Trauma Goggles

SO I have realized that I see everything through what I am going to call Trauma Goggles. I think I am realizing a reason for that. When I say everything, I mean ABSOLUTELY everything. From taking a shower in the morning to driving, to every interaction that I have to when I go to bed at night and what I wear to bed to how I raise my children. Things were so bad for sooooo long that I see things very different from you. I see things through hurt, anger, sadness, pain, disbelief, grief, fight, protection, rage. I have joy and I find peace in the little things all the time, but I see those things through my very own trauma goggles. How I generally see the world and life experiences is different. It is just a fact. I feel and see the innocence of the little things and that is something I never want to loose. It makes life more than difficult most of the time but I don’t want to loose it. Sometimes, no most of the time I try more than hard wanting others to understand and see things the way that I do. I realized this week that it’s impossible. It is completely impossible for others to experience life the way that I do, to see things how I see them. I will never forget the place that I came from and how I was affected, and sometimes I want too much for others to completely understand that. There have been times that if I could just let someone see how I view the little things, life would be unbelievably different. I realized when I was talking with Pastor Blake that there is no amount of words that I could speak to get people to see things how I do. I kept saying I prayed at five to die. We would all hold hands and I remember saying : If I should die before I wake, I pray the lord my soul to take…..My prayer in my head night after night was; Please just take me, don’t let me wake up, I can not do this anymore. That is how terrible those things were so do not tell me that I have to focus and not dwell on the past. I understand that my life is hard to understand and comprehend; it is more than intense; so deep and overwhelming. I even wonder at times how in the world I am still the person that I am. I KNOW this; it has been my life and you have no idea how very sorry that I am. I do know that there have been a few people that have understood and that is where my deepest connections come from. A person that can understand and accept my heart the way it is; is truly a treasure. I am grateful for the amazing people that have stayed in my life, and absolutely have an understanding of me. People always tell me that I am more like others than I think. I try to believe that, I would love to believe that but there are times, more times than not that, I am not alike at all. I think that I am finally coming to a place where I have to be ok sharing and having others not understand. I do not want them to understand, to know that pain but I do want them to be outraged and do something about it. I want the things in my life to make them think and to make them do things differently. People don't have to care for me, and be sorry but I do expect people to do something. DO SOMETHING;  realize the difference that they could make in a life. I want people to make sure that things like this don't happen so others like me don't have to see the world as I do. It is a blessing and a curse these goggles.

　

Realizing this I see just how desperate that I am in this life for people to acknowledge what I have been through in my life. I don't like it but its true. I hold on to what happened to me for deal life, if I let go somehow it will be forgotten. And I cannot forget, I cannot stop making a difference. I don’t want people to forget either. I want them to be so upset, and think what they could do and do things different. I don't want people being careful, and walking on eggshells around me if someone has a question I want them to ask. If there is something, they want to know I want them to ask. I want people to say I am sorry I cannot imagine, Now what can I do! More than anything I want people to ask how they can make a difference, I want them to ask how they can notice. I am tired of the silence, tired of people wanting to sweep things under the carpet. I can not be quiet, and I won't be. Oh I know just how uncomfortable that it is, but its necessary. I am tired of the disbelief of children. I have been hurt by that disbelief more times than I can count and I promise you it’s devastating.

As hard as I have worked on my healing, my heart should not hurt anymore, but it does. There is so much fight to save others, to fight for all the injustices that I have experienced and to keep others from experiencing those same things. I will fight for others and I won't stop. I can not get back all that I have lost but I can save others from loosing what is theirs to keep. I put up a wall talking to Pastor when he said dwelling, because of my very own trauma goggles and that is not what he was saying at all. I wrote him another email, trying to get him to understand, I probably said too much, but I again was desperate for understanding. And I got the calmest most understanding email back and there might not be understanding but there was a peace that he heard me, understood, and hated the things that happened and how I was treated and the freedom in that is something more than amazing, in ways that don’t even have words. Those are the things that matter, that heal a heart.

