Secrets Make Me Sick No Longer
A cousin of mine in Rome posted this earlier today and it just made me so emotional. There are really no other words I could say now. These echo every one of my sentiments already. Just keep breathing everyone. Keep breathing.
If you could sit on this bench and talk to anyone for one hour, who would it be and what would you say?
I saw a post very similar to this on a social media feed earlier last week and it struck a chord in me so loud that my answer was instantaneous. I would sit down with “younger me” and THIS is what I’d say:
Hey there young lady, it’s so nice to meet you! You don’t know me, and I don’t mean to scare you, but let me assure you that one day we WILL meet again. For reasons I can’t explain, and may sound a little insane, I already know a heck of lot about you. Right now, you’re feeling scared. You’re feeling lost, abandoned, and alone. You’ve been betrayed by people you thought you could trust, and your glass heart has been shattered into pieces. You think no one can hear or see you, and when you face yourself in the mirror each day you see nothing looking back but an abyss. Worst of all, you can’t see her yet, but there’s a dragon circling above you like a carcass. She’s gonna hold you for ransom inside her solitary cave, but YOU are going to slay her!
There’s a long, dark road that’s coming up ahead and some of the places it’s taking you are gonna suck. But listen to me, and listen good: Don’t you DARE change a thing that you’re about to do or even ONE of the decisions you’re gonna make! Life’s gonna burn the wings off your back that you don’t even know you have yet and some people who claim to love you are gonna leave you on the ground while you’re choking on their dust. But alas, your wings are eventually gonna heal and take you so high above the ashes you almost die in that even YOU won’t know how to stop them. Through it all, you’ll become a queen, a Light in peoples’ darkness, and a legacy your kids will be proud of. So, buckle up sister and hang on for dear life … I’ll be waiting for you on The Brighter Side Of Grey. In the meantime, there’s a song you haven’t heard yet because it hasn’t even been made, but let me put “us” in some words you’re gonna love as you STAND and sing it to the world …
Always remember that our “future selves” are watching us right now through the cracks inside our mirrors. So, make sure you are serving all those silent pieces of your memory well, because YOU are depending on every one of them.
You felt like a candle in a hurricane. Just like a picture with a broken frame. Alone and helpless like you’d lost your fight, but you were alright! You were alright! ‘Cause when push came to shove you tasted what you were made of. You almost bent ’til you broke ’cause it was all you could take. On your knees you looked up, decided you’d had enough. You got mad, you got strong, wiped your hands, shook it off – THEN YOU STOOD! Our life’s like a novel with the end ripped out. The edge of a canyon with only one way down. We’ll take what we’re given before it’s gone. We start holding on. We keep holding on. Every time we get up and got back in the race one more small piece of us just keepings falling into place … ‘CAUSE WE STAND! {Rascal Flatts}
Just for the record, there’s around seventeen eff-bombs in this salt-encrusted message from me, “the NICEST bitch you’ll ever fucking know”, to “WHOM IT MAY CONCERN”! Sorry, not sorry. This is me … take me or leave me … ’cause I don’t really care … and by the way, don’t EVER fucking touch me unless I tell you to.
Oh, and for the record, my name is CAT, not “Hey, Sexy!”, you Jean-Claude Van DAMN fucking douche nozzles who think it’s okay to speak to a QUEEN like she’s some kind of fucking thirst trap skeezer. Okay, that’s all. Now, go grab yourself some fucking Lucky Charms and have a really nice fuckin’ day!
Every morning when I get in my car, I play a fun little game with my stereo. I just spin the dial and leave it to Destiny’s roulette wheel to see which song my cue is going to land on and help me find my groove for the day. It’s kind of the best game EVER, part of my “music thing” therapy, and one of the little life nuggets I enjoy the most. So, this morning, the first song up was Iron Maiden’s “Wasted Years”.
I will never forget that Saturday afternoon in June of 2008 as I settled into my seat on Flight 438 and listened to this song as we flew. Thirty-eight seemingly “wasted years” in my rearview mirror and ZERO idea how many more were yet to come. Little did I know that an actual angel would show up in the seat beside me and change the course of my life forever, but he did, and here I am, “so far away” from the person I used to be who was then, indeed, “just a stranger to myself”.
Not a single one of the years laid behind me were wasted … not a second, minute, or hour. They were the best and worst parts of everything I’ve become and why I’m still alive to tell you about it. This morning as I listened to it, I was inspired, yet again, to KEEP “facing up and making my stand” because YES, I truly am living in my Golden years! Have I ever told you what an incredibly blessed woman I am? Okay, well then, let me say it again:
My name is Catherine Marie Williamson, I’m God’s favorite daughter, an apostrophe to the world, and a risen from ashes QUEEN.
From the coast of gold, across the Seven Seas. I’m traveling on, far and wide. But now it seems, I’m just a stranger to myself. And all the things I sometimes do, it isn’t me but someone else. I close my eyes and think of home. Another city goes by in the night. Ain’t it funny how it is? You never miss it ’til it’s gone away. And my heart is lying there and will be ’til my dying day. So, understand. Don’t waste your time always searching for those wasted years. Face up, make your stand! And realize you’re living in the golden years. Too much time on my hands, I got you on my mind. Can’t ease this pain so easily. When you can’t find the words to say, it’s hard to make it through another day. And it makes me want to cry and throw my hands up to the sky. So, understand. Don’t waste your time always searching for those wasted years. Face up, make your stand! And realize you’re living in the golden years.
{Iron Maiden}
There comes a point in every parent’s life when all of a sudden it just hits them in the face, “WOW, this is how I’m doing.” A few nights ago, this little 3am “quarantine conversation” happened with my beautiful, SPARTAN daughter, and indeed I was punched in the face with the reality that something I’m doing is RIGHT, and indeed my “legacy” is an enigma! Every mother’s child has that one special gift, but this child’s mother is in awe, and by the way: I MADE HER!
We can’t just tell them what they’re wings are made for then sit back and “hope for the best”. We have to actually show them! And if, like me, as an imperfect parent you somehow manage to break their wings while they’re learning how to fly? ACCOUNT to yourself, AND to them, APOLOGIZE for letting them down, then pick yourself up and try again … TOGETHER!
I hope you enjoy this video. It’s a little long, but well worth watching. Meanwhile, here’s to learning why the callouses on our feet can be a useful! And hey, future son-in-law, wherever in the world you are right now – YOU’RE WELCOME! Or, I’m sorry, whichever is more applicable!
I’m sure you’ve heard me say that I have suffered from, battled, and overcome a mental illness. I’m not sure, however, that I’ve ever said which one.
So, Cat, which one was it?
Drum roll, please! Now, wait for it! Wait for it:
Hi! I’m Cat Williamson, f/k/a “Girl, Interrupted“. I HAVE BORDERLINE PERSONALITY DISORDER (“BPD”). Well, I did that is. This month marks the seventh year of my recovery, and I’d like to tell you about it.
WHAT IS BPD? The National Institute Of Mental Health describes BPD as an illness marked by ongoing patterns of varying moods, self-image, and behavior. These symptoms often result in impulsive actions and problems in relationships. People with BPD may experience intense episodes of anger, depression, and anxiety that can last from a few hours to days.
WHAT MAY HAVE CAUSED MY BPD? As is the case with most mental illnesses, many mental health care professionals believe that BPD is caused by a combination of either genetic and/or environmental factors. I strongly believe that my BPD was environmentally predisposed, inasmuch as I was exposed to many adverse childhood experiences (“ACES”) that may have triggered the development of my symptoms. Although I don’t recall any sexual or physical abuse as a child, there were a vast number of instabilities that likely contributed to my illness.
I was ripped away from a closely interactive paternal family when my parents abruptly uprooted us from our home at a very young age. Keep in mind that because our family was enmeshed, my grandparents, aunts and uncles were consistently present and close caregivers at that time. So, the immediate, unexplained loss of them literally overnight was deeply traumatic. Likewise was the damage to my impressionable psyche from both the inconsistent emotional and physical presences of my parents at different points in time due to issues of their own beyond my control.
WHAT WERE SOME SIGNS AND SYMPTOMS? Most adolescents and adults with BPD lack the healthy coping skills required to handle even minimal amounts of stress or emotional discomfort and therefore often present with these signs and symptoms:
Someday, I’ll revisit the somewhat comical story of how my diagnosis came about, but sufficed to say that when I first realized what in actual HELL was wrong with me, I was shaken. Not only did I have a mental illness, but it was one of the most stigmatic and difficult to treat. Borderlines already think that “everything is wrong with them”, so having THAT label all but plastered across my forehead like the “SCARLET BPD” really was kinda like a storm. It was a torrential fucking cataclysm pummeling me 24/7, complete with lightning bolt surges of voices in my mind screaming “YOU’RE BAT SHIT FUCKING CRAZY”!
There’s a very cruel woman in this world who used my mental illness to bludgeon and emotionally blackmail me in an attempt to socially posture herself while I was vulnerable. She was a nursing student who claimed to have studied clinical psychology and someone I truly considered a friend, who after I was foolish enough to entrust with my precious vulnerabilities, set out to literally destroy me. Not only did she threaten to report me to the Texas Real Estate Commission and try to have my license revoked, but she also “exposed me” to our very small school community. Thus became my daughter’s descent into social ostracization, anxiety, depression and suicidal thoughts of her own after being surrounded by her classmates on the playground one day and asked,
Is it true that your mom is a sociopath who’s been in a mental hospital and is unsafe to be around children?
Yes, that really happened! The “first do no harm” medical professional leveled me and my daughter with my “girl interrupted” secret. Meanwhile, here I am, nine post-diagnoses years later. I did the work, know who I am, where I’ve been, and exactly where I’m going. That part of my journey is all but a distant memory, except to say that moving forward I have and will take any opportunity that avails itself to share “my little secret”, as in below when I did so recently in a very public forum. It’s the one thing I’ve published that I’m proudest of so far, because just as saying the words out loud to those closest to me was the most healing part of my journey, so too was writing the words out loud:
Oh, how I love and appreciate this question! Seriously, it means so much as a recovering Borderline to see these words out in the Cosmos in bold set black and white letters. It means you genuinely care and therefore desire to understand it, which for your average Borderline is more than half the battle! For me? The best thing anyone ever did to comfort me in my BPD darkness was to “look beyond the cover of my book” before casting unwarranted judgments, opinions, or assumptions about who others thought I was: “Crazy, dramatic, histrionic, spoiled rotten Girl Interrupted Catherine.” And by that, I mean this …
Obviously, as with any mental illness, there is no way to take a human brain apart and actually see the twists and turns that can “Molotov cocktail” a person into madness, but there is widely held belief that Borderline Personality Disorder tends to develop in a person with a history of: Emotional, physical or sexual abuse; Being exposed to long-term fear or distress as a child; Being abandoned or neglected (either physically or emotionally) by one or both parents; Growing up with another family member who had a serious mental health condition. [See Also the National Institute Of Mental Health’s overview in this regard.] In my case? Yup. My “childhood trauma resume” from cradle to this minute includes but is not limited to: ALL OF THE ABOVE! Although I do not believe that any of my primary caregivers intentionally and knowingly harmed, abused or traumatized me in the ways they did, but the resulting fallout was and is still very real to me, nonetheless.
I spent a lifetime (39 plus years) just trying to survive “me”, completely unaware of what the HELL was actually wrong with me, especially inasmuch as that “on the surface” at many junctures it did appear that my life was picture perfect. Even I sometimes told myself, “How dare you effing feel this way Catherine, you spoiled, crazy BRAT. Your life is absolutely PERFECT”. I hated me for hating myself and being “so unappreciative” of what ultimately revealed itself to be a farce of an existence, and especially hated knowing that the emotional storm cloud that seemed to follow me everywhere was raining on my loved ones’ heads as well.
