… to this very day and minute, October 5, 1982, 9:51am, not only I and my children, but this world as a whole received one of the most beautiful gifts I never knew I would have until that moment our eyes locked so many years later in October of 2008.
It was written in the stars, on the pages of my heart, oh that someday I would find the love I feel for you … On the ocean of our dreams, like a prayer you came to me. And the longing that had been found its ending in your eyes …
There are no words to describe the bittersweet emotions I am raw with at this moment. “One man’s trash really IS another man’s treasure“, and God Himself knows this is true. She may have thrown you away, but you were indeed my greatest treasure, other than those I have given birth to myself. HAPPY BIRTHDAY ZACHARIAH. Your battle is finally over.
Dearest Cat: If he were still here and standing right in front of you right now, what would he be saying? Wouldn’t it probably have sounded a little something like this? Couldn’t have this could have been his song?
SO HERE’S MY DAILY PSA TO ME AND ANYONE READING THIS:
Don’t ever look back in the agony of regret of any kind, as not a single good thing can be gained from it. Sift through your wreckage in search of only the gifts, beauty and strengths you “got to earn”(not “had to learn”) from being hurt, broken, let down and disappointed in even the most egregious ways. The best day in your life will be when you finally look up and thank God for all of it – most ESPECIALLY all the bad stuff. Trust me when I tell you that the taller the shadow of devastation that looms behind you the more powerful and precious even the smallest of shiny treasures waiting on the road ahead of you will be!
Mother, tell me, I long to hear the stories, just like long ago. All these memories start to fade before me. I cannot let them go. No, I can’t let them go. From the cradle to the grave. It’s a fear I can’t escape. Who will be my hiding place when you’re gone? Father, stay here, don’t leave me like the other. Know, I need you so. All you gave me. Father, how you loved me. Treated like your own. Don’t ever let me go. From the cradle to the grave. It’s a fear I can’t escape. Who will be my hiding place when you’re gone? There’s no way to deny the brevity of life. As time keeps marching on, all we have is lost. All we have is lost. Nothing lasts forever. Nothing stays the same … How am I to carry on as time keeps marching on? {Alter Bridge}
… you finally get that call from the school to come and get her because it’s finally registered that he’s never coming home again and she’s absolutely beside herself. For reasons I cannot say, and only a handful of you can truly understand, this IS a miracle of epic proportion. My daughter’s strength, grace and ability to separate the truth from even the worst of Satan’s lies just befalls me. Her courage puts mine to shame on even my best of days and I have to tell you, SHE is the one who will ultimately be flipping the proverbial game board which is our life not just upside down but all over the place once and for all! She’s the game changer, not me! God has had His hands literally wrapped around her heart all the while and I can NOT thank Him enough for what is happening in our atmosphere today. Honey, are you seeing this? I TOLD YOU! We love, miss and STILL cherish you Zachariah. “From the cradle to the grave” … stay with us please. Always.
I remember this post so well. We closed our eyes that night feeling so grateful for all the ways we had learned the very hard way which “things” mattered, and which did not. The bittersweet irony is that today the principal behind this post still rings true, and in fact, resonates even louder. On “August 22nd at just before midnight” he had every “thing” a man could ever want and had positioned us such that not a single dream was out of reach. But as you can see, no number of “things” could fill the gaping hole in his heart left by “the thing” that gave birth to him that he ultimately ended up drowning in. It’s a sad and sobering truth. “Things” are nice, I’m not gonna lie, and as of this moment I too have more than an abundance of “things” in my possession.
I WOULD GIVE IT ALL AWAY IN A SECOND IF I COULD GO BACK AND CHANGE THE WAY OUR STORY ENDED!
I’ve said it before and will say it again: I could have lived in that little apartment in Fairview with him forever … that’s how much he meant to me. It wasn’t about all the “things” we got; it was about the life we made. The heart, soul, love and devotion he put into everything he did for us without any strings or conditions for the first time in my entire existence. No amount of money in the world can buy such a treasure as that. It was priceless.
Exactly one year ago this morning Zack and I were sitting in a hotel lobby in Paris waiting for a shuttle to come schlep us to the airport for our flight home to Dallas. “So, where are we going next”, he asked me. One trip to Europe and literally could NOT wait to plan our next adventure. He was hooked! After having spent the entire morning considering the possibilities, we were split down the middle: Ireland? Switzerland? Kids? No kids? What to to do, what to do? BEFORE WE’D MADE IT TO THE AIRPORT he had already called Globus to book our trip to Switzerland for my 50th, and within a week of getting home he had the Ireland trip for “all of us” booked as well. My point is this: Life just threw us a curveball that no one ever “really” saw coming. And this my friends, IS LIFE. Each day, wait, no, each second we are allowed to spend here with our souls in these flesh and bone bodies just turning and burning, living like there’s no tomorrow and making plans for the future is a gift. So I beg you all: If what happened to our family hasn’t already made you “stop, look and listen” and take serious stock of your life, please, DO IT NOW! One month ago today? Although, yes, there had been signs, and yes, we had been fighting for months against the demons that were devouring him, I THOUGHT WE HAD MORE TIME!
Unfortunately, I’ve learned all too well by now that everything can change in an instant, but the most powerful wisdom I’ve ”earned” is knowing it really is all about forgiveness, acceptance, empathy, understanding, and finding our “power and grace“.
My husband hurt us so badly. His actions spoke louder than the even the angriest words I’ve heard in my lifetime, and trust me, prior to life with Zack, I’d heard more than my fair share of less than optimal “words”. There are things that may be revealed throughout the course of time in both mine and Gia’s journey that may surprise, confuse and outrage you. Zack wasn’t “Zack” the night he left us. He was someone else. Some “thing” else. Two beings in one body … an angel battling a demon. As dramatic as that may sound, please understand me when I say this: His choices, actions, and final bat-shit fucking crazy blow devastated us in unspeakable ways. Even still, in in case you haven’t figured it out by now, I have forgiven him for everything, and did so within seconds of knowing he was gone, which for the record, although his death certificate reads “Found August 23, 2019”, I physically felt him leaving here at just before midnight on August 22nd. I know with every shred of my being and will NEVER be convinced otherwise that was the moment he pulled the trigger.
That forgiveness wasn’t just for me, by the way, it was also very much for him. So often in life we are put in positions wherein there is “forgiveness that needs to be given”, but for whatever reason the “person” or “thing” that hurt us is either undeserving of our forgiveness or otherwise “unavailable” for being forgiven (meaning they are dead, in jail, otherwise absent from our life, or simply unwilling or incapable of validating or acknowledging even a shred of the pain or suffering they caused us. In some cases, as in mine and Gia’s, it could be a little of all of the above. These are the times, therefore, when you may perhaps have heard it said, and IT IS SO TRUE:
FORGIVENESS IS FOR US, NOT FOR THEM!
Forgiveness releases us from a self-inflicted prison of anger, hate, toxicity, and resentment when we become victims of the unkind acts of others.
Some have probably argued that what Zack did to us was indeed “unforgivable”. But you see, I have known all too well since the day that precious man’s eyes first met with mine that he was suffering within himself all the days of his life, EVEN DURING HIS BEST YEARS WITH US. Knowing that he lived each day with that gaping hole inside his heart tortured me too. There is a line from one of my favorite movies that has resonated in my mind since I lost him:
That boy, Frank, he lives inside of his own heart. That’s an awful big place to live in.
The movie was Slingblade, and we watched it together often. I cannot tell you how many times I saw tears rolling down his cheeks when he heard those words being said, as that is exactly where he lived the majority of HIS life – “inside of his own heart”. And, yes, it truly was an awful big place to live in. I am so thankful that my husband is finally at peace now, and I absolutely know that he is.
Last night while at dinner with a dear friend, a miracle started happening. Gia is starting to talk about him. Finally. For the first time since “that night”. Up until yesterday, SHE DIDN’T WANT TO HEAR HIS NAME! And not only was she talking about him, but my friend later pointed something out to me that I didn’t really pick up on until she said it:
Catherine, in all our conversation tonight, I couldn’t help but notice that she kept referring to Zack as her dad and her dad as her father.
And that my friends, is perhaps the defining moment of her process. The more time that passes, it is becoming very clear that she too is going to forgive him for everything he did, taking only the best parts of him into her future, and leaving out all the rest! The father-daughter bond they shared before he lost his mind? Nothing is going to erase it! She is her mother’s daughter, so, I guess something I’m doing with her is working. As for me? I know exactly what I want my own legacy to be one day when I, too, have to leave for The Brighter Side Of Grey, and from what I am starting to see, it’s already living out loud through her.
… that fourth Friday night without him in over eleven years, and “God only knows how many Friday nights” since November 8, 1996, when I attempted suicide myself.There’s no telling “how many more Fridays” will have to pass by before my baby girl will be out of the danger zone with “ideations” of her own after the virtual Hell she is still living through for reasons I cannot say!
