The exhaustion of remembering

Here I am scared, confused and exhausted.  I am in a place that I have never been before, and it takes all of me to do the smallest tasks.  I am more than frustrated at this place because so many good things are happening around me.  My life is moving towards all good things.  But there are these boxes in my life that hide all the terrible awful and it has come to point where, I can no longer keep the lid on. I don't want to keep the lid on, I am tired of all the unspeakable things being unspeakable and tearing at my soul.  I should never have had to hide to them in the first place, but life had other plans for me. The things that are in my memories are things I have never forgotten but I am seeing them a different way.  

It's in the little details, the things that I had to focus on to just pretend that anything other than what was happening was happening.  I would have given anything for Don to stop that morning in the shower. It seems that time is under a microscope right now.  I want to find meaning and understanding.  Yet I know there is no way to make sense out of something that is senseless.  But still there is this need to try.  Maybe I did something to make him think it was ok to come back.  Maybe if I fought harder the first time he would never have tried again.  Maybe, Maybe, Maybe runs through my head trillions of times. So many thoughts and yet still it happened and there isn't a thing that I can ever do about it. The buttons on that ugly orange chair the window and the sun shining though the blinds on the bed. Its the little things that are so heavy.

I was in my own world that morning, singing in the shower, I wasn't afraid, I just knew that it was going to be a long day.  My parents had already left, before the sunrise. I don't remember the song that was on my boom box, I know that it was a cassette tape.  I know that it was loud, music was a freedom and an escape.  I am sure I was singing and dancing when it got shut off, I am sure that I knew every single word to the song and kept singing.  I can remember grabbing the towel and wiping my eyes before realizing that don was there.  There was this immediate adrenalin, I could feel my heart pounding in my chest.  It was a shock, and my first thought was escape.  But it was a small bathroom, and there was nowhere to go, he was between me and the door. It was a few short seconds, but they felt like lifetimes. I tried to reason telling him that I would be out in a minute, of course those were not his intentions.  I remember the look on his face, as he started to undress and my heart began beating faster, I wanted more than anything to crawl through that shower wall and get away from him.  There was a moment, a piece of me knew what he was going to do, and the tears started, I tried to wipe the tears away, be brave and strong.  I was frozen.  He was so calm and collected, I tried to push through him and get out, he made comments that we were going to have fun, he made rude disgusting comments.  In that moment I started to cry and kept telling him no.  I was in a panic begging and pleading. I told him to just let me out and we could talk. He shoved me against the cold wall, kissing me hard his hands everywhere, in my head I kept saying no no no no no over and over but I am not sure if any sound came out.  He put my hands over my head and pushed my face into tile. He turned the water so hot; I can remember it burning my skin, but it was better focusing on the hot water than what he was doing to me. I begged, asked him so nicely just to stop.  Of course, he didn't hear me. he was hurting me, I was nothing. So many things went through my head about all the things I should or could have done.  Today as I remember those thoughts I think about where my parents were.  How did he know I was home alone. How did he get in.  He was in no hurry, not afraid of anyone finding him out?  There is a part of me that feels in my bones that my father was a part of this.  He knew that I was getting tired of being hurt by him and he needed an out in case I ever said anything about him.  How fucking sick. There was no fear in Don he had plans for the day.  He hurt me for what felt like forever, more than once, when he was done, he pulled my hair, throwing me to the ground.  I just curled up thinking, just keep it together he will get dressed and leave and you will be ok.  I can remember wanting to just go and lock the front door.  That was my goal for when he left. I just laid there on the cold shower floor shivering.  I was ever so quiet, waiting for the sounds to know that he was gone.  I can still see that stitched round sign, He leadeth me.  I hated it but I found myself saying it over and over, trying to get my mind somewhere else.  I can remember kind of being gone for a time, maybe in shock at what had happened.  I grabbed the towel and tried to stand. It took more than one try, it was like he had taken all my strength.  I can remember sitting on the rug, and I hit my leg, over and over I wanted to feel anything other than the things I was feeling.  Out of the corner of my eye, I caught him sitting in that burnt orange chair with one missing button.  And I just sat there with my back against the wall.  I was terrified and could not understand why he hadn't left.  I went through so many scenarios in my head and none of them included him staying. When he knew that I saw him still there, he laughed and asked if I was hiding.  He brought me to the bed, I had a death grip on that towel, it was my only safety.  I couldn't understand why he was still here.  I could feel my heart beating in my chest,  I just wanted him to leave me alone so I could clean up and move on .  I wanted him to leave so I could pretend that everything was ok. Nothing was ok, and I had no idea just how bad that this day would get. 

