Bandaid on a bullethole

 I heard this in a song, and I stopped my car to write it down. I haven't been able to get it out of my head.  I feel like I am at a  point in my therapy where I want to put a band aid on something because it is that big and because I want to move forward more than anything. This is serious, and there is no band aid in the world that could stop the pain. There is nothing in the world that could make these next steps any easier. You cannot put a band aid on a bullet hole and expect healing will take place.  So, I am finding myself in new territory wanting so much to do the work and wanting nothing more than to a band aid on it so I can make it look different, make it look healed and keep moving forward.  That is not how I do things, but I am finding this piece to be that big and that difficult to work on.  The amount of absolute shame is bigger than even I want to admit, and I am not sure what to do with that.  I want to be healed and be a healer for others.  But I am learning that those two things can happen at the same time.  Each time I write, I speak out there is healing for me. 

I am finding that grad school is bringing up feelings that I didn't realize that I had.  I came home from school today, I worked on my assignment got it all turned in and the tears started flowing.  I want so much to do a great job, to have all the right answers.  I am terrified that somehow, they are going to realize oh this crazy Callahan do you know the things that she thinks and feels? She is a terrible candidate to be a therapist.  That fear is bigger than I would ever want to admit. The fear of failing, of not helping others weighs heavy on me. I can say that grad school and healing is a challenge.  I know that I have come a long way, but I want to be further.  The pieces that I am working on healing right now are terrifying and it feels almost impossible because I have done everything that I know how. There is a part of me that would love to give that traumatized 13-year-old part of me a Band-Aid and tell her that everything is fine.  The truth is I can't leave her back there in the past, where life is so dark, so cruel and so violent.  I am fighting to bring her with me in the present. I want her to be free to be a kid to rest and take a breath and just be. She is a tough one that part of me that survived the most unimaginable. She has many bullet holes and I have to do things just the right way for her to feel safe heard, believed and cared for.  I feel like she needs so much more than the average person.  If a normal person needs 10 ounces of reassurance, she needs thousands.  Sometimes I wonder if there is enough reassurance in the world for her.  I am not giving up and more than willing to do what is necessary, but I NEED her to heal more than I have needed anything in my life.  

I have done all the things trying to make her feel safe and understood.  She is believed and cared for and still so afraid.  I have given her all that I know and still she feels so far away.  I am covered in bruises the last few weeks, it's like she is still fighting them all, and I am not sure how to make her believe that those things aren't happening anymore.  I feel like that part of me is so close yet so far away.  I want to feel like she is a part of me not something other than.  

I am at a point where I see so much more for myself, and I want her to be a part of that.  We are doing the things we only dreamed of, and I want her to feel the good things and I don't think she even knows how.  So this time I keep trying to want more for her. I am standing in this place reaching for her and yet wanting to run ahead and catch up on all the things that I have missed out on.  

I heart your heart 

Grateful for other words on this journey, when I can't find my own.

 

Counselor in Training

 

I am really kind of excited even with the tears rolling down my face.  I just watched my first video that I taped and for the first time ever there was a thought that I am going to be a great counselor.  I felt at home, there were no awkward pauses, and I was totally present and there for my client.  I knew this is what i wanted to do, but watching back that first practice video there were moments I found myself feeling so alive.  I was scared watching it back thinking that I was going to see so much negative, and there were a few things I will totally do different next time.  At the same time there were a lot of things that I did right.  I really like that counselor in training.  I am so looking forward to the feedback that I get and things that I can do better next time. We will see when I get my grade back, but there is an excitement that feels so amazing.  I know that I want to do this with my whole heart.  I know that there will be people that I can help.  I always worry that my own past will be a barrier, and not once did I think about myself or my own history it was about my client and what they needed in our time together.  So many things were reassured for me, and I just love that.  I still want to work with Trauma and all that that entails, but even those not so big things I can still make a connection and make a difference for others. Oh, I am in the right place.  I have so much to learn, and I am just so excited. 

I heart your heart. 