From this point going forward, I will be here for as many nights as I’m allowed to live to faithfully remind the unsuspecting masses that THERE IS ALWAYS SOMEONE LISTENING by doing exactly as Zack would always tell me to:
Catherine, USE YOUR WORDS!
LULLABYE
I know the feeling of finding yourself stuck out on the ledge. And there ain’t no healing from cuttin’ yourself with the jagged edge. I’m tellin’ you that it’s never that bad, and take it from someone who’s been where your at. You’re laid out on the floor and you’re not sure you can take this anymore. So just give it one more try with a lullaby and turn this up on the radio. If you can hear me now I’m reachin’ out to let you know that you’re not alone. And you can’t tell I’m scared as hell ’cause I can’t get you on the telephone. So just close your eyes … Well honey here comes a lullaby. Your very own lullaby. Please let me take you out of the darkness and into The Light. ‘Cause I have faith in you that you’re gonna make it through another night. Stop thinkin’ about the easy way out. There’s no need to go and blow the candle out. Because you’re not done, you’re far too young and the best is yet to come. Well everybody’s hit the bottom. And everybody’s been forgotten. Well everybody’s tired of being alone. Yeah everybody’s been abandoned. And left a little empty handed. So if you’re out there barely hangin’ on … just give it one more try with a lullaby and turn this up on the radio. {Nickelback}
If you can hear or see me from wherever you are, and I’m surviving right now due in large part to my true faith that that you can, I want you to know that I love you. I Miss you.I FORGIVE YOU. I would NOT have made it to this crossroad in my journey without you, and you and I both know it’s true. I will never forget you, or replace you, nor dishonor, disgrace or disassemble the infinite trove of tools, gifts, strengths, and beauty that you and ONLY YOU had the patience, courage and foresight to help find buried deep within myself. You helped me find my reflection in a mirror where I once only saw a faceless monster, and turned me into a queen. That, my king, is something only you shall get the credit for. You refused to give up on me no matter how hard I made you try, and not a day will go by while I’m roaming this earth without you that I won’t pray to God that you’re STILL behind me silently pushing me like only you can do. There is so much work to be done here now, and I’m going to make you proud while my life continues to go on. Every day for the rest of my life I will count these darkened ashes piled beneath our feet and rise so far above them that it will be IMPOSSIBLE for them not to hear “our” voices.
If my wish has come true, you’ve safely made it to The Brighter Side Of Grey with your broken heart in one piece to The One parent whose intention was never to forsake you through all the loneliness and heartache you suffered in your lifetime. I’m hoping that not only have you gone and found my daughter by now, but that you’ve also caught up with that handsome Cajun boy you heard so much about who stole the first real piece of my heart and rode off with it in his “blaze of glory”. Don’t think that I will EVER forget how you not only welcomed him and everything he was, but even more so embraced him for all that I was because of what he’d brought into my world and let me carry him on our journey together. Few are the men that are capable of such selflessness and living with my ghosts the way that you did is one of the things I’ve thanked God for the most.I know that you’ll all be waiting hand in hand for me until I get there, a moment I literally picture in my mind quite often. So, until that day comes when I can see you all again, I love you more than words. Forever. Eternally. Unconditionally.
~ Catherine
BECAUSE YOU LOVED ME
For all those times you stood by me. For all the truth that you made me see. For all the joy you brought to my life. For all the wrong that you made right. For every dream you made come true. For all the love I found in you. I’ll be forever thankful baby. You’re the one who held me up and never let me fall. You’re the one who saw me through through it all. You were my strength when I was weak. You were my voice when I couldn’t speak. You were my eyes when I couldn’t see. You saw the best there was in me. Lifted me up when I couldn’t reach. You gave me faith ’cause you believed. I’m everything I am because you loved me. You gave me wings and made me fly. You touched my hand I could touch the sky. I lost my faith; you gave it back to me. You said no star was out of reach. You stood by me, and I stood tall. I had your love I had it all. I’m grateful for each day you gave me. Maybe I don’t know that much, but I know this much is true. I was blessed because I was loved by you. You were always there for me. The tender wind that carried me. A light in the dark shining your love into my life. You’ve been my inspiration. Through the lies you were the truth. My world is a better place because of you.” {Celine Dion}
At exactly 8am this morning we were supposed to be taking off on our flight to tour Switzerland for my 50th birthday. Lucerne was to be our first night and our last, and one of the things I was most looking forward to sharing with him was ”the lion” … the one that I myself stood before some 19 years prior while having the first of my many to follow “moments” while traveling.
Like Zack, I, too, was trapped inside the prison of my own mind at the time in a dark and lonely chasm where I was alive but not really living. So many of my realities back then were nothing more than lies and I but a walking farce. I vividly remember that day as the group I was with headed up a tree-lined path towards “something spectacular” our tour guide was excited to show us. I was looking down at my schedule, not paying much attention, and almost ran in to the person standing in front of me when the group suddenly stopped and turned to look across the pond at “him”.
The Lion of Lucerne is rock relief carved into the cliff face of a sandstone that was sculpted during the early part of the 19th century to commemorate the Swiss Guards who lost their lives in 1792 during the French Revolution. Yet, as I paused to gaze upon him, I saw so much more than just a fallen soldier. It was in that very moment that I began feeling the plethora of emotions I’d been suppressing behind a fraudulent smile to protect not only myself, but my children especially, from the wreckage to come when I finally started letting it all go.
The Lion. Just look at him lying there slain inside that wall. A beast of many burdens, lifeless and alone, with only the precious secrets he’d carried within his heart. Weak and weary. Tired and spent. Worn out, solemn, and vacant. Life had its way with him, and now he’s but a corpse of some unknown past he’d once lived, the demons that had devoured him, and the countless private dreams he’d dreamt that never were to be. Despite his years of his perceived magnificence, he is, ”no longer”.
Connecting with him in that one still moment screamed to me in ways that I have yet been able to fathom, but what I can tell you this. That was, indeed, the turning point at which I truly began to “feel” the pain from the broken, jagged, silent pieces that had been cutting me from within all the while. Both my stomach and my heart were aching so badly that I literally couldn’t breathe. Yet, it was without question one of the most beautiful moments of my life.
The Lion is me. The Lion is my husband. He is any and everyone who is now or has ever had the daunting task of wandering lost inside their own lonely head and heart just waiting for the day that they’re finally allowed to die.
So, with that, as I finish this post, I think I’ve made a decision. Someday, I will go on to Lucerne and offer some of his ashes to the pond beneath my Lion. It’s what I need to do, and I will when the time is right. In the meantime, I’ll just continue to rise from not just the ashes of his remains, but my own as well, and pray God that I’ll see the beauty that is surely yet to rise up out of them.
Well, I’m sitting in front of her new school waiting for her to come out, and if today is anything like the first three days this week, she’ll have a smile on her face from ear to ear. For the record, the entrance ramp you see in the picture is the same one Zack traversed when he, too, went to Bowman! The little house he grew up in is just a few blocks away from the the park in my rearview mirror, and as I sit here, I can see the faint traces of the younger him barreling out those doors headed straight for that park. A sweet, blonde-haired, blue-eyed boy lost deep in a world of solitude, ever so unaware that the feet that were carrying him were already set upon a dark and broken path of “left to his own defenses”.
Despite the nine years we had him healthy, happy, and somewhat whole, Zack’s descent truly began here at Bowman two years ago when we were searching for proof he existed on paper as a child and finally get him a proper birth certificate and a passport.
This Place.
Sitting in the very office where Gia and I sat last Friday to “fake enroll her” (with the intention of online school to finish her 8th grade year) was where Zack and I sat waiting to find that, no, there was no record of him there. Although we were lucky to find two pictures of him later that day at Memorial Elementary, the brutal reality burned him like salt on his soul. Still … the irony! The very place he began falling apart as an adult is where she is coming together as a child. We didn’t choose Bowman intentionally. It just happens that this is the Plano ISD middle school our address feeds to. It was mere coincidence. Or was it? He’s with her here now, I just know it!
Her decision to leave St. Marks wasn’t hard. It wasn’t the school itself; it’s great and I’m proud that my kids have that legacy. Although I won’t go into the dramatics, because that story will be a chapter to itself, let me say this: The particular class she was with year after year (most notably, the girls) bears the distinction as having one the cruelest lot of mean kids in the school’s history.
Worse yet, “real dad” began dating the mother of her best friend, both of whom embarked upon a campaign to literally destroy both mine and Gia’s reputations through words and deeds tantamount only to assault: Bullying, belittling, ostracizing, isolating, threatening, manipulating, and even blackmailing and slander. He’s still dating her, by the way, despite the trauma she and her spawn bestowed upon my daughter.
Gia spent the last five years feeling so alone on that campus, hard pressed to find but a handful of real friends. For the most part, her “friends” saw her as a revolving door, taking or leaving her to best suit their own needs, such that on her birthday this year? She was checking her phone every ten minutes to see if any of “her tribe” remembered the day she was born(much like every October 5th when Zack would check his phone every ten minutes to see if his people remembered him).
