It’s no big secret to anyone who knows us that when Zack and I first got married at our friends’ home in Sachse, Texas, on November 1, 2010, not only were we broke, but we were also actually in arrears. My wedding gift to him? A beaten down, mentally challenged, badly disfigured “not quite employable” ME with over $30K in debt, a car I couldn’t afford, two kids, and a father who HATED him”. So, our “honeymoon” that night of our theatre room marriage was a trip through a drive-through and him carrying me over the threshold of our “palace”! It wasn’t until now, after a full year has passed, and due largely in part to the financial contributions of the only real “father” he’d ever known, Rick Scauzillo, that we were finally able to take our much-deserved honeymoon.
When we first started talking about where we wanted to go, it was his idea to take me back to New England so that he could see that beloved place I was once lucky enough to call home. It meant the absolute world to me that not only did he want to take me there, but even more so that he absolutely loved it! We flew into Boston and rented a car, then drove all the way to the tip of Maine and back down the coastline that eventually landed us in Providence. He truly “wanted to see it all and not leave anything out”, so that is what we did! Though we were still not off the ledge of “pretty much kinda broke” it was one of the richest times of our lives!
I’m holding on to white balloons, up against a sky of doom … tell me you see them … ‘cause what’s inside of me is invisible to most … even in clear view. I’m sending out a signal to the possibility of you … ‘cause right at this moment. I know you are connected to a part of me that I don’t even know myself. The changes in me are likely to be like the weather … stormy and clear … strength into fear bound together. But I’ll break my silence if I believe that you and me could ever be more than just what’s been behind us.
I desperately want to learn how to live in the rest of every moment I’m lucky enough to have here on this Earth until the day finally comes, hopefully many years from now, I can move on ahead to what is undoubtedly going to be the most peaceful place of all with a soul that is as light and free as a fistful of white balloons.
I’m just so tired that I can hardly even cry anymore, but the more I do, the better I feel, so I suppose I’m gonna just have to keep doing it. The four of you deserve the best Catherine Williamson that I can possibly manage to become, and one who is so much better and stronger than the one you’ve had so far. I know that I can do this … I HAVE NO OTHER CHOICE! I cannot lose another thing or sacrifice one more moment for the sake of all these broken pieces I’ve been stubbornly clinging on to in some fruitless attempt to just “put them all back together”. Maybe they weren’t meant to be “put all back together”, but instead, I just need to try to understand them, be okay with it if I can’t, then sort through and rearrange what’s left into a totally different thing instead of trying to hide them.
God? Can You still hear me? I know you don’t make garbage, that everything is Your perfect design, and therefore, so am I! Please forgive me for yet again forgetting what I’ve already known for so long, and help me, once again, to move along. Please, God? For me, for my children, and this living king on Earth you put on my path … I needto find my way back to me again before I lose even one more wasted year. I know I’m still your daughter, but I want to be your favorite one.
… With A Beautiful Soul!Inspired and humbled to learn so much from a child not yet 20 years old who I am lucky enough to know and have grown to love and cherish, who spent “family dinner” with us last night while back home in Dallas and just about to head back to Cambridge to his sophomore year at HARVARD! (And did I mention that he did this with EVERY possible roadblock facing him?)
This is a small excerpt from a conversation we had, which in and of itself could have reduced me to tears had the circumstances been a little different. Actually, it was the last thing on my mind before I drifted off to sleep last night and first thing on it when I was LUCKY ENOUGH to wake up!
How dare I complain about all the things I don’t have! I am SUCH an ass!
I am beyond ashamed of myself for my OWN lack of gratitude for some of the many gifts and opportunities I was simply GIVEN over the course of my lifetime thus far, some of which I squandered away, and many of which I did NOT appreciate at all. All of this has further allowed me to firm up a much healthier perspective as to the state of my own life and the direction that it’s going …
So Rossi, what’s it like, standing on the campus I mean? How did it feel on your first day?
Ethereal really. Had to keep pinching myself, sometimes still do, and ask, “What? Do I really actually belong here”? (Yes he DOES by the way!)
Well how’s the food, your room, the surroundings? What’s it like there?
Well, I find the food quite palatable actually. So nice that I even have food to eat – and so many different varieties to choose from! Very nice! And my dorm room? Well I have a bed now – for many years I have slept on a couch so that my little brother could actually have the bed in our place! I hear lots of my classmates “complaining” about their accommodations quite a bit, but I can’t comprehend it. I suppose some of them have never really known what it’s like to go without. So then yes, my room is small, but I say it’s “cozy”. The bed is so comfy, there’s a nice little desk and a fairly comfortable chair to sit in. Hey, I’M AT HARVARD! I’m alive and healthy and happy! What on earth is their to complain about?
