Rear View Mirror

 I so struggle with this and am often not very kind to myself.  You know people say you can't keep looking back and that makes so much sense.  I hear those words and think of coarse!   I mean of coarse you are moving forward in life growing learning changing and I know that when you look at the things behind you all the time....there is a sense of being stuck of not being able to move forward in some ways.  I think one of my biggest fears is people telling me or even thinking that I am dwelling on all the things that have happened in my life.  That fear is more than HUGE. I don't want to be that poor me person sitting in the corner crying about the things that have happened. I don't want to be that person that is unable to move forward because they are so stuck in the past.  And at the same time I feel like there are things that are completely out of my control I want to run forward and do life; there are things that keep me exactly where I do not want to be and that is in the past.  My body; my physical body may be moving forward but my mind and my heart are still trying to survive and all they see is the hurt and the pain and the utter evil from the past and they are desperately trying to figure it out.  They struggle to keep up with the part that knows moving forward in life is such a necessity. But I feel so distant, like I am not even in my own skin sometimes, and that makes living in the present sometimes, always often very difficult.

I guess call it C-PTSD, PTSD  call it whatever you want, but my body lives as if the things that have happened to me are still happening . I re-live them in my head, almost every second, every minute every hour  trying to make them better, figure them out, trying to make things come out a different way , I have to fight all the time.  I think there is a part of my brain that doesn't understand that's its all over.  My brain feels like those things are still happening, my body is/was a war zone.  The rapes are over, that assaults, the torture, the pain, its all over; it was a very long time ago. In my head I know all the things to say and feel , I can understand that I can never change things, never make them different.  I understand in my head that I have already survived them there is no need to fight anymore.  That makes sense I know that, every part of that.


But my heart, My heart.

 I worry about this heart of mine because there is so much hurt and worry about being hurt again that I move forward doing life the only way that I know how.  My heart fights, trying to make everything make sense, trying to understand the unimaginable.  In my head I know  the things that I need to do; its so clear.  I understand what has happened as a 44 year old woman but my body, my soul  can't forget and often live in a place where its all still happening.   Things are not so clear for my heart. I see every picture every feeling every moment when I thought that I was going to die, when I wanted to die.  I remember all the hands everywhere, and there was nothing that I could do.  I remember the looks the words, the sounds that I heard and the way that things were messed up. I remember so very many little details that seem so insignificant and yet my mind replays them.  There are memories when I sleep and memories when I am awake.  It's so crazy making to know in my head that things are over, I am a woman , a mom and that I am safe.  And at the same time my body gets achy, my arms and legs fall asleep,  my mind goes back there wanting to understand. I wish that there was a picture to show all the ways that I know its over and yet all the ways that I relive it in every way.  When I was little the rapes were terrible , physically my body was in pain and to feel that as a 44 year old is unimaginable and I try to make sense of those feelings keep them in my head and tell myself that those things aren't happening anymore doesn't work.  Lately and since sharing my story my body hurts.   My hips hurt,  and I don't know what to do with that.  How after all this time do I still feel that?  How does my body still experience the physicality of the things that have happened.  I know that I have survived them but the things that I feel make me worry if I will make it, if I will come out whole on the other end.  There is literally nothing wrong, but my body remembers and that is more than hard to get my head around.  The days I can't brush my teeth, the days I can't be touched, the days that the dogs are on me and hurt more than you can imagine, my skin and bones literally hurt me.  I don't understand this part and this part keeps me looking back.   I get more than angry when the nightmares come and think I am sleeping how in the world am I supposed t make that stop!?!?  I run and run in my nightmares I get passed around, more hurt and there is nothing that I can do. I replay and replay events and people in so many different situations and all the time no one is there , And I have to do it all myself.  I somehow became the cleanup specialist, and no one ever noticed.  This is  the hardest piece, not wanting to be in your own skin. Because you are well aware of the things that do happen in your own skin.  There are parts that there are not even any words for,  and how do I heal those parts.  The parts that terrify me and I am not even sure why.  I so want to move forward and the nightmares, flashbacks, the memories, the smells the sounds all those things always keep me looking back trying to be safe. And I think times I have gotten close , there was always something that brought me right back to fighter.  I can remember once in IOP talking about one specific time and just talking that it felt like they were there forever,  So many little details are sketched in my brain, for once I was just talking about the whole experience.