Before he left us and hurt her VERY BADLY, she was already damaged and fragile. Her “tribe”? Those girls she stood by loyally and faithfully? The ones she always showed up for, stood up for, and stood behind? The ones whose lockers she made sure were jam packed with treats on their special days? They showed her just what she meant to them on July 18th: NOTHING! No texts. No calls. No cards. NO. THING!
I call them “my girls”. My dauthter’s friends are my daughters, too. That’s how it’s always been in my house. She’s got a knack for picking amazing girls to surround herself … now, put it this way. She hasn’t always been so good at that, but she’s got a really good tribe now, and these are her tribe for the long haul. I’m thinking that the people that she has in her life right now are gonna be her people 40 years from now. I can tell! But anyway, I’ve digressed.
On the first day of school this year, she cried her fucking eyes out when she got in the car. “Still nothing mom.” You see, she’d decided to err on the benefit of doubt:
Well, it WAS summer, so, maybe THAT’S why they forgot. Surely, they’ll say happy BELATED birthday when they see me on the first day of school?
You haven’t LIVED until you’ve seen such a beautiful face and equally beautifully heart reduced to such pain at the hands of the “tribe” she thought she belonged to. After all they KNEW she’d already been through, and after all the storms she weathered for and with them? They threw her away like yesterday’s trash and shattered her glass heart into pieces.So, when she was finally released from the hospital and the school decision had to be made, there wasn’t a doubt in her mind:
Mom, I don’t belong there anymore and you know it. Please don’t make me go back.
So, today I just know she’ll be coming out of that school with a smile! SHELOVES IT HERE! It’s only been three days, and she’s had offers to sit at seven lunch tables. SHE HAS FRIENDS! I’m telling you people … HE’S WITH HER IN THOSE HALLWAYS, I can feel it in my soul!
TO HER “TRIBE” AND THE TREES YOU FELL FROM:
None of you was ever good enough for her, so, thank God she finally saw it, because QUEENS don’t take scraps from anyone! I’d say I’m sorry that her overwhelming shadow kept the light off your bottom-feeder faces, but yah, NO! While we’ve forgiven you for everything, never will we forget! I promise we won’t be laughing from her perch at the top of EVERYTHING as you desperately flail around on the surface-level ground you will remain on as you’re looking up at my daughter’s presence and choking on THIS truth: Lions don’t concern themselves with the opinions of the sheep.
… when it’s been 21 days since the king of your heart fell off his throne after a lifetime of battling the darkness that became him after his “mother THING” all but threw him away the day that he was born and you’re finally able to open his phone for the first time looking for any answers you can find. Then, there it is, right in front of your sobbing eyes … his “daily affirmation”. He really was “doing the best that he could”. I know it in my heart. God please let him finally be resting in peace.
What most people don’t know is that Williamson either sent or brought me flowers literally once a week from the day we got married, November 1, 2010. Initially, they were just a simple store bought bouquet or a single rose, but as his many successes ensued, the weekly deliveries became “whatever he felt like sending” from his partner in the crime, and sometimesto the random places I went. He had already warned me that I should be prepared for a house filled with “50 arrangements for his birthday girl” the week before my birthday since we were supposed to be getting on a plane to Switzerland on my birthday.
Catherine, there will be SO many flowers in this house that you won’t be able to walk through the house.
So, I just counted, and you WON’T believe how many arrangements are in this house. Yup. THERE ARE 50! In the foyer, in the kitchen, in the bathrooms, in our bedroom. Everywhere. They’re EVERYWHERE!
Thank you to everyone who unknowingly became cohorts in his “50 arrangements for my birthday girl” plan. I feel surrounded by both love and so many beautiful ironies today in the midst of all this grey.
And if I should fall, will it all go away?
No, my king, it shall never go away. I’ve been kissed by a rose on the grey.
KISS FROM A ROSE
There used to be a greying tower alone on the sea. You became the light on the dark side of me. Love remained a drug that’s the high and not the pill. But did you know that when it snows my eyes become large and the Light that you shine can be seen? Baby, I compare you to a kiss from a rose on the grey. Ooh, the more I get of you, the stranger it feels, yeah. Now that your rose is in bloom, a Light hits the gloom on the grey. There is so much a man can tell you, so much he can say. You remain my power, my pleasure, my pain. Baby, to me, you’re like a growing addiction that I can’t deny. Won’t you tell me, is that healthy, baby? And if I should fall, will it all go away? I’ve been kissed by a rose on the grey. {Seal}
May the endless tears he cried for ALL of you – his “family” – darken every day of your SELFISH lives and the shadow of his beautiful face staring back at you when you look in your otherwise EMPTY mirrors never cease to remind you of the “ZACK OF SHIT” you threw away! THIS is how you “loved” …
To learn more about the lifelong and often irreversible effects on children abandoned by their “mothers”:
So this is it. I say goodbye to this chapter of my ever-changing life. And there’s mistakes. The path is long. And I’m sure I’ll answer for them when I’m gone. So when the day comes and the Sun won’t touch my face, tell the ones who cared enough that I finally left this place that’s been so cold. Look at my face. All the stories it will tell I can’t erase. The road is long. Just one more song. A little something to remind you when I’m gone. When I’m gone. The road to hell along the way is paved with good intentions so they say. And some believe that no good deed goes unpunished in the end or so it seems. So when the day comes and the Sun won’t touch my face, tell the ones who cared enough that I’ve finally left this place that’s been so cold. Look at my face. All the stories it will tell I can’t erase. The road is long. Just one more song. A little something to remind you when I’m gone. So this is it. I say goodbye to this chapter of my ever-changing life. And there’s mistakes. The path was long. And I’m sure I’ll answer for them when I’m gone. When I’m gone.{Staind}
Like a scream inside, the one you just can’t hide. The sound so deafening, you can’t hear yourself think. As real as real can get. Keeping my heart in check from feeling anything but my own apathy. Again, again. It’s creeping up on me. Making it harder to breathe. We’re all under pressure. Can’t stand the weather. For the worse and not for the better. Please, this ain’t the way to live. Something’s got to give. We forgive but don’t forget it, no. Another day, another battle. We all have a cage to rattle. This just might be the death of me. Might be the death of me. It’s reached a fever pitch. I’m living proof of it. I find it hard to cope, without a thread of hope. Blood is thicker than water. But love is even stronger. Hold out a little longer. Until we found ourselves. Again, again. Like a scream inside, the one you just can’t hide. The sound so deafening, you can’t hear yourself think. As real as real can get. {Daughtry}
There you stood in disbelief, trying all you could to see through these lies. And every word that I could breathe would find you more inclined to leave, but I tried. I tried. And knowing what I’ve done to you … with every thought you suffer through … my heart as black as evil can. And everything I could have been … erased by what I wanted then …I couldn’t think a lesser man.
So, now I reap what I have sown and any rapture I had shown has bled dry. And I walked the streets alone, accepting pain I’d never known as you died. You died. Then I hurt myself to see it, too … to feel the knife put in you … my heart as broken as my ways. I never should’ve let it pass … this fall was never meant to last … the reason gone and damage stays.
All the delicate ways that I deepened our graves. My apology pales.
Oh, the pain in your eyes … my regrets have never known such sorrow. Oh, the shame that you hide … resolutions are the same tomorrow.
I have nothing left to give. I have found the perfect end. You were made to make it hurt. Disappear into the dirt. Carry me to heaven’s arms. Light the way and let me go. Take the time to take my breath. I will end where I began. And I will find the enemy within ’cause I can feel it crawl beneath my skin. Dear Agony: Just let go of me. Suffer slowly. Is this the way it’s got to be? Dear Agony. Suddenly the lights go out. Let forever drag me down. I will fight for one last breath. I will fight until the end. And I will find the enemy within ’cause I can feel it crawl beneath my skin. Dear Agony: Just let go of me. Suffer slowly. Is this the way it’s got to be? Don’t bury me faceless enemy. I’m so sorry. Is this the way it’s gotta be? Dear Agony: Leave me alone. God let me go. I’m blue and cold. Black sky will burn. Love pull me down. Hate lift me up. Just turn around. There’s nothing left. Somewhere far beyond this world. I feel nothing anymore.
~ Zachariah Lucas Williamson
***
Although his death certificate says “FOUND AUGUST 23, 2019”:
It was 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 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 resulting 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.”
At which point I fell to the ground with a guttural wail that I’m told could be heard throughout the hospital. He went on to say that although they had found his body at 8:30 that morning, the coroner had estimated that he’d already been dead somewhere between 10 to 12 hours, which was confirmation that my physical manifestation of his death the prior night was correct.