Most Borderlines truly hate themselves at their darkest, deepest core because of the words and judgments of clueless people who’ve never walked a day in their shoes. They are programmed to believe that they are weak, dramatic, histrionic, ungrateful human train wrecks whose accompanying chaos darkens even the brightest room. BORDERLINES BELIEVE THEY ARE A CANCER TO THE WORLD, as so often this is what they’ve been told. My point being this: The best way to comfort a friend with Borderline Personality Disorder is to simply “hear them”. Listen to them. Dig a little deeper and ask them: What did your eyes see? What did your ears hear? How did your heart feel when it was a child? Then say these words to them: “I’m sorry that happened to you. It wasn’t fair at all, and I don’t think you’re a crazy, weak, spoiled rotten, histrionic train wreck of a human disaster. I’m sorry if no one ever told you that before.” Again, I am so thankful to see this question here and hopefully anyone reading my answer can find some value. “Girls Interrupted” are often just broken, yet powerful, very loving ANGELS that need their hidden scars and wounds acknowledged so their broken wings can finally get them off the ground. I know this all too well because that was me: “Girl Interrupted”. I spent so much time avoiding the Sun that I DIDN’T THINK I DESERVED that I cannot even tell you. I’m just so glad I lived to tell about it and finally start using my wings! Have a good day, and again, THANK YOU FOR ASKING THIS QUESTION!
So, there you have it! I’ve said it out loud, but I’m not a “girl interrupted” anymore. I’m the woman who’s a miracle … a STORM that finally “broke free”. My husband used to call me “The Borderline Whisperer”, because as I’ve walked side by side by side with the brave little “dark passenger” I’ve all but become best friends with, I’ve become accustomed to recognizing it quickly. In the last few years, I’ve had “the conversation” with quite a few people, most of whom have since sought treatment and are now fighting their way out of the storm. He was so fucking proud of me … his “beautiful disaster” of a wife … and everything he saw me go through to conquer it it. He was my number one supporter and never once threw it in my face or made me feel less than because I was sick. There’s no way I’d be writing this write today if it wasn’t for him. I know it. He knows it. GOD KNOWS IT! He carried the torch that God, Himself, prepared that lead me out of the darkness to The Brighter Side Of Grey, and I know he must be smiling right now as he watches me go public. How bittersweet is the irony that he that couldn’t find his way out of the darkness? Nevertheless, I am no longer ashamed to “say the words out loud”, because guess what? They don’t define me. That little secret makes me sick no longer, because it’s NOT a secret anymore!
Help me – I’ve fallen further in myself. I’m stuck here again. And I can’t see that I’m not digging my way out – I’m digging my grave. I’ve become my own demise. Paralyzed inside my mind. Arms are weak from holding up this front. No escape and no surprises. Complicated compromises. Hold me down when what all I really want is just to break free. Break free. Break free from everything. Break free before it breaks me. There’s got to be another way to start again. Tell me how you can be the brightest star and light up the sky? Well, I can’t seem to even light up my own way and I’m burned out from trying. I’ve become what I despise. Paralyzed inside a lie. Arms are weak from holding back the flood. Sinking as the waters rise. Drink myself to sleep each night. I’m going under and all I really want is just to break free. Break free. Break free from everything. Break free before it breaks me. There’s got to be another way to start again.
{Like A Storm}
… that moment your memory is reminded once again that it was “6 years ago” you “remembered” … and how lucky are you to be the luckiest women you’ve ever known, because now you have not one king, but two living safely in your heart, and some women never find one at all …
Every night in my dreams I see you, I feel you. That is how I know you go on. Far across the distance and spaces between us you have come to show you go on. Near, far, wherever you are, I believe that the heart does go on. Once more you open the door and you’re here in my heart and my heart will go on and on. Love can touch us one time and last for a lifetime and never let go ’til we’re gone. Love was when I loved you, one true time I’d hold to. In my life we’ll always go on. Near, far, wherever you are, I believe that the heart does go on. Once more you open the door and you’re here in my heart and my heart will go on and on. You’re here, there’s nothing I fear, and I know that my heart will go on. We’ll stay forever this way. You are safe in my heart and my heart will go on and on. {Celine Dione}
This morning I was daydreaming and making plans for a future I’m not so much planning as I am visualizing. It’s this thing he taught me to do: “If you want it, SEE IT, then make it happen!” Now, I’m sure some of you may be thinking, “Well, then why the hell didn’t he just SEE himself out his darkness?” Well, unfortunately, mental illness doesn’t work that way, especially when a human mind ends up literally splitting in two.
Zack and I always talked about the little cottage I want so badly, and he vowed to make that happen before my time was done. So, he would make me visualize it until then:
Close your eyes, Catherine. Tell me what you see. Tell me EVERYTHING you want at the cottage.
Then I would close my eyes and tell him:
It will look like a fairy tale … small and cozy … surrounded by trees … covered in climbing ivy with a stone chimney up on top … SURROUNDED BY HYDRANGEAS, YELLOW ROSES, SILVER BELLS AND COCKLE SHELLS …
This morning, while I was daydreaming, I once again closed my eyes and “saw it”. The little cottage that I’m going to have with the climbing ivy, stone chimney, and all my favorite flowers. Then, all was well and my day progressed.
Twenty minutes ago, my doorbell rang. “Who in the world?” When I opened the door, my stomach hit the floor in every best possible way with that all too familiar adrenaline dump I’ve come to know so well during the worst and best moments of my life. It was his florist … the only one he EVER patroned … and his partner in all these flower crimes when it came to knowing how to make me smile … with this beautiful arrangement for ME:
Hi, Cat. These are from Diane. She just wanted you to know we’re all thinking of you constantly.
Dismiss it as just coincidence if you must, but nope, not me, NOT EVER! Never will I fail to heed the signs of life that still flourish in the darkness! To me, it’s serendipity! My husband, my fate, and even God Himself all screaming to me out loud!
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I am one hell of a truly blessed woman! Zachariah, not a single one of your years in this realm were in vain. Every gift you gave and dream you dreamt is going to carry on for as long as I’m still on this Earth, because that’s just how it’s supposed to be.
The push is always part of us, and gravity’s never a friend. Deciding on who we can trust and finding our way to crescendo to the unknown. We’ll never make it outside unless we unlock the past and release the future that we’ve left to die. For too long we’ve taken placebos, but the unknown is awakening. Don’t give up now! There’s already so much at stake! If Atlas falls, I’ll rise up and carry us all the way. No we can never look back. Return to the salt and the sea. The quiet is only a trial and I will not take the placebos ’cause the unknown is awakening. But I will crescendo. Don’t give up now! There’s already so much at stake. If Atlas falls, I’ll rise up and carry us all the way. It won’t hold me down … the weight of impossible days. I’ll stand tall. I’ll rise up and carry us all the way. Keep moving forward now. Keep your head above the clouds. I’m right with you. I will lift you. Just hold on. {Shinedown}
The worst mental illness someone can have is any mental illness they are afraid to be honest about for fear of what will people think. So many broken people choose to live behind a mask, perhaps thinking it’s the only way they can protect the people they love, and perhaps even themselves, from the monster that is lurking within them.
Case in point: I just lost my husband to suicide on August 22, 2019. He had been diagnosed with childhood abandonment related depression a year prior. However, no one that thought they knew him had any idea what we had been dealing with at home, such that on August 23rd, when the news “hit the wall” on my Facebook page that he had taken his own life, everyone was shocked beyond belief. No one saw it coming, because he wore a mask.
My husband was always the brightest light and happiest face in every room with a larger than life presence. His smile was infectious. But behind every one of his smiles, jokes, and laughter, he was secretly dying inside. He believed for the longest time he could manifest his depression away by “faking it until he made it”, but sadly, that was not to be. He literally drowned inside himself, and the demons that had been circling his living carcass for his entire lifetime finally won.I personally believe that mental illness is still such a stigmatic issue that people who are suffering in silence are less likely to be forthright about their situations and seek the help they need for fear that in doing so they will be seen as weak, crazy, ungrateful, or just plain lazy.
“Mentally” and “ill” are not two words people want to be associated with in conversation. I myself struggled with a debilitating mental illness of my own for many years, so I do have that very personal point of reference as well. I was ashamed of myself and so afraid to let people see what was really going on inside of me for fear of “what would people think”. So, I, too, hid it behind a mask with the biggest smile I could fake. Thankfully I survived to tell about it.
I’ve been writing incessantly about both my, my husband’s, and even my beautiful daughter’s mental health journeys in “The Diary Of My Perfection” and specifically wrote a piece that I believe correlates to this topic in an entry entitled “SOLITARY: Life Behind A Mask” if anyone cares to read further on my perspective with this. It’s a commentary on The Joker movie, which I believe was a sobering eye-opener on this subject and really delves right into what I am saying.
This is a great question, by the way, and an extremely important one at that. Chances are that someone you know, and perhaps even someone very close to you, could be hiding behind a mask of their own and fighting an invisible monster alone in solitary. It’s imperative that as a society we find a way to enable those who are living in such darkness to take off their masks and start walking towards a light. The more awareness we bring to this? The more lives will be saved!
If only you could spend a day or two kicked back in a performance hall laden with mind-blowing acoustics to hear the soundtrack that coincides with my life via this Diary, oh, what a thrill you’d be in for! The concert of my life includes the highest of high, and lowest of low twists, turns, loops, and lulls that could only be rivaled by the most epic of roller coasters ever built. The melodies, ballads, thrashers, and beats on the “repeat” playlist in my mind and on my speakers ranges from orchestral compilations to “death metal” and Jesus, and everything else in between.
Five Finger Death Punch is one of my all-time favorite bands and their music was being woven into just about every part of my story long before I even knew who they were. I’m not gonna lie … it’s a little rough around the edges, and definitely not for the faint of heart. What we “Knuckleheads” know, though, is that behind every “fist in the air” and “finger to the sky” are the silent tears and broken pieces of men literally bleeding their souls out loud. Whereas the untrained ear hear “bitterness, hate, and defeat”, the Knucklehead hears tragic truth, hard-earned wisdom, and even the lighter and brighter part that that comes afterwards.
This morning, I posted this on a Death Punch page I follow:
Hello tribesmen. Hope you’re all faring well in this COVID operation. Meanwhile, I’m sitting here locked in my house with only my German Shepherd and my thoughts. When I posted this on my blog today, I went back to read it then closed my eyes and had THE best imaginary scenario about me and ALL OF YOU …
It’s two months from now. The pandemic has desecrated the earth. People are literally insane, like, real life “Walking Dead” martial law civilian chaos. But MY TRIBE is thousands of fed up, pissed off, “not right in the head” but actually VERY RIGHT IN THE HEAD, well-prepared, “life’s been priming us for this shit since the day we were born – how YOU doin” inked up, leather clad, metal in their faces, weapons-ready warriors and bulletproof phoenixes that the world once thought were just a bunch of angry freaks, losers, weirdos and assholes grinding their axes for NOTHING! Then? We take over the world! It was THE best mini-movie I’ve ever watched in my mind!
Let’s be ready to pick up our axes and start swinging, and this can be our fight song! Happy Friday everyone. Love all of you angry freaks and weirdos. No, really!
If “Coronapocalypse 2020” is really coming for us, rest assured that you’ll find me and mine living in the EPIC rogue society this song is conjuring in my mind! An army of formerly voiceless, broken, set aside, forgotten, hated, misunderstood and shame-filled “less-thans” whose lives have been preparing them for social distancing from the moment they were born? HELL TO THE YAH! They’d be the best tribe to survive with if the end of the world is really coming, complete with their giant axes in the air as they go searching for all the other survivors. Once upon a time, some of us actually lived beneath rocks for this hypothetical moment in time! Just sayin’ …
Got a gypsy soul. I’m a rebel and rogue and I’m always on the run. With a fire inside, I ain’t ever gonna die. I’m a locked and loaded gun. When the matches strike and the gasoline lights, it’s only just begun. One thing I learned, is you can watch it all burn, but the flame ain’t ever done! Ooh … Raise ’em up a little higher, your lighters, outlaws, and outsiders! Ooh … Some call me a renegade. The enemy. Throw your hands up if you feel the same. Whoa, living life at the edge.
Just say what you wanna say or walk away! I’ll stand tall when there’s hell to pay! Ain’t no power higher. We’re the outlaws and outsiders! Mm, yeah.