Today I look back and there are so many questions for all of those people that should have done something.  Back then as a scared and lonely 13-year-old I was searching my brain for all the things I had done to cause this.  I was thinking about all the things I had done to make them hurt me.  All the things I didn't do all the things I did do.  What was happening was totally my fault, and I was going to figure it out so that it would never happen again. I could not understand why he hadn't left.  I couldn't understand his carefree attitude.  I couldn't understand a single thing. 

I was terrified, by his laugh.  As he walked over to me my mind was anywhere but in that bathroom.  He threw me on my parents waterbed, he hurt me again and again.  I can't even tell you how many ways or how many times.  This entire time I was just trying to understand what i had done to cause this.  Finally, he took a break.  Leaving me face down on the bed.  I was in and out of life.  I was present and far away sometimes at the same time.  I just wanted him to be done, I wanted him to leave.  I can remember hearing him laugh, saying things about me to the person on the phone.  I still can't piece the entire conversation together, but he thought it was funny.  I felt like a joke, and I wanted to just disintegrate into millions of pieces never coming back together. I didn't want to survive, and that wasn't the worst of that day. I focused on the sun, the warmth. I focused on anything that was good and didn't hurt me.  Once again back to reality, I heard people coming in the house. It was what you would hear if friends were coming over, talking and laughing.  That would have been great, I really didn't have those kinds of friends.  I had no idea what was happening or why they were there.  I was there naked on the bed my hands tied and so ashamed.  They all walked in like nothing was different or out of the ordinary.  I was confused, I had no idea that what happened could happen, that it was even possible.  Don started again, others joined in and I 13 year old little Callahan left the room.  I was there sometimes, but other times I wasn't.  I can remember seeing Andy and I felt like a human.  He was different and didn't join the others. The chanting was one of the worst parts, because they cheered each other on, calling their names and telling each other to do things. It went on for so long.  The entire time they were talking to each other and laughing. Clapping and excited. I wanted to die. The names that they called me, how they talked to me I was a piece of property. Somehow seeing Andy, someone seeing me made a difference. I at least felt more human, and that kept me alive.   

I always hated that waterbed.  I guess if my father could do what he did on that bed why not all the others.  My thoughts were of making a mess of the bed and having to clean up.  There are pictures so clear, but I don't have words. Not once was it ever why are they doing this to me.  It was always what did I do to cause this.  There was never a thought that what they were doing was wrong.  

It's exhausting these things that have happened and how they affect so much. These pictures, this remembering seems to be free flowing and running me over at the moment.  Unbelievable awfulness that was my entire existence. So much that doesn't even have words.  I will be glad when this doesn't hurt and I can be glad that I survived this hell. 

I heart your heart. 

I am at a loss

 I am completely and totally at a loss. I make sure that I watch my tone.  I am always careful in the things that I say and how I say them.  I more often than not walk on eggshells, because honestly you just never know the mood that he might be in.  He lives in his own world, and treats everyone, Well I take that back.  He treats me like I am something of a bother, like I have no idea what is going on.  Often, I am ignored; treated as less than.  So many things like how I was treated by my mother and it's more than difficult. I try so hard; I love him so much and nothing matters. I ask him a question, no answer.  I ask him again then he gets loud.  He never knew my father, how in the world can he do some of the same things.   He mumbles all the time, and I just don't understand. 

There are times I see a peek at the Vincent that I used to know.  I get so excited and just want to hold on to those times. They are few and far between, and it breaks this momma's heart.  He isn't happy.  Only every once in a while do I see his smile, and I miss it more than anything. He is one way with friends and another at home. He drives random places; is secretive all the time and I worry.  I worry all the time. 

I was sick Saturday. Like 102.5 fever sick.  I was out for the count.  I get a call from Vincent.  His battery has died, and he needs me to come pick him up.  Of course, so I go upstairs get dressed.  And leave to go get him.  I get there he is all huffing and puffing.  He shakes his head at me like I am an idiot.  He gets in the car and starts yelling at me, that he has tried to call three times.  I stopped and told him to stop yelling at me, that I was sick, and I couldn't answer the phone while I was driving.  Still attitude, like I was the one who had done something wrong. I stayed as calm as I could, inside I was boiling.  I asked him what he needed to do, I don't care take me, home go to wal-mart.  Just drop me off at home. I told him that I just needed to know what I could do to help.  The entire 15-minute drive were the head shakes and huffing and puffing under his breathe.  I don't drive right, didn't get there fast enough and couldn't read his mind what I needed to do, to help him. I just don't understand.  Later there was an in passing thank you, not a thing about me being sick, not a sorry for yelling at me.  