Cut my life into pieces. I’ve reached my last resort. Suffocation. No breathing. Don’t give a fuck if I cut my arm, bleeding. Do you even care if I die bleeding? Would it be wrong? Would it be right? If I took my life tonight? Chances are that I might. Mutilation out of sight, and I’m contemplating suicide. ‘Cause I’m losing my sight. Losing my mind. Wish somebody would tell me I’m fine. Losing my sight. Losing my mind. Wish somebody would tell me I’m fine. I never realized I was spread too thin ’til it was too late, and I was empty within. Hungry, feeding on chaos and living in sin. Downward spiral, where do I begin? IT ALL STARTED WHEN I LOST MY MOTHER! No love for myself, and no love from another. Searching to find a lover on a higher level. Finding nothing but questions and devils. ‘Cause I’m losing my sight. Losing my mind. Wish somebody would tell me I’m fine. Losing my sight. Losing my mind. Wish somebody would tell me I’m fine. Nothing is alright. Nothing is fine. I’m running and I’m cryin’.
Won’t you get up off, get up off the roof? You’re scaring us, and all of us (some of us) love you. Achilles, it’s not much but there’s proof. You crazy ass cosmonaut, remember your virtue. Redemption lies plainly in truth. Just humor us Achilles. Achilles come down! Won’t you get up off, get up off the roof?
Achilles!
Achilles!
Achilles, come down!
Won’t you get up off, get up off the roof? The self is not so weightless, nor whole and unbroken. Remember the pact of our youth? Where you go I’m going, so jump and I’m jumping since there is no me without you. Soldier on Achilles. Achilles come down! Won’t you get up off, get up off the roof?
Loathe the way they light candles in Rome, but love the sweet air of the votives. Hurt and grieve but don’t suffer alone. Engage with the pain as a motive. Today of all days see how the most dangerous thing is to love. How you will heal and you’ll rise above.
Achilles!
Achilles!
Achilles, jump now!
You are absent of cause or excuse. So self-indulgent and self-referential. No audience could ever want you. You crave the applause yet hate the attention, then miss it. Your act is a ruse. It is empty Achilles, so end it all now. It’s a pointless resistance for you.
Achilles!
Achilles, just put down the bottle!
Don’t listen to what you’ve consumed. It’s chaos, confusion, and wholly unworthy of feeding, and it’s wholly untrue. You may feel no purpose, nor a point for existing. It’s all just conjecture and gloom. And there may not be meaning, so find one and seize it. Do not waste yourself on this roof.
Hear those bells ring deep in the soul chiming away for a moment. Feel your breath course frankly below. See life as a worthy opponent! Today of all days, see how the most dangerous thing is to love. How you will heal and you’ll rise above. Crowned by an overture bold and beyond. Ah, it’s more courageous to overcome!
You want the acclaim, the mother of mothers. (It’s not worth it Achilles.)
More poignant than fame or the taste of another. (Don’t listen Achilles.)
But be real and just jump you dense motherfucker. (You’re worth more Achilles.)
You will not be more than a rat in the gutter. (So much more than a rat.)
You want my opinion, my opinion you’ve got. (No one asked your opinion.)
You asked for my counsel, I gave you my thoughts. (No one asked for your thoughts.)
Be done with this now and get off the roof! Can you hear me Achilles? I’m talking to you. I’m talking to you. I’m talking to you. Achilles come down! Achilles come down! Throw yourself into the unknown with pace and a fury defiant. Clothe yourself in beauty untold and see life as a means to a triumph. Today of all days, see how the most dangerous thing is to love. How you will heal and you’ll rise above. Crowned by an overture bold and beyond. Ah, it’s more courageous to overcome!
I don’t wanna die alone. I don’t wanna live forsaken. I refuse to let this go. Because my soul is breaking. I don’t wanna let you know that my heart is just so jaded. I refuse to let it show. I refuse to let it go. Wake me up when this is over. I’m tired of living life like it’s a dream. Please wake me up when it’s all over. I’m tired of living right here in between I refuse. I’ve always walked alone. I chose the path less taken. I refuse to let you win. Life’s a bitch and I’ve been shaken. It’s not a joke at all. Inside my spirits fading. I refuse to take the fall ’cause no one cares at all. Wake me up when this is over. I’m tired of living life like it’s a dream. Please wake me up when it’s all over. I’m tired of living right here in between. I refuse. ‘Cause at the end of the day I’m not you. I refuse. Wake me up when this is over. I’m tired of living life like it’s a dream. Please wake me up when it’s all over. I’m tired of living right here in between. Wake me up when this is over. I’m tired of living life like it’s a dream. Please wake me up when it’s all over. I’m tired of living right here in between. {Five Finger Death Punch}
Is this real? ‘Cause I can’t feel. I reach into his darkness and there’s nothing to hold. I try to heal … but spin my wheels. The more I try to stop this, the more I lose control.
Am I just a ghost in my own machine? In a sandbox in the entropy? Some reality got a hold of me, and I don’t think I’ll escape. Am I too attached to a memory? Stuck in my head for eternity? Am I in a dream or the in between? I don’t think … ’cause I’m not waking up.
Conversations with simulations. They say there’s no escaping … it’s a never-ending road. My salvation is lost in translation. The more I can’t explain it, the more I lose control.
Step One: You say, “We need to talk.” She walks, you say, “Sit down, it’s just a talk.” She smiles politely back at you. You stare politely right on through. Some sort of window to your right, as she goes left and you stay right between the lines of fear and blame. Let her know that you know best, ’cause after all, you do know best. Try to slip past her defense without granting innocence. Lay down a list of what is wrong … the things you’ve told herall along … and pray to God she hears you. I pray to God He hears you. As she begins to raise her voice, you lower yours and grant her one last choice: “Drive until you lose the road, or break with the ones you’ve followed.” She will do one of two things: She will admit to everything, or she’ll say she’s just not the same. Then you’ll begin to wonder why you came.You begin to wonder why you came. “Where did I go wrong? I lost a friend somewhere along in the bitterness, and I’d have stayed up with you all night had I known how to save a life.”
(“How To Save A Life” … Words Adapted)
If only I had known all these years that I’ve been belting these words out loud that one day they’d become the inner voice inside my head talking back to me. With that, I can’t believe I’m finally putting this out into the Universe … BUT … here I am doing it anyway. As much as my own past mental health issues are multi-faceted, layered, and complicated, I’m also in my 8th year of recovery from the dragon that was my anorexia/bulimia.
With that, if you, your daughter, or anyone you know is struggling with body dysmorphia or an unhealthy relationship with food of any kind (’cause remember that “Men Have Feelings, Too“), I’d love to sit down and talk with them. After all, no one better understands how to live with and slay a dragon than someone who’s done it herself.
As you can see, I’m desperately trying to be as transparent as possible as I journey through this nightmare I’m living out loud, as I refuse to just sit back and let the broken roads each member of this family has traveled thus far have been in vain. My story? HIS story? My daughter’s? My son’s? They will have made a difference in the life of at least one other broken soul that’s lingering hopelessly out there in this world somewhere if it takes my last breath to do it.
Zack reminded us all so much of Robin Williams’, one of my favorite icons. He was larger than life. Always smiling. Always positive. Always the biggest presence in the room! He couldn’t stand to see anyone sad, so, he would make us all laugh until our sides hurt. Yes, he was the biggest clown I’ve ever met! At the same time though, he was intensely serious about everything he tackled in life, and as witty as he could be, his timing was always perfect. With him? There was a time to laugh, a time to cry, a time to play, a time to dig in deep and get to work, but always a time to just “Good Morning Vietnam” it!
On Thursday, August 8th, 2019, things seemed to be looking up. It was his day off, but we’d decided to split up for the day so I could take Gia for school shopping and lunch while he ran some errands of his own. When he walked out the door, he seemed to be in genuinely good spirits, and as you can see from our credit card statement, we’d all had a productive day. Me? Shopping. Having lunch with our daughter. Living life in the moment and excited for the double date later that night with our sweethearts. We were happy. We had a family. We had a home. We had a KING waiting for us at that home who loved us both more than words could say. He was our everything. HE WAS OUR ROCK!
But what abouthim that day? What don’t we see in this picture of him smiling at Pinstack? “Our rock” was literally crumbling before our eyes and had already made the decision to end his life. This charge you see at “CAB STORE ALLEN”? While Gia and I were eating lunch, he was at Cabella’s buying the Springfield he put to his head 14 days later:
So, there you have it. What you see hiding behind another one’s smile isn’t always joy, peace, and happiness, and these pictures are a sobering example of this tragic truth. Although we knew he was struggling, no one knew how close to the end of the story he really was. He was dying a slow, painful, agonizing death within his own mind … we just couldn’t see it. I’m sorry that I’m not sorry if this post upsets anyone because perhaps it’s too transparent, but there’s a poignant statement made in these pictures that I felt was important to share. Maybe the saddest people always try their hardest to make people happy because they know what it’s like to feel worthless and they don’t want anyone else to feel that way.
