible things have been said and I took each one of them in and made them truth. I somehow gave each of those things a home, in my heart mind and soul. Its like with every one of their words I took another swing with a sledgehammer to my heart; beating myself up for being so stupid. If I just answered things better, if I just did things different maybe they would have reacted differently. Over and over I have heard how those things that they said are not the truth; but hearing and experiencing their words, once just once was enough to make me feel that I had everything to do with the things that happened to me. And every day it is a struggle to believe that I am something other than unworthy, gross and disgusting. I hear their words as clear today as I did all those years ago. I still see it and I replay the pictures thinking maybe someday I will understand how I got the reaction that I did. Maybe if I was the pretty popular girl someone would have taken notice. Maybe if I was more likable someone would have stood up for me and noticed that I wasn't ok. I had not been ok for a really long time, and instead of being wrapped in love and understanding and kindness I was made into a person that just wanted attention. There is not one word that came from my mouth that was a lie, not one and yet no one believed me and I struggle to understand why.
I reached out so many times wanting care and compassion and was met with exactly the opposite. I kept reaching out until reaching out caused more pain then keeping it all inside. I am to blame, I was the slut, I was the all to needy unpopular girl who would want to do this to me. I didn't show enough emotion, I didn't react the way that they thought I should. In my head if I could be raped over and over and over again and people still say those things to me, then I obviously meant nothing at all. Obviously there was some great flaw in me that made me a target and made others reject even the thought that someone could be so evil. I guess if you are nothing to begin with; then they don't care about the evil done to you. Because of others evil words there are things that have stuck to my very inner most being and I believe them. I can finally hear others rebuke those things but I can't yet let them seep in and loosen the grip of those words on my inner most soft spot. A group of people who refused to see a girl that wasn't so strong, wasn't so happy and was desperately hurting. For them to acknowledge how hurt that she was they would have had to step out of their comfort zone and do something about it, they were cowards and I was left.
Here are things that I still believe with all that I am and I am fighting oh to hard to overcome
I am grateful for others pictures and words when I can't find anything to fit the emotions and feelings inside. I am grateful to have pictures that I can hold close and say yes this is what it feels like. I am a broken mess and I feel like these things will never go away. I feel as though I will be broken and worth less in this life of mine. I want to be so much and the pictures I hold in my head keep me from so many good things. These words, these pictures are my heart. I am thankful for each and every one of them. They are pieces of me, that if even for a second I see a picture and I feel less alone if only for a single second that is something amazing.
I am reaching, and I am terrified. You have to understand where I am and why I am so very scared. There are days that I wished they had killed me. I do not want to die, but where I live is just that hard. There is a sadness that I don't even have words for, its the deepest darkest kind of sadness that I believe there ever has been. I live in a place that is dark , terrifying and ever so violent. But this is also what I know. There is a part of m that is comfortable here, because I am at fault and no one can hurt me because its all already been done. There is no peace there is no safety. I spend my time trying to survive trying to out think the ones that hurt me. I spend my time trying to find the reasons why and how I could have changed the things that happened to me. My body aches all the time. I feel what they did to me in my bones and I have to fight to make even the smallest movement. Sometimes I can still feel their hands because for me it wasn't 33 years ago it was yesterday. I am ashamed and embarrassed that I spend so much time trying to make sense out of what was done. I am ashamed when I want to talk about it just so I don't have to carry it anymore. I spend my time replaying what has happened thinking about all the things that I could have done different. All the things I should have done differently so that someone believed me and cared for me. You have to believe that I have wanted out of this hell for so very long, but I feel like a burden to everyone. I feel like the things that have happened to me are things that I must carry and figure out on my own. I feel like the things that have happened have made me unclean and something so disgusting. I feel the worst kind of disfigurement, something less than human. That is where I live in this deep dark alone.
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