I was born in the dark with a fearless heart and a taste for the other side. I was a crazy-ass kid. All the shit I did. I’m amazed that I’m still alive. They thought I’d change with a little bit of age, but you know I never will. Takes too much time to walk a straight line and I don’t have time to kill. Ooh … Raise your fists up higher, you fighters, outlaws, and outsiders! Ooh … Some call me a renegade. The enemy. Throw your hands up if you feel the same. Whoa, living life at the edge.
Just say what you wanna say or walk away. I’ll stand tall when there’s hell to pay! Ain’t no power higher. WE’RE THE OUTLAWS AND OUTSIDERS!
(Cory Marks with Ivan Moody, Travis Tritt & Mick Mars)
Meet me at the crossroads. The edge of all my broken dreams. I feel like I’m missing something. Missing out. Missing me. I can only do what I know feels right. It’s time that I let go. Experience. Experience it all. I found a risk worth taking. Right or wrong, it’s my line to cross. Experience. Experience it all. I found a life worth living. I want to feel alive. I want to do more than just survive. Swimming in the shallow water. They never let me get too deep. The tide will have to take me under. Pull me in. Set me free. An angel to my left, the devil to my right. It’s time that I made a choice. Experience. Experience it all. I found a life worth living. I want to feel alive. I want to do more than just survive. A dream is only a dream. A dream is only a dream until you make it real. A dream is only a dream unless it’s something you can feel. I want something I can feel. {Trapt}
I remember the first time I heard this song in 2013 and how much it inspired me. Zack and I had been married for a couple of years, but despite the fact that we were crazy in love and truly being each other’s “better half”, I was still getting comfortable with the healthier skin I was wearing and learning how to stretch it after years of fighting to keep my head above the water in the battle for my sanity. My feet were on the path but it was a daily battle.
An angel to my left. The devil to my right. It was time that I made a choice.
Did it take me a minute to finally put all the pieces of myself that I had finally found back together and really go? You betcha! But guess what? That was then and this is now …
This is MY experience … “widowed by suicide” and all. I’m “all in” and here to tell you that I wouldn’t change a SINGLE step I’ve taken on this twisted as fuck but ethereally beautiful road I’ve GOTTEN to travel. Every single ounce of pain I’ve had to swallow has been my greatest medicine.
I’ve been a fan of the late British philosopher, Alan Watts, for quite some time. This particular lecture was my very first exposure to him and I’ve since listened to him as often as possible. His thought-provoking messages and ideals have a way of making you wonder, or as is the case with me, confirming what you already believe to be true.
Watts was known to be incredibly imaginative, if not stubborn in his vision, but at the same time open to the concept of “open-mindedness“. He was “black and white” and GREY, just like me, so, I feel a certain alchemy and connection to his spirit. I’ve had both my kids listen to him now, and they, too, are appreciative as they learn, grow, and expand their minds from his theories. If you’ve never heard of him, I truly hope you’ll find him as fascinating as I do. It’s really nice to listen to him in a quiet, candlelit space with a blanket, a German Shepherd, a handful of snuggly cats, and a cup of Joe! WINK, WINK! Just sayin’!
I’m writing this in case I’m gone tomorrow. I’m writing this in case I’ve moved along. There’s something that I hope you’ll remember: That life is not a game, it’s a song. So, take the best parts of me, locked away without the keys, and know that I’m forever by your side. When the lights go down, know that I am never far away. When the Sun burns out, I’ll be waiting on the brighter side of grey. If you’re reading this, I know you’re feeling sorrow. If you’re hearing this, I know you’re probably scared. Just know that all the things you own are borrowed, and all you get to keep is all you’ve shared. So, wipe away the tears for me, know that we’ve made history. Remember no one ever really dies. When the lights go down, know that I am never far away. When the Sun burns out, I’ll be waiting on the brighter side of grey.
{Five Finger Death Punch}
THIS PICTURE. I sketched it in my early 20’s using the literal ashes from both my father and His ashtrays. At the time, I had no idea the impact this or any of my 32 Sketches would have on me down the road, yet as I look at them now, I can’t help but notice that although I was in very dark place when they were born, something trapped deep inside me was hopeful. Still … this one! It begs the younger me to stay focused on the very bright future I couldn’t see through the fog, yet was patiently beckoning me all the while.
If you know me well, you know that grey is my favorite color, which is evident in my either predominately black and white or changing shades of grey artwork. What’s interesting about this one, though, is how poignantly it reflects upon the mental illness I fought so hard to overcome for the majority of my life long before it was diagnosed.
My disease imprisoned me in dichotomous thinking and held me for ransom in the little boxes inside my mind where I stored all my pain and trauma. Before I put it into remission, I was unable to accept people, situations, emotions, or behaviors as anything other than “good or bad”, “right or wrong”, or “one way or the other”. My entire life was black and white with no room for the grey! I had a defensive view of both the positive and negative qualities of myself and everyone else, and there was no way for my broken psyche to allow anything in between to exist in one cohesive space.
It’s often been suggested that my “splitting” was the result of severe emotional trauma and psychological abuse from my childhood. I tend to agree. You see, I was raised in a works and deeds based system of love and acceptance. If I was “good”, I was praised, affirmed, and rewarded. If I was “bad“, I was admonished, punished, and rejected. They’d “wash their hands of me” when I screwed up or failed to follow the rules, with zero validation or consideration of my feelings. My mind would “split” as I desperately attempted to shield myself from the constant fear of being abandoned, betrayed, or eviscerated by anyone who claimed to love me. While I don’t believe these traumas were inflicted intentionally, they were real nonetheless, as was the effect they had on my psyche. For years in the wake of not only my broken childhood, but in the wake of my self-inflicted destruction, I felt alone and voiceless, regardless of the people who appeared to be standing beside me. As such, I, myself, attempted suicide on November 8, 1996 and lived to tell about it. But I’ve digressed …
Music has always been an integral part of my mental wealth journey, but one of my favorite bands, Five Finger Death Punch, has been at the forefront of my recovery. Their songs have not only helped identify some of my lost and broken feelings, but also given my former self permission to either cry my feelings to the surface or just yell and scream them out loud! I’d pre-ordered their new album months ago, had been counting the days until release, and was stoked to finally get to listen to it cover to cover while running errands today. Meanwhile, when this song cued up, I had to pull my car into the breakdown lane as the words began cutting me in all the most bittersweet ways. I couldn’t stop the tears and physical heartache, and literally couldn’t breathe. It was one of the most cathartic, fucked up, and beautiful gifts of my life. It was as if he were singing it himself. To me. To her. To Christian. To the very few people he left behind who he ever truly loved and let into his private world. Someday, when it’s time for her to read the letter he wrote but never gave her, I’ll let her hear the song. Knowing God the way I do, when she’s finally able to receive these most alchemical lyrics of both our lives in conjunction with the most impeccable words a secretly dying father could have possibly written to his daughter, they’ll become as significant a part of her healing as they’ve been to mine.
Grey is not just a color to me … IT’S EVERYTHING IN BETWEEN! It’s the grace I’ve received that is so undeserved, yet given to me anyway by The One who’s never loved me with conditions. He “takes the best parts of me, locks them away without the key”, and I know He’s never far away. He’s the Light that shines ahead of my journey and dilutes the darkest of my abysses into all the most beautiful shades of grey.
For more than four decades, I lived a black and white existence with no room for the grey I knew I needed but didn’t know how to connect with. The grey is where I found all my truths. As I look back at this picture now, I’m filled with the most unbelievable solace imagineable. It reminds me of just how far I’ve come, that it was always supposed to be this way, and that there’s always a brighter side to all of this bittersweet and beautiful grey.
I’m not gonna lie … it is now my final wish that when it’s time for me to move along, this is the last song I’ll hear as they bid me farewell.
… when the doorbell rings and it’s the custom piece your friend and jeweler of 20 years had been creating just for you. It was born from the gold and diamonds my first two wedding bands and his. For those of you who don’t know this, Zack’s Life Path Number was 8, and it’s been working itself into some of the craziest moments since he left, not the least of which is the sobering reality that while we were very much hoping for the best with his spiraling mental health and passive suicidality, he had been preparing for the worst. Little did I know that on “8/8/19” he’d gone to Cabella’s and purchased the gun he used to end his life. So, from a numerology standpoint:
Not long before he died, he had also decided to have an infinity symbol, which is also an “8” when turned on its side, with both mine and Gia’s name tattooed on his left shoulder. This amazing woman even worked two semi colons into each end of the design for me, which we weren’t sure would even be possible, because as you know ...
“Infinity” represents so much more to me than just the endless love I’ll carry in my heart for him until I see him again. It represents the truly endless love that God has for all of us, which is something I am ever mindful of, especially in the darkest moments of my life.
He had to be smiling from ear to ear as he watched me open that package with as much pure joy as the day he first slipped those rings on my finger, and I will treasure this masterpiece as long as I’m alive. Although Gia still has so much to process where Zack and the horrific way that he hurt her are concerned, when the day finally comes that I, too, have to move on to The Brighter Side Of Grey, hopefully she and maybe even her daughters will treasure and wear it proudly as they bask in the legacies of love, Light, and endless resilience their “Crazy Grandma Cat” and even Zack were determined to have live on through them infinitely.
Before the start, beyond the end. As far as east is from the west. Measureless. From open sky to ocean depths. More than man can comprehend. Measureless. Your love is without limit, Your love is constant. Your love goes on forever. Your love is endless. Your love is overwhelming, I can’t contain it. Your love, Your love, Your love is endless! Oh, how vast, and oh how wide. Far beyond all space and time. Measureless. Your love is without limit. Your love is constant. Your love goes on forever. Your love is endless. No death, no height. No fear, no shame, no lie. I am convinced, even the grave could never separate. {Cory Asbury}
I am now “ASIST” (Applied Suicide Intervention Skills Training) certified. I’d say it was an emotionally tough 48 hours, but that wouldn’t be quite true. There were definitely a couple of moments when I felt myself potentially sliding backwards, like during a video reenactment of a 911 suicide call with the sound of a double-barrel shotgun being loaded and death certificates being filled out on the widescreen. Still. No tears. Not a single one. I refuse to look back with sorrow, agony, or regret at the devastation in my life.
In addition to the life-saving skills I learned, the most powerful takeaway wasn’t skill related at all. You see, when I walked into that facility it was packed. Forty something people were all there to be volunteer trained, and even some who traveled to Dallas from other states to teach the class. Keep in mind that an inventory of the trainees revealed “regular people” from many different jobs, professions, statuses, and groups. While some, like me, had either lost a loved one to suicide or survived an attempt of their own, most were not in either category. It was a random group of concerned citizens who truly believe that suicide is a serious and growing epidemic society is facing who just wanted to find a way to help. It reminded me, yet again, that this world isn’t as dark and lonely as it often seems, and there are still good people in it.
While I pray to God that I never get that call and have to put these skills to use, statistics say that I probably will. I’M PREPARED! God allowed me be broken so that I could become a Light in the dark and live a life of use to others in His name. I am bound and determined to maintain every SINGLE ounce of the resilience I’ve fought so hard to earn going forward and for the rest of my days on this Earth.
You’re shattered like you’ve never been before. The life you knew in a thousand pieces on the floor. And words fall short in times like these when this world drives you to your knees. You think you’re never gonna get back to the you that used to be. Tell your heart to beat again. Close your eyes and breathe it in. Let the shadows fall away. Step into the light of grace. Yesterday’s a closing door. You don’t live there anymore. Say goodbye to where you’ve been and tell your heart to beat again. “Beginning”. Just let that word wash over you. It’s alright now, love’s healing hands have pulled you through. So, get back up, take step one. Leave the darkness, feel the Sun. ‘Cause your story’s far from over and your journey’s just begun. Tell your heart to beat again. Close your eyes and breathe it in. Let the shadows fall away. Step into the light of grace. Yesterday’s a closing door. You don’t live there anymore. Say goodbye to where you’ve been and tell your heart to beat again. Let every heartbreak and every scar be a picture that reminds you Who has carried you this far. ‘Cause love sees farther than you ever could. In this moment Heaven’s working everything for your good. {Danny Gokey}
Yes, my friend, I know exactly how you’ve been, and, no, I don’t ever want to see you here again. Don’t forget to keep those walls down and your windows open wide as you stand in your mirror often and marvel at who you’ve become. You don’t need to wish for anything when you start to fall, because after all that we’ve been through, we’ve learned how to pick ourselves back up. No more pretending. No more truth bending. This “game” is not a game … it’s a song. You’re a Phoenix. You’re a queen. YOU’RE You’re a WARRIOR and a SURVIVOR! Now go on and shine that Light in someone’s darkness the way you were always meant to. I love you, girl!