Perfection

 I am finding that grad school is doing something to me that I never expected.  I want to be perfect; I want to make all the right decisions and get all the perfect grades.  My entire life perfection was never a thing for me, yet lately that need is bigger than I ever imagined. it's so big that it takes my breath away often. I worry all the time about not being enough, not doing the right thing and not being smart enough to become a counselor.  I am terrified that one day they are going to call me into their office and say well Callahan thank you for the effort, but you just aren't right for this program.  I don't even have words for how real that fear is for me.  I worry that somehow my past is this huge blaring sign that will somehow make me less than.  I am not sure where that comes from because I have done my own work, I am still doing my own work but there is this fear that I just am not enough. I am really going to have to work on this because, I don't let myself breathe or take a break.  I have never loved school more.  I talk about it and it feels like I could go on forever.  I feel like I want it more than anyone else, it means more and it's something that I feel I have fought for my entire life.  I have wanted this for so long, and that it's finally happening is something more than amazing. But the doubt the need to be perfect, the need to answer all the right questions is weighing heavy on me.  I am hoping that when things settle at work, I will be able o breath, but I will something else jus fill it's place.  I am thinking about putting a proposal in for the Trauma support services conference.  And I think am I good enough, am I going to say all the right things, am I  strong enough brave enough to do it on my own.  I don't know.  The need to speak and do things different is so strong.  It's up there with wanting to finish school.  There have been a few bouts of panic, my chest hurts, and my hands sweat.  I was driving in the car the other day and realized I wasn't even relaxed, I was almost sitting up straight, and had to remind myself to sit back in the seat.  That is the state that I am in.  I can tell you that a person can't stay here for long with out something happening.  I just have to keep talking about, in every area lately there is this drive, that is exciting, so many good things but I have to find some kind of balance.   Even in counseling right now I am frustrated with myself that I can not do the things that I know are going to help me.  That 13 year old part of me, is jus more than hard and so complicated. It's almost to the point, where I just need to focus somewhere else because, maybe that piece is just too hard right now.  So many good things and yet, there is an uneasy that I need to be perfect. 

I heart your heart

The things that people don't notice

I think that there are a lot of things in this world that people don't notice.  When you grow up having to notice every single time thing from moods, to changes in attitude, to others body language.  When you grow up in a trauma house you learn to notice everything. You notice when people act different. You notice whether you are ignored.  You notice those subtle little things that so many other people just don't see. You notice the little differences in how people treat you, and ways that they pretend to care. I notice those things with my students and in others.  I am noticing those things all the time.  I notice those things everywhere with everyone that I meet. 

There was a student who was struggling.  She was very teary; something wasn't right or ok. She would stop then start crying again, the kind of tears that are deep and so very sad.  She tried to wipe them away pretend that she was fine.  She made excuses that she was just tired, but I knew better.  I asked someone to check on her and the response that I got just wasn't ok. They said, yea she is fine she loves school she loves her class she is fine.  I found myself incredibly angry at the email because if you spent any time with her you would know that none of those things were true.  She isn't at all happy, she has no friends, and she is struggling in ways that anyone who knows her can see loud and clear.  

Even today when I went in her class, she bit my head off, and I told her it was ok, that I was there to help her.  She didn't have to yell or be unkind.  Her attitude changed, she was softer and even a smiled a little.  She started to cry again, I stopped and sked if she was ok, and she said she was.  All of her pushing me away in the world will never make me stop noticing.  So I am there, I hold space for her and we work on her math.  Sweet girl, I see you and nothing you can do will make me not want to be here.

I think I am writing so that in some small way I wish she knew that I see her.  Maybe she can't tell me what wrong right is now, but I see her, and I will never stop noticing. Someday I hope that she can say I remember that one teacher who kept checking. Those are the things that matter. Those are the things that make a difference. 

That is something that I so needed, and never showed up for.  So I will show up and keep showing up. 

I heart your heart. 

I have to work twice as hard all the time

 I have to work twice as hard all the time, and I am so tired. Things that come easy to people are things that I have to fight for.  I am not saying that others don't have a hard time.  That is not at all what I am talking about. In life we all have areas where we struggle; what I am saying is that for me, in my every day the things that people take for granted, are things that it takes me twice the time to figure out in my head.  I was writing in my class and said that I had trauma brain.  I feel like the things that I see are from such a different lens and have a different route to take then so many others. Some things that seem so easy, have to go through so much in my brain that makes it something extremely difficult.  As a special education you would think that people around me, other educators would understand that, and the fact is that many of them don't.  Maybe it's not even trauma brain maybe it's just simply how my brain works either way it is the case and I wish that people were able to understand that.  