UNTIL THE DAY I DIE
The waters rise. The light declines. But I’m not turning back from here. Voices are crying. Corpses remind that most don’t make it to the end. Look to the sky. Take back what’s mine. This life can be a cemetery. This life can be a shallow grave. I’ll never be a casualty. I’ll never bow before I break. I’ll stand and fight. Until the day I die. I left the known to walk alone ’cause to remain was suicide. The “could’ve been”. Stood up again ’cause not to try was just to die. Maybe I’m wrong. But it’s my right. I’ll face the night. I’ll find the light. Look to the sky. Take back what’s mine. I’ll stand and fight. Until the day I die.” {Like A Storm}
How can this be happening? I’m losing him. WE’RE LOSING HIM! And now it feels like I’m losing myself.
The best part of my life came and past and it’s all downhill from here.
He’s dying. HE’S FUCKING DYING! I can’t do this without him. What will I do if he doesn’t get better? PLEASE, oh God, PLEASE … give us both just enough strength to make it through this.
If only you’d have known that as you arrived to work that October day, every plan you’d ever planned, dream you’d ever dreamt, or wish you’d ever wished for your own life and future was completely unraveling. You could have worn one of those silly expectant father shirts with sparkly pink letters across your chest … “I’M GONNA BE A DAD! IT’S A GIRL!” … and maybe even passed out cigars!
He was standing in front of that one big window at the gym, turned his head, our eyes locked!
I want you to know that I am ever so aware that none of this has ever been easy for you, although to those who don’t know what really lies beneath the frosting of the beautiful cake you’ve become, you DO make it all seem so effortless. But this job you never imagined you’d be showing up for on an equally cool night the following November came with so many unseen challenges and struggles, most of which have fallen on your shoulders without complaint. I know we weren’t the family you were expecting – “some other guy’s leftovers”. And I’m guessing she wasn’t quite the “little pink bundle of joy” you may have pondered welcoming into your once very private world.
As for all the things you have been, done and given?You didn’t have to do ANY of them! No one ever asked you. You just did … and still do. All the tears you have cried with her. For her, and about her? They matter, and I’ve counted them all!He breaks her. You fix her. He makes excuses. You look for solutions. He hurts her. He hurts you. He lets them both down, but you keep picking them up. I suppose the defining moment as to who and what you are as a father was that morning just a few weeks ago when you were first reduced to tears at the realization of how much she has grown in the years since you first met her and how quickly time is speeding by:
Catherine, I only have five years left with her and then she’ll be going to college. It seems like a lifetime when she’s only gone for two days, so what’s going to happen when she’s gone for months at a time? And then when she’s gone for good? Just thinking about it makes me sick and I don’t know how I’ll survive it!
You’re a beautiful human being, Zachariah, and your heart’s depths knows no bounds. You could have had anything … anyone … and to this day I cannot understand why you’ve done the things you have done for us, and more than that, why you didn’t run as FAR away as any other man’s legs could possibly have carried him. I was so beaten down, tired, weary and ragged and had literally NOTHING to offer you whatsoever. A father who wouldn’t accept you. An ex-husband who maligned you. A pile of debt. A broken body. An empty womb. The two ghosts. “His” kids. Still, you chose us.
I want to say thank you my true and faithful King. Thank you from the depths of my soul. You are so much of everything and then some. You’re the love of my life that I never knew I’d never had until that that moment I finally knew what the selfless, unconditional love of a man and a father was supposed to be. I know this may sound crazy, but it’s because of YOU that I now fully realize how God pours His own love into all of us. When I look at you? I see Him. You’re just a mortal man, imperfect in so many ways, but your honor, intentions, and steadfast love and devotion to this family are unwavering and always “for better or worse”.
THESE are your self-evident truths:
You’re the beating of our hearts, the voice that calms our fears, the words to all our songs, the hand that wipes our tears, our eyes when we can’t see, our lungs when we can’t breathe, our legs when we can’t walk, and our arms when we can’t hold ourselves upright. You have made us both believe we’re the two most treasured prizes a man could have won, and that our many flaws and weaknesses are just as beautiful as you claim we both truly are. You are the mirror we gaze into when our own reflections fail us, and we are never more confident than when we’re standing behind you, beside you, or with you at our six. We belong to you Zachariah, and for some reason it was supposed to be this way. You gave us a home … and your heart … and everything we have today. We love you more than any of my endless words could say.
My husband wrote this for Gia in June because he believed, and it’s true, that they shared similarly broken hearts. Now, in reading it a second time, I realize he was actually writing about himself. Ten years ago my husband saved my life, and hers. In the end, it was him that needed to be saved … but I couldn’t do it.
“SHARDS”
I finally broke and my mind came undone. My body gave way as I hit the floor. My heart shattered. I lacked the strength to even pick up these pieces as they spilled across the floor while they looked at me in disapproval for the “mess” and inconvenience I made for them, but I gathered them up none the less as the whip cracked and scarred my back pushing me begrudgingly forward. I didn’t know what to do with what was left of me. I had never come this far apart. I was just a little [boy]. I just wanted to give up. Lay down. You know the rest. There is a crack deep in my soul that is still healing, but some days I feel as though it is only getting bigger. I thought I would never be strong enough to stand on my own and finally get my “shit” together. Could I find enough love for myself to make these jagged pieces worth putting together? I have looked to find strength in so many ”things” because I feel it is not within me, but deep down inside I know it is there. One day soon I will gather up these pieces again. Fit them together the way they are supposed to go. These shards will become my strength. My protection. My weapons against further abuses of my worth and love. The strength is gathering within me – I’m not little anymore! They shoved me on to the path of adulthood and I will show those who have wronged me my wrath, which will only be overshadowed by the ferocity of my love that is and was the best thing they will never have known. I spent so much time seeking their approval, when it was MY approval and favor, they should have been looking for all along.
To Catherine (my first and last Love, my soulmate and best friend),
To Catherine (my first and last Love, my soulmate and best friend),
Considering recent events and conclusions I have come to about my life, childhood, parenthood and overall feelings about the people in my life, I have come to some huge conclusions about you and your role in my life. Although we have had a rocky ride at times and we have done some really bad shit to each other I still really would do it all over again. Not just for Gia either. I do love you and I am still in love with you I just got lost along the way because I could not figure out why felt so distant from you and distant everything for that matter including myself if that makes sense. I do love everything about you except for the way we interact/react to each other under difficult circumstances.
After realizing how I really felt about Gia as my child and realizing that no one in my life ever felt that for me it hit me that you were the first and only person in my life that ever truly loved me, chose me as THE top priority in their life and fought to help me get over myself but also fought to protect me from anything and everything harmful or defamatory including myself. Even though you didn’t do it for me you brought my daughter in to this world and promoted that relationship that I didn’t even know that I wanted and needed so bad until now. You made me a parent and it turned out that was the greatest thing that ever happened to me next to falling in love with you and your daughter. I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for fostering my relationship with Gia and being there for me even when I was impossible to live with. I don’t deserve a lot of the things you have done and been for me and I will always owe you for everything.
You are an outstanding mother and wife and I realized it is only because of your deep seeded insecurities mostly having to do with your parents and life events that cause you to do the stuff that really upsets and hurts me. I wish we didn’t do bad things to each other but no marriage is perfect and we have to keep trying. I worry more about my own bad choices destroying our relationship than I do yours and I’m sorry for everything I’ve done to hurt, invalidate or upset you. The list of those things goes on and on but I am trying to do and be better for you and for me as well.
I love you and I am in love you I just disconnected myself to protect myself. It wasn’t just you though. I was disconnecting from everything here lately because of my perceived failure at work and at home. When Gia goes to college you are all I’m going to have and that’s a good thing but I was afraid it would leave me alone and that things would get worse between us without Gia there as a buffer. I realize now I need to allow myself to trust and invest in our relationship even more physically and emotionally. Gia going away could become a blessing for us having more time to do things we love together and not stressing out about the juggling back and forth for her between Pete, school and other activities. I love you and I’m in love with you. I want it to stay that way and I want us to get closer as a result of what’s been going on here lately. This is just part of life. Gia is supposed to go have her life and we are supposed to have ours also. I want to have my life with you. You were my first love, my first EVERYTHING and I want you to be the last god willing.
Please forgive me for my doubts about you and about us and let’s move forward and make our marriage better than it has ever been. Ok?
Ten years ago, in the midst of a mental health crisis and major crossroad, I got a job driving big Ford trucks from Dallas to the four surrounding states, Kansas, and Missouri as a dealer trade “valet”. I spent so many days and nights alone on the open road just driving, crying, laughing, talking to myself and God. I’d stop in as many small towns as I could along the way in the quietest corners of “anywhere but home”, find a quaint cafe, then just sit with some coffee and listen, observe, and absorb as many “outside my bubble” experiences as possible. That job was one of the best things I’ve ever done, and I swear I wouldn’t be here right now if not for it.
