Standing Dead

 

I am fighting so hard right now and I am not winning.  It is that hard enveloping kind of sad that fills every crack and crevice.  I spend so much time fighting clawing my way back , but it feels like I am in a free fall through an unknown black hole.  I am terrified that I will never find my footing.  Exhaustion is settling in as my body absorbs every picture and memory that my mind chooses to replay.  Every breathe is a reminder of how close that I have come to dying, and the moments that I wished one of them would have just finished me off.  The more that I fight , it seems the stronger their grip. 

What the mask does to me.

 

As always I live life feeling like there is something terribly wrong with me.  I feel like there is always something wrong, some memory that hurts my soul; So I should just smile and keep pretending that I am fine.  That deep dark sadness is back and its fierce.  I hope that someday soon it will lessen , I feel like I can't keep being sad over the things that I can't change.  The weight of the things that I have survived is so suffocating.  I work so hard to be a normal, unaffected person. Yes, terrible things have happened , but shit Callahan pull up your boot straps already and move on.  The weight of all that I have survived is a kind of internal suffocation that is a thief stealing whatever it wants, whenever it wants.  There are so many reminders, triggers and flashbacks being back at school.  And I literally feel like i ma drowning.  I had an ARD on Friday and I literally was amazed at myself.  I was somewhere else in the room, waiting for my principle to tell me all that I had done wrong but  I was calm and focused ; aware of my words and I think it went well.  I was in the room alone, with my mask off and yet felt every thread across my face. 

Wearing a mask every day is such a heavy burden EVEN when I take it off. All the thoughts, emotions and memories are still there all vying for attention. I am Wanting to be calmed,  I want them to be different. Wanting them to be some kind of nightmare that I can wake up from, take a deep breathe and know all is well with the world. So many terrible memories, sensations and feelings all coming at me. 

Whether it was that suffocating feeling as my father would straddle my neck on the waterbed.  Or the many pairs of hands that would cover my mouth trying to quiet the screams, or whimpers.  Their breathe on my face, that closeness as they hurt me is something so personal and close that there is nothing more that I want than to run a million miles away and find some place in the world where my face is gently held and cared for for.  A person's face is so personal so close,  I don't know there is some kind of personal barrier when a person's face is involved.  I am not sure that I even have the words to explain it.  Like with just a rape there is space and distance somehow but my face , that is a trauma that is more personal for me and terrifying.  Wearing a mask is all these things on repeat, while trying to be a normal functioning adult.  All the times that men were on top of me taking what wasn't theirs.  That closeness to my face, feeling each breathe waiting for them to be done with my little lifeless body.  So am I sad, oh yes because every second takes me back to the things I am trying so hard to forget and move on from. 

My heart hurts. 

I heart your heart.  I will make it somehow, I am not sure how but I know that I will. 

How I hold your heart

I am always so careful.I watch my words and my actions. I listen to the words and remember the important things. Things that are hard, that hurt your heart.  I remember those friends that have lost parents, I remember those friends when they are grieving.  I remember the days that your mom died and I remember the day that she lost her baby I remember those things and I offer support, I offer love. I offer, whatever it is that the person might need.  Those little things are important.  I remember bringing you ice cream, and sitting with those in the waiting room.  I make dinner on those hard anniversaries and offer my ear if you need to talk.  I send those messages , letting you know that I see you and I am here.   Those little things make a person feel seen and heard and valued.  I will travel far and help you unpack your house.  I will remember those important days, I will send cards and drop off friend presents.  I do those things because its important because I never want someone day that matters to them go unnoticed.  I do those things so that others know, I remember and I am here. 

There is also a sad in doing this for others.  In doing this it touches a part of my heart that has always been forgotten. My days are never remembered. My days are never acknowledged.  Most days I am not seen and heard, and there is an understanding that some things just are not meant to be for me.  There are a few times I was remembered and those things mean the world, I was so very grateful.  There was that Aug 22 when two women took the kids and I to the Zoo.  It meant everything , then they disappeared.  Recently, there was a blog post about  my anniversaries and how hard they are and the support that I received from the people that I work with was unbelievably amazing.  I felt loved. People went out of their way to let me know they cared.  Those people are my people, we make each other laugh and its ok when we cry.  Yes, that.  That is where healing happens.

I will always care for others hearts, that is what I do, that it what needs to be done. I love the thought that I can be that person to hold your heart and be there during a rough time. I want to be that thought that wow she remembered.  I will forever be that person.  Someday,  someday there will be a person that remembers my hard days and holds my heart and holds me when I cry and laughs with me.  A person that can understand that the acknowledgement of those days is more healing than a person could ever imagine. 