This is exhausting.  I am doing everything that I know, and nothing is enough.  He doesn't help me, he could see me struggling and literally just watch.  I DO NOT understand. It breaks my heart. I even just asked him, if he could pick up Mariska at 8 from work.  His answer NO, I have work.  I am continually heartbroken, and he doesn't even care. What does a mom do?  I feel like I have to apologize for being a single mom, I have to apologize for being the person that I am.  He says he loves, me.  Words and actions don't match, and I am at a loss.

Joy in unimaginable grief

 

That is how this day hits. Somedays it is big, some days it is just another day.  This was a day 20 years ago that changed the entire direction of my life. I have to find a way to see the joy, to experience the joy in everything that is my children.  I also have to acknowledge the intense grief that I feel, that I wanted nothing more than to feel normal that day. I wanted nothing more than to laugh and have a day out just being myself. I never know how to experience this day, because its something that others struggle to understand.  It is a day that is mine to understand and try to find meaning and understanding in.  It is hard to understand when your lowest of the low and highest of the high are a mere second apart.  Sometimes separating the two things that happened that day is an impossible task and I wish I could live in that place 20 years ago, when I was just a slut.  I don't want to live there but it was an easier option. So today there was some sad, but more busy trying to figure out my place in a new job, new admin, new ways of doing things.  Today I ordered my first books for grad school.  I am going to call that a success.  I will write some tonight but for now, the tears, just a few that have seemed to escape.  My children I heart your heart and EVERYTHING that I I do for you.  

I love you I love you I love you. Momma. 

 I love my children more than life

I hate what he did to me

if he didn't hurt me then I wouldn't have my children 

and honestly if he didn't hurt me I would probably never have children 

I can not imagine ever wanting such a thing

I could never imagine wanting what happened , 

I can not imagine my life with out my children 

And there is the struggle 

that something that was so hurtful gave me the best things that ever happened to me. 

There is no understanding that.  There is no rhyme or reason. 

From the second that I found out I was pregnant they were all that mattered

 I never took better care of myself and there was not a thing that mattered more in the world

I was their mom and I was going to give them all I never had. 

I was so excited at each appointment, hearing your little hearts.  

Feeling you move was always so exciting.  I never stopped smiling. 

What happened to me was just a side note, nothing that mattered really 

this was just what happens to me, I thought and believed that for years. 

Today I struggle with that thought, because it doesn't fit, but I don't know what does.  

There is still those thoughts if it was so bad how can something so amazing happen.  

I don't have an answer,  and I this year this day I don't want to think about it. 

I heart your heart 

Worst one in some time

 I am writing, but I am not sure the words are going to come out. Even if they do I am not sure that they would make any sense. I remember all the time that is nothing new.  It's all there clear as crstal, but that is the normal.  Those are just the things that happen in the background as I do all the daily living and things that I must do.  But Last Tuesday, that was something totally different.  Because Don was right there in front of me and I wrote in my art journal it was like the moment you realize that you were going to be assaulted, you are going to be hurt and there isn't a damn thing that you can do about it.  Well Tuesday was one of those moments and, it stopped me in my tracks.  If I ran, I am sure that I could have run Marathon's and there would have been no stopping me.  His face was literally inches from my mine in the here and now and I felt like I was in absolute danger, in that moment.  In that split second there were so many things happening inside of me.  It is like all of these thoughts that are happening all at once and at the same time the world in frozen in this one moment of time.  I was just sitting there in the meeting, and out of nowhere Don's face was inches from mine, and he was going to hurt me, he was right there between my legs and for a few seconds I was there. Imminent danger it was going to happen no matter what and I froze.  The absolute terror, I was frozen, there was nothing that I could do to stop him.  I had all the feelings; I saw his face it was all more than real and I was angry.  I was angry at myself for it even happening.  I was angry that after all this time, I can still see his face.  After all this time a split second brought back all the feelings of lifetimes ago. 

