Twenty years ago this day, Breaking Benjamin released this song with the birth of its mother album, “Phobia“. Since then, I’ve pondered the meaning of this literal masterpiece, but finally settled upon it being an interpretation of what it’s like living with a mental illness in the wake of trauma of any kind. In my case, specifically, I’ve likened it to the battlefield of my father’s psychologically abusive warfare and the eggshells our family did then and still are forced to tiptoe around on a daily basis. So, yeah, the scene at this family dinner table pretty much sums up the entirety of my childhood. With that, I would now like to offer up this ‘lil nuggie on behalf of every “unknown soldier” out there like me and my daughter who through no choice of their own was forced to step into the ring with their own effing parents and lived to tell about it:

Hey! YOU! All you ‘lil wreaking ball “parents” out there with “dinner tables” like this who think their kids AREN’T gonna either:

(a) End up in lifelong therapy;

(b) End up with a rip-roaring mental illness;

(c) End up hating and making cryptic posts like this about you;

(d) End up completely SEVERING you from their lives; or

(e) ALL OF THE ABOVE!

DO BETTER, YA JEAN-CLAUDE VAN DAMN EFFING JACKWAD! If, however, you either can’t do better or simply refuse to even try because it makes you feel like a much more powerful human being thing than you actually are, then don’t you DARE ever let any of us Unknown Soldiers out here catch you crying yer “Oh, poor me! Nobody loves me … not even my own kids!” effing eyes out! It was never ANY of our responsibilities to become the living bandages to soak up the blood you’ve let from the cuts you never healed from. Capiche? K, bye now!

Well, folks, it’s “Men’s Health Day” once again. Oh, how I love it and hate it at the same time, especially inasmuch that on a day like this, all I can think about is the mental warfare that must have been happening in my husband’s fucked up beyond recognition broken mind in the very last moments before he ended his own life. The conversation he must have been having with both God and the devil who’d taken up residency in his body may very well sounded something like this:

Tellin’ myself it’s the last time. Can you spare any mercy that you might find if I’m down on my knees again? Deep down, way down, Lord, I try to follow Your Light, but it’s nighttime, Please, don’t leave me in the end. Oh, there’s darkness in the distance … I’m begging for forgiveness. Oh, but I know I might resist it! Oh, I love it and I hate it at the same time. You and I drink the poison from the same vine. Oh, I love it and I hate it at the same time … hidin’ all of our sins from the daylight. From the daylight … runnin’ from the daylight.

Truth being told, though he was, indeed, the consummate “incel, loner, weirdo man” whom the good Dr. Peterson spoke of above when I found him, in my heart of hearts I know that I did everything in my power to build him up into the magical Superman that he became during our season together despite his “mommy issues“.

And so, with that, please let me implore you all once again that although a man’s mental health journey begins in the womb, we should protect that journey in their homes, as well:

In being honest, I’ve been on both sides of the “how to treat your man” coin, and admittedly and ashamedly have not always offered “king treatment” to the men who were in my halo. Although I always strive to live with no regrets, I’d be lying if I said that I don’t often look back at the many ways I failed as a queen, failed to “build him up”, actively “broke him down“, and was another war he faced when he stepped over the threshold of our home. By the way, in case you didn’t know this already, today is “Men’s Mental Health Awareness Day“. If there is a man in your life, be it a husband, son, brother, or even just a friend, please remember not to forget that “men have feelings, too“.

(“The Crowning“)

If you have a man of any age living in your home today, please remember that, yes, they do have feelings, too. Treat them kindly, give credit when it’s due, and for God’s actual sake, be impeccable with all your words. Whether you want to believe it or not, it’s a pretty tough gig out there for those amongst us born with a penis. Sorry, NOT sorry to be so frank. Bye everyone, it’s me, Cat.

Hi everyone! It’s me, REAL Cat, and it looks like I’m effing KILLING this whole “being myself” dealio! I literally AM an entire shit show magnanimous proportion, and I wouldn’t have me any other way! K, bye now! Oh, and HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MR. EMERSON! Here’s hoping you’d be proud of my EPIC life accomplishment!

Besides, nothing I’ve ever been, done, or given for them has been a sacrifice. Being their mother is what I was created to be, and I don’t need a Macy’s Day Parade thrown in my honor to feel honored! Guess what, folks? I have, can, and will continue to bestow that seemingly elusive recognition upon myself like only a true queen can by continuing to walk in my “Power + Grace”! It’s who I am and what I was built for!