  And I still remember her name she asked how long that he was there.  I said that I didn't know and she kind of chuckled and said well sex doesn't take that long.  I literally wanted to crawl in a hole. This had been happening to me since I was 5, how in the hell can I give you a specific time there is no frame of reference for me.  When someone is hurting your body in ways that you don't understand it feels like forever, and its crushing.  I hate when my body feels like it did then the pain is unimaginable and I can not get my head around surviving that.  I get really defensive when people talk about how its OK if your body responds.  No for me it isn't, that makes me just like them.  That sometimes, a body just does that,  because for me there is nothing but pain,  either pain or the things that that were doing were so painful that I went away. I was either watching outside myself, in the corner, on the ceiling making sure my animals were safe.  Anywhere was better than on my bed , his bed the floor anyplace was better than being where my little body was being torn in ways that I still can't put words on.  I already always hated being a girl anyway, I hated attention that I got I hated that I matured so early I hated that I had a body at all.  And as much as I try to forget those things that are in the rear view mirror there are pieces and bits and more pieces reminding me of all the ways I didn't win.  Talking about this part honestly is more than difficult, and breaks my heart.  I feel like I have so much to prove, I have to make people understand how terrifying that this all was.
 I have to prove and make people understand that the OK that you see on the outside is no where even close to OK. I promise that I am not being difficult, I am trying more than hard and as much as I want to heal there are pieces that pull me back. I don't know how to grab a hold of those pieces and make them go away.  Nothing that ever happened to me was important or ever meant anything.  Every abuse every rape, every hurt was just another day.  All those days all those times were never acknowledged , never important never taken care of and now here I am, trying to thrive and be a strong woman but my heart is in pieces feeling like I am a burden and a bother because I can't hold on to them anymore.   

I often think that maybe if I had known something else it would be easier to overcome, all I have ever known is survival and running.  There have been moments of peace, and I cherish those, and I cherish the people who have helped me find those moments but I need that in my everyday. When I do get it, that peace, that person who hears I hold on for dear life, because little Callahan sure can not do all this on her own.

What a huge piece.

I heart your heart.

What do I want ?

Yes this is more than rough I can tell you all the things that I don't want.  I can tell you all the ways that I don't want to be that I don't want to get in the way  don't want to be a pest I don't want to be a Burden,I don't want to take too much time I don't want to be a bother I don't want to waste your time, I don't want to sound stupid I don't want others t feel bad for me I don't want to be an outsider I don't want to have such a heavy life.  I don't want to be the odd ball the one that is never understood. I don't always want to be the quiet one, and I also don;t want to say the wrong things I could go on and on.....there are so many things that I don't want to be ......And I more than worry that telling people the things that I do want  are just way to much to ask.

And I think the things that I do want, I feel more than needy.  I feel like the things that I want that I long for are to much to ask.  When I reach out and have asked for the things that I have needed most often my needs have not been met.  I think for me even basic needs being met make me feel like I am asking for too much.  I long for safety.  I want to be safe and know that where ever I go and whatever I do that I am able to keep myself safe and sound.  I have had it a few times but nothing that has lasted .  I am never saying its never been, I have known it a few times but then just like that I become overwhelming and my needs and my wants don't match theirs and I become unimportant and forgotten.  I just want to find a place where I belong where I fit in, where I am given space to be me, where I am loved and cared for just because of the person that I am not what anyone else wants me to be. I want people to listen to me and even try to understand where I am coming from.  I want the things that I am interested in and believe in to be taken seriously.  I want my heart to be heard, I want my heart to be taken care of.  Those that are close to or even those that know my story I want them to be genuine and understand , they don't have to be careful around me but they must be mindful.  There are things that are always going to pierce my heart things that have left wounds  that are sometimes open, I want people to be aware and give me space give me comfort and just be if I need it.  I have to say that lately I have reached out and I have been received more warmly than I ever imagined.  So I can say that now in this moment I have a place, its worrying though ; that this place will go away that I will become to much, that I will need to much that I will   take to much time and  be seen as a burden. I fear that more than anything. I understand that not everyone can always be there.  I just want that when I ask that someone please show up.  Because it takes more than you can imagine for me to even ask, I do not ask lightly, I ask if my heart depends on it, and that is the only time I ask.  I am often shocked at myself when I do reach out because so many times I have asked for help, I have asked for even simple things but that is too much.  I NEVER EVER want to bother anyone I just want to be important and to be special to someone for someone to care enough to hold my hand when I am going through hard things and someone who will laugh with me and the things I find funny.  I want someone that I can share my life with, even a forever friend that will be there that I know I can count on.  Those are the things that I want and at 44, I fear that asking for that forever person is something that is not meant for me but do I want that at least something like that more than ever I do .  That person who says get up I am taking you out, that person who comes over and watches my favorite movie because they know it will make me laugh.  That person who thinks of my love of whales and sends me a little hello.  Those are the things that make my heart happy and those are the things that I want from this life.  I want someone that asks how my heart is every now and then when they know things are rough.  I want someone to care for my heart and be more than kind and even more gentle.  I often feel like no matter what I do I can't win.  And once, just once with out a doubt I want to win, I want to be the favorite I want my heart taken care of, I want my very own place with my very own friends where I fit in for the crazy  kind spunky crazy passionate person that I am .  That I fear is all too much to ask. And  I can't believe that I still keep fighting even when each time I am left I feel a little more broken than before.  For once in this life I want someone to leave me better than before.