I hate that there are so many good things going for me right now.  I am doing all the right things . I am healing, going back to school I have a job that is so much less stressful than last year.  And out of nowhere I am reduced to a young girl who is afraid of her own shadow and unable to move in a moment when its just mere memories at this point.  Yet, somewhere in my mind the danger is just as real as it ever was and that is beyond angering. It was so LONG ago I should not be having these reactions all this time later.  And then there are the feelings that I should be doing something more, something different.  After all the work that I have done,  this one the with the 5 of them is daunting and heavy and has a grip like no other on my heart and mind.  There are so many little pieces, and so much that still doesn't even make sense.  How does a girl of thirteen survive that.  I couldn't sit, I couldn't stand, everything hurt.  There was not an inch of my body that they didn't violate, touch and try to destroy.  I know the intense feelings that I had Tuesday after the memory was gone, but yet still there, because that is something that takes a few days to recover from.  Yet when it all happened, I just cleaned up, and after two days went back to school.  I can remember being late for my classes.  because my body hurt so much.  Every inch was bruised and battered.  Sitting in those hard desks, I just tried to be normal, pretend that everything was ok, but nothing was ok, not a single thing and I just had to keep going.  

I do not understand the intensity of the things that happen today.  It was as if someone had transplanted the moment from 1988 all the way forward to 2023, and that is something I struggle to understand.  That is something that I would do anything to escape.  At this point I wish with all that I am, that I didn't member a single thing.  That I didn't have to feel the things that they did.  I wish with everything in me, that I could make it go away.  It hurts, it pains my heart. As awful as it was Tuesday, it was worse as a girl all alone in the world with no one to help her through it.  

If I were to ever give up, this is the piece that would do it.  I have to figure this piece out, I have to just do it because if I don't I will just be stuck here forever.  I think there are little pieces, but this one is huge.  I am just so afraid that I won't be ok. 

Sadness is on Me

Yes, I am so sad. Sadness is on me with the 

weight of a million lifetimes.

Sadness is on me.  Fully and wholly.

Sadness is on me and it is making my heart beat

faster than it should, and I can't catch my breath

and I cannot find the exit

I am so sad, getting out of bed is difficult.

Smiling is difficult.

Let's be honest anything I do right now 

takes an agonizing amount of effort 

because Sadness is on Me.

The guilt that I feel is immense.

Because

Good things are happening! 

I should be grateful and truly happy

But the lifetimes I have lived 

the things I have survived.

are weighing more than heavy.

The happy that is there is being stolen by things

that break and tear at my heart and leave marks on my soul.

This sadness makes me feel small,

I want to curl up trying to keep all the already placed pieces intact.

When there is this kind of sad, the pieces feel like sand, seeping through

my fingers

and there is a deep fear that somehow this sadness that is on me is also a thief. 

stealing all the progress that I have made.

There is no amount of people for me to save.

No amount of making others happy

no amount of everything being place

can ever take this weight off.

I keep working,

Keep healing!

that is what I know how to do best,  I just keep going.

Just keep going Just keep going just keep going Just keep going.

When do I get to stop? 

I heart your heart

 

The things I say to myself

 Today it was this.  It came up in my memories and I sat curled up in a ball with a blanket, weeping on the couch.  This person could be me; I could be her. I work really hard healing and moving forward.  I struggle with all the things that I was told, all the messages that I got growing up about just how much of a bother and a pest that I was. I was always that other than girl, always that girl that was different that wanted to belong but never did.  The abuse made me different; I saw life through trauma goggles.  The world was so very different, the world was dangerous and unpredictable.  The things that I had to know and understand, way before my time.  The things that I had to hide, . Things I had to cover were things that are devastating for a girl trying to find her way in the world.  I was never enough as a kid, I got in the way and needed way too much. It is amazing that as far as I have come, all the things that I have accomplished, there are terrible things that live in my brain about myself.  I think there are things that I will always fight, no matter how far that I have come. 

I can remember once for my undergrad, my entire crew were all sitting near each other, laughing and talking.  I came up and sat on a bench alone.  My thinking was I don't want to sit too close; I wouldn't want to sit there if someone didn't want me there.  I can remember Casey petting the bench and telling me to come sit.  Those are the kind of things that are so engrained in my brain.  My automatic thought was why would he want ugly me sitting next to him. I literally have to fight this all the time.  Even starting with a new team, it seems to be blaring.  Today I got there first and saved a row for our team. I ended up sitting in the row in front of everyone, not because there were no sets but because I was worried about getting in someone's space.  I was worried about taking up too much space and making someone uncomfortable. Those are the ever-present effects of all the things that have happened to me. 