(“Apples & Martyrs“)

… and so, with that I lovingly remind all you unsung heroes and “unseen” mommas out there, perhaps even “alone” on this Mother’s Day 2027:

Yes! Yes, you CAN! You CAN “see yourself” for all the things big and small that you’ve been, done, given, and sacrificed for the sake of not just your babies, but so many others along the way. Sing your own praises today and ALWAYS! Regardless of whether anyone else ever noticed, acknowledged, or celebrated you as the true GIFT to humanity you are, bask in the light that adorns your head like a halo atop one of THE most powerful forces on Earth. Not only do all the rest of your sisters “In The Hood” (seen and unseen …. heard and unheard … known and unknown) know the truth of who you are and what you’ve given to all those who were in your care, up to and including any children you’ve mothered who weren’t even from your womb, but your God “sees” you, too. One sweet day we’ll all walk arm in arm as we finally get to meet Him and lay our beautiful tiaras at His feet. “Well done!”, He’ll say … mistakes included.

Happy Easter, everyone! HE IS RISEN! Meanwhile, never forget that it’s wasn’t just the nails:

He received 39 stripes because 40 was known to kill a man. They wanted him alive! They held handfuls of his beard, and hair and pulled it out by the roots. They wanted him alive! They kicked, punched, and spit on him for hours until there wasn’t a single spot on his body not covered in blood. They wanted him alive! They shoved a crown of thorns down on his head so harshly it stuck in his skin and skull. They wanted him alive! After hours of being beaten, mocked, whipped, flogged, and tortured, they made Him walk with a cross. They made Him carry it. A rough piece of wood with splinters digging into fresh wounds. They wanted him alive! They wanted Him to feel every ounce of pain they could bring. He HAD to feel it in order to heal us. Crucifixion was historically one of the cruelest most tortured deaths a human could face … hours upon hours of torture … torture most of us can not mentally think of because that kind of cruelty just isn’t normal and isn’t something our minds can comprehend. We celebrate Easter with pastel colors, happy children hunting eggs, and chocolate bunnies. The truth is that there was absolutely nothing happy about the day Jesus died. It was cruel, bloody, and nasty. He could have stopped all of it. He could have called every angel in Heaven to demolish every person standing and shouting “Crucify Him!” He didn’t. He knew that in order to have a Sunday, you have to have a Friday. He knew that in order to have joy, you have to carry your cross. He felt everything that day. He felt how your heart broke wide open when you had to watch your baby die. He felt how heavy your life was when you were staring down the barrel of a gun wondering if the man you call husband was going to shoot you. He carried the weight of the burden you have felt since your spouse died and life just doesn’t seem right anymore. On that cross, he held the rapists, murderers, sinners, and saints, leveling every playing field, and saying, “ALL of you are worth it!” He knew He had to carry the cross, but He never promised that the cross you’d have to carry in this life would not be heavy. HIS WASN’T! His promise is that Sunday is coming. No matter how heavy your Friday was today, be it financially, emotionally, mentally, or physically, such that the burden of that cross you bore all but crumbled and leveled you under its weight, His promise was simply this: He will never make you carry it alone. Now, tell me? What kind of king would step down from his throne for this? For me? For you? For this “humanity” we have become? Jesus of Nazareth, the Son of God did! He did every bit of it for you and me. Oh, yes, it’s SO heavy to carry the crosses in our life that we sometimes think we can’t even take one more step with. But look up, my friends … because Sunday is coming!

{Author Unknown}

🖤

“Loneliness is the human condition. Cultivate it. The way it tunnels into you allows your soul room to grow. Never expect to outgrow loneliness. Never hope to find people who will understand you, someone to fill that space. An intelligent, sensitive person is the exception, the very great exception. If you expect to find people who will understand you, you will grow murderous with disappointment. The best you’ll ever do is to understand yourself, know what it is that you want, and not let the cattle stand in your way.”

{Janet Fitch}

🖤

“Loneliness does not come from having no people around you, but from being unable to communicate the things that seem important to you.”

{Carl Jung}

🖤

Well, folks? Who’da ever thunk I’d discover that there is, indeed, such thing as “World Solitude Day” … aaaaand TODAY’S the freakin’ day!

Meanwhile …

As far as I’m concerned, loneliness is rarely ever about the empty “physical spaces” within which so many of us dwell. Rather, it’s about the empty space in a person’s soul where they carry the weight of all the unspoken words and truths they’ve managed to convince themselves not to “think, speak, or feel” because they simply don’t feel safe enough to share them with anyone, including themselves.

In my experience, however, true healing and growth are about spending as much time as is necessary to figure out what matters most in your world (regardless of who you either do or don’t dwell in your spaces with) then learning how to SPEAK it ALL so that YOU are no longer alone with it! It’s how you let yourself be truly SEEN for what and who you really are, which (ps) in the oxymoronical twist of all twists is, indeed, how YOU attract the most important person in your life who you will EVER be in a relationship with …

YOU! 