So then Rossi, my love, as for your text to me last night that, “You made today awesome for me. Thank you.” No, kiddo, you made today awesome for ME! With the ATTITUDE OF GRATITUDE you properly burdened both myself AND my perspective with last evening, I say thank YOU! I love you so much, you amazing and beautiful human being! I’m so very proud of you and to know you!
Well, hello there stranger! I hope this quick note finds you very well! As I was wrapping up the last of our wedding / real estate announcements, I had a final thought: I should send one to Steven! Please understand that this announcement is NOT a solicitation of real estate business from you, but rather, the icing on a cake that you played a huge part in baking.
You’re a very good counselor Steven, and although we probably should have spent more time together, I have come to believe over the last two years that somehow by the time I’d made it to your office many of the answers I was looking to you for were already right here inside of me if not punching me smack dab in the face. Timing was everything for that season of my life and after all I’d already been through and brought upon myself over the years I feel as though I was right there on the edge of my own breakthrough!
Although you may not have thought or believed it, as I was then, still am, and will probably ALWAYS be a bit stubborn in taking anyone else’s advice, which I know is one of my greatest downfalls, I did absolutely receive every word that you said to and somehow digested, processed and used them all as a means to building my new “toolbox” of coping, living and relational skills. Simply stated: Although I combatted you all the way I took everything you said and eventually put it into practice!
Zack and I are doing well. You should know that we’re in a safe, secure, and openly communicative partnership that I believe will stand the test of time. Three years later and he’s still yet to raise his voice to me, chastise, criticize, belittle or fail to support me in every little thing I think, say or do, and more so than that he still hasn’t thrown “me” in my face! He’s a good man with a rare and true heart of gold and I do not believe that he has that propensity in him at all. We get along very well and our marriage peaceful and fulfilling. I am still very much in love with him, as is he with me, and we are growing forward as a couple every day!
As for everyone else? “He” is still “Him”. Not much has changed there and unless I am totally missing something there are no “major breakthroughs” for Him thus (although I am still praying for that every night). Although I am very happy in my new life there is still and will always be a part of me that will not be completely at peace until the day that I see He is. I have a great deal of compassion for Him and have learned to be very patient where He is concerned to the best of my ability. He’s an imperfect human being, just as we all are, and I take each dealing with Him for what it is worth … very important. He may be an asshole sometimes but guess what? That man gave me a combined total of seventeen years of the best possible version of Himself he possibly could, along with three beautiful babies (yes even the “littlest one” that only stayed a few hours is and will always be the tiny, beautiful angel I carry on my shoulder). He is who He is and is either going to be okay one day or not. There is nothing I can do for Him any longer other than, as I said, keep on praying that one day He sees The Light.
As for the kids? Christian just graduated from Jesuit and got himself into SMU, Baylor, TCU and a few other really good schools. We’re still not sure where he’s going at this point, but he was just signed to a fun and crazy modeling contract with this big agency downtown and they are supposedly planning to make him a star! Lol, we’ll see about that! He’s a very good kid with a shattered heart just like his mom and therefore a bit rough around the edges at times. I have nothing but faith in him though and believe in my heart that somehow eventually he will have some “major breakthroughs” of his own and rise above himself to an incredible life. And Gia? She’s a tiny, rotten, amazingly wonderful complicated “beautiful disaster” as Zack has since renamed her … just like her mother! She’s a very short carbon copy of me, and well, um, wish me luck with all of that! We’re gonna have our hands full with her in all the best possible ways! I got this though, trust me! My daughter will not leave my nest without the proper tools in her toolbox as well and I refuse to have her end up at The Meadows like I did! Nope! Not gonna happen!
As for Me? As you can see I did finally go back to school and finished up those last few hours of school! I’ve got my Texas Real Estate license now alongside my husband I’m a locked and loaded producing agent here in Collin County! We’re both very excited with all the possibilities and looking forward to succeeding in this venture. I know I can do this and WILL! As you can also see I have also included with this letter my two “other business” cards! I finally got my hand-painted “trash to treasure” jeans business off the ground, just as I said I would, and that’s what I am doing in the background to help support my husband’s many efforts to make a “suitable and stellar life for us” in real estate!