Maybe that’s all that people like me want, we want to be acknowledged, we want to be heard and understood. In that, we have to know that not everyone can understand, but we must never stop trying to make difference.  We have trauma goggles; we can never take them off and it's in how we see things that we can make a difference. Would I give them up? I think sometimes it would be amazing, to not see the violence, the pain the hate but I see the simplicity of the little things and I would never give that up either. So maybe I am exactly where I am meant to be and it hurts like hell and its more than hard but I will make a difference, and do things differently and I hope and pray that my journey will inspire others to do the same and someday I can rest and take the trauma goggles off, but until that someday they stay and I continue to fight.

And so I keep breathing. I heart your heart.

 

One word, that word.

 

 

One word that takes my breath away that hurts my heart that cuts like a sword.

Rape.

Today that word came out of Vincent’s mouth. The world stopped and I still cannot breathe, literally, I cannot catch my breath. I threw up, and bent over not being able to breathe. I never used to even speak that word and avoided it at any cost. I have come a long way. Nevertheless, I heard it from my son, and I was shocked, I was hurt, I was ashamed. I don't even remember all the words he said. Mariska had thrown some old headless Barbies away and he found them when he was doing the trash, and made some comment about them being raped and he laughed. As soon as the words came out, I looked at him, he knew..., and he said I didn't mean too...but they were said and it was like daggers through my heart. He has no idea what the word means, or why I was so affected but he knew that it wasn't good. I sent him to his room and told him that I would talk to him in minute. I just calmly, heart pounding went to his room and told him not to use words that he didn't understand. That that word was something serious. And the tears started. And again, I said, DO NOT ever use that word, like that again. He said he was sorry, asked why I was crying, asked if I was ok. I didn't have any words.

That was over an hour ago and still I can't breathe, I had no idea that I would be so affected. Oh my heart hurts I wish that was not a needed word. I wish I wasn't so bothered, I wish that it didn't affect me but it did, such a little word such big meaning. I don't want my children to have to understand that word. In this moment I want to breathe easy, I want my heart to stop hurting, I want to forget. He doesn't know what that word means, and I don't want him too. The reality of that word what it means to me what it will mean to them...not an easy thing. I was not ready for how it came out of his mouth. So careless, so unthoughtful and I remind myself of his innocence he is ten and doesn't have a clue I was ten and knew all about it.

Such an ugly ugly word. I just want to crawl in bed and sleep it away....Just sleep rape away, today it hurts and its deep and painful and oozing.

I was caught so off guard and I make sure that doesn't happen often. And something big like this. I did not see it coming. I just had to lie down for a while, I was overwhelmed, and that is reality. I know that I have a lot to work on if I am this affected and it was nothing personal. I wasn't included, it wasn't about me, it was one single word that was said. I know sweet Vincent doesn't have a clue, I am afraid of them getting older. Asking questions, I am terrified. I am afraid they will hate me, think differently, and see me as a victim. I want them to know that I am ok. That I have made it. I hope my heart will calm down, I know the day is coming when they will understand, and that thought is terrifying.

I am so very sorry that this is something my children will have to know. I am so very sorry this word affects so many.

I heart you heart.



 

 



Meant To Be

After these last few weeks that were exceptionally hard I am trying to recover my heart, trying to remember to breathe to let my heart beat easy. I am carrying a lighter load then ever but still there are times its crushing and that was these last few weeks. As sure as I am trying; I know that these are the things that were Meant to be. I was meant to be a mom, I was meant to be a teacher and I was even meant to be here in Plano. And dare I say it, I think I just might belong at Gateway. And I can tell you without question that I don't understand any of this. I don't understand the hurt and the pain, I don't understand this crazy journey of mine at all.....but things will work out for the sheer fact that they have too.

