Through My Lens

 

There was once a time when I called them "trauma goggles." I see, feel, and experience everything in this life through the things that have happened to me. Today, I think the phrase "through my lens" would be more appropriate. I have lived, I have lived lifetimes, and am on my way to finding better, to believing that I deserve more, and that I am willing to do anything to get the things that make my heart happy. I was talking yesterday, and the picture that came to my mind when my mother died was of her at the bottom of the ocean, and I was tethered to a chain that she was holding. She was the holder of that chain, letting me go only so far, while I was drowning right in front of her. She didn't want me to succeed in being better than her or achieve more. And then the following picture in my mind is what happened when she passed away. I feel like that chain, made of lies, deceit, and pretending, wasn't able to hold me anymore. A specific weight was released, and I was able to come up for air.  In that exact moment, there was relief like nothing I had ever known. The things that I have been able to do since her passing are astonishing, and with her alive, secrets would be kept, and I would still be underwater. I would still be drowning today if she were alive, and I am grateful that isn't the case. 

She even wrote a letter that I am not sure I was ever supposed to see, and she said that I chose to live in a haunted house. Her words cut like a knife. I wanted to scream; she was the one who wanted us to live in a haunted house and pretend everything was fine. When I was unwilling and unable to keep pretending, I was made into a troublemaker.  I was the one who stood up and said This isn't ok. Somewhere, I wanted things to be so different.  As I began to find my voice, to become something different than that drowning girl, I was the one who became the problem. 

So much growing up in the house that I did was so cruel and indescribable.  My father was always the monster, but my mother also played a massive role in that. How I see things in the world today is different, sometimes terrifying, and often misunderstood. I will always see and experience things differently because it's in my bones; I don't know how to see them any other way. So much of trauma work often focuses on what was before the trauma. For me, there is no before; it was all I ever knew. I never knew family, or comfort, or safety, or any of those things that come to mind when someone uses the word family. That will forever and always have an impact on each and every experience in my life. Sometimes I still try to run from that realization, but I am closer to accepting that no amount of hope could have made the environment I grew up in any different or any kinder. 

Being around different families and watching how they interact and talk to each other is sometimes overwhelming. The realization is screaming at you about all the things that you don't have today, and all the things you never really had to begin with. That makes a person realize just how crazy-making those things were, and it helps you understand how you see the world. With that comes a sadness: you can be accepted by others, but many interactions make you realize that you are included, not a permanent part. That's the part that stings, that no matter how badly you want to be a part of a family, you have what you have or don't have.  Vincent, Mariska, and I are lucky, our little growing family.  And now that Amelia has joined us, she brings a different kind of hope, a different joy, and understanding of just how important little things are in life. There is a sweetness knowing that she has the things that I never had, and will have even more things than Vincent ever had.  

There is a lot of grief and loss that comes from being brought up in my family of origin. There are always moments, seconds that cut like a knife. Some things will always be tender, but I am enjoying learning, growing, and becoming the person I have always wanted to be, and not letting a single person get in the way.  Still lots of hurt, lots of wounds, but they are no longer actively bleeding, but tender, and I hope in time, even that tenderness will be something that I can smile at and know just how far I have come. 

I heart your heart

I Wish Me Rest

 

Hard to believe it's been almost 4 years. It feels like yesterday and lifetimes ago all at the same time. I was talking to Mariska, and I said that I can't even imagine what life would be like today. And she said she probably wouldn't even live with us anymore, and that there wouldn't likely be a relationship. Words that hit hard, that stick and ring so true. Words that should not fit for a time after losing your mother. I still do not miss her. I have waited 4 years, and I just don't think it will be.  I'm not sure what I feel, but she has been on my mind a lot. When Mariska and I went out Christmas shopping, I saw things I thought I would totally have gotten her for Christmas. I honestly don't want her to be a thought anymore, it just hurts. Even when Vincent saw my brother, there was a moment when, if Vincent hadn't said anything, he would have kept walking. There is still a pull on my heart; I am still more relieved than any other feeling. 

The day passed with no real feelings. I even realized that it was the 3rd of December and not the 4th, crazy how time changes and gives a different meaning. It is crazy that with the passage of these four years, instead of finding fond memories and cherished moments, I have found exactly the opposite.  I have found letters and pieces of paper that have shown what she truly thought of me. It's more than hard to comprehend sometimes, because a mom is supposed to love you through and through. For me, I wanted her to love me, and she wasn't in a place to do that; there will always be a sting with that.  

I am in a place where certain doors are closing, and I am truly ok with that. As much as I would like to forget, she will always be my mom. That hurt, and the sadness will be forever.  That door is closing, I am moving on and doing things that I have always wanted to, things that I have only imagined are truly becoming a reality. I am becoming the mom that I always needed.  I am becoming the woman that she was never able to see, cherish, and appreciate. It's often a sad place to be when you are alone in the world, but my family is growing, things are changing, and I am finding my way. Lots of next steps ahead. New semesters, new chapters, and lots of decisions to be made.  

I am learning and growing all the time, and looking forward to new experiences, many new memories, and creating a life that is patient, kind, and always full of heart. The things that I am passionate about, there is nothing that anyone can do to change that.

You have come a long way, Callahan, and there Is so much ahead of you that isn't even in your wildest dreams yet. 

I heart your heart.