See also my “Boot Camp” card! Yes sir, indeed, I’m still VERY MUCH a part of that Life Enrichment Boot Camp you sent me to in an ironic “last ditch effort” to help me. Imagine that! The one thing you thought wouldn’t work for me was the one thing that actually worked. Go figure! I’m just about to celebrate two years with the group, and Steven, I can’t thank you enough for sending me thereabove all the many other things you did to help me while I was thwarting you at every turn! LEBC has been a blessing and a gift to not only myself but to so many of the people I know and love. THAT’S WHERE I HAD MY MOMENT! Well, one of them, right? Lol. Lest we forget Jason’s Deli, France itself, Adoram and Henrik! But I’ve digressed. Lol. (See? Some things will NEVER change with me!) Boot Camp is where I started putting all my little broken pieces back together by ultimately realizing that in order to live a full and healthy productive adult life I first had to learn to “forgive” – not only those that have hurt me over the years but most importantly, myself. This is my mantra now: I am a human. I’ve been broken. I’m imperfect. Always was. Always will be. BUT IT’S OKAY … I’m forgiven! Now I have to keep rising above it!
Well that’s it then! Pat yourself on the back a bit! You may not have thought so but you did a good job, and I mean that from the bottom of my salvaged heart! Please wish me the best as I continue into my future and as well I shall wish you the same! Thank you for everything and I am SO beyond sorry that I almost drove you to the brink of your own insanity with mine! Please never doubt yourself in your profession. You are very good at what you do … it’s patients like ME that are your problem. Lol! Take care Steven …
Catherine (a/k/a “Hell On Wheels”)
WHERE DO I BEGIN
I [could] see the time I’d wasted and my life [was] passing by. It [was] so hard to keep on living tryin’ to keep this dream alive. [Tried] to tell myself it was worth it, but the words never come out. ‘Cause I [wanted to] find the truth. So, tell me now? Where do I begin? I was lost at the edge of dying in a world so cold. Where do I begin? Now I’m alive I can see I’m ready to be on my own. One more step to take before it’s too late. I just wanna reach the end. So where do I begin? [Held] my breath and [kept] on searching for a life I hadn’t found ’cause I [wanted] to know the truth. So, tell me now? Where do I begin? All the regrets I’d kept inside (I’ll let them go). And all the things I never tried (I’ll let them go). I won’t rest until I see (the truth in me). I need it. {Sick Puppies}
Where do I begin? There aren’t enough pieces of paper in this printer or hours left in my life to fully and properly express how I am feeling at this moment. Christian, you made it! Against all odds, and despite the dysfunction and chaos you never asked for .. YOU MADE IT! There are literally a thousand things I want to say to you, but instead I’m going to just write the lyrics to a song that make me think of you the most these days, that also happen to sum up my own feelings in a nutshell. Inhale this song, breathe it in, breathe it out, and know that I truly believe that these are the most important words a mother in this situation could possibly convey to her son after 18 years of living through a nightmare he never asked for the way that you have.
Close the door on this chapter of your life forever baby boy. Fondly remember the many wonderful, beautiful, and happy days in your life thus far – THOSE ARE THE THINGS YOU MAY KEEP! God, PLESAE never forget them. Hold on to them dearly in your heart and call on them if you’re ever lost, lonely, or afraid. As for the rest of it? The garbage, the trash, the chaos, and the heartache? THAT’S WHAT YOU SAY GOODBYE TO! Keep only what you need of those memories so you’ll always remember how strong you can be and how much of a SURVIVOR you already are! Let those things fuel your fire of determination in changing the direction of this family’s “toxic legacy” once and for all.
Christian Peter, I love you so much … more than you will ever know. I am so proud of you, and always will be, no matter what you do or do not manage to accomplish in this lifetime. You are my son, and I want nothing but the best things in this life for you. But please always remember that many of the truly best things aren’t material “things”. True, unconditional love and acceptance, not only from others, but also for yourself, is something that cannot ever be bought. And peace of mind? While I can’t exactly say that it’s “free”, because trust me when I tell you that sometimes “peace of mind” can, indeed cost you everything, it’s also something that no amount of money can never buy. Over the course of time, you will arrive at many crossroads wherein you will be daunted by the task of choosing one door or another. Always follow your heart, Christian! All the answers you will ever need are already inside there if you’ll simply trust and believe in yourself as much as I trust and believe in you.
And hear this, too,
LOUD AND CLEAR:
A couple of the other most valuable “things” in life that, yet again, no amount of money can buy, are self-forgiveness, and the ability to fall, fail, and make mistakes gracefully without the need to carry them forever on your like a cross. You’re a human being, Son, and therefore you are imperfect. Only God is perfect, and only God has the right to judge you. He is the one you will answer to when your road in this life meets it’s ends, and guess what? He already knew you’d be imperfect long before you were born, and has known every one of your mistakes before you made them! He is more than willing to forgive you for your humanness before you even open your eyes each day if only you will ask Him, and
HE’S ALREADY CARRIED YOUR CROSS FOR YOU!