I heart your heart. 

Normal things

This is more than difficult. Normal life things are not for me.  I am an outlier, I am different, I am something other than.  I am not saying that I have it worse off; I am not saying that I am better or worse.  I am saying that I don't fit in.  I am saying that the lenses that I see the world through are tainted by unimaginable fear and disgust. I fear wanting normal things, because normal things get me hurt; normal things get things taken away from me that I don't want to give. Wanting ,needing, craving normal life things gets me hurt every time. Like wearing my fathers shirt, listening to music, dancing with a boy,  dare I say even a date, a kiss. All I have ever wanted was to feel that I mattered, that I meant something that I was wanted.  Wanting normal life things is dangerous, for those kind of things have led to a hurt that is so deep and so intense it is hard to see to the other side.  Connection is dangerous, wanting to belong wanting to be loved, liked and included has left me bruised and battered.  My need for wanting a piece of normal in my life has left me with a deepest sadness and a sense of terminal loneliness.  

People say reach out, ask for what you need.  I have done that and my heart has gotten torn to shreds.  I have been on the receiving end of the worst words , the worst jokes, and still I kept going .  I have had others laugh in my face at my fears ;laugh at the things that make me ME.  I have gone through this life mostly alone.  Not totally alone, at times I have had people, but the second that Callahan starts asking the hard questions, asking for honesty and loyalty and understanding; people simply vanish.  When I no longer serve their need I am left out in the cold.  No explanation, no words just a silence that is deafening.  Each and every time I am crushed and convince myself that I am meant to be alone.  Until that aloneness becomes unbearable and again I put my heart on the line.  And each time I say, I will never ever be hurt like that again; yet I do.  But the need to belong, to feel that I am worth something wins and I reach out open arms wanting the world.  There are people that have stayed, there are people that are forever, its just that those people are far away.  With my crazy life I need those kind of people in my everyday.   

I have a list of the moments when I just wanted to be included, be special, be a part of something and 9 times out of 10 I was made to feel like I had done something terribly wrong.  I was made to feel like i was less than for wanting what they had.  I was made to feel like I was not worth anyone's time attention or energy. Most often the feeling that I had was that I was simply a bother or a pest, I was just someone that got in the way.  I have had that feeling for as long as i can remember. I very rarely felt that sense of belonging, like I could just be. 

Growing up there was the feeling that boys were more important, they were to be valued.  Girls were a threat, there was a sense of competition growing up that I wanted nothing to do with.  I spent my entire younger years trying to keep everyone safe and yet was left alone to fend for myself among monsters of men.  I was never noticed, never heard.  I never felt that I was important just because of who I was; who I was, was never OK. I never had value for the mere reason that I was a living breathing little girl, that just wanted to be loved, that was something for others.  I never had any value other than making sure that I did what I was told, and cleaned up the mess.   My job was a Secret keeper, make everyone happy no matter the cost.

 As far back as I can remember there was no normal for me.  I was always so needy and such a burden, that was my forever feeling. That was a constant needing so much, and always coming up short having to take care of myself.  I do not remember a time not feeling like a burden, I knew that my world was too heavy to share.  So I was quiet and carried my burdens well, because there was no other way. Even in kinder when everyone was dancing and having fun I was judging the surroundings not wanting to bring attention to myself, fearing that I would do the wrong thing.  That was so early, I never liked being a little girl, I never liked being in my own skin. I never loved little painted toes, I never loved looking pretty, I never was comfortable being me.  Being in my skin was painful.  There was no kindness no gentleness.  When there was gentle it led to violence and I went away.   I never had many friends besides the imaginary little boy who lived by the fence. I can remember a few friends, people that I took care of. I remember Candy, she had terrible teeth and a laugh that I will never forget. She needed a coat, it was so cold so I made sure she got one.  There was Angela whose parents were going through a divorce, I would make her laugh and tell her it was going to be OK. She was skinny skinny , I was not and it didn't matter.  I would find those that  needed a friend but even they left.  Maybe they moved away maybe we grew apart either way, I felt I did something , because just like that I was forgotten.  As an adult the same thing.  There were a few times I was comfortable thought that I had a place thought that I fit in, but then sides are chosen, I am left out. No longer called, no longer included and my heart gets crushed.  Conversations had behind my back, and just like that Callahan is out.  For so long I tried to stay connected, I tried to reach out be that friend, be that listening ear. I always went so out of my way for them , but there was no thank you or anything.  I was the one who watched the kids as they all went to listen to a friend sing, I was that girl.  I don't believe like they do I believe in kindness and being a good person they believe in God and if you don't then you are not welcomed.  It's all so many experiences like that.I do believe there were moments of value, but they were fleeting, as long as I followed the crowd, we were good.  The second I found my voice, they forgot.  They say if they do that then they are not your friends to begin with.  That may be true but it sure doesn't make the pain any easier to take.   