I think that growing up I always had to be so ready and prepared for whatever might happen.  My mind runs on survival not the moment that is front of me.  That is so hard for people for understand.  When people want things on the spot, my brain goes into panic mode, trying to figure out all the possibilities, and things that could happen. I am still trying to find a way to make this make sense for me and others.  I really think that trauma brain is a thing and I wish that there was some kind of research on that type of thing.  And I hate saying that I don't want it to be taken as an excuse that just isn't it at all.  My brain works different because of the life that I have had, and I want there to be a name and an understanding for that. Even at works, things that take people a certain amount of time, it takes me more.  So many people can't understand why I can't get it done like they do.  I am not sure how to explain to someone that the simple fact is, the things that my brain has been through and has to process just makes the things I do a little different.  I always get things done, I still learn and for the sake of the word am smart, but I have to go about things differently.  Someday I would like that to be appreciated, and not looked down on. Someday. Someday. 

I heart your heart. 

Not a clue

 

There is this intense desire to write, and I don't know where to start.  There are so many things that are running around my mind. I am working so hard to figure everything out and there are still days that I want to crawl in a hole.  My heart is so tired.  I want a break; I want to understand how I can still be so affected after all this time. There is a sadness that I am not sure I know how to explain.  It's so deep that I can't even tell you where the tears are coming from. Things are coming into place for me and yet that sadness. School is my happy place; I got my first assignment of the semester back and a 100.  So many amazing things and that sadness. I am trying so hard to heal that 13-year-old part of myself and it's so difficult.  I want to wrap my arms around her tell her that all that happened was never her fault that she has nothing to be ashamed of, and at the same time that shame is so intense.  I think that there is a part of me that thinks it's easier her holding it.  I am more than ashamed of the things that happened, and I am not sure how to lose that.   That thirteen-year-old girl is still scared of the world.  She has a sadness that I don't know how to give words too yet. I am working so hard, and yet she feels so far away.  I know that she is the hardest heal, she holds things that even I don't want to think about.  There are nightmares and all I feel is tense.  I wake up in the tiniest ball, cold and just want to scream at the world.  Sometimes I am glad that I don't remember the nightmares and then there are other times that if I did then I could face them and move on. My body aches, and there is no reason. There are things that stop me dead in my tracks that come from all that she experienced.  And honestly, I will be glad when I don't call her, her makes her feel so far away, and yet I know she is a part a me.  I want to be grateful for that part of me and finally let her rest.  She has taken care of too much that was never hers in the first place.  I am more than grateful for her, but there is a part of me that needs to let go, let her rest and let me figure out the things that have to be figured out.  I know it's a process, and I understand why she took on so much, but I am stronger than I have ever been.  I am taking so many steps forward and I just need her to be a part of me and not something far away and untouchable.  I am not sure what the next steps are, or what I need to do.  But anything, I am willing to do anything to make that scared ashamed 13-year-old a part of the woman that I am today. 

I heart your heart. 

Super Bowl Makes me sad

 Yes.  I have said it the Super bowl makes me sad. And I have to say I woke up pretty miserable.  I started laundry doing all the chores that need to get done for Sunday.  I did all my homework, got everything turned in and that makes my heart more than happy. My classes this semester is amazing, I have a professor that makes me feel seen and heard.   Today is a day that is meant to be celebrated and be with people that you can be yourself with.  Most people don't even watch the game it's about the commercials and the half time show and being with people.  For me my experiences with the Superbowl have been everything opposite of what they are supposed to be. And I can tell you it is not for a lack of trying; I have tried to fit in on this day.  I have tried to even enjoy it but it just isn't there.  