Back then, I was a rocker who hadn’t heard of Rascal Flatts yet. I fondly remember the day I was rolling down the I40 to Yukon in a jacked up Ford F-550 when this song cued up to the radio. Meanwhile, there were horses actually running in the field abutting the highway, with a crisp, blue sky in the background that all but took my breathe away and reduced me to some of the most cathartic tears I’ve ever cried. I believe with every shred of my being that God set up that one singular moment in time up for me as the catalyst for the beginning of the “apostrophe” I’ve become.
Here I am now what seems like a lifetime later, eternally thankful for the countless tears I shed in those trucks that allowed me to finally begin the bittersweet process of moving on stronger, wiser, and ALIVE, despite the many broken roads I’d been down and sometimes still have to travel.
These days, when I hear this song I get butterflies as I dream of all the possibilities in her future. Whereas the girl in the song is learning how to let go, which was clearly me back then, I can only pray that these words will apply to our girl for much brighter and hopeful reasons. We don’t want her to ever be in a position where she has to choose between “someone” or herself. We want her to be strong and wise enough to start with choosing herself first and let all the naturally beautiful things that follow be her reward.
Williamson and I are determined to build our daughter into a mentally wealthy, confident, and strong woman who will never have to wonder who she is and run away to save her own soul like I did. She’ll live life on her terms like the QUEEN she’s destined to be, “no reins” whatsoever,and I’ll fight for her to have that freedom until the day I’m gone and beyond. Unless, of course, she finds a king of her own one day who is lucky enough to capture her painted wild mustang heart. God willing, he’ll run right alongside her for the ride of both their lives, neverstop loving her unconditionally, and cherish the beautiful chaos she will surely bring into his world.
For the record, I’ve been praying for this boy, wherever in this world be may be, since the day that she was born. Actually? Now that I think of it, I’ve been praying for both my kids’ spouses all their lives. God has been so good to us in all things big and small, so I know that if a Prince Charming is meant to happen in her queendom, he’ll find her eventually “o’er field and fodder” and everything between. If and when that day finally comes, this crazy circle my life has been going in will be complete, and I will be one very happy mama!
THIS. On this night I watched my baby girl take the center of the stage as the first boy she ever really had a crush on gave her “the first dance”. To fully appreciate this, you must first travel back with me to “the day of the ball on the playground”. It was 4th grade for her, 5th grade for him, during one of my playground shifts their school. I was sitting on the curb, kinda not paying attention, until I happened to look up at just the right time to see her and her friends playing four square. The ball they were “squaring” got bounced off their court and started rolling towards the basketball court where some boys were playing. So, the ball was just rollin’ and the girls were all panicking, because “OMG it’s headed for ALL THOSE BOYS”! The next thing you know, this very handsome young man stopped the ball with his foot, picked it up and started walking towards the gaggle of panicking girls! But it didn’t end there, you see, because that handsome boy decided to invite himself to their game. When recess was over, I followed the girls back into the school as they all giggled and snickered amongst themselves, “Can you believe it? HE’S A FIFTH GRADER!” From that point on, “Sawyer and Gia” were a thing, but only on a first real crush level. He liked her. She liked him. It was the sweetest thing ever, and I GOT TO SEE HOW IT STARTED! Fast forward to THIS night, the middle school Fall Dance, and here’s how “the day of the ball on the playground ended” …
Williamson and I were chaperones at the dance this night, which is par for the course with us. It was just about over and a bunch of us parents were just kicking back on the outskirts of the party when one of the dads noticed a commotion wherein every kid in the room was engulfed in “some thing” on the dance floor that had everyone’s attention. So, that dad ran over and stuck his head through “the wall of kids” only to come running back and report that, “Holy shit guys, they’re dancing. THEY’RE DANCING!” “Who’s dancing”, Zack asked. “Umm, YOUR DAUGHTER AND SAWYER SMITH, that’s who!” From thence it’s just history. For the record, how lucky am I that no matter where this “first love of hers” either does or doesn’t go, I got to watch it from the beginning!
It was June 9, 1973. I was only four years old at the time and so far removed from anything to do with horses that it’s almost comical to think that through my daughter I, no, “we” as a family are now in the fledgling stages of this equestrian world. Meanwhile, today Gia and I watched Secretariat for at least the 20th time since we first saw it when she was four. In fact, it was the second movie we ever took her to together back when Williamson and I were still dating and I was slowly letting them get to know each other. This time was special, however, because of the tear jerker of a discussion we had that followed:
Momma, who does he remind you of?
Hmm? There are actually TWO people he reminds me of and I’ve ALWAYS thought it. I’m curious to hear if we think the same.
BUBBA! That’s so true! But mom, there’s a third person I’m also thinking of.
Who?
YOU! Not a lot of people had much faith in YOU either. You’ve ALSO proven a lot of people wrong!
If there were just one moment in time I could travel back to and personally witness, it would be the Belmont Stakes when that TREMENDOUS machine defied everyodd stacked against him and made a mockery of all the people drunkon SHAMpain in the crowd.
If you’ve never seen the movie or read about “The Horse That God Built”, do it! It’s so much more than just a movie about a horse. It’s the story of what can happen when one living creature truly believes in another and how faith can make miracles out of anyone. That’s what made OUR little family what it is today by the way … a miracle of FAITH! I’m so lucky to be surrounded by people I’ll never stop believing in as I watch them run their races with no reins!
This morning, my superhero obsessed daughter drew this picture of who I thought was Wonder Woman, only to find out it was a picture of me. She drew it after having written this unbelievable essay that I never even knew existed until today about how her favorite TV show led her to the SUPERNATURAL conclusion that the real superheroes in this world don’t actually wear capes. Rather, they wear the badge of honor that comes along with “hunting mental illness” and its veryunpopular monsters.
SAVING PEOPLE & HUNTING MENTAL ILLNESS:
THE SPN “FAMILY BUSINESS”
What makes a hero? It is their immense strength, bravery, kindness, and selflessness. They inspire and save the lives of people for no other reason than to help. I found MY heroes because of a TV show that I had no clue would be as special as it is to me. By telling his story and launching a campaign giving support to those in need, Jared Padalecki, alongside Misha Collins and Jensen Ackles, have inspired thousands of people, and myself, to never give up, and to always keep fighting …
In March of 2015, Jared launched “Always Keep Fighting” with different T-Shirts with the slogan. All the money gained from the over 500,000 products sold were given to the charities To Write Love On Her Arms, The Wounded Warrior Projectand Attitudes In Reverse – Student Suicide Prevention. Later, he gave the reason for him starting the campaign in the first place. That previous New Year’s Eve, one of Jared’s best friends lost his battle with depression. Jared stated that this was not the first time he had lost a personal friend to suicide. Using this new campaign, he said that he hoped “that this campaign, while raising money for a wonderful charity, can also raise awareness about issues that affect more people than we know. I hope it inspires people battling depression, addiction, mental illness, and suicidal thoughts to be vocal about their struggles. I hope it helps people realize that they shouldn’t be ashamed of what they are going through, and I hope it helps people meet and find new friends that they can relate to. I hope it helps people take pride in the fight that they have been fighting, and gives them a push to never give up or give in. I hope it helps inspire people to keep fighting. no matter how hard it is.” Through his actions, he showed a level of kindness and compassion that is superhuman. Later, however, he reveals something that gives the “Always Keep Fighting” Campaign an entirely different depth.
Living with an invisible mental illness requires an immense amount of strength and bravery. I have witnessed firsthand the kind of wear and tear it can do (and yes, there is a REAL “super hero” in this regard I am lucky enough to call my mom). Opening up to the public, to millions of people that you have suffered through the same battles as the people you are fighting for? That requires unbelievable bravery. Jared did just that. He said how he has suffered from anxiety and depression. He said that he did not understand why he would be depressed. “It kind of hit me like a sack of bricks,” Jared told reporters. “I mean, I was 25 years old. I had my own TV show. I had dogs that I loved, and tons of friends and I was getting adoration from fans, and I was happy with my work, but I couldn’t figure out what it was; it doesn’t always make sense is my point. It’s not just people who can’t find a job or can’t fit in in society that struggle with depression sometimes.” Misha Collins, a best friend, and co-star of Jared, also suffered in the same way that many fans and readers alike have. Misha had been self-harming for years. Since he was only around 12 or 13 years old. Misha won his battle. He stopped cutting himself and started loving himself. Later, he and his co-star/best friend Jensen Ackles started something of their own.
On February 12, 2016, Jensen and Misha launched the You Are Not Alone fundraising T-shirt Campaign with T-shirts that used the slogan “You Are Not Alone”. The SPNFamily Crisis Support Network has been established by Jensen and Misha in partnership with Random Acts, TWLOHA, and IMAlive. This project created an online support network to help fans cope with mental health issues such as depression, self-injury, and addiction and included training for fan volunteers who wish to be crisis responders in their spare time, provided immediate access to support lifelines for fans in crisis, and local community resources for those needing additional support or information. Together, they save lives and create warriors in the process. They have shown people that there are people who care about them. They save lives as any hero should.