How have you been? Nice to see you again. How quickly these conversations seem to end. You meet a friend every now and then. How quickly these relations turn into trends. Put all your walls up and open your windows and close all your doors. You catch yourself standing in front of the mirror and now you need more. What do you wish for to catch you as you’re falling. So easy to ignore, but now you hear it calling again. “I wouldn’t want to be you. This lonely game that you play between your walls you confuse. Every heart that you break. So afraid that you’ll lose. Always a void to replace. I wouldn’t want to play you. You try and pretend, the truth is hard to bend. How easy these translations can be read. What if you were led to play a different game instead. How hard these frustrations are to mend. Does it matter to you? Just wait! {Trapt}
Long before August 22, 2019, when Zack turned our world upside down in the most egregious way possible, Gia had been on a downward spiral of her own. It was November of 2018 when during a random a spot check of her phone, Zack walked into our room with a look of fear on his face like nothing I’d ever seen. He’d found that she’d Googled, “I don’t want to live anymore” and “I want to kill myself”.
Prior to his suicide, Gia had been fighting a darkness of her own for years, at the heart of which was the depression, anxiety, and PTSD from the unsettled relationship with “real dad” and the subsequent fallout His girlfriend and her daughter bestowed her. “Girlfriend” is the highly skilled and calculated”first do no harm” nurse THING with an agenda that’s seeing it’s way to fruition as I write this. They did a number her, which is still a source of unrest for her to this day, as not only is he still with her, but he’s planning to marry her.
Meanwhile, her years at St. Mark’s were spent toggling on the in and outskirts of a tribe of girls that only perpetuated her depression. “The Squad”, as they called themselves, were and still are clustered together like herpes blisters to bolster these infectious beliefs:
“The Squad” could neither stand NOR tolerate her lingering presence, much less allow her to enjoy any security within the group. Her genuine likeability, kind heart, natural beauty, intelligence, effortless athleticism, more developed physique, and “affluence” by virtue of her family were threats to the popularity and power they so desperately craved amongst their bottom-feeding, loser selves.
Wow, that’s harsh Cat! They were young girls who probably didn’t know better.
NOPE! Wrong answer! By this point in their lives, they most certainly knew better, and likewise, knew exactly what they were doing! For the record, a few of their pig like, “let’s relive high school vicariously through our daughters”, white trash, day drinking, pot smoking, pleather wearing, titties and asses hanging out all over social media, “making out with other moms in nightclubs” mothers actually supported, if not instilled the “do what you must to ascend to the top” mindsets into their daughter’s psyches from a very young age. Lol, one hasn’t lived until they’ve actually heard a sixth grade TWOT of a girl say to the carload of other sixth graders packed into your SUV on the way home for a Friday night sleepover:
My mom said that the new girl’s family is VERY rich, her grandparents live in a mansion, and that I should try and make friends with her so that SHE can make friends with her mom so my DAD can try and get their business.
Umm, really? It’s beyond pukeworthy, but also? ABSOLUTELY TRUE! These are the kind of “white-collar” trash bag families my daughter was associating with.
Yesterday, I finally got to the bottom of something that’s literally been eating her alive. As it turns out, her stunningly beautiful face and very developed physique had become more of a problem for “the Squad” than we’d suspected. You haven’t lived until you’ve seen your already broken daughter just staring at her plate and fighting through that mental gauntlet so many of us fall prey to:
I’m hungry, but maybe I shouldn’t eat this, because after all, I’m just a huge cow with gigantic legs that are twice as big as Taylor’s.
That’s right people, turns out Gia has had a dragon of her own circling her fragile heart. Fortunately, though, she talks to me about everything, albeit some days more than others. Now that I think of it, both my kids talk to me about everything, and eventually I get to the bottom of all their truths. With each day that passes, I’m learning more about the self-sabotaging voices she’s been fighting inside her mind, and as we talked through the war she was having with her food yesterday, she finally spilled these sobering words:
Mom, the thing is, I hate the way I look. I hate my curves and hate being so tall. And Mom, I never told you this, but last summer when I was at a Squad sleepover, we were upstairs, and Taylor started making fun of how much bigger my legs were than hers. She said, “Look everyone! Two of MY legs equals ONE of Gia’s!” Then she pointed out how much bigger my legs were than EVERYONE’S, and they all started laughing. THEN she started talking about my big, huge chest, and they started laughing even harder, and I felt like dying inside, and wanted to cry, but I couldn’t. They were supposed to be my friends Mom, but NO ONE stood up for me! Not even MJ! I wanted to call you to come pick me up, but I didn’t. I HATE MY BODY! Why DO my legs have to be so big? Maybe I just need to eat less?
And there you have it folks! It was a cruel and heartless CUNT bitch move! After all that my daughter had done for worthless sewer rat, “Tae Mae”, the only way she could make herself feel was to bring my daughter down to her “giant” knees. When I imagine my beautiful Mona Lisa sitting there surrounded by “her tribe”, the girls who were supposed to stand up for her, not only against the world, but against each other if necessary, in yet another “circle of abuse”, it makes me literally want to puke. It was her very own “Spic And Span“, and it was unacceptable!
I was infuriated beyond comprehension at first, but quickly remembered that I needed to keep calm and control my reaction. So, I took a deep breathe, thought things through, and this was my response:
Gia, I hear and understand you. I have been where you are and felt these same feelings, and I’m sorry that happened to you. It was unacceptable, BEYOND untrue, but damaging, nonetheless. But going forward, if you are to rise above this, you CANNOT worry about other peoples’ opinions. Remember: What other people think of you is none of your business! Any cruel disregard for your heart, emotions, and feelings is about THEM, not you, because in all their pathetic weakness, those “words” are ALL they have to slay you with. THEY HURT YOU BECAUSE THEY FEAR YOU! And remember this: You’re a queen, too, my beautiful little girl – a lioness perched on a hill! You DO NOT and WILL NOT consider the opinions of pitiful, insignificant, irrelevant, weak herding sheep that laugh at, mock, or torment you just to gain power, because you are MY daughter, and you are stronger and better than that! We can’t change the past, but we CAN change the future, so here’s what: Finish your breakfast, go get changed, let’s hit the gym today and do the work! Deal?
And so with that, we WILL keep working towards our soul destinations. My daughter is that fighter who will “keep on fighting on“, because she is mine, and that’s what GOOD queens do. Goodnight everyone!
I was there on the day that you were changed. You were scared and prepared for the heartbreak. Everything you knew faded out of view. Stole a piece of you. If I could, oh, I would be a hero. Be the one who would take all the arrows. Save you from the pain, carry all the weight. But I know that you’re brave. Fight on, fighter! Don’t let anyone steal your fire. Fight on, fighter! The Spirit is alive inside ya, yeah. There’s a part that you hold that you lock down. Let it breathe, give it wings, set it free now. Time to make ya walk, break the prison bars. Show them who you are. Fight on, fighter! Don’t let anyone steal your fire. Fight on, fighter! The Spirit is alive inside ya, yeah. Stronger than you than you ever thought. I know you’re stronger. Braver than you were before. You know you’re braver. Oh, no, you don’t have to be afraid. Together we’ll face it. So don’t ever stop no matter what. ‘Cause you’re gonna make it. {for King & Country}
There is NO way for me to properly express the depth of my gratitude for the love, support, and faith you’re all pouring into me not only here in The Diary, but in other forums such as Quora, where I’m sharing not only my journey, but the fallen king’s as well.
My reach is growing stronger by the minute, and I’m consumed by a burning fire in my heart when I open my statistics every morning to find that people literally all over the world are reading my words. I’m getting messages daily, from again, all over the world, and what is resonating loudly is that people are relating to all the best and worst parts of my life and being inspired to try and make some changes of their own and step out of their own silent darkness. All I’ve ever wanted is for other broken people to realize the power and potential of their own strong warrior hearts and find the courage to not only survive … but THRIVE!
I can’t stay chained to my secrets …
…and neither can you! The secret pain, anguish, heartache, and trauma we keep buried within our hearts is nothing short of a 30,000 pound anchor that not only keeps our ships bound to the turbulent seas that some of us end up drowning in, but also keeps us from ever reaching safe harbor. As for me? My most life-altering, traumatic and darkest “secret” has still yet to be revealed by the way, because frankly, I’m just not ready to reveal it. I’m working with God directly on that one and together we will both know when it’s time for my “biggest reveal”. But in the meantime …
I can change … I can change tomorrow!
All of YOU are helping me do that and I pray that my words will help you change your own tomorrow if that’s what you need to do. Again, THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR SUPPORTING ME. My best to everyone reading this … MAKE IT A POWERFUL DAY!
For the first time in years there’s a light up ahead. It’s calling. (It’s pulling me closer) Reborn within. Now I’m shedding my skin. It’s falling. (The weight off my shoulders) ‘Cause I can’t stay chained to my secrets. No, I can’t stay. I’m bound by my regrets. I can’t erase all of my errors. Those days are gone forever. I can change, I can change tomorrow. I can change, I can change tomorrow. On my knees in the rain with my head hung in shame, just crawling, stalling. (All alone in my ways) Memories I can’t erase. Faces I couldn’t face haunt me. (My life lay to waste). ‘Cause I can’t stay chained to my secrets. No, I can’t stay. I’m bound by my regrets. I need a break. It’s now or never. Yesterday’s gone forever. I can change, I can change tomorrow. I can change, I can change tomorrow. For all the years of emptiness. For all of my mistakes. For all the years I’ve thrown it all away. It’s not too late. {Like A Storm}
I was at the Social Security office today handling the business that no one ever really wants to handle: “Widowed. Meanwhile, while I was waiting for my number to be called I decided to clean out my wallet because not only was I bored out of my mind, there was no wi-fi there, so, tag, “cleaning out my wallet” was it!
So, guess what I found tucked tucked away in a space in the wallet that I didn’t realize existed? A love note from my husband that he had hidden for me to find! As shocked as I was, I wasn’t really that shocked at all. It wasn’t uncommon for him to do things like this. I have an entire treasure trove of the cards and love notes he would hide for me during our season.
For richer or poorer. For better or worse. In sickness and in health. Until death did us part … and EVEN beyond?
You see, that was just his way. He wanted me to know I was his queen and how grateful he was that it was I, and no one else, who gave him the love, family, and only real home he’d ever had and had been searching for all his life.
He gave me this wallet on Valentine’s Day last year, and looking back I do remember both the referenced back pain and the argument I’d had with my mom. So, he must have hidden it sometime at the end of March. My husband was, indeed, struggling at that point and slowly descending downward, but there were still very clear traces of “him” that existed. Someday, when I’m ready, I’ll go back and revisit “the descent“, but in the meantime …
Yes, I’m a warrior. Yes, I’m “a survivor”. But even warriors cry, and you know what? THAT’S OKAY! What kind of queen would I be without moments like today that I literally cry my eyes out to the point of nausea because I miss my fallen king, who lost his damn mind, and left me all alone on this throne that he gave me with a broken heart and a hurting and traumatized princess? I’d be a pretty heartless one I suppose. One thing I know for sure about myself is that my heart is bigger than the ocean. I’m an empath, to boot, so, yes, sometimes I cry. But then I wipe my tears, straighten my crown, yes, my life must go on! I’m pretty stubborn that way if you haven’t figured it out by now, and also? GOD! Just God. I know He was crying with me this afternoon, and I know he was smiling when I got right back up the way I did! “That’s my girl”, He said, and hopefully so did Zack. I am loved. Still. Always. Eternally.