For me to be a mom is one of the biggest gifts. Oh I love them more than my own life. If it wasn't for that day, I wouldn't have them, they wouldn't be Vincent and Mariska and that would be terribly sad. Oh they have the most amazing hearts and they are going to do great things. They love with all that they have. Their kindness to others, to the picked on, to the defenceless, to the smallest of the small is incredible. They are going to go way beyond anything that I have ever done and I get to guide them in this world. They know with out a doubt that I love them with my whole heart , I love them and will keep them safe and sound. I get frustrated because of the burdens that they have to bare but I have to hope and pray that we will always be open and that they will share their heart and I can be honest and true and let the love I have guide me to the answers to ease their heart. People say I could have made a different choice that many women would have but for me, this was one of those things in life that wasn't a choice. I was meant to be a mom, to be their mom and the three of us make quite a team. I understand that they long for a father, and they are making that very known lately, I hope that with time, a kind gentle man can come into their lives and be that strong support that they need. When that time comes I have to know that they will be safe and that this man won't harm them but will care for their heart and keep them safe like nothing I have known. Safety is big, where I had none. I worry about them at school, when they ride their bike, when they are not with me. I will not fail too notice and I have to trust that there are others in this world that will also notice and act. They are growing up, I can not believe that they are already 10 years old. They have questions about my life, that they are trying o understand. There are times there is a gentleness in them asking questions about my life, to have my life is one thing but for it to affect your children is something different. Somehow, someway this is all going to turn into something amazing.

To be a teacher. Oh being a teacher is in my bones. I am so alive when I am in the classroom. I do not understand why I do not have my own class yet, but I know that big things are coming; I know that because they have too. Even being in a Music class these next few weeks, with no lessons no materials no admin support I am making it work, and it has been amazing. I love greeting those little faces each class, and seeing them, and not just looking at them but I see them and that makes a difference. I may have some opportunities to speak that I would not have if I were already in a classroom. There are ways that my story can help, and I have to do that. To get to share my views as a victim and get others to understand their power and how they can help, that is important, that is life changing. To speak with Law Enforcement, and professionals who deal with people like me ALL THE TIME, letting them know how they can make a difference, that would be powerful and life changing. I am ready to stand on the mountaintop, and say my truth. My story comes into play ALL THE TIME, it just does and instead of counting that against me, maybe I need to start seeing it a little different. Maybe this year is my opportunity for that. I know that the perfect Job is out there for me, and I will keep sending my resume out, keep emailing, not caring if I am being a pest or not. I was meant to teach, I was meant to notice little hearts. The place where I can do the most good just hasn’t opened up for me yet. Please don't take that as I am waiting I will take almost anything while I am waiting but I know there is that perfect place where I fit where I will be at home. I admit that it has been discouraging going on interviews second interviews then hearing nothing. When I am ignored by administration But then I hear other teachers tell me that I am good, that I should be in the classroom, that the kids enjoy me as their teacher and I know that I have to listen to my heart on this one. I was meant to teach, I was meant to make a difference. And that is exactly where I am headed.

To be in Plano. This just might be the biggest gift that I have ever received, in about a week; it will have been a year since I moved here. I sometimes feel like a leech, as if I am not productive enough, not working hard enough, I worry that I am in the way. Nevertheless, I have to say, I have never felt more at home. You know that feeling when things are comfortable, when you are wanted when you are cared for, I have that in Plano. There isn't even a word for just how grateful that I am. My heart has been heard, my heart is usually listened too. I have room to heal here in the last year, and of coarse, there is more to do, but the fact that it was even possible is a blessing. There is lots of laughing, lots of shaking out heads, lots of rearranging, and so much love. Truman has Vincent and Mariska and they have him. Vincent and Mariska are going to a school that they love, where they fit right in, and are getting opportunities that I could never have imagined. I am cared for here, as I have never been cared for. I m supported like I have never known and its amazing. I worry that I am a bother and that comes from me, from what I have experienced in the past, but today, I have to sit in the fact that being taken care of is something that is ok for right now. I want to do it all on my own, more than you can imagine and the fact is that right now that isn't an option. I am doing all that I can and getting stronger and my day is coming. The people that I have met, the things that I have gotten to experience here have made life-changing differences for me, and that is something miraculous. Being here in Plano is my miracle. I hope that maybe in some small way I might be helping, giving back oh how I hope.