Through words and actions, they have shown far more than bravery, courage, and compassion. Just like the ‘S’ on Superman’s chest, what they have done means hope for people. On February 9th, Misha Collins, who plays Castiel, on Supernatural, posted a video on his social media accounts. Misha’s message? He told his fans without speaking that they’re not alone. To people outside of the Supernatural fandom, this video may not seem like much. But to people who know Misha, to people who watch him every week on The CW, these four words, “you are not alone” mean so much more. Fans see that the actors that they look up to and love not only care about them but believe in them. They continue also to bring the three-word sentence, “always keep fighting”, up fairly often, constantly reminding their fans to not give up.
“Jared, Jensen and Misha”. To people not in the fandom or the people who simply don’t know who they are, these names may mean nothing. I promise you, however, that these names have meant life for thousands of people, mine included. They have not only saved lives, but taught people how to save lives themselves. To look around, at complete strangers, and help those who are struggling, and make sure that they win their fight. They have created an army that fights the demons that live in all of our hearts and minds. An army that is fighting every day for one another.
Jared, Jensen and Misha have saved thousands of lives, mine included. Day after day they continue to save people. Jared Padalecki, alongside Misha Collins and Jensen Ackles, have inspired thousands of people, and me, to never give up, and to always keep fighting. They have taught us that no matter what happens, what we do, WE KEEP GOING! No matter how much we want to give up on anything, little or small, we will refuse to stop. Most importantly, they have taught us that even if we think we have met our match and can’t go on, we will get up and fight harder than ever. We can go on because we are enough, we are not alone, and we have a family of people we have never met, who love us and understand us. Who live their lives loving and helping complete strangers? Thanks to these three men. As Jared said, “Even if there are a thousand small fights, even if every other minute you’re thinking about suicide, or depression, or addiction, or if you have a mental illness, I want people to hit it head on and take action. And to be proud that they’re winning their fight, period.” We must always keep fighting`!
Why does January 11th always have to be so fucking hard? It was one year ago today that he was standing at the window of our beautiful castle gazing at everything he’d built from NOTHING … literally NOTHING … after having spent a lifetime running from the pain of having been thrown away by his “mother”. I’d been taking down the Christmas decorations, and I’ll never forget it EVER. Especially in that we were just about ready to take Gina’s birthday flowers to her grave.
I remember it like it was yesterday. I’d rounded the corner only to find him standing there blankly staring out over the field behind our property with a single tear rolling down his cheek. “Zack? What’s wrong?” … and then he turned to look at me with a lost and hopeless look in his eyes that will haunt me forever. It leveled me at the core with that all too familiar adrenaline dump I’d come to know before in moments of panic and fear.
Catherine, I can’t feel anything anymore.
I was so physically ill, because I knew JUST what he meant by those five seemingly simple words. Over the years, I’d gotten to know the silent language that was often spoken by his face, eyes, and tears when he hadn’t said a word. Despite being surrounded by every possible tangible and intangible thing a man could dream of, he couldn’t feel any of it. He went on to say that the emptiness he was heavier than anything he’d ever physically lifted, which was saying an awful lot, because the man was stronger than an ox.
Ever the stoic and what seemed to be a tower of strength, and although he would indeed talk to me, it was always so hard for him to recount all the things we both knew were eating him alive. Up until “us”, he wasn’t used to having his feelings matter to the people that he needed to matter to.
In the months that followed “that moment in the window” we fought desperately to keep his head above the water, but in the end, the demons hiding inside the hole she left in his heart devoured him. In being perfectly honest, that was the day I really lost him, as from that point on he was only “dead alive”, slowly headed towards the dying light that began pulling him into the darkness.
DYING LIGHT
Here we go again, it’s coming on just like before. The same old sinking feeling pulls me down an endless hole. Oh, the heavy lifting as I fret for what might be. If this is the beginning of the end, then let me dream. In the eye of the storm from the moment we’re born. In the dying light, we learn to live when we give in to the silent waves that crash inside. In the dying light, we can begin to live again when we wake up to eternal life. Let this be an exercise in how to face your fears. Step into the realm of madness if you dare my dear. We are lost in the swarm from the moment we’re born. All that we need passes by until we concede and resign this mortal coil into the dying light. {Alter Bridge}
… and yet another lightbulb moment! Or rather, should I say, lightening bolt moment? While scrolling social media this morning, I stumbled across this illustration (ownership unknown). Upon closer inspection, I all but jumped out of my skin as I headed frantically to an old box of drawings I’d sketched throughout my late teens and early twenties, which for those of you who didn’t already know, was the beginning of my outward struggle with a debilitating mental illness. As I scrambled through that dusty box, the memories literally flooded me. I couldn’t help but feel that I’d sketched something hauntingly similar to the image I’d just seen on the feed. Then? BAM! There it was at the bottom of the box …
I have given birth to three children in this lifetime. First, there was my Christian, “the other pea in my pod“, to wit it’s no big secret to the handful of people who know us both well that we are actually one in the same. Born into similar worlds of contingent based relationships where our overall human value was merely as good as we could ever be. No deeds, words, behaviors, or actions were ever quite good enough for any consistent or unconditional favor, and both forgiveness and grace had to be earned. We have the same shattered hearts, same missing pieces, and heard virtually the same less than optimal words from our fathers repeatedly, creating the sick, dark, lonely chasms deeply engrained within each of our souls. On the surface? Both Christian and I appeared to have it all and to have been given everything we could have needed for success in our seemingly picture-perfect childhoods and adolescences. If only that were true. It’s not as easy as you would think to get out there and fly with burnt and mangled wings.
Next, there was the little one who passed go, but never collected the $200 before her tiny little feet hit the board. She was both the greatest gift and greatest tragedy of my life, wrapped softly in a yellow blanket and sent straight back Home in angel’s wings. Still, even with an often daily struggle with the hole in my heart that belongs to her, I must admit that there have been days that I’ve thanked God that He took her out of here before the pain and struggle of simply “existing” became her any longer than the few short hours she spent here.
Then, there was my Gia. The pièce de ré·sis·tance light of my life, and the very reason I finally found the courage some ten plus years ago to begin the arduous task of ripping the infamous Venom suit desperately off my sick and worn out mind and body once and for all.
My point being this this:
My two living children have been raised in virtually polar opposite environments. Well, for the most part. As was the case was for me, my son spent what were supposed to be the most innocent and carefree years of his life with a malignant array of “little toy guns” filled with hate, shame, anger, guilt and rage all but spat directly into his once unscarred and trusting heart and cemented permanently into his psyche. My daughter, on the other hand, once and finally removed from the cyclically toxic environment I bore her to, has, for the most part, had two healthy parents in the home in which we’ve dwelled since Zack came into our lives. No hate. No shame. No anger. No guilt. No rage being spewed into the depths of her heart.At least not on our watch! In this home, there are not one, not two, but three human beings who are cherished. Human lives that are treasured. Precious emotions, feelings, vulnerabilities, weaknesses, and differences that are validated, if not celebrated when possible.
With that, although the ultimate damage and survival reports are yet to be determined, it does appear that Gia is faring much better thus far as a result of the healthy words and ideals that are filling her mind by the driving forces in her life. Emotional and verbal assaults from parent to child are the crippling cause of a wide variety of adult mental illnesses and psyches, and from what I can tell you from my own experience watching two different children being raised in two totally different environments? Children do learn what they live! So please, if you are reading this, be careful what you are spewing into your babies’ ears. You only get one shot to fill those precious minds of theirs with hope, optimism and the potential for a lifetime of grace, not just for others, but themselves as well.
AGREEMENT 1:
Be Impeccable With Your Word!
Can you guess what the saddest part of this drawing of mine from 29 years ago is? Looks like I clearly had all this information within me before I even realized it, and what a fool I was not to heed my inner voice LONG before I finally did. Thankfully, because of my daughter AND my son, I finally found the courage to walk away from a childhood filled with “all the words I never needed to hear” and likewise a former marriage filled with the same. In true phoenix style I took hold of my little girl and lifted her out of not only my endless sea of madness and mountains of ashes, but as many future ashes of her own I could possibly foresee. Here’s hoping my Gia will be the first emotionally wealthy person to have grown from the twisted branches she came from only to find an equally healthy man to fill both hers and their children’s ears with only the most beautiful “words”.
This was written by my Mona Lisa, battle born, “Phoenix Collaborative” daughter, unbeknownst to me, until it was revealed the day after one of the most bittersweet days of my life, December 25, 2019. Perhaps the greatest irony here is that I have long been fixated with the ill-fated “Flight Of Icarus” and his toxic relationship with his father, as evidenced here with this drawing of mine, Circa 1990, from the “32 Sketches“. This glimpse into the burning embers and fire in her soul have become one of the greatest gifts I’ve ever received.
Someday my gift will be your gift. By that I mean my gift unto this world. The divinely punctuated Light I’ve sought so desperately to find in this otherwise very dark place will live out loud through her. She’s the culmination of every one of my failings, disgraces, accomplishments, and achievements, and the truth behind all the lies I’ve searched so hard to find. She’s my diamond encrusted tiara legacy and yet another phoenix rising.