There are people on my team that I love, that I belong with and I am grateful. Oh my sweet friend Meri, she is a lifesaver.  A person in my life that can ask who I am and I can tell her my butt hurts and we laugh!   She gets me, and I am grateful. I need more of that. I need more people like that, that fill my soul and can enjoy my crazy, can hear my sad and love me because I am just me.  

The normal thing that I want : 

I want to be included, to be heard. To be respected and my views taken seriously. I want to be loved, for who I am not because of what I can do for you.  I need my fears heard and for them to be ok, its just a part of who I am.  I want understanding.  I want comfort.  I want lots and lots of laughing. I want to know that I matter, that I am not replaceable.  Someday I want to find love.  I want to be the most important person to someone that would give me the world if they could.  I want to be someones first choice.  I want to someone to care for this heart all the time even when I am sure that I am not so lovable. I want someone to smile when I say save the whales and know that it comes from the deepest part of my soul.  I want someone who can understand the tears, and hug me a little longer until I feel like everything is ok.  I want to laugh hard, and love harder. I want someone that wants to understand the things I am most passionate about.  I want to feel like I matter when I can give you nothing in return.  I want others to reach out, ask me who I am.  I want others to ask hard questions and be ok with the hard answers back.  I want kindness, because I have not had near enough in this lifetime.  I want all of these things even on the days when I want to crawl in a hole. I want all of these things, maybe someday I will feel them.  I can hear the words, that I matter, that I am valued and that is so hard. So many years of unkindness that I don't understand.  I will never understand how I have not been valued, how I have been blown to the trees, all the while reaching back.  I am learning to reach forward, learning to believe in the good things today even as loud as the old voices are. I think the challenge lies in never hearing the good voices, before the bad.  The bad voices, messages were all I ever heard in my little life.  I was useless, unworthy, pesky and I got in the way. 

Someday I will believe I have value, someday I will believe that I am enough just as the person that I am. 

Someday. Someday. Someday. Someday. 

I heart your heart. 

My day

 Its Thursday and Saturday already feels heavy. One of those anniversaries that bites you in the ass. I get angry at myself because I don't understand. I have the biggest blessings I have the two most awesome kids who are turning into amazing people what right do I have to have a heavy heart? And that is the biggest struggle because I would do it again to have them. But the sadness for me is unbearable. On this day I want things to stop I want the world to acknowledge the heaviness and celebrate in the joy. There was ME, I just wanted to be normal. I was blessed with them, who make my life all worth it. And there is us, the family that we have that we are trying to conquer and understand the world one day at a time.

I keep coming back to the fact that I just wanted normal that day. I wanted to have lunch laugh, and just be.  I wanted to be pretty, do my hair, smell good. I just wanted to be excited and have someone be nice .  I wanted to feel like I mattered, that someone even wanted to have lunch with me.    I just wanted to be normal do normal things, feel normal act normal just be a normal person for one little afternoon.  But wanting that so badly, got me hurt. Wanting normal has always gotten me hurt. Forever and ever the things that I longer for being normal were things that were not seen as normal, were not seen as important and that is hard to wrap my head around even today.  In my head wanting normal isn't ok because that fear of being hurt that fear that someone will tale what isn't theirs is huge and I am more than scared.  

 

My track record of making it through hard days is 100% and today was no different. Today was rough a few tears but I made it. Another August 22. I don't believe in fairy tales any more but I believe I have found what works for me. I could not be any more grateful for my children. Started the day with tears, then Vincent showing me his game. Ended the day the three of us laughing in the kitchen and Mariska and I laughing as she crawled into bed with the dogs and I. The unimaginable and the blessing all in one day. And I found a response from a few years ago from someone close to my heart that says it all : You've come a long way Callahan. <3

"Sherri not many people have the capacity for such sadness and joy simultaneously, never mind the ability to stand in their integrity and feel both so intensely. You are one of the strongest women I have ever met. You are not your past - you are what you have made of life in spite of it. You and your beautiful children are such blessings to each other. I admire you, dear lady ;) "