And then there is Gateway. I don't know for sure, if this is where I am supposed to be but then at the same time I do. People said oh just go try different churches, check them out. That just is not me. I have stepped out of the box many times over this past year. I have gotten way out of my comfort zone and grown a lot. However, there are still areas that I guard my heart with walls and barbed wire. And Church is one of those things. Church is complicated for me, and it’s tangled in so much of how I grew up. I have done lots of unraveling to a place where I believe in God with my whole heart but there is lot of unraveling left to do. I had the chance to speak with Pastor Blake this week and he is kind, and caring and all the things that I am looking for. He called my children precious and that meant the world. He shares from his heart and is genuine. He does not pretend to know all the answers but will show you how to make sense out of the senseless. I am not ready to call this place my home yet. It is not like when I went to the corners but I a not in the same place either; I need different things now than I did then. I want so much for this church to understand my questions and know that I am going to need a lot of patience and tons of kindness. My doubt is not that I don't believe my doubt is that ...well that is it I don't even know. I want to have faith and believe and maybe jut maybe this is a place where it can grow and flourish. There was so much to say in my meeting with him and I am sure I sounded crazy. I was nervous and wanted to run, but I did not. My children fit there and that is important. We all know that I am not the joiner and that this is more than difficult for me, I am terrified and even going this morning, I am terrified. But I need to find out if this is my home, and exactly where I am meant to be. All these things are the hope that things are getting better, that things happen for a reason and that I will be ok, truly truly.

I heart your heart.

It's not fair

 

 

You know it just isn't fair.  I am not that kind of person I am not one to say why me in fact its usually the opposite most of the time but today the only thing that fits, the only words that I can find right now is : LIFE IS NOT FAIR. Its not right that today hurts so much. Its not right that my joy as a child was taken Its not right that I have to tell them why there is no father. It is not fair that I have been used since the time that I was five it is not fair that my children don't have a father.  Its not fair that the only people who love me are far away its not fair, that I don't have people to hold my hand through the pain.  Its not fair that I  can't get a peaceful sleep, its not fair that I was hurt over and over and over. Its not fair that I see the pictures of what happened to me over and over and that's when my eyes are open.  Its not fair that I feel what happened to me in my bones.  Its not fair that sometimes I can't take a shower because of the flashbacks.  Its not fair that I have to hurt like this. Its not fair that I don't know what its like to be normal.  Its not fair, the life that I have been dealt is not fair and it hurts, it hurts like hell.  Its not fair that I am so on my own, that people don't stay around that people can't handle the life that I have to live every single day.  ITS NOT FAIR. ITS just not.  Its not fair that my children are going to have to find out what happened to me its not fair that their little hearts are going to have to deal with that.  Its not fair ....this life of mine.....Its just not fair!  My heart is so hurt and I have healed and will keep healing and I am grateful for the people that have walked with me along the way, but this hurts.  There is no hurt like this, its inexplainable really, there are no words no sounds its a haunting screech if it had a sound.  And this crazy thing called life, I love it.  I love hearing people laugh, I love how people love. I love the innocence of children and how they experience the world.  I love giving and I love nature, and the trees and the whales and with all that my life it's still not fair.  My heart has been treated unfairly my whole entire life and ITS NOT RIGHT ITS NOT FAIR.....there are no words to make it better, no band-aid that is big enough ......its not fair that I have to do life on my own....Its not fair that people don't know what to do with me so they do nothing at all....Its not fair that I am such an outcast and always have been.  It's not fair that i have to fight, have to fight for everything.  And you want people to be happy but sometimes it seems that everyone's life is moving forward and you would just like someone to sit with you in yours; even if its for a few minutes.  I just don't want to do this alone, I need people to hear me and to understand and to make a difference.  My life just isn't at all fair.....And this is so not me, I don't sit around saying oh poor me life isn't fair but today that is all I have.  I am so grateful for the things I have and I am sad how I have been treated in this lifetime, I am sad that no one sees no one notices and I am left.  I am one of those people, for whatever reason was chosen for this life here and no and no matter how I look at it, its not fair for anyone person to carry all of this burden.  I am sure that I will keep fighting, I am sure I will keep trying, I am sure I will keep healing.  But None of it IS FAIR....... , I want to curl up and make it go away, the sadness is too much I don't want to fight anymore  Tomorrow will be better and I will be back to fighting but not today