Sitting alone in the cold of the night. You’re trying to find what you need to survive. You’re so afraid you can’t go on. Left in the silence that tears at your heart. It only reminds you how broken you are. You’ve lost your way, but Hope is not gone. ‘Cause the Sun always sets. The moon always falls. It feels like the end – just pay no mind at all. Keep rolling. Rolling. Life must go on. Do you remember and long for the past? When love was eternal, and joy seemed to last? Yesterday. Forever is gone. ‘Cause the Sun always sets. The moon always falls. It feels like the end – just pay no mind at all. Keep rolling. Rolling. Life must go on. It must go on. We have our misfortunes. The darkest of days. We must endure and keep strong. Just look to the morning. The promise awaits. And know that this life must go on.” {Alter Bridge}
Dear GOD, how I do love them so! They’re always so bittersweet, especially in the wake of that August 22nd, 2019 “memory” that I love to hate so much. Three years ago today, I wrote these words:
That moment you become a blubbering mess and thank GOD that you were lucky enough to bear certain crosses, because at the end of the day you may have lost some skin, but definitely ended up becoming real. And after all, isn’t “real” the only mark you want to touch the world with and the legacy you most want to leave for your children? “Please let me reach just one …”. I love you Sheyenne. To the Moon and back, always have, always will, and you will never NOT be one of “mine”. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
Of course, I had to “repost it” today, as it’s still one of the happiest memories of my life so far, and as I said, every single time I read what she wrote on the back of that picture she sent it still brings tears to my eyes AND reinforces why it is that I do what I do. This particular kiddo of mine and I share a very special bond (she was my son’s first true love and high school sweetheart). She was then and is now like an actual daughter to me, and so is her big sister by the way. I love them both beyond measure, just as I love ALL “my kids”. No matter how far away they go, they always know they have a safe place and another home with this Momma Cat.
My kids can tell me anything, and trust me when I say that I’ve heard absolutely everything! I hear and listen to them without judgment or unnecessary harsh criticism and only offer my honest wisdom and advice when they ask for it. In my halo, my kids and their feelings are validated, accepted, and embraced in all things, which, for the record, is exactly what I needed when I was younger, and exactly who I’m trying to be for them now that I’m older.
“Safe Inside” is a special song to me in this regard, and every time I hear it I think of every one of them – “my kids” (the ones I gave birth to and the ones who I’ve been blessed to have call me “mom”). These days when I hear it, though, it I also think of my husband, and hope that he’s finally made it safely “Home“. Although I, myself, have clearly fallen down at times in ways that some of you may never truly know, much less understand, as sick as he was at the very end, he left here having truly known “real love” as well, and for that I am equally as blessed and grateful to have been the one to make that happen for him before he had to go. In the meantime, I will not rest until I know that all the people I love in this world are “safe inside”, both physically and metaphorically.
I remember when you were all mine. Watched you changing in front of my eyes. What can I say? Now that I’m not the fire in the cold. Now that I’m not the hand that you hold as you’re walking away. Will you call me to tell me you’re alright? ‘Cause I worry about you the whole night. Don’t repeat my mistakes, I won’t sleep ’til you’re safe inside. If you’re home, I just hope that you’re sober. Is it time to let go now you’re older? Don’t leave me this way, I won’t sleep ’til you’re safe inside. Everyone has to find their own way. And I’m sure things will work out okay. Always start with the Truth. All we know is the Sun will rise. Thank your lucky stars that you’re alive. It’s a beautiful life. Oh, will you call me to tell me you’re alright? ‘Cause I worry about you the whole night. Don’t repeat my mistakes, I won’t sleep ’til you’re safe inside. If you’re home, I just hope that you’re sober. Is it time to let go now you’re older? Don’t leave me this way, I won’t sleep ’til you’re safe inside. If you make the same mistakes, I will love you either way. All I know is I can’t live without you. There is nothing I can say that will change you anyway darling, I could never live without you. I can’t live, I can’t live, no, no. {James Arthur}
… because sometimes a song is all I really need to say everything I need to say. As of the moment I’m writing this, it’s exactly five months to the day that my life took a dive into the abyss. At quarter ’til midnight, I’ll probably have that gut-punch of a flash inside my head that I still can’t seem to shake, but I know that I’ll be okay. I’ll just cycle through the gauntlet and land right back on my feet, just like I do every day, because I’m a Warrior QUEEN with a “ghost gang” of actual angels that ride or die with me always.
I still believe that I’m the luckiest woman alive and God’s actual favorite daughter. Truth being told, I’ve never felt closer to God than I have these last months, and my relationship with Him has been my ultimate saving grace. That, my friends, is the ONLY Truth I’ll ever need.
With that, my “186th day” prayer tonight is that everyone I love, anyone who’s life I touch, and anyone who is reading these words right now somehow reaches this divinely appointed place called “nirvana” that I have so that they never have to deep dive all alone.
I am still as the moment I hold in my hand. I can’t let go. Here and now, time and space, the illusion so grand. And then I know every breath leads the way. My escape, it is never far when I fall in the deep with You. I see that Heaven’s never far. Let it wash over me, The Truth I seek, let it lift my heavy heart. So alive, every rise, every fall brings me back to where I must go. All that I’ll ever need is this moment to get me by when I fall in the deep. With You I see that Heaven’s never far. Let it wash over me, The Truth I seek. Let it lift my heavy heart. I’m slowly fading in Your arms. I’m slowly fading in Your arms. When I fall in the deep, with You I see that Heaven’s never far. Let it wash over me, The Truth I seek. Let it lift my heavy heart. {Alter Bridge}
Today was an important day for me, if not one of the most important decision-making days of not only my life, but my the kids’ lives as well. I won’t go into details of what exactly this decision was, but trust me when I tell you – it was a biggie! As I made the drive from home to downtown Dallas, it was a crisp, cold, insanely beautiful morning with a sky bright blue and clear. Yet, as sure that I was that the decision I was making was the right one, I spent the entire drive there talking out loud to God, my angels, my husband, and pretty much anyone “beyond here” who was listening.
I just need a sign. Someone? Anyone? PLEASE!
I was begging for an answer,
Is this what I’m supposed to do? Is this what Zack would want me to do?
Even after I parked and was headed into the building and up the elevator, I was reaching out to the Cosmos for, “please, just ONE little sign?” STILL CRICKETS! Even so, all was well, because I knew that Zack’s best friend, rock, truest confidant, and the only human man he ever trusted and looked to as a father in all things big or small was already there waiting waiting for me to help guide me through the process. Just his presence alone was enough to set me completely at ease.
When I finally made it to the office where the woman I was meeting with was waiting, I sat down beside Rick and the fun began. By the second hour in, our partnership had commenced, at which point Rick had to leave. Research was being done, calls were being made, and forms being prepared for my signature while I just sat there patiently in my chair watching all the magic. This woman was was literally planning not just my future, but my childrens’.
Meanwhile, as I was gazing around her office at all the “things“, it felt as though I was in my very own world. Then, as I glanced over to a table with a vignette of personal pictures and trinkets she had on display, it happened! The sign I had BEGGED “Them” to show me all but dropped right down from Heaven! A little silver frog with a crown on his head was sitting right before my eyes! I almost came out of my skin! And just like that I was yet again reminded that this God I serve is so faithful.
Do I have to turn water into wine? Turn some stones into bread? Do I have to paint my heart across the sky in a blazing shade of red?”
No, Papa, You don’t. You’ve been making a believer out of me since I first realized I was broken, and while I’ve clearly known this all the while, this moment between us was unbelievable. You just keep showing me … and showing UP for me … in all things big and small. I want You to know that I’m thankful for ALL OF THIS, and I know You’re planning to use it for Your glory. Thank you for never letting me down and never letting me go. I love You.
You say you fell out of love with no place to stand. You say your heart’s on the mend from a broken romance. You say you don’t want to trust because it hurts too much. And you think I’d never understand. Tell me what have I got to do to make a believer of you? Do I have turn water into wine? Turn some stones into bread? Do I have to paint my heart across the sky in a blazing shade of red? Do I have to push the Sun into the sea to make you fall in love with me? Oh, if that’s what it takes then let it be. You say, you don’t need my love but I know it’s a lie. You say I shouldn’t even try. Tell me what have I got to lose to make a believer of you? Do I have turn water into wine? Turn some stones into bread? Do I have to paint my heart across the sky in a blazing shade of red? Do I have to push the Sun into the sea to make you fall in love with me? Oh, if that’s what it takes then let it be. You need me to turn the tide of your ocean. Let me set your heart back into motion. {Clay Crosse}
Gia and I watched “The Shack” again last night, which by the way, if you haven’t seen it, I cannot recommend it enough.
It’s the fictional fictional story of an abominable if not unforgivable tragedy that causes a father to sink into a deep depression and question everything about his faith until he receives a mysterious letter that insights his journey to “a shack” that reignites his bludgeoned soul back to The Truth.
When it first hit the box office in March of 2017, Zack, Gia, Christian, and I went to see it together. I had already read the book when I was at The Meadows, and then again on one of my scoots up to Kansas, but when I heard about the movie release, I immediately bought our tickets, because I needed them all to see it.
It was a powerful night for the four of us as a family, and like many others in the theatre that night, we all just sat silently in tears until well after the lights came on and the clean-up crew started their sweep. It seemed to hit Christian the hardest, and at one point, the other three of us were huddled around him in his seat just holding him as he was literally crying his eyes out.
Meanwhile, one of the most powerful parts of the movie for me was a song I love called “Stars”, by Skillet. It’s about the blind faith of a true believer who trusts that God is in control of everything. That’s me … hands down … without question, hesitation, or doubt.
Those who know me well know that I’m a gamut of emotions that often mimic a gauntlet. I can be kind and loving, empathetic and caring, and fiercely protective of those who are in my bubble. I can also be a raging, angry, LUNATIC of a bitch with a vicious tongue that will take you to your knees if you’re the one facing the truth in my words. I will and have forgiven anyone “human” 200% of the time, but never shall I forget those who’ve hurt me or mine.
My point in all this being that although I can appear extremely dark at times, and as God Himself is my witness, I live, breathe, and will die by the message of Hope in this song. So, please don’t let my dark side poke holes in the truth of my testimony. At the end of the day, I’m still just a broken person who wants to live a life of use to others and is trying her best to be as “Light” as possible under any circumstance.
If you are struggling in the darkness with brokenness, depression, or a shaky faith of your own, please listen to the words of this song. God may have His hands full with all the big stuff … BUT … He does know who you are. He does know your name. He does bear your pain. He does cry when you cry. And please don’t forget to let yourself cry as my son did in that theater as often as necessary so that you can release any internalized pain that’s keeping you from taking flight:
By the way, it’s okay to feel sadness and grief for the things that have died inside of you, and it’s certainly okay to cry. Now that I think of it, it’s such a blessing that one of my favorite verses in the Bible also happens to be the shortest: JOHN 11:35: Jesus wept. CRY AS OFTEN AS YOU NEED TO! Get mad! Scream out loud! Do whatever you must to let yourself feel everything that has hurt you so you can finally let it go!
{“REOPENING A GIFT ~ APRIL 21, 2008“}
Look at me, people! Shouldn’t I be curled up in a ball right now in the aftermath of what happened 180 days ago? Been there. Done that. I’ve run off and hid in “my shack” way too many times to count, but He comes looking for me EVERY time!! He always has and always will, and that, my friends, is The Truth.
In the meantime, I’ll just keep looking to the stars and praying that the king of my heart who was never able to resolve the pain that had been devouring him for the entirety of his life has been given an even better set of wings and THE best Guide of all to lead him to his shack in Heaven.
You spoke a word and life began. Told oceans where to start and where to end. You set in motion time and space. But still You come, and You call to me by name. But still You come, and You call to me by name. If You can hold the stars in place, You can hold my heart the same. Whenever I fall away. Whenever I start to break. So here I am, lifting up my heart to The One who holds the stars. The deepest depths, the darkest nights. Can’t separate, can’t keep me from Your sight. I get so lost, forget my way. But still, You love and You don’t forget my name. If You can hold the stars in place, You can hold my heart the same. Whenever I fall away. Whenever I start to break. So here I am, lifting up my heart to The One who holds the stars. If You can calm the raging sea, You can calm the storm in me. You’re never too far away. You never show up too late. So here I am, lifting up my heart to The One who holds the stars. Your love has called my name. What do I have to fear? What do I have to fear? Your love has called my name. What do I have to fear? What do I have to fear? {Skillet}
Her opinion of me is all that matters. Thank God I have this rising phoenix of a daughter to reinforce this truth when life and the careless and clueless people in it try to make me feel like anything less than who I am …
My well-intended and MUCH needed family time on a rare occasion tonight when I could have ALL of my tribe together in one space ended up going down in flames after some abhorrently selfish FORMER “friends” turned clients said these less than impeccable words to me:
You DO KNOW that when you CHOSE to become a real estate agent that THIS is the life you signed up for, don’t you? You need to be working 24/7, nights AND weekends. OUR best interest should come before your own.