I think its a sad frustration

 

I don't know what is wrong with me but I am going to write and try to figure it out.  My heart is sad and heavy. I want to hide in a little corner with my music and my art journals and somehow figure this out.  Such a heaviness deep inside. I feel like I should happy and grateful and all I can find is that achy sadness that makes you want to cry. I literally feel like sadness from the movie inside out.  There are good things around me, everyone is healthy, the kids have everything they need but I need something.  I am in this place with long hallways with oh so many doors, and I am overwhelmed.  I don't want to be in my own skin, if feels like I don't belong there.  I get achy and things hurt for no reason at all. The nightmares don't seem so bad, I think because there are enough memories when my eyes are open , that the exhaustion takes over.  Maybe its the Saturday coming up, its enormous and it feels like I can see the wave coming in and there is no safety to be had.  I need there to be some recognition, some something  that I don't even have a name for.  I need a rule book for navigating where I am ;only that hasn't been written .  Like it literally hurts being in my own skin right now. My skin feels like glass, and at any second I might totally fall apart. Every little thing makes me cringe, and at the same time I need that hug to help all the broken pieces go back together.  I want to find a door where there are answers where there is a break, some respite from the sad. For once  I want to know that I am loved and valued and cared for.  I want to find that door where I am worthy even on the days when I feel like this.  A place where there is comfort and understanding.  A place where there are art magazines everywhere to find that picture that matches these deep intense feelings. A picture for the words that I don't have , a picture to tell you how much my insides hurt.  The loneliness is deafening, because these are not things a person can share.  I can not speak the words on Saturday. I can share how I am feeling or what I need.  I will write and ever so quietly, hide the tears. And there is the guilt that it was 17 years ago.  Too long ago to still feel like it was yesterday.  Too long ago for that orange pillow to trigger the blackness. Yet, so many feelings to understand.  I am so alone in this and I am not sure that I know how to even let anyone in.

I heart your heart

Ablaze

 It is August and I feel the day coming. It feels heavy and looming and I need reassurance that I am not dragging this out, dwelling on it.   Vincent and Mariska started their junior year and there is excitement and a bit of sad that they are so growing up.  August 22; The day that was everything awful but gave me everything wonderful. I heard this song Ablaze and I cry. A conflict in the fabric of life, yes, so much that. This was not how things were supposed to be.   I hope that my children know that hell or high water I am always there for them.  They are the light of life, the ones that keep me going the ones that make me even want to be on this earth. To deal with the sadness to deal with all the hurt and the pain. For me I am trying to focus on the things that make me strong, on the ones who make every breath I take bearable.  In so many ways before them I was slowly withering away.  I didn't care, nothing mattered. Then there was them and I came alive again.  They were literally all that mattered,  and life was manageable, life had a purpose.  I was going to be their mom and that was the only thing that mattered. I feel like this is a day in my life that needs to be honored for everything that it was. The assault  itself. The fear and heartbreak. The sadness, and even the place that I went , that blackness beyond any words that I might have. Then also for my pregnancy that I carried to 38 weeks and had two healthy amazing babies; 5'9 and 6"4 , that came home with me two days later. All of those things need to be honored and respected . Each and every one of those things needs time and space to heal. I am left wondering if there is enough time and space in the world for the peace I am searching for.  I am in a place that I never imagined and so much farther than I ever thought that I would be and yet I still long for better.  I know my children have had things better then I ever had. I hope that their children will have things even better than them.   I wish for a partner, I wish for grandchildren and family get together's and happy careers and everything that fairy tales are made of.  