Precious

This year, this day seems to be hitting me harder than normal. I don't know why its hitting me so hard it just is, and I want to scream at the world to stop for just a little while. I need a break, I want to crawl in a hole until it blows over and I can come out free and whole. The kids are getting older and asking questions, I am sure that’s part of it. I think its a lot of little things that have added up, and its hard. This year its more about me. Because I know that Vincent and Mariska are taken care of. Their little hearts are cared for and they don't have every want but they know that I love them with out a doubt. I know that the time is coming for the focus to be on them and to make sure that their questions are answered and their heart is cared for. Right now, this day I am worried about mine. Its not fine and it definitely is not ok. My heart ; its heavy and broken and sorrowful.

I have really been enjoying my children, the little things that make them who they are things they love, things they do, their little mannerisms that make me smile. And I think the part that breaks my heart is that the crime that was committed gave me my two biggest blessings. And trying to find rhyme or reason to that is futile. I can ask questions all day long and there will be no answers. I have said a million times a million I would do it all again to have my children. My children are absolutely the biggest blessings ever in my life. I don't want it to seem that I am not grateful for them each and every day. What bothers me is their kind tender little souls will someday have to learn about the evil that happened to their mom. That is the hard part, and they were a result of that evil .....that is gut wrenching, that is unthinkable. Its easy for me to separate them from that day. It happened, and I tried to gather all the broken pieces, for two weeks. I cried and just couldn't understand why again, what was wrong with me?!? Then after two weeks and feeling like I had the flu, oh I was so sick and a girl at work laughed and said girl you are pregnant. That thought never crossed my mind.....So I took the test and I waited and I saw two pink lines and I was in shock, and I laid on the floor and cried with my dog Rizzo. I knew that nothing would ever be the same. In these moments, things changed, I swept the broken pieces under the rug, because I was going to be a mom. In that instant nothing else mattered, absolutely nothing. They are my most amazing children that bring me joy, bring me life, bring me peace that I never thought I would have.

But this day before they were even in the picture, before they were conceived is the part that kills me, that tears at my soul, the day that I wanted to be normal that I wasn't listened too and I was assaulted. The part where the broken pieces are, the ones that I swept under the rug about what happened to me, those are the pieces that tear at my heart. I don't even have the words to how difficult this is, its unthinkable, heart wrenching, terribly sad that I had to experience that day, that Charles took what wasn't his to take. Its hard to acknowledge the pain, when I have these two most amazing people in my life because of that pain. As wonderful as they are and all the happiness that they bring, there is a sadness, and that is the part that I want to understand. Without that crime, with out those pieces I wouldn't be the person that I am today. There are no nice neat boxes for dealing with something like this, and oh how I wish that there were. But its messy, its scary, and makes you realize just how fragile that life is. One moment I was being raped, the next I was becoming a mother.

There was a time when I wanted my children to think that he wasn't a bad guy, he wasn't evil he just didn't listen to me. And as I began to look more closely, it was so much more, he knew what he was doing, I believe that when he came to my house he knew what he was going to do. He never had any plans to take me shopping. And oh that’s all I wanted, I remember taking a shower being excited wondering where we were going to go, I believed that I was going to help him, I believed that I was going to spend the day with a good guy. I was going to laugh and help, and pick out clothes for his trip to Afghanistan. He had a good job he worked at Raytheon in McKinney, and was doing some contract work. I mean really why in the world, would he want me to go shopping with him?!?! But then that thought never crossed my mind, I was going to be normal and in that, I turned off all reason, ignored every red flag, and was like that little girl getting ready for a date. I get angry at myself, I can remember the excitement that I felt that morning. Think of a first date, I have never had one but I imagine this is what it would be like, I was that excited. He was late, said that he got lost. I said that was ok, he smelled of cologne and smoke.. He was tall so much taller than me, I think I gave him a hug, there was a stiffness to him, not kind, he had intentions that I knew nothing about, I was ready to go, he was not. And how we ended up in my room, I don't know. I remember talking about a mobile of birds that I had above my door, it is said that it kept evil spirits and bad men away. I guess not.....mine must have been broken.