(“Anthony & Diane Massa”)
Then, out of the blue, this text from the Mona Lisa showed up and changed everything. She’s right! Zack did used to say, “real estate shouldn’t make you cry”. After reading what she wrote, I actually “heard” him saying it.
I really am Wonder Woman! I am awesome at my job! I do work 24/7, weekdays AND nights, even more so now that I’m a widowed, single mom, and “the man of the house”. I knew exactly what I signed up for when I became a real estate agent, so, ZERO devaluation of me as a person or professional shall there be! It’s unacceptable, gross, and never will I allow someone to speak to me that way again!
With that, I will pick my face up off the ground and start fresh again in the morning. As I lay my head down tonight, though, I am mindful of this most important fact: My kids’ opinions of me is all that matters! Well, their opinions of me and mine! Leave it to a child to fill my empty cup back up with water.
These former “friends” could take a good lesson in how to be impeccable with their Jean-Claude Van DAMN shitty “toy guns“. With that, I drop the words to yet another one of my favorite songs to my beautiful children, who are, indeed, “my reasons”:
I’m not a perfect person. There’s many things I wish I didn’t do. But I continue learning. I never meant to do those things to you. And so, I have to say before I go that I just want you to know I’ve found a reason for me to change who I used to be. A reason to start over new … and the reason is you! I’m sorry that I hurt you. It’s something I must live with everyday. And all the pain I put you through … I wish that I could take it all away and be the one who catches all your tears.
First of all, I am sorry that you are struggling this way. And if you truly have no other resources, there are two things I can suggest: Music; “Open forums” such as this. I believe that finding and listening to ALL types of music can often help a person get to the root of what is really eating them up inside and then maybe even empower them to rise above all of it. Music is a way of singing to yourself, saying “love words and thoughts” to yourself, and hey, in certain cases, even SCREAMING TO YOURSELF (and other people or relationships in your life that you may be struggling on the inside but don’t feel comfortable enough to say certain things “out loud or to their face”). Second, these “open forums”, such as Quora, are indeed a good resource. Keep looking for the answers you are searching here and you will perhaps find that not only are you not as alone as you may have originally thought, but, that the vast majority of the population does truly care anout one another and wants to see others stick around. We all need one another … even a bunch of random strangers such as “here”. Take care of yourself friend. Keep the faith. Chin up. You are worth so much more than anything less than the very best thoughts and acts of kindness for YOU!
(The Real Cat Williamson on Quora)
You’re a sweet little cat just trying to take a nap, just minding your own business and doing “a thing” that makes absolute makes purrfect sense to you. After all, it is the quietest room in a houseful of constant chaos that you often enjoy and participate in, which is why you’re just trying to take the nap.
As you hop up on to your favorite spot, you notice that the crazy lady you live with who calls herself your “Ma” has put another bed on your bed, for what reason you just can’t fathom. So, you lay down beside it, and not inside it, because you like the bed under the bed on the bed just fine. Ahh! As you’re just about to drift off, you’re startled by the sound of the crazy lady snapping your picture and chirping in a high-pitched voice:
What are you doing, Good Cat, you silly little girl? Didn’t you see the cozy bed I put there for you to lay in, since I know it’s you’re your favorite spot in the house to nap? Why are you lying BESIDE it and not IN it?
Yes, Ma, I did see the cozy bed that you put here for me to lay in, and while I do so appreciate the gesture, I just want to lay in MY spot, the way I ALWAYS HAVE and ALWAYS WILL, unless or until I decide NOT to do! So, can I please just take my nap now?
If “the thing” you’re doing works for you and isn’t hurting anyone else, NEVER CHANGE IT unless YOU decide to change it … NOT because someone who thinks they know what’s best for you tries to make you. It’s called autonomy people! We’re entitled to live our lives in the manner that WE decide is best, even if “our thing” makes people uncomfortable.
You know what they say about advice and opinions, right? They’re like assholes, ’cause everybody has them! We ALL get a vote! We ALL get a journey! We ALL get to choose the bed we wanna lay in … good, bad, or somewhere in between … even if that bed makes no sense to anyone.
As for me and Good Cat? Although my heart was in the VERY right place today, THIS Momma Cat needed to stay in her own damn lane and let the princess take her ‘lil cat nap where she wanted to!
What’s great about this “love song” is that you can sing it to yourself whenever you need reminding to never change who you are for the sake of someone else unless you want to. If you’re lucky enough to be surrounded by people who love you as you are, be thankful. Not everyone is selfless enough to be allow others to be themselves in their world.
I’ve slept on both sides of this bed. Despite his imperfections and the wretched way he left us, never once during our season did he force or even ask me to change. He loved me as I was, “good Cat, bad Cat, and everywhere in between”, regardless of whether “my things” made sense, and just look who I’ve become!
Now, go take a nap wherever you damn well please, and never change (unless YOU want to)! Someday, someone brave is gonna say a thousand beautiful things about all the ways they feel about you and why “the things” you do made them fall in love with the “island of you”!
There’s a thousand things I’ve wanted to say but I’ve never been brave. No, I’ve never been brave. And you deserve the whole world. An island to yourself. You’re an island in yourself. And I think its time that I tell you how I feel. This is how I feel. And I get lost when I’m with you. And you’ll hear me say never change, baby. Stay the same, lady. Did I know for so long? Never change. There’s a hundred places I’ve wanted to see. Would you see them with me? Would you see them with me? And I don’t care where we go ”cause you are home. You are my home. And we can stay in cheap hotels. Lets just pay to entertain ourselves. And I get lost when I’m with you. And you’ll hear me say never change baby. Stay the same lady. Did I know for so long l? And I’m your man; hear me scream your name daily. Who I’ve known for so long. Never change. And I will take you with me everywhere I go. Pack your bags and leave it baby. I want you to know that loving you is easy. I thought I’d tell you so. And I want you to know: Never change baby. Stay the same lady. Did I move for so long? Never change baby. Stay the same lady. Did I move for so long? And I’m your man. Hear me Scream your name daily. Who I’ve known for so long. Never change.” {Picture This}
One thing you can do right now is go find a mirror, look inside it, and tell yourself over and over and over again that you deserve better than ANYTHING less than you’ve been told or programmed to believe about yourself. You have to learn to “Fly From The Inside” (my favorite song from a band called Shinedown), and you HAVE to take back your power and strength and SURVIVE! Just tell “pain and suffering” that they can LITERALLY go and SUCK it and don’t you DARE let all the darkness in this world beat you up! YOU beat the darkness up and PUNCH TODAY IN THE FACE!
YOU CAN DO THIS!
No one EVER deserves the power to make you feel as though this world doesn’t need you anymore. I promise.
(The Real Cat Williamson On Quora)
I wanted to share my response to a Quora submission I recently made. My excitement, however, is NOT about my pride over the staggering amount of “views, shares and comments”. It’s about the fact that SO many people from around the world are talking about it. You know? That very unpopular monster “IT”: Mental Illness. The awareness is spreading and the stigma is being reduced one “real conversation” at a time:
Hello my fellow Quorans. Please allow me a moment to generally respond to all of your overwhelmingly supportive and reflective comments and say THANK YOU! Although I have, indeed, and will continue to read each and every one of them, because there are only so many hours in the day, time will not permit that. So let me just say this: If there is a general consensus to be made here, it’s that this subject, “mental health”, and more so than that, what appears to be the very much declining mental health of a vast majority of the population, is something on ALL our minds these days. Rightfully so! Life isn’t as simple as it used to be, and I personally find it to be a rat race more than ever. Sadly, it does appear to be getting harder for even the strongest among us to just “exist”. Especially inasmuch as there is also that other general consensus if not “elephant in the room”, that the family system is truly breaking down. (See also, “Nowhere Kids“) To each his own” is NOT always the best way, to which as a digression I say this: Whatever your “family” looks like (because, yes, the “modern family picture” has changed), embrace it! If you have a “tribe”, no matter the different walks of life you all arrived from, cherish it! Protect it with all you have! We need each other folks! It is true … just look at this forum we’re all on. Look how this question has banded us all together “like a tribe”. Do you agree? It is highly likely that there aren’t a lot of us on this thread who are educated “medical professionals” with either psychiatric or psychology degrees. From what I can see, we’re all coming together this way with our own very personal, real, and first-hand knowledge of this subject. Call it “mental health awareness”, or, if you’d rather, just call it, “a bunch of broken people banding together to try and find a way either out of our own darkness or to try and find a way to help someone else out of theirs! In some circumstances, a forum such as this may be the ONLY resource someone has to try and find their way out of whatever Hell they’re living in. If you are on this site, chances are that you’re here because you just want to “know things” so that you can somehow help, too! Inquiring minds typically WANT to know and NEED to know for all the right reasons. We can learn from and feed off one another’s experiences so that we can then take “all of this” out THERE onto our own streets and try to make a difference. Even a TINY change in every our life cycles can make a difference! In my mind, I am nothing more and nothing less than anyone else. Do my life experiences matter? They sure as Hell do! But in the big scheme of things, I’m just so very small. My story? My husband’s story? YOUR stories? They’re but tiny blips on this infinite radar we call life. Small as I may be, I see myself as a pebble. I’m a pebble that’s been dropped in the ocean! Everything I do, think, or say is creating a ripple into a future that I myself may never see. We‘re ALL just pebbles my friends. Beautiful little pebbles with the power to change EVERYTHING if we just open our hearts and minds to the “bigger than us” perspective and share it. Thank you all for reading me. I have to be honest right now in saying that, yes, it’s been exactly 171 days since the one true love of my life put a gun to his head and turned my world literally upside down. I have long since made it my purpose with whatever days I am lucky enough to have left here of my own to try to be the BEST damn pebble I can possibly be, because it’s the right thing to do, and also, my kids are watching! All of your words and thoughts here have truly strengthened my faith, hope and spirit, and I am grateful. Imagine that? Thousands of random strangers from thousands of different places just lifted me, a random stranger, even higher out of my darkest hours than I thought was possible. If you are on this forum because you are indeed an “inquiring mind that just wants to know and help”, you’re a rock star and a pebble and my kind of vibe and TRIBE! We can all do this if we just stick together this way. We CAN make a difference. Much love to all of you. ROCK ON! Or is that “pebble on”? Hee!
(The Real Cat Williamson on Quora)
They say the beat of a butterfly’s wings can set off a storm a world away. What if they’re right and the smallest of things could power the strongest hurricane? What if it all begins inside? We’d hold the key that turns the tide. Just a pebble in the water can set the sea in motion. A simple act of kindness can stir the wildest ocean. If we show a little love. Heaven knows what we could change. So throw a pebble in the water and make a wave. The single choice to take us change. Have reached at your hand to someone in need? Don’t fool yourself and say you can’t. You never know what can grow from just one seed. So come with me and seize the day. This world may never be the same. Just a pebble in the water … can set the sea in motion. {Joe Jonas & Demi Lovato}
AUGUST 22, 2019: The night that changed everything for me and mine. It was the night my husband took his own life, and yes, I physically “felt it happen”. Sufficed to say that there are still so many parts of that night and what led up to it that are very unclear in my mind, as this trauma has obviously affected both me and our daughter in unimaginable and irreversible ways.
That being said, what I do clearly and vividly remember was sitting in a room alone trying to get a hold of myself and wrap my head around what was happening to my family. Then, at just before midnight, I felt it! I had an adrenalin dump and it felt like someone had punched me in the gut and knocked the wind out of me. I literally couldn’t breathe. The next morning, August 23rd, the police chief of our town came to find me in the hospital where our daughter was being treated for her own trauma and suicidal thoughts as a result of what he’d done. As he headed toward me with “that look” on his face, I already knew what he was going to say.