I heart your heart

I heart your heart.

All About Tribes, finding your people

You have to heal to find your tribe . On your journey of healing , you must use the support you find along the way wisely. Do not try to hold onto everyone who hands you a pillow to rest your heart, or a piece of bread to feed your soul.  They are not meant to travel with you, so the only way for you to keep them is  to stop travelling on the healing journey. Trust that others are waiting for your arrival on the journey. One day your tribe will greet you.  They may not be survivors. They won't be related to you.  They may be the least likely suspect and it may take you a while to recognize them. You may meet them in at a place you cant even imagine being right now. You may have to travel another decade on the path to find them. But, you can only travel one day at a time. If you stop, you will never reach them.  They cannot come and rescue you. You must travel to where they are. So keep moving. Keep Healing. 

Dr. Rosenna Bakari, #we#2 

Too Much Love Is Not Enough 

On Silence of Littles

Sometimes there are things that hit. And when they hit you its like they know the words that have been swirling in your head; the things that you long for the things that you hope someday will be.  I found this poem on Facebook by Nora Cooper called On Silence.  And the words were this .......

A little while ago another poet asked me for the name of my abuser. They said this was to protect their friends.  So I told them.  I didn't want to I thought I had to. It's just that I have heard so much about survival, Like I should not lie if I am going to cry wolf I must name it. Don't be another girl making another mountain out of a mo-hill. I have heard so much about strength so much about how the voice is redemption; how to speak is to heal sometimes I feel like everyone just wants the resurrection story out of me,  The parts of my survival I know how to make useful.  I am so ashamed of all that which I do not say and sometimes I don't want to talk about it, I don't want to write a poem about it, I don't want to tell my mom. I don't want anyone to look at me like I am brave or like I am a little bird with a broken wing or to look at me at all...Sometimes my heart is breaking and other times I am just tired. I have spent so much time at war with my silence I have forgotten everything she has done for me. When I was terrified to speak when my abuser was in the audience at a slam when they talked to me after when my silence met theirs when this poet demanded a name of me ..when my stomach was nothing but a mess of fear and obligation my silence took my hand and squeezed it gently as if to say you owe them nothing; I am here if you need me to speak only if you want to; so to you quiet child who have kept everything just inside your mouth for whatever reason, I see you even when you say nothing I believe you; I believe that you are scared I believe that it hurts I believe that it happened I believe that you loved them I believe that you didn't I believe that you still do I believe that you are confused about forgiveness and justice......Believe me quiet child you are doing nothing wrong there is no right or wrong here there is only your choice; you speak when you are ready. I promise your silence has not set a caged beast free You did not release a monster you SURVIVED one trust me quiet child I know of a girl before me I do not blame her. I do not blame her my Silence hears this poem looks at me teary eyed and says, I say that I am sorry I hated you I always thought you were the weakest part of me; the part that needed the most forgiveness but no you are the first one who never asked me to prove anything, the only one who believed me before I spoke and after and now when my silence takes my hand.....I squeeze back, I say I know.  I say Thank You and I mean it. 