My mind was on overload, I know that I wanted to go shopping but things didn't seem to be going that way, I can remember feeling scared and I ignored it. I think there was a piece of my heart that knew, and I just didn't want it to be true... I wanted normal, not rape. I wanted shopping, and laughing that is what I wanted. I tried so hard to believe that, it never happened. He went through the motions and I don't even know . He knew exactly what he wanted, exactly what he was doing. The more I pleaded, the more he ignored, and the moment it changed and the moment I gave up was when that orange pillow fell on my face, because I knew what was going to happen, I knew what I was good for. That was the moment, the moment when you can't believe what is happening, what is being taken and your body is there, but your soul can't be there, can't understand what/why/ how is this happening and that moment is the most helpless, terrible moment because there is absolutely nothing that you can do. Its totally completely shattering. That is the part that I hold in my hands, today, 11 years later, those broken, shattered and  slivered pieces.  I am more than trying to make them all fit back together into something that is precious, and pretty again. That is where I am today. Loving my children and all that they are but sad for the things that tear at my heart, that morning when all I wanted was normal.

 

I heart your heart.

11 years, 574 weeks ,4015 days AGO....

Hard to believe that it has been 11 years since that day. Some days it seems so very far away some days it feels like it was yesterday. And the times when Vincent starts asking questions makes it feel like one of the biggest mountains that I will ever have to face.  My sweet Vincent and Mariska turned 10 this year and I can not believe it. They are growing into these amazing humans that I am sure are going to do great things. And with all that I am I wish that I could just cut this day out of every book every story every truth and have it be something that they never have to understand. They are getting older and I am sure the time is coming, this year when they are going to need answers. They are going to need an explanation, they are going to have to know and I will make it age appropriate. I will only answer what they ask, and each question will break my heart for theirs. I am incredibly sorry that this is something that they even have to think about worry about and deal with. I want them to understand just how important that they are and regardless of what happened to me, I was joyous when I found out that I was going to be their mom. I smiled through the entire pregnancy including the morning sickness morning , noon and night. Including being so huge I couldn’t walk around the grocery store. I cried at the thought of getting to be their mom and keep them safe and protected all the days of their lives. I would listen to the heart monitor and smile listening to those little hearts beat away. I read to them and talked to them all the time every day. Mariska would be awake every morning around 3 am and I would fix the pillow and pat my huge belly talking to her , telling her how excited that I was to meet her, and tell her all the things that I wanted for her. Vincent loved when I would take a bath, he moved all over the place , it was more than a little crowded in there and I can remember a few times seeing his little legs travel from one side of my belly to the other and I thought it was the coolest most amazing thing I had ever seen. Those are the things that I want my children to remember those are the stories that I want to tell them about and remember when we talk about that time. But there is also a time to tell the truth, and for them I know that time is coming. I don’t know how its going to go yet. I don’t know how the words are going to form and even come out of my mouth. How does a mother that loves her children more than life tell them how they were conceived ? How does a mother whose children made her the person that she is today tell them that she was raped? And I DO NOT HAVE A CLUE. I do not know how those words are going to leave my lips and I am beyond terrified. Sometimes in my head I think about the love story that I would like to share with them, I think of others who are parents and the love story that they have and for me its nothing even close to those and it makes me sad. I want that kind of story for them, I want them to have that story in their head, and its not an option. I can be honest, show them my heart and pray that they can know and understand the love that I have had for them since the moment I found out I was pregnant. I don’t think any amount of preparation will ever be enough. Nothing can possibly get a person ready for this kind of truth. For me having to speak it and them having to hear it and understand it, is something unimaginable. I think for them its going to be a lifelong process as they understand more, as their questions change, as they mature and want to understand. Its going to be a life long process for the three of us, but I hope and pray that I can help their hearts understand how loved and how amazing that they truly are. I want their little hearts to know that I am fine and am more than grateful for the gift that I received by getting to be their mom. But the questions are coming. Vincent heard someone talking about height and how you take the moms and the dads height and you can figure out the child's height. Vincent got quiet and later asked “Well mom, I don’t have a dad how will we figure out my height ?” And literally it broke my heart, I told him that I am sure he would be taller then me, look how tall that he already was. The answer fit for the moment and he is so unaware of the seriousness of the things that he asks. They have had the puberty talk and how that all works. Next will come the sex talk and pieces will begin to come together and I am scared. I just want them to understand, I want to do it right and in a way that protects their little hearts s much as I possibly can. The most difficult part is knowing that hurt is going to be involved. The feeling little hearts that they have are going to hurt and I think that’s the worst part, the part that I dread the most and I just have to be strong to handle that and help with whatever their heart might need. I am afraid and hope that at the right time I will have not the right answers but the gentle answers to help them understand.