The assault has always been something that I have made small, that I have glossed over.  I mean he wasn't mean, he wasn't brutal like some have been in the past, he just didn't listen. Right?   Even writing I see every moment and I was so confused I literally didn't understand. I was so excited I was going to be normal go out to lunch help him shop , that is all I ever wanted.  I took my shower got ready, I was so happy, I can still remember that feeling that I was going to do something normal like everyone else. I remember him showing up late, he smelled of cologne and cigarettes.  I wish I remembered how we managed to end up in my room. I know that I pointed out the mobile in my doorway, it was supposed to keep evil doers away. Guess that didn't work did it?!?  And we kind of laughed.  He was huge , very broad shoulders, he was 6'4 and way taller than me and his muscles on his arms were huge.  We are supposed to go shopping, I said it over and over. I can remember laughing a little like what are you doing.   I didn't understand and having sex with him was the furthest thing from my mind.  My mind was racing and I kept repeating myself but no we are supposed to go shopping, over and over until no words came out anymore because I knew that it didn't matter. I remember him rolling on his sun glasses and breaking them.  And it was like he didn't even care, he was like oh well and didn't miss a beat.  And things get blurry,  I know I repeated myself over and over until there were no words, and there was a second when I realized he had no intentions of ever taking me to lunch or shopping.  I remember him on top of me, my mind totally confused a part of me wanting to fight but that other part that said this is what happens to you.  I feel like there are pieces I don't have, and the next thing I knew that orange pillow fell on my face, and I was gone.  I was in that blackness far away where there is no pain, no light, no hurt, its just nothing.  I stayed there until he as done. The next thing that I remember he climbed off was putting his pants on.  I can remember staring at his feet as he put his sandals on, I hate feet , and is were ugly. My mind in shock, I didn't have a clue what to do.  I remember walking him to the door and he made some comment about how shiny his beautiful BMW was, and just like that left. I closed and locked the door and went to my bed and cried until I don't remember anything else. A conflict in the fabric of life.  Life isn't supposed to be made with someone taking what wasn't given. 

Two weeks later, right away the morning sickness.  I felt so awful. It was someone at work that said you are so pregnant.  That wasn't even a thought. And my mind went to Charles.  There was panic and fear . History repeating itself, what was I going to do. I thought awful things about myself and how I let this happen. I had thoughts about what a fucking slut that I was, how did I let this happen.  I blamed myself for wanting to have normal things, had I not learned anything that normal life things are /were never meant for me.  I took a test and it was positive. No 2 minute wait , right away two lines. My mom was away, and thought I had the flu.  I can remember laying on the floor with my only friend, my dog Rizzo and crying and crying, I had no idea what was next, reality has not set in.  I can remember him putting his face on my arm and I petted his head and I kept asking what in the world I was going to do. That was the only time that I cried, those hard sad tears for me, for what was taken.  That was the only time i felt the weight that there were two little lives growing in my womb and counting on me.  So Dr appointments are made.  Mean words are spoken and I no longer thought about what happened to me everything became about my babies and making sure that they were safe and sound. I never spoke a word about what was done to me, they were all that mattered.  I locked it away for long time, never speaking a word about what happened to me.  James was the first person who even gave it words.  I remember so clear, Did he rape you ? And the tears and excuses and the harsh words for myself.  My thoughts couldn't get away from "Did he rape you", because in my head I was the slut that somehow asked for it,  because I wanted so badly just to be normal and do normal things. I thought Charles was my ticket for normal. He was not. 

  I can remember my first Dr appointment and he started asking about the father.  Me not even thinking thought he was talking about my father.  Like it took me a few questions,  and then oh I don't know.  I don't have that information that you want.  I think the harder that I tried to ignore, the more it came up.  I can remember being at health and human services and the woman threw a pen at me because I didn't have any information.  Thy wanted to go after child support.  I wanted to keep my babies safe and sound. And each 6 month when it comes times to renew food stamps I have to once again tell them that I didn't know the father and don't have the information that they wanted and my heart would sink, because it so wasn't the fairy tale but they made me feel useless and worthless and everything in between.  Every 6 months I dreaded that call and being treated like a whore.  They treated me like i did this on purpose and was a burden to all.  That feeling was heart wrenching. Then I would see those sweet smiles, those little feet and those coos and it was all worth it, this was all for them.  

I have had people say the most awful things as they were a little older.  Like I should have kept my legs shut, by some pastor at a church.  It was told to my mother and why would she tell me, did she mean to put another crack in my already fragile heart?  Like I made my bed now I had to lie in it, from a counselor when I was overwhelmed with caring for them and school and my mom.  Those things are still etched in my heart.  I am sure there are parts and pieces that believe them.  Their words just reinforcing the things I have told myself since he walked out the door admiring his red BMW. 

In just a short 6 days, the day my life changed will be here once again.

17 years ago 6,210 days ago I was raped and I got pregnant with my twins. 

 

Its time to stop feeling so ashamed, worthless and so less than because of his choices . That was his choice, to not listen to me. 

My choice was to be a mom and give them all the things that I never had. The best decision I have ever made in this world. 

The two most important people in my world, that I would do anything for.  The two that make life worth everything.  Today my heart aches.  I wanted everything perfect.  Someday I hope that we talk openly and we can share and I can help you understand.  I hope you always know how loved you have always been. 

 I heart your heart. 

Alanis Morissette Ablaze.  For my Children this is for you. I hope someday you can understand my heart. You could not be more loved.