My books

These books, My Books  are my world. They are everything that is inside that is dark and scary and ugly.  They are all the things that I don't have words for that are to ugly to even come out of my mouth.  I wish sometimes that I could explain all that they hold.  It's the darkness the things that I see from the outside. Those books are my deep dark soul that is more than damaged and feels more than unlovable.These books are the things that no one has ever asked about, no one has even cared to find out about.  These books are everything, they are all the things that I want to be acknowledged and to mean something.  I want these books to be a look into all the things that are unseen all the things that I have survived.  People wonder why I am the way that I am, why I I watch everything and am cautious. These books have helped me survive and given my mind a place to express the horror that is inside.  These books mean more than I can even understand myself sometimes. It takes so much to share them and yet I hare because I do not want to carry all that is in them myself.  The things that they hold ; literally hold me hostage and are heavier than I can bare.  I feel lately that their weight is increasing and the toll that that takes is something that I can't explain. I feel those things that are in books in my bones still to this day.  I wake up with nightmares and feel frozen.  I wake up and my arms are cold and my legs are asleep.  I wake up and my hips are more than achy even after all this time.  I can't hold these things to myself anymore.  I can not carry the weight on my own because I can't and I won'r anymore.  I still feel like so much of those books is my burden to carry because of the choices that I made, wearing his shirt , dancing,  wanting to be a part of the crowd, wanting to belong, those things always got me into a place that I never wanted to be. I feel often like I am still living in the nightmare, and I don't want to live like that anymore.    I smile and I laugh and still smile some more but my heart is broken and its time to share, heal and maybe even let some of those things go that are not mine to carry.  I want all the things that have happened to me to mean something to be important to be big enough for someone to help me through them.   Nothing that ever happened to me was big was hard enough, was scary enough for anyone to step up to the plate and today I think that I have someone who will do that. Who will listen and hear as long as it takes as many times as it takes and that is terrifying and amazing.  I don't have the words for the gratefulness in my heart because 44 long lonely years is more than enough. I am tired, my heart is exhausted and my mind and body are so tired of fighting all the time.  This is more than hard and its going to take a lot out of me, I am sure that in the end when I can dance and not be scared, when I can love and not be afraid when I can openly share and not feel ashamed then it will all be worth it.  Oh, this is incredibly hard and my heart aches,  I don't want to live in this hellish place I want pure joy, pure happiness and I will do anything to make sure that I find it.  A dear man , has said: he is here. And not going anywhere.  If there could only be an explanation for what those words mean to someone like me. He  Has said that the words that come to his mind are courageous,  gritty.
"The other words that come to mind when I think about you are: Resourceful; Determined; Resilient. I would also add Kind to that list."

 These are the words that I need in my mind heart and soul. 
 Those words to describe someone like me,  they feel so foreign, undeserved and yet those are the things that I want to believe, those are the things that I will fight to believe and find the happily ever after place that I long for.

I heart your heart.

Only if your affected

Wow sometimes I am amazed at the things that come out of People's mouths. People that are close, people that know some of the things that I have dealt with and still don't get it. People that are insensitive to any issue that doesn't affect them.  All these things have literally broken my heart tonight and I am more than alone.

I am not sure that I have the right words or if I can even put what went on into words.....it all started with a single question and the night began to spiral. I can't breather there is an elephant on my chest and I want to crawl in a hole.  How does one person deal with all of this.

We were watching the news and they were talking about the new abortion bill; that even in cases of rape and incest it was illegal.  Those things come on the news and I try to keep moving half listening but mostly not. I wait for them to be over and go on with whatever it is that I am doing.   One of those things that kits too close to home.  Well tonight when it came on Vincent asked my mom what she thought.  And again I was half listening, but I heard enough.  She said well it didn't matter, that it was still wrong and that there were other options.  I heard a lot of Blah Blah Blah and no caring no concern, Vincent said something to her and how not right that it was and she kept saying well there are other options and she can have the baby, she can give them up for adoption.  Vincent said but what about that meaning Rape and she said well the morning after pill is ok........

There were so many thoughts running through my head........She has no idea just how broken that I am. Ho hurt that my heart is and how much that I have had to do completely on my own.

Another thing that I can not share , that I live with on my own. I suffer in silence, and hold it ever so close to my heart. It's to much and too heavy for others to know.

She has no idea how hard that this situation is  or how close that this is to my heart and is so much a part of who I am and who my children are.  I have never used the word Rape with my children. When I told them I just said that Charles didn't listen.....Do they put that word on what happened ?  A question for sometime.....I am more than sorry that is something that they even have to contemplate in their life.

On the issue I don't know.....I do not believe in Abortion, I could never harm an innocent little one but I also understand that in cases of rape and incest there are many emotions, feelings and situations that no one can understand unless you have walked in their shoes. I know that for me what I did, the choice that I made was the right one for me.  And I have said it a thousand times,  if I had to do it over again I would to have my children; but that doesn't make what happened to me any less awful, it doesn't make it ok, or make it hurt any less.  I hate what happened to me and how I got pregnant and everything that went with it, the black, the going away, the pillow on my face, him commenting on his beautiful BMW as he left.  I closed the door and went to my bed and cried until there were no more tears.  I was once again left with nothing and 2 weeks later, Yes I am pregnant.  All that mattered was those sweet children and they meant the world to me.  They were my world and I was going to give them all that I never had.  I knew what happened to me, but that didn't matter because those two precious babies were meant to be mine. 