Perhaps my biggest single prayer for you now is that you surround yourself with a good, loving, and solid support system of people who will never cease to have faith in you, never give up on you, never stop believing in you, NEVER STOP BEING ON YOUR SIDE, and will unconditionally allow you to fail and fall GRACEFULLY. People who will be proud of you when you win, but even PROUDER when they see you fall down then RISE AGAIN! I pray that you will surround yourself with people who will accept you just as you are, nothing more and nothing less, and that you never have to be faced with the unspeakably painful and daunting task of having to “say goodbye” and walk away from those people, especially ones that you have loved and trusted the most, because they refused to let you rise above yourself, move on and give you ALL the second chances you will ever need!
Inasmuch as it has taken me an entire lifetime of shame, pain, guilt, and “a cross to carry” that VERY few would let me lay down to discover that the key to all of this is the the power of grace, forgiveness, and unconditional love, please know that these things are not only a blessing to receive, but even more so a blessing to give! So then, just as I pray that you will surround yourself with people who will extend these priceless graces to you, even more so do I pray that you will extend these things to others. Learn to give, and you will be given. Love unconditionally, and unconditional love will find you. Learn to FORGIVE, and you will know forgiveness, and most importantly, HOW TO ACCEPT IT!
The world is your oyster now, my handsome first-born Prince! Get out there and start gathering your pearls! In the meantime, just know that your Mom loves you and is ALWAYS going to be here, good or bad, right or wrong, no matter what you do or don’t manage to do. I am ALWAYS on your side until my last breath and then beyond! You will NEVER be too old for me to call “my baby”, and I will NEVER turn my back on you – I promise! You’re my blood and bones, and the flesh of my flesh. YOU’RE ONE HALF OF THE BEATING OF MY HEART! I brought you in to this beautiful disaster of a world, and for that reason I will ALWAYS stand behind you as you find your way through this maze. I give you to the world now and set you free my butterfly. No wait, my “Little Star”! Remember that one?
Never forget who you are Little Star! Shining brighter than all the stars in the sky! Never forget HOW TO DREAM Butterfly! Never forget where you come from, from LOVE.
In closing, while in the process of writing this to you, I think I’ve discovered that in a way, these words are not just from me to you, but from me to me. It appears that we are both standing at a crossroad right now, aren’t we? Congratulations my graduate, I LOVE YOU! It’s time for you to FLY FROM THE INSIDE!
~ Momma
FLY FROM THE INSIDE
Is the weight of the world on my shoulders? Is the weight of the world on my shoulders? On my shoulders … All alone I pierce the chain. And all in all the sting remains. And dying eyes consume me now. The voice inside screams out loud, I am focused on what I am after. The key to the next open chapter. Cause I found a way to steal the sun from the sky. Long live that day that I decided to fly from the inside. Every day a new deception. Pick your scene and take direction. And all in all I search to connect. But I don’t wear a mask and I have no regrets. I am focused on what I am after. The key to the next open chapter. ‘Cause I found a way to steal the sun from the sky. Long live that day that I decided to fly from the inside. I can’t escape the pain. I can’t control the rage. Sometimes I think that I’m gonna go insane. I’m not against what’s right. I’m not for what’s wrong. I’m just making my way and I’m gone. {Shinedown}
Traffic crawls. Cell phone calls. Talk radio screams at me through my tinted window. I see a little girl in a rust red minivan. She’s got chocolate on her face. Got little hands. And she waves at me. Ya, she smiles at me. Well hello world. How you been? Good to see you, my old friend. Sometimes I feel cold as steel. Broken like I’m never gonna heal. I see a light, a little hope, in a little girl. Well hello world. Every day I drive by a little white church. It’s got these little white crosses like angels in the yard. Maybe I should stop on in. Say a prayer. Maybe talk to God like He is there. Oh I know He’s there. Ya, I know He’s there. Well hello world. How you been? Good to see you my old friend. Sometimes I feel as cold as steel and broken like I’m never going to heal. I see a light, a little grace, a little faith for the world. Hello world. Sometimes I forget what living’s for and I hear my life through my front door and I’ll breathe it in. Oh I’m home again. I see my wife, little boy, little girl. Hello world. Hello world. All the empty disappears. I remember why I’m here. Just surrender and believe. I fall down on my knees. Oh hello world. Hello world. Hello world.{Lady Antebellum}
You could’ve bowed out gracefully, but you didn’t. You knew enough to know to leave well enough alone, but you wouldn’t. I drive myself crazy tryin’ to stay out of my own way. The messes that I make, but my secrets are so safe. The only one who gets me, yeah, you get me – It’s amazing to me how every day, every day, every day you save my life. I come around all broken down and crowded out and you’re comfort. Sometimes the place I go is