… aaaaand THAT, my friends is how you become the BEAST who is “alone” but not “lonely“! Thoughts? Drop me a comment if you dare! I’d love to hear from you.

One year ago today, Daughtry released this most powerful tribute to what I believe is the most beautiful form of human existence there is:

“BROKEN INTO PIECES!”

Meanwhile, can I just tell you about this vase you see pictured here? My beautiful Mother gifted it to me from The Smithsonian Store catalog over thirty years ago, and it’s been one of my most prized possessions ever since. If you didn’t already know, “cloisonné” is a decorative art form wherein colored enamel paste that’s fused together with thin metal strings is applied to a metal base, thus creating intricate, shiny designs as the reflective material is woven in between the usually colored enamel. It’s a mosaic MASTERPIECE … kinda like ME:

None of you will EVER know what really lies beneath my surface and what you would find and how much it’s REALLY worth it! When I’m losing ground now, I don’t get nervous, ’cause I know there’s only so much I can control! Oh! But even with all the cracks in the mirror, my reflection couldn’t BE any clearer.  I’ve GOTTEN to learn to cope … even at the end of my ropes … while doing the best that I can to live with the broken pieces of me that were shattered! I can’t stop the bleeding that I’ll never “get over”, and it was, indeed hard to move on, but I’m living to LOVE all the pieces of me! I’ll NEVER know who’s coming for me into the storm without a warning, and like the cold of the morning, oh, how it will cut straight to the bone again. But it was the silence in the battle that made me no longer afraid of my own shadow. Now, I simply reach for hope when I’m at the end of all my ropes and just do the very best that I can. I can’t change the past, so i HAD to let go to learn how to live with these holes in my soul. 

Dear GOD, I really am the luckiest girl on this Earth and surely Your most FAVORITE daughter! Thank You for breaking me over and over and over. There’s LITERAL gold woven in between all the pieces that are ME. Just sayin’!

On this day two years ago, my beloved Shinedown released this ode, if not love song to honor anyone who struggles with their self-reflection and identity. As for ME? I, myself, am an out loud and PROUD, err, “highly symptomatic” if not overtly problematic human enigma prototypes who was, indeed, sent here to disturb the balance! Not only could my self-reflection not be any clearer now, BUT …

One has either to take me as I am, or LEAVE me as I am, but (ps), I DON’T REALLY CARE! One cannot change me … much less can one disturb my balance. THIS masterpiece of a human being, after all, is not made up of single pieces, from which a single piece can be taken out and replaced by something else, for I am made of the literal stardust my only Father spun right out of His perfect hands … which as far as I’m concerned makes me practically and PERFECTLY imperfect!

Much love to my spirit animal, Franz Kafka, for penning the words that I would eventually embody in such a paradoxical fashion! It is beyond my own comprehension that I became so lucky that I “GET” TO LOVE ME, “fuckin’ perfect flaws and all“, and almost always despite myself! Just sayin’!

By everyone … it’s me … CAT

(a/k/a “God’s FAVORITE Daughter“)!

To My Valentines …

Just a handful of wisdom nuggets from me to you on this day of celebrating all things LOVE! Some of these lessons I had to learn the very extremely hard way, while others I unfortunately learned a little too late. In the meantime, as you continue growing into your futures together, remember …

If you don’t speak, resentment will. Silence and avoidance are rarely ever “peace” … THEY’RE POISON! Always at least try to talk things through before you close your eyes at night, because communication is the key to every relationship in this life, and without it, even the strongest of relationships can just die.

It doesn’t take rocket science for me to know that eventually you’ll all be married. Well, at least that is this mother’s prayers have come true. Marriage is never just “50/50”, by the way … it’s “100/100” depending on the circumstance. There’ll be days “you carry her”, days “she carries you”, and that balancing act of generosity and patience is important. Don’t forget this!

Forgiveness doesn’t always erase the pain. It can, however, build trust. Sometimes you’ll forgive but never forget. Guess what? THAT’S OKAY! You’re only human after all. Moving forward in moments like that are a choice you’ll have to choose. Lower your armor and don’t become enemies.

Never stop doing all the little things for each other, because THOSE are the glue that will keep you bonded through thick and then, and believe it or not, it’s the little things you’ll remember the most when all is said and done.

Last but not least, yeah, love really does hurt you sometimes, and no, it really isn’t so easy to find. So, this is me hoping that all your collective searching really is over and that win, lose, or draw and hell or the highest of waters, you’ll always be standin’ there for when the other turns around. In the meantime, I love you all to The Moon and back … and back … and back!

~ Mom