The spiral of the evening left me with a panic attack.  Questions from my children, the nonchalance of my mother.  My own heart and what its been through and the things that I have had to live though.  There is so much and I a, so alone in this.  What does a mom do who was raped and has children ?  I try to think it doesn't matter but there are ties that it does there are times I worry about Vincent being a good guy.  So many pieces.  Once again I am more than sorry that this is something my children have to know and deal with sometimes I do believe it would be easier for them to think I was just a slut, and got pregnant.  That just isn't the case.  There is me the damaged one in the middle.  There are my two beautiful children on one side and the awful terrible rape on the other how do I make sense of that.  How do I not blame myself and  lessen the impact on my sweet beautiful children.  There are no answers and no manual for this.   I am more than sorry for my children, once again I wish I coud make it easier for them.  And for me I would do it all again to have them as mine.  That is so hard, that is scary and heavy.  Yet another thing to carry and try to heal on my own.

I heart your heart. 

Little Callahan

 Yea so many things and I am no sure where I start.  Once again I feel like I have been in this place before and beat myself up that I find myself  here in a place that I know all too well.  I am grateful that I have Mark and feel like he is listening and I am more than grateful.  The timing could not have been better. It seems like I am fine; I am fine; I am fine; and then BAM comes the brick wall.  I feel I have hit hard and I once again want to scream at the world until I feel better. Until I feel safe until I feel a little more peace in my heart.  I feel like I am running all the time trying to do it all and there isn't much left.  And there is no-one there checking to make sure that I am ok ! I think that is the rough spot.  I am pretty much on my own and that is more than heavy.  People aren't around and I won't pretend to be someone that I am not just to fit in somewhere.  So that leaves me smiling and doing things on my own.  In counseling there is a lot, and its really really hard.  There are so many things that still so hurt my heart.  I would think that I would be done by now, that I would feel whole that I wouldn't feel that awful terrible inside.  I still see the world through all the things that I have been through.  And I fight the good fight trying to be better and sometimes the past still wins.  I feel like right now, its winning.  My heart is heavy and things are happening that I am not sure what to feel .  I am not sure how to take care of myself and do all the things that I need to do.

Mark has said that he thinks little Callahan is closer than I think that is a good thing and also terrifying.  She is at least in the building in the same room.  She is still not a favorite,  but I can't  hate her.  I am just more than sorry and want so much to change things make them better. I am more than sorry for the things that she has lives through for the things that she has to carry and I want to not feel so much less than everyone else all the time.  That feeling of being less than is more than huge and I know the right things in my head .  I know all the it's not m fault, I didn't do anything wrong. I KNOW all those things in my head but my heart ..........yea, that is a different story.  I feel that if I let her in less her close enough to take care of I will shatter and there won't be anything left. 

I think how I see her changes I would like to think of her in this safe happy place and no one can ever hurt her again.  A place that is safe, that is bright that has all the things that A little girl could ever want,  yet she is alone and even though she might smile she is always afraid.  Always in fear of being hurt one more time,  and that being the finally straw and there is an inner knowing that she just couldn't take it,  she wouldn't make it her mind would leave and never come back.  That is the fear, so she is alone and isolated and trying to smile through all the awful terrible things that have been done to her , that she somehow has lives through.  And then I sometimes see her cowering in the corner,  with monsters hovering and she sees nothing but the things that have been done and feels like this is her life.  I know that she is me and , she is a part of me she is that little girl that was hurt so much but its easier and harder all at the same time to have her close and not keep her at a distance.  I feel like I keep her at arm's length more like many arms because I fear what it will be like when she is right in front of me and I can't push her away.  I feel like for me I see the pictures in pieces and parts and its not all connected.  I feel like she is all connected most of the time and that terrifies me.  I wake up with the nightmares and the bruises and I feel things that happened in my bones and its often scattered and indescribable.  I really think that little Callahan is more aware and feels more than I have ever imagined.  I know the weight of what I carry and am more than afraid to take on her feelings, emotions and experience.  I feel like she has the words that I don't have.  She has the experiences that I see in detail playing all the time.  I feel more than crazy, how does a person life normal ?  How does a person live a happy fulfilled life knowing all the things that have happened and how different that I see the world around me.  There are things about me that have been changes forever and I don't know any other way.  Can I see things different, Do I see some things different yes but those tapes play and they are horrendous and I don't know how to make that a worthy part of who I am.  I fight being worthy with all those things being pictures what happens when I connect with Callahan and feel her weight that she carries.   It feels very big and very heavy and I always wonder if I am strong enough for her. What if I am not ?

I heart your heart.