My heart on the other hand is something different. My heart is still sad and confused and scared and wants to understand why WHY? WHY WHY ? I still beat myself up about that day. All the things that I should have known. All the red flags and still the need to be normal do normal things was so overwhelming that I turned my senses off. I never even really talked about him until maybe 4 years ago. And something came up about Charles and I can see it as clear as anything…..He said “did he rape you” and I didn’t know how to answer. I had been raped since I was 5, I should be able to answer that and I couldn’t. I couldn’t acknowledge it. I knew what happened and I couldn’t answer the question. In my head I was a slut that I asked for it. Because I wanted to be normal go out to lunch help him shop for his up coming trip. Was I raped ? Yes, Charles raped me, but In my head I was a slut, I should have known that he had no intention of going shopping. He knew what he was going to do when he showed up at my door. My pleas and asking him to stop didn’t matter because I should have seen it coming, I should have known and I didn’t and I was the one that ended up hurt. Before that day in that room I never acknowledged it was rape for a single second. In my head I was a slut and he just didn’t listen when I kept saying over and over but we are supposed to go shopping ? Please stop, we are supposed to go shopping. And since I had the life that I did, when the pillow fell on my face, the panic set in and I knew he was going to get what he wanted and I went away. I went away in my head and waited for him to be done. There was no violence, and I say that and cringe, he didn’t listen to me, I said no, told him to stop and he didn’t listen. I wanted so much to be normal, just be a part of something regular normal everyday and once again look where it got me. He was done and got dressed, I remember him putting his sandals back on, and he walked to the door. I put my shirt on and walked to the door and he made some comment about his beautiful shiny BMW, I was a wreck. He left drove away and I cried myself to sleep in my bed. I couldn’t understand, I didn’t want this to happen I wanted to be regular to be normal to do regular things like lunch and shopping…..Nothing in my mind included rape …..I was so naive so very very naive and I should have known. This is the part that breaks my own heart that I wanted to fit in and be so normal that I shut off everything I knew and I paid the price. People have made the most awful comments and made the things I tell myself stick. Like the counselor who said well you made the bed now lie in it, the guy that my mom knew at the bank who made the comment that I should have kept my legs closed, and he was a preacher in a church. The Dr who was amazing when I told him the date that I got pregnant, he thought I was crazy that I couldn’t have known the date. I never told him why or that it was a date that I would never be able to forget. I had someone tell me that I got pregnant on purpose, that was crushing. My heart is just so heavy because it doesn’t just affect me, its my children, the pieces of my heart that are out living in the world have to understand this. This is a rape that affects everything for ever and I hate that. And as much as I hate it there is nothing I can do about it. I do not know what I am going to do this month on that date. Its next week and I am scared.  If I have a job by then I will be decorating my room and celebrating, taking that quiet moment trying to be ok. If I don’t yet have a job I will just try to be in the moment and take each second as it comes. I am going to try and give my heart some breathing room, maybe let someone know that I don’t want to be alone, pretend that I am fine. The day is next week and my heart is heavy, my head hurts.  On the day next week I will celebrate my children and be grateful.  I have pretended a really long time that everything is ok, and today its not ok its just not. My heart Its breaking, its broken its in pieces and tomorrow I will be ok, the day after I will be ok. But the day that it happened that I wasn’t listened to that I was ignored that I was raped all those 11 years ago I am sad, so very sad and also so very grateful that I got the most amazing precious gift. My children.