One super bowl party I was invited to, was fine.  I was glad to be included and be a part of something fun. They said that they were going to order pizza, and everyone would have fun.  So we went.  I had no money to my name.  So, I fed the kids before we got there.  Pizza wasn't an option for us.  It was fine, these people weren't my people and I feel oddly out of place the entire time.  Then after the half time show he walked up to me and says that would be 20 for the pizza.  I am pretty sure, I teared up I knew I didn't have that money and I knew that we didn't eat any pizza for that very reason.  But he stood there waiting and I gave him the last 20 out of my purse for pizza that we never ate.  He knew the situation that I was in, trying to finish school, catching a few sub jobs between classes.  My heart was broken and that $20 was gas that I needed for the week. I was crushed, I didn't understand.  Just because I was there, didn't mean that we ate his pizza.  After that the thoughts were running through my head how I was going to make up those 20 dollars.  I tried to blow it off like no big deal, but it was a very big deal.  Hard to enjoy a game when you're worried about the 20 that you needed for the upcoming week.  I left heartbroken.  These people could buy and sell me, and my 20 dollars meant nothing to them and everything to me.  So, we left, I think that my kids had fun, they had no idea, but,  I was pretty heartbroken and surely defeated. 

Another Superbowl, someone knew that I wasn't a big crowd person. She knew I was quieter, she laughed open mouth almost cackling in my face telling me I better find something to do because people were coming over for a super bowl party.  There wasn't an ounce of caring or compassion.  She could have very nicely told me that she was having people over, and that would have been fine.  Instead, she chooses to humiliate and laugh at me.  That just isn't ok.  I felt like I was less than.  I felt like a burden, and I quietly walked away and went to my room.  

There was another super bowl that I basically begged someone what they were doing because I didn't want to be alone.  It was fine but once again I didn't fit in.  They were all church people,
and we all know I didn't fit in with them.  I really wanted to.  I remember that the host was pregnant, and I brought her flowers.  I spent much of the time just being an observer.  I knew I didn't fit in and that they were just being nice.  I appreciated everything, but these weren't my people.  

So all in all this day is hard.  I have a giant headache and just want to go to sleep.  I am freezing from the inside out, I just want people, my kind of people and there aren't any to be had.  So I am going to go get warm, and find something on Netflix, that makes my heart happy.  

If you experience a happy fun filled super bowl, be grateful.  If you don't I get it I totally get it . Either way I hope that you have the day that you have and that you are gentle with yourself. 

And an Update : 

The whole pizza thing had me thinking so I decided that I was going to order Pizza for when Mariska got off work tonight.  Well yea that didn't work.  I get a call from the delivery driver, and she tried to deliver the pizza that I ordered for 8:30 PM.  She was rude and nasty said oh well, there is nothing that I can do about it.  I am going to have to call the store.  And the tears started really.  I just wanted to order pizza for this stupid Superbowl Sunday.  I call them and they basically said oh well.  SO I am out $50 no pizza and the tears just won't stop.  All these tears can't be for the pizza that isn't coming.  It's just a culmination of the things that go wrong.  I don't want things handed to me, but I wish more than anything that something simple like ordering pizza on an awful day that makes me feel terrible could just be easy.  So needless to say once I get Mariska at work,  I am bringing the laundry upstairs and letting all the tears come.  

I heart your heart 

I am here

 Wow, there are so many thoughts and feelings, my face hurts because I can't stop smiling.  I am here.  I am here, I am in my second semester grad school, I think that every semester there is going to be tears because there is this realization that wow, this is really happening for me. I have worked so very hard and here I am. I need to take the time to just sit and realize just how far that I have come.  

I am here,  

And for so many reasons I should not be but I am.  

I am here and I am exactly where I am supposed to be. I have already cried because I want this just that much.  I have been failed so many times and I want to be that person to help others, to be there for them in ways that so many others should have been there for me but were not. I want to be there for others, I want others like me to know that they are not alone and that there are people that are kind, that want to understand and that will not run away. 

It's a lot of work and so much reading. My professor is intense, but I also feel like she wants the best for us.  She wants us to be one of the good ones.  She wants us to make a difference. 

I have to figure out the crying thing, I think I have just been through so much and have wanted this for such a long time. Now that it's happening there is this realization that wow, I am here and dreams are coming true.  It's going to be a process and I have to take things a day at a time.  I was talking to a classmate who is also a teacher, about letting things go.  Right now in my job there are things that I can't control. I need to be ok with that.  I need to go to work do my job then come home and focus on the things that I love the most.  I am here I have made it and I am so on my way.