… when it’s been 3,760 days since you shed your skin and had the epiphany that changed everything in front of a fountain in a tiny hilltop village in France and you’re finally headed there with the love of your life to show him the very you were standing when it happened!
This day of the tour is exactly why he brought me here and I literally have butterflies in my stomach! Everything in my heart and life changed instantly and I am so thankful he wants to see the place I’ve been telling him about for nine long years! This is actually the second time I’ve used this song here in The Diary, by the way!
TAKE ME THERE
There’s a place in your heart nobody’s been. Take me there. Things nobody knows, not even your friends. Take me there. Tell me ’bout your mama, your daddy, your hometown, show me around. I wanna see it all, don’t leave anything out. I wanna know everything about you then. And I wanna go down every road you’ve been. Where your hopes and dreams and wishes live. Where you keep the rest of your life hid. I wanna know the girl behind that pretty stare. Take me there. Your first real kiss, your first true love. You were scared, show me where you learned about life, spent your summer nights. Without a care. I wanna roll down Main Street, the back roads. Like you did when you were a kid. What made you who you are? Tell me what your story is.
Ten years ago, you boarded a plane to France with so much more baggage than what you’d actually packed you could barely walk, much less carry the load you’d allowed yourself to be burdened with for too many years to count. Until the moment your feet hit this soil, you’d perpetuated a lifelong farce to everyone you knew and loved, not the least of which was yourself.
Meanwhile, all in the course of a relatively short jaunt, you met two complete and total strangers. Remember how you believed they were actual angels God had set on your path to help you begin the process of becoming acquainted with the other stranger you’d met on that trip – you? One of these days you should be brave enough to introduce those two strangers from your past and really speak your truths by the way, so consider this your official challenge!
At the end of the day, what I can tell you is that I find it no coincidence that you are back here in France, a decade later, celebrating your birthday with not only this amazing man who has brought you so much sweet joy and fullness that your words since meeting him have failed to find their way to paper, but more importantly – with YOU!
Everything has changed since the last time you were here and your life is unrecognizable! Your feet hit that soil with a steadfast determination to stop living a lie and start living an authentic life you could be proud of with the REAL you, no matter the cost, and cost you it did. How could you ever have known that despite your best efforts to salvage the life and relationships you already had, in order to see your resurrection to fruition you’d end up having to let so many things and people go? So, you became a living bomb that self-destructed during the process of peeling off that venomous black Spidey suit you’d been wearing all the while that had all but suffocated the life from you.
I’d like to think that if you could change this last ten years you wouldn’t have changed a thing, as in my heart I think you’ve always known that all of this had to happen for a reason. You found yourself. You found your voice … and your truths … and your many reasons. You know exactly who you are, how you got here, what things you’ve done right, and the many things you could have done better. You’re a perfectly imperfect beautiful disaster and perhaps a bit much for some people digest. You are YOU, nothing more, NOTHING LESS, and “what other people think of you isn’t any of your business anyway.” You’re a survivor, and a warrior, and a divinely appointed living QUEEN, and a true and genuine person. As long as your two babies back at home and that superman standing behind you in one of your favorite places on this Earth think that you’re their hero, who could ask for a better birthday present? HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME, Catherine Marie Williamson! It’s been so nice getting to know you.
🐸 Countless days have passed since our story began that you still never cease to amaze me! You are still my hero, and if we had to go back to that tiny little apartment in Fairview, I would happily go. I could live anywhere, as long as you’re there. It’s not about the “house”, it’s about the “home”. You’re the prince among men who has continued to give us EVERYTHING, and I’m so damn thankful and proud to be your wife!
Never again, never give in, never give in. Never again, never give in, never give in. I wouldn’t wish this on just anyone, but you seem to share my impulse. I wouldn’t take this from just anyone, but you seem to like the result. I’ll connect the dots and you can tell me when to stop. I’d rather keep on going than be something that I’m not. We’re creatures of habit, we can’t live without it. We don’t have to answer to anyone. We’re chasing the rabbit, like creatures of habit, and no one else knows where we’re coming from. And nothing’s ever gonna change, ’cause I ain’t gonna run away. There’s no need to panic, ’cause you’re just as tragic. We’re creatures of habit, we don’t have to answer to anyone. I’m not amused by just anything, but under the circumstances (never again, never give in)! You be the recluse. I will defend you when you’ve used up all your chances. I’ll connect the dots and you can tell me when to stop. I’d rather keep on going than be something that I’m not. We’re creatures of habit, we can’t live without it. We don’t have to answer to anyone. We’re chasing the rabbit, like creatures of habit, and no one else knows where we’re coming from. And nothing’s ever gonna change, ’cause I ain’t gonna run away. There’s no need to panic, ’cause you’re just as tragic. We’re creatures of habit, we don’t have to answer to anyone. {Shinedown}
I heard this song for the first time today and it literally punched me in face. Stung me. Broke me. Leveled me. DEVOURED ME! Well, almost. While I was certain I understood the message being conveyed, I did some digging and found this on a Shinedown lyrics page:
Creatures is the progression of a person from dark to light, is the first part of the actual transition. This is where the person begins to shed all of the negativity that has held them in such a dark emotional state, breaking free from the human nature and animal instincts we all have that keeps us trapped, repeating the same mistakes.
EXACTLY! It was as though She were singing it to me Herself – my very best friend and nemesis, who for more than half my life, literally tried to murder me: The Dragon that was blocking my Light!Ironically, it was ten years ago this month when I finally set my tired feet upon the most unforgiving battlefield of my life:“Me v. Her” …
I never thought I would be one of those women who let an eating disorder control every aspect of their lives and I certainly don’t believe in “statistics”. I’ve known long well that none of this was ever about the food, but rather, some pathetic attempt to continually purge myself of a lifetime of shame, guilt and rage. It was about some sick sense of order I thought I was maintaining over the contradiction which had become “me”: My Rules; My Choices; My Food; My Control! (Or so I thought!)
I cannot tell you how many times I’ve been asked what it was like living with an eating disorder, but my words always failed me:
But, Cat, why didn’t you just stop doing it? Why WOULD you even do it? You’ve always looked so fit and healthy.
Umm, that’s not quite how it works, but did you know that effing BITCH could have killed me? Whether it’s attempting to mutilate your physical body, or the creatures living in your mind, as far as I’m concerned, eating disorders are nothing less than passive attempts at suicide, and the words to this song say it all.
For the record, it’s never really “over”! I am here to tell you that eating disorders have no cure – only quiet remission. Even as healthy as I’ve become, She has never actually left me, nor do I think She ever will. As is par for the course with any addiction dragon a human can face – be it drugs, alcohol, food, or even toxic relationships I just say She’s dormant now and lying in wait for the rest of my life, such that I must always take care not to awaken her. In the meantime, I remain eternally humbled and grateful that I somehow managed to survive her and am alive today to tell you about it. Besides, my Mona Lisa is watching all of this, and I will not rest until she is battle born and ready to fight dragons of her own!
“The day of the Spic and Spann” was the day I began to despise myself and the dark brown skin I wore, and dare I remember the countless hours of my youth spent in a bathtub crying secretly to myself while literally trying to erase my beautiful color with my mom’s kitchen pot scrubbers!
… because after a first half of a lifetime being ashamed of the tone of my skin then finally learning to love it, I figured it was about time that I figured out exactly how I got it! I couldn’t be more proud of the results. Not only did I discover how deep my Italian roots run to the region close to Pompei, which in and of itself has recently become an even greater source of pride than I could possibly have ever imagined, but also, that the ancestral connection to the Hopi Native American tribe in my blood that my Grandma Mary had always mentioned is likely very true.
One hundred years have gone and men again they came that way to find the answer to the mystery. They found his body lying where it fell on that day, preserved in time for all to see. What became of the man that started? All are gone and their souls departed.
So, with that …. ME! It’s ME! I’m what became of “the man that started” my ancestral tree!
And just like that, the mystery of how I became the fierce SURVIVOR I am is solved! It’s in my blood and the STUNNINGLY beautiful brown tones of the Latin and Mediterranean skin I used to try and scrub off in shame!
With that, here’s a little shout out to any and all it may concern regarding the color of either my or anyone else’s skin:
Pardon me, but, my epidermis is showing! I’m sure you couldn’t help but notice my gorgeous shade of melanin! I tip my hat to my colorful arrangement, ’cause I see the beauty in all the tone of my skin! I’m a colored people and I live in a tainted place. I’m a colored people and they call me the human race. I’ve got a history so full of mistakes, but I’m a colored people who depends on His holy grace. This piece of canvas, “me”, is only the beginning. I take on character with every loving stroke! A thing of beauty who’s the passion of an Artist’s heart … by God’s design, I’m in cosmic skin kaleidoscope!
The Diary Of My Perfection 