 

 

 I heart your heart.

When you don't know the little things or the big things

Once again I watched Captain Phillips and cried and those last few minutes are something so close to my heart that I can understand.  Those few minutes when he realizes that he is safe, its more than powerful.  That for me is indescribable  in those moments after the worst attacks there are no words, I would not have even been able to speak. I think about the time with my father that I couldn't stop crying, there were no words, I wanted to speak but I couldn't the shock, the fear, the pain it was all too overwhelming. Then I think about the gang rape, No words I just tried to fix the fringe if I could just do that everything would be fine make everything like it was 18 hours before then all would be well. And then I think about being in the police station when I pressed charges and I was asked what my address was growing up and I couldn't tell you. All that happened in that house the years and years that I lived there and I could not remember the address. My detective was amazing, kept reassuring me that it was ok but ... for me it wasn't ok....

It wasn't . It wasn't ok and nothing that I had ever experienced was ok. My heart is broken and I couldn't even remember the simple things and people expected me to cry and carry on and give them details!!!! I didn't have the words ....and no one wanted to truly hear them anyway. Today there are still times that I don't have any words, and I don't understand after all this time

H does a girl of 5, 8 13, 28 do that ? This was my life. This was my life.

Its crazy that even sometimes being an adult I will get asked a question and I know the answer I know the words but in my head there is a silence, there is some golden rule that keeps a person quite that somehow puts a lock and key on my lips that keeps the words from coming out and that is if there are words. Often there are no words its silence and pictures and memories. Oh the memories, at any given day there are lots of them sometimes my father, sometimes, Albert , most of the time its Don and them. And that is all when my eyes are open, it gets worse when they are closed.

I am not kind to myself. I am angry that my heart still hurts angry that i can't just get over it. Angry that it is taking me so long to heal, that I still see the pictures of the things that have happened. I am angry at God, Angry at the people around me who ignored, angry that even though I didn't speak no one noticed either. I am angry that I can't do this on my own, that I need others to walk with me and help me along.

Even living in this most amazing house, I feel like a leech and I don't understand why I am not getting calls for jobs. I am doing the right things. I don't understand why I am not yet employed. I feel like there is always something with me and I can't catch my breath. I don't have words for most of my life, it is beyond understanding and I get glimpses of good things and I would like for them to last. I don't want easy I want doable. I do the work I just need the chance. Some pieces are falling into place and just a few more things will be better, I will feel like a productive member of society.

Sorry this one is a bunch of random that is everything in my head....there are so many things heavy  on my mind; I am absolutely exhausted. There is little sleep lots of nightmares when I do sleep, and the worry that I am being a pest, that I am a leech and not doing the things that I need to do. People are talking about redoing their kitchen and I feel like I am in he way. I feel like I am always fighting, and I am so tired. I want my own class. And not fifth grade. I would do it, I would be good I would care for their hearts, but I can tell you it would take a toll on mine. Fifth grade was incredibly hard and being around that everyday would be really hard again I would be fine, but it would take its toll, a huge toll. It would take a toll hat I am sure people would not understand, I know that fifth grade is not the place for me.

I feel like there is so much that I don't know right now. The little things, the big things I don't know. I don't even have a clue what’s next but one foot in front of the other I am trying to believe that everything happens for a reason and I don't have a clue what that is, but I hope that soon really soon it will get a little clearer. And soon maybe, hopefully sooner than later I will have a clue and move forward.  I need a place to call my own, a place  to be proud of and full of all my beautiful things, soon.  A place for my family to have people over a place that makes my heart happy that I can provide . I am doing the right things I just have to keep putting one foot in front of the other, in front of the other, and good things will happen. It has too.