“Mrs. Williamson, we did, unfortunately, locate your husband in his car this morning with a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head. I am so sorry to inform you that he is in fact deceased.”
… which point I fell to the ground with a guttural wail that I’m told could be heard throughout the hospital. This was, in fact, the worst feeling I have ever had in my life before. Thank you for asking and I apologize if this was a little “heavy”.
{The Real Cat Williamson On Quora}
It was indeed a rainy day here in Dallas on February 5th. The kind that tends to make you want to just shut the world away. But then again, not so much. With cozy pajamas, fluffy slippers, an ox of a German Shepherd named Lord Williamson at my feet and three cats perched strategically out of his reach all around me? Yah, that’s my vibe! The night before I’d been directed to “Quora”, a question and answer style on-line forum that I’d never heard of.
So, after taking Gia to school I got home, made a giant cup of coffee and sat down to check it out. At first glance, I thought, “Wow, this could be interesting”, then I threw a quick profile together, circled back around to the home page, and this was the first question I saw:
What are the worst cases of mental illness you have ever seen?
Really? “Well okay then …”, and off I went (with the Twilight Zone music cued up in the background). This was my answer:
My own husband, Zachariah, who I lost to suicide August 22, 2019. He was the Godsend game changer for me and my my two kids, larger than life with a heart the size of an ocean, but had been abandoned by the “mother THING” that (not “who”) left him permanently at 18 months. While I suppose his “father” did the best he could with lack of parenting skills he had, but he was then and is still but a grown child himself, and even in his death has continued to just leave him behind. He was left alone for a majority of the time from a very young age, and his basic needs were never properly tended to. Eventually, even his siblings discarded him, too. We didn’t realize his ACS (Abandoned Child Syndrome) even existed until five years into our marriage, but once faced with the sobering truths of his traumatic childhood, every bit of strength and fortitude he’d managed to find and survive with in his life of solitude before finding us, the first and only real home and family he’d ever had, began slipping right out from under him. The abandonment issues that led to his mental illness were further complicated by the fact that for some unknown reason the mother was able to manage to have a maternal relationship with the older siblings she’d had with the same father, just not him. Again, his entire family left him on the proverbial “curb of life”. Not just the mother, but neither the father nor his siblings could be bothered with him. His two older brothers would often refer to him as the “Zack of shit”, and although he would laugh about in their presence, those words tortured and haunted him incessantly. This heartless, selfish, numbingly ice-cold and shallow brood of people literally broke his heart into pieces that could never be put back together.
There were demons living in the hole they burned into his soul we fought desperately to keep him from drowning in, but in the end, the demons won. In the last months of his life, it appeared that he was in the early stages of psychosis, if not schizophrenia. He’d been hearing voices, seeing things that weren’t there, missing blocks of time, and ultimately just vanished completely within himself. He said “he couldn’t feel anything anymore“, and honestly, we lost him months before he put that gun to his head. It was a living nightmare to witness and the worst kind of heartbreak to suffer. He died of a broken heart that led to his mental illness and suicide, but not before he hurt not only me, but even more so our daughter, VERY badly. The trauma that he bestowed upon her in his final psychosis and “separated from self” state of mind is beyond comprehension, barely fathomable, and one that may unfortunately take her own lifetime to heal and overcome.
I’ve been writing tirelessly about not only his, but my mental health journey as well, in “The Diary Of My Perfection“. I’d be honored if any of you would care to read, follow or share it, as it is now my mission to try and be a Light in other people’s darkness. In the meantime, thank you for the many kind words and vast support of this post. It means everything to me. I cannot let either his lost battle with mental illness, or anyone else’s for that matter, have been in vain.
(The Real Cat Williamson On Quora)
Once I’d completed and submitted it, it was time to switch gears to the work day that lied ahead, which I did, and soon thereafter I was out the door with absolutely no idea what, if anything, would become of my answer to the question. Keep in mind that throughout the day I had noticed the “push” notifications on my Quora app were beginning to skyrocket. NOT GONNA LIE … I was nervous! I kept thinking, “Oh no, what’s with all these notifications? 25, 50, 75, 100, 150? Have I upset, offended or pissed someone off? Have I invoked some drama with the masses? Holy shit! What the Hell? What have I done?” But I had so much going on that day that I couldn’t allow myself to open the app and look, for fear that what I may find would somehow distract, upset or topple me. So, I just went on with my day and anxiously waited until I got home to open the “Pandora’s Box” I was worried I had created.
When I finally got back to my desk that night, I took a deep breath and logged back on to the site. I WAS STUNNED! Much to my surprise, I’D found that my answer had been viewed upwards of 22,000 times, “upvoted” over 2,000 times, and responded to hundreds of times, with uplifting, supportive, and reflective comments such as this:
Thank you so very much for sharing this difficult journey with others. You may have just saved my life by giving me enough information to try to find a path out of my personal struggle. Until I read your post I had never heard of “abandoned child syndrome”. I now have SOMETHING that points to the root of my problems! NOW I’m starting to understand myself just a tiny bit more than I did 10 minutes ago. The question is now what can I do to start forging a different future? I am 50 years old and feel like a boat without ears, a sail, and a rudder. Or is it too late to try to move forward? I feel like it’s just too much and I’m way too tired to keep trying. Thank you for putting your grief into action and attempting to save other’s. I think I’m simply too old and tired …”.
Until I read your post I had never heard of “abandoned child syndrome”. I now have SOMETHING that points to the root of my problems! NOW I’m starting to understand myself just a tiny bit more than I did 10 minutes ago. The question is now what can I do to start forging a different future? I am 50 years old and feel like a boat without ears, a sail, and a rudder. Or is it too late to try to move forward? I feel like it’s just too much and I’m way too tired to keep trying. Thank you for putting your grief into action and attempting to save other’s. I think I’m simply too old and tired …”.
And there you have it! Confirmation that everything I’ve walked through and survived in my 50 years thus far is going to mean something so much bigger than I could possibly have ever foreseen to someone, somehow, some way, if I just keep on keeping on. Everything my husband had to walk through is going to have meant something bigger than even he was and I am going to make sure of it!
One of the things I loved most about Zack was his unrelenting generosity and heart for others. It was not uncommon for him to “give or do”, if not even to random strangers; the more he acquired, the more he gave away. We shared that in common, which is not to toot my horn right now, but rather, to make this point: Whenever we’d done something for someone else we would always “fist bump” or “high five” each other afterwards and smile. So, yah, after reading that comment above? I actually did pause as I turned to his picture on my desk and sent out my half of our “fist bump” to wherever he is in this cosmos. This is what I’m supposed to be doing! I know it. He knows it. God knows it! I’m just gonna keep staying “small” so all this can become so much “bigger” than either of us could have ever imagined. I feel so extremely blessed, happy, and even more determined to do whatever it is I’m supposed to do than I was before.
Yeah, yeah. What you got if you ain’t got love? The kind that you just want to give away? It’s okay to open up. Go ahead and let The Light shine through. I know it’s hard on a rainy day. You wanna shut the world out and just be left alone, but don’t run out on your faith! ‘Cause sometimes that mountain you’ve been climbing is just a grain of sand. And what you’ve been out there searching for forever is in your hands. And when you figure out love is all that matters after all it sure makes everything else seem so small. It’s so easy to get lost inside a problem that seems so big at the time. It’s like a river that’s so wide it swallows you whole. While you’re sitting around thinking about what you can’t change and worrying about all the wrong things, time’s flying by, moving so fast. You better make it count ’cause you can’t get it back. Sometimes that mountain you’ve been climbing is just a grain of sand. And what you’ve been out there searching for forever is in your hands. Oh, and when you figure out love is all that matters after all it sure makes everything else seem so small.“ {Carrie Underwood}
My own husband, Zachariah, who I lost to suicide on August 22, 2019. He was the Godsend game changer for me and my two kids, larger than life with a heart of gold, but had been abandoned by the “mother THING” that (not “who”) left him for good at 18 months. While I suppose his father did the best he could with the lack of parenting skills he had, he was then and is still but a child himself, and even managed to leave his son behind in death. Growing up, my husband was left alone frequently from a very young age, and his basic needs were never properly tended to. Eventually, even his siblings discarded him.
We didn’t realize his ACS (Abandoned Child Syndrome) even existed until five years into our marriage, but once faced with the sobering truths of his childhood, every bit of strength and fortitude he’d managed to find and survive with in his life of solitude before us, the first and only real home he’d ever had, began slipping right out from under him.
The abandonment issues that led to his mental illness were further complicated by the fact that for some unknown reason the “mother” managed to have a maternal relationship with the older siblings she’d had with the same father, just not him. Again, his entire family left him on the proverbial curb of life. Not just the mother, but neither his father or siblings could be bothered with him. His two older brothers would often refer to him as the “Zack of shit”, and although he would laugh about in their presence, those words haunted him incessantly. This heartless, selfish, and shallow brood of people shattered his heart into pieces that could never be fully put back together.
There were demons living in the hole they burned in his soul we fought desperately to keep him from drowning in, but in the end, the demons won. In the last months of his life, it appeared that he was in the early stages of some type of psychosis or schizophrenia. He’d been hearing voices, seeing things that weren’t there, missing blocks of time, and ultimately just vanished completely within himself. He said “he couldn’t feel anything anymore“, and honestly, we lost him MONTHS before he put that gun to his head. It was a living nightmare to witness and the worst kind of heartbreak to suffer. He literally died of a broken heart that led to his mental illness and suicide, but not before he hurt not only me, but even more so our daughter VERY badly. The trauma he visited upon her in his final “separated from self” state of mind is beyond comprehension, and one that may take her a lifetime to heal from.
I’ve been writing tirelessly about not only his, but my mental health journey as well, in “The Diary Of My Perfection“. I’d be honored if any of you would care to read, follow, or share it, as it is now my mission to try and be a Light in other people’s darkness. In the meantime, thank you for the many kind words and support of this post. It means everything to me. I cannot let either his lost battle with mental illness (or anyone else’s for that matter) have been in vain.
{The Real Cat Williamson On Quora}
Although I do believe it’s “possible” for childhood trauma to be “repaired”, I do not believe that the resulting residual or collateral damage can ever be “reversed”. Under optimal circumstances and with a healthy support system, if a person can first revisit, acknowledge, and accept the trauma itself, it is possible that they can then attain the coping skills and mechanisms necessary to carry them through their adulthood “if and when” the trauma rears it’s head. You can forgive, accept, acknowledge and even make peace with it … BUT … you can never forget or erase it. As an adult survivor of childhood trauma of my own, I speak from experience in this regard. Thankfully, however, I did.
Unfortunately, I also have first hand experience on the flip side of this coin; that is, “irreversible childhood trauma”. My husband, who I recently lost to suicide this past August 22, 2019, suffered from extreme childhood trauma that sadly proved to be the death of him. He was larger than life with a heart the size of an ocean, but had been thrown away like garbage by his “mother THING” at birth. She abandoned him permanently at 18 months, and although his father did the best he could, he was and still is nothing but a child himself. He was left alone frequently from a very young age and his basic needs were never properly attended to.
Unfortunately, he never even realized that his “Abandoned Child Syndrome” existed until five years into our marriage, but once he was faced with the sobering truths of his childhood, every bit of strength and fortitude he’d managed to muster and thus survive with in his life of solitude before us, the first and only real home and family he’d ever had, began to slip right out from under him. The abandonment issues that led to his mental illness were further complicated by the fact that not just his mother, but his entire family abandoned him. They literally shattered his heart into pieces that could never fully be put back together.
There were demons living inside of the hole the “mother” left inside his soul that he tried desperately to swim out of it. We tried desperately to keep him from drowning in it. In the end, the demons won. The last few months of his life it appeared as though he was in the early stages of some type of dissociative psychosis, if not schizophrenia. He’d been hearing voices, seeing things, missing “blocks of time”, and ultimately just disappeared inside himself. He said “he couldn’t feel anything anymore”, and honestly, we lost him months before he put that gun to his head. It was a living nightmare to watch and the worst kind of heartbreak to witness. I appreciate any of you who are reading this by the way. It’s tough to digest, much less conceive, but the truth nonetheless. His “traumatic childhood” LITERALLY “broke his heart”.
Facing yourself in the mirror, day after day, as a fake, a fraud and a murder. Yes, I believe that eating disorders are nothing less than murder attempts of OURSELVES. Please let me explain …
I am in my eighth year of recovery, after 19 years active. I overcame “my dragon” by “overcoming myself”. I had to find my own missing reflection in the mirror, which, was difficult, but I did it. I slayed her. The beast. “My dragon”. She could have killed me by the way, so yes, I was allowing this beast to try and MURDER me! Nothing more. Nothing less. This is something I wrote in May of 2008, the day I started my journey out of the cave she and I were living in. It’s long, but it is me, and it is real: “In The Light“
I sincerely hope this reaches anyone who is struggling with a dragon of their own find the strength and courage to FIGHT! PLEASE, my friends, FIGHT YOUR DRAGON! You can do it. Be strong. Pick up your swords. CUT HER AT THE NECK and walk away. Every single one of you deserves so much better than the DARK cave this thing has you sequestered in. You. Can. Do. This! … Cat (a/k/a “The Dragon Slayer“)
{The Real Cat Williamson On Quora}
Are you painting your self-portrait small with just a tiny “here and now” brush, or are you creating an EPIC masterpiece with MUCH broader strokes that even your grandkids’ grandkids will treasure? Are you living out loud with power, grace, passion, and purpose? Your children and THEIR children will reap EXACTLY what you sow, so, SHOW THEM everything you TELL THEM! And (ps), don’t forget to keep a journal or keepsake memorializing all the memories and highlights so you don’t leave your “here and now” as mystery or subject for debate. Leave your fingerprints on everything (but hopefully not bloody ones like the ones my husband’s “parents” left all over him and my “father” is leaving all over us.
But more so than anything …
Be honest with your kids! Talk to them! Spend time with them! Share what’s in your heart of hearts, what you stand for, and what you believe in (but don’t shove it down their throats). Let them know it’s okay, if not encouraged, to take a different path than you. Let them know that you DON’T want them to be your “mini-me”, but rather, “the first of THEM“. In the meantime …
To My Kids:
Please know how hard I’m trying to change the crooked trajectory of this family tree. Yes, I very much do want you to find new and different paths of your own and notbe “mini-me’s”. I want you to be the first and the last of both of you, and be brave enough to CHOOSE to be happy. More so than anything, I hope someday when the time has come, you’ll listed to this song and think of me, but know also that when I hear it now, I think of both of you. You are my legacy just as much I am yours.
(“Virtual Love Letters“)
The night before last I sent this message to one of Gia’s former teachers (so therefore I apologize for the “not so eloquentness” of it all). For the record, he wasn’t just “any teacher”; he’s her favorite teacher of all since starting school:
Hi Mr. M. I hope this message finds you well. Listen, I wanted to share something that happened with Gia this morning that directly involved YOU. I’m sure you are well aware of what happened last August; with my husband, with her. But keep in mind that even before that horrible cherry bomb went off on our family’s cake, she had been struggling for quite some years prior, which unfortunately, and without going into all the details, is a huge part of what ultimately took my husband down the way he went. But I digress …
In the year leading up to “August 22nd” Gia had been having severe depression and anxiety as a result of the PTSD that was in large part due to some things that were happening not only at home with “her real dad”, but there on the SMCS campus as well. My husband and I were both struggling to help keep her head above the water, but didn’t realize exactly HOW far under the water her head really was until November of 1998 (just after seventh grade began) when he was making his weekly “spot check” of her phone to see what she’d been doing on it. That was when he discovered she’d Googled, “I don’t want to live anymore” and “how do I stop not wanting to kill myself”. Our world crashed down. HIS WORLD CRASHED DOWN! Gia was everything to him, and the thought of “losing her” was just something he couldn’t bear after the lifetime of literal abandonment he’d suffered through. (His mother put him in a trash can the day he was born … his story wrote itself from there.)
Meanwhile, fast forward to last night. Gia and I are both knee deep in “our process”. I’m working full-time know to bring awareness about so many different things that I myself have suffered through. Part of my process is a blog I started to expose the diary / manuscript I’d been keeping for YEARS about my life and all its “secrets”. This morning my post was about a song I’ve been listening to incessantly for the past 5 months. Probably every day. But it always makes me cry so I never listen to it in front of her. Keep also in mind that a large part of my entire LIFE’S process has been through music and how it has helped me successfully access emotions and parts of myself that I never really knew were broken, or, that I just couldn’t find the words to explain, either to myself or anyone else. In fact, one of the things that I am planning to use in my up and coming “Trauma Coaching” endeavor is “music therapy”. I’ve been doing this with both of my kids for the longest time, as well as a few kids I’ve “adopted” along the way. I ask each of them to send me a song every Friday morning that lets either me or their own selves know how they are feeling. And this his how what happened this morning links back to you …
She stayed home from school today because she’d been having a pretty rough day emotionally, and well, she just wanted to be with me. So, when I was in my office this morning posting this blog, I of course had the song playing in the background. She came around the corner right at that moment and just stopped. She looked a little confused even. I asked her what was wrong and she started to cry. Then she sat down on the couch beside me and started to explain. “Mom, I’ve heard this before, and it just hit me like a ton of bricks. It was in Mr. Michniak’s class when we were doing his music thing.” So, I asked her “What music thing”? Then, she explained. I was on the floor.
As it turns out, her tears were good, cathartic ones. She said that she specifically remembered the day you played that for them and how it really did reach her somewhere inside all her darkness. It left a small anchor in her heart that I guess she didn’t realize she needed as much as she did. She went on to say, however, that as bad as she feeling at that time, the song did “make her pause and think”, about God, and her life, and it gave her a little hope that somehow she was going to be okay.
After this conversation, we listened to the song again and I just held her. We were both sobbing. What you did that day? Or any of the days you’ve “done the music thing”. It’s precious, and a gift, and if ONLY it ever helped ONE child whose path you’ve crossed see a glimmer of light inside their darkness? Well, it was my kid. And I cannot thank you enough. You are a special person and please know how truly special this morning was for us today and how YOU unknowingly played a part of it by simply “doing the music thing” with our kids.
Have a blessed day please, and here’s the link to my post and my blog. Wouldn’t hate if you decided to follow it. I’m really trying to use our story for the betterment of others. Thank you Mr. M!
So, let me explain “the music thing”: He plays random songs in class for them to listen to, quietly reflect on, then write about how they made them feel. It’s what I’ve been doing with my own kids for years. As I said in my “Nettie” post this week, I first began the “music thing” with Christian when he was 16. Now, I do it with Gia … and her friend Caleb … as well as a couple of other kids (some of who are now adults) I’ve taken into my heart over the years. I’ve gotten songs from “my kids” at all hours of the day and night over the last 11 years and one of the best parts of my existence. Knowing that they trust me with the vulnerabilities and the secret places they travel in their own hearts and minds means everything to me.
For the record, his response this morning left me speechless. It reminded me yet again that everything is connected somehow and part of a much bigger picture; one that I may never see the finishing strokes and signature on in my own lifetime. Seeds are being planted. People are being purposed. Everything and everyone in our lives is strung together and I will NEVER be convinced otherwise.
Once I asked Gia “why is he your favorite teacher”, and her arbitrary response just became crystal clear to me. She said, “He’s just special. He’s teaches us so much more than academic stuff. He teaches us about life stuff. I don’t know; there’s something just special about him. He cares and really wants to make a difference. He reminds me a lot of you actually.” So with that, not only am I honored that this incredible man, teacher and mentor that God put in my daughter’s path was so taken by my message to him, but even more so am I honored that my daughter correlates me with him. Not the worst thing ever – being compared to such a wise “influencer”. (PS) Gotta love this song that he was talking about in his message, because yes, Gia and I can both appreciate it. We are “overcomers”!
But alas, the “take down” was only temporary, as are all things in this life, am I right? I’d been doing so well until tonight. I know you all have seen it, and, indeed, it is true, that I am powering my way through all this wreckage like the true and risen QUEEN I’m becoming.
I heard this song for the first time tonight at about 5:30pm while I was driving through a parking lot running errands, at which point I fell apart so badly that I had to literally pull my car into a space and just cry … and cry … and cry … AND CRY. I was literally sitting in my car for two hours SOBBING, kinda like that time I was taken down in my own garage! Eventually, I made myself get it together, hit the gym, and GET UP on the treadmill thinking that would somehow calm me down. And? It did! For exactly one hour and ten minutes, I turned up the Death Punch and made myself stop being sad.
Meanwhile, when I got back home and walked into our closet it started all over again. I’m not gonna lie, folks. THIS IS HARD! I miss him so much … every second of every day … and sometimes I just walk to his side of the closet and “hug his clothes” that are still hanging there so I can smell them.
One half of my person and everything I used to be is just GONE! One of the sweet friends I’d reached out to for support wisely pointed out to me that I probably “needed” this to happen. I NEEDED TO CRY! She was right … I did. Even still, GRIEF SUCKS! It makes no sense whatsoever. It’s as if he went to God and actually said these words, to Him … about me … because knowing him the way that I do, these are the very words he would say to anyone right now if he could actually say something. “Please just hold her for me.”
Tomorrow will be a new day, of this I’m all too sure. In the meantime, might I just repeat: GRIEF SUCKS! I know God is holding me … right now … this minute … as I’m writing this. I can feel Him. Zack is here with me, too. I can feel him. But, GRIEF SUCKS! Goodnight everyone. Please keep me in your hearts and prayers tonight because I am really struggling.
She was holdin’ on so tight, but I had to say goodbye. She’s all alone tonight. There’s nothin’ I could do to make it right Is it ever gonna be, ever gonna be brighter? Is it ever gonna be, ever gonna be easier? Hold her tonight. Oh, God, would you hold her tonight? ‘Cause I’m not there to stay close Keep watch, tell her she’s not alone. Hold her tonight. We’re apart but not alone. My love for her is more than she could know. A secret place only we can go, and we’ll laugh while we will hope until we’re home. Is it ever gonna be, ever gonna be brighter? Is it ever gonna be, ever gonna be easier? Hold her tonight. Oh, God, would you hold her tonight? ‘Cause I’m not there to stay close, keep watch, tell her she’s not alone. Hold her tonight. Steady on, steady on, my love. This shall soon pass. Steady on, steady on, my love. This shall soon pass. Steady on, steady on, my love. This shall soon pass. Steady on, steady on, my love Hold her tonight. Oh, God, would you hold her tonight? ‘Cause I’m not there to stay close, keep watch, tell her again she’s not alone. Hold her tonight. Hold her tonight. Oh, God, would you hold her tonight? ‘Cause I’m not there to stay close. Keep watch, tell her she’s not alone. Stay close, keep watch, tell her she’s not alone. Hold her tonight. (King & Country)
This one’s for my fallen king … and my son … and my daughter … and myself … and anyone in my atmosphere who is now or has ever struggled just to keep your head above the water. It’s so hard to swim when the entire weight of the world seems to be resting upon your shoulders. This is I know too well! I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again:
So, with that: Chin up! Knuckles out! Head held high! Fight the good fight!
Just,
Keep,
Breathing.
And remember …
Wide awake while the world is sound asleepin’. Too afraid of what might show up while you’re dreamin’. Nobody, nobody, nobody sees you. Nobody, nobody, nobody would believe you. Every day you try to pick up all the pieces. All the memories, they somehow never leave you. Nobody, nobody, nobody sees you. Nobody, nobody, nobody would believe you. God only knows what you’ve been through. God only knows what they say about you. God only knows how it’s killing you. But there’s a kind of love that God only knows. God only knows what you’ve been through. God only knows what they say about you. God only knows the real you. There’s a kind of love that God only knows. There’s a kind of love that. There’s a kind of love. You keep a cover over every single secret. So afraid if someone saw them, they would leave. But somebody, somebody, somebody sees you. Somebody, somebody will never leave you. God only knows what you’ve been through. For the lonely, for the ashamed. The misunderstood, and the ones to blame. What if we could start over? We could start over. We could start over. Oh, for the lonely, for the ashamed. {for King & Country}
The Diary Of My Perfection 