I keep fighting and am learning to stand in my place and be who I am.  It is oh so hard.  I would think speaking at the conference there would be a confidence but all I see are the things that I could have done so much better. I am working on it; I will get there.  It's amazing that deep down, there is still that feeling of being less than, being a bother, being a burden. Those are just things that are, in my very core and are central beliefs. I am working on changing them.  It is more than hard at 48, because there were never those moments where people told me that I was loved.  I was never told that I was valuable.  I was never worth anything to anyone. I literally didn't have worth growing up, I was expected to be silent, and do as I was told regardless of the consequences, and for so long that is how I lived my life.  For others I learned that I really didn't care what others thought I was going to do the right thing. That was always for others.  My entire life I was going to make sure that others didn't have to experience the things that I had.  To this day, I live by that.  I cannot change what happened to me, I cannot make it any different.  I cannot make this bruised, broken heart of mine pristine and full of life, but I can make sure that I help others keep that shine and get the love and understanding that they deserve. 

I will continue to work on me, trying to believe that I am not the all-encompassing monster that I feel I am.  I will continue to work on me and believe in the good things that I am.  I truly hope that one day, I will believe in the good things about me, and they will overshadow all the doubt.  Hey, I am a work in progress and it's going to take time.  I cry watching the video, because that girl is me.  I cry because I am fighting that part and look forward to each part of me, being free to be who they truly are and helping others do the same.  

You know that saying if you don't love yourself, you can't truly love others.  I don't believe in that. I can tell you that I love fiercely with all that I am.  I love so hard because I know what it's like not to be loved and never want anyone to have to feel that sinking feeling of being unloved.  I do not love myself; I know I will keep trying and not sure I will get there.  That fact does not stop me from loving so hard and fierce that a person will never forget it.  One day, one fine day I hope that I can believe that about myself. And all the love and care that I give to others I will get back and live my own happily ever after. 

I heart your heart 

Summer of Me

 

It is hard to believe that today is my last day of summer break.  For the first time in a very long time, I feel like I had a real break. I taught summer school. My car died and I had to get a car. Mariska and I started watching Grey's Anatomy from the beginning we are to season 6.  It's amazing how many times we remind ourselves, "it's just a TV show".  I read books, 5 to be exact.  Good Morning Monster, was my favorite, and I am still in progress on a few. I presented at the Road to Resiliency conference. It was more than amazing, totally lifechanging and something that I am sure I will be doing more of. I worked really hard making my house mine again. Floors cleaned new bright curtains. I threw away so much clutter and junk, that was in my mother's room and the upstairs living room.  I found more and more hurtful things from my mother, that has left me in disbelief. I already knew she hated me not sure why I am surprised anymore. She truly had no feeling for me, for as far back as I can remember.  There is a sadness in that, she missed out on who I am.  I feel like I have grown and changed this, Summer.  I believe that as hard and stressful as things are; I am moving in the right direction.  Changes are coming, good things are happening, and I am at a place where I am in-between them all.  

In all those great things I am unsettled. My body is achy, and the panic attacks are serious.  I worry about money and having enough to cover all that needs covered. I will be glad when I don't have to worry if there will be enough every month.  I am just blah, just sad, just all the time anxious. I want to curl up in a ball.  I was supposed to go to lunch today with my favorite Stacey and I just couldn't. I was supposed to go to lunch a few weeks ago and yet I couldn't. I am sure that this phase will pass, but I am drowning in it right now.  I start a new campus tomorrow and as exciting as that is, there is a nervousness.  Just starting all over with a new team, wanting to do things right and being afraid that I am not. All the worries being good enough, just having to start over again.  It's so crazy being so excited about grad school and so looking forward to a new career, and yet still in a job that has taken a lot out of me.  

For the first time in forever, I got to write and relax. It was amazing getting to do the things that I wanted that made me happy.  I got to enjoy my time and even take naps with no one looking over my shoulder or telling me about all the things that I should be doing.  It was good and I hope to have even more summers like this.  I am sure next Summer there will be lots, more summer school, more classes and more being me.  What a Summer, let's get this year started so many new things for me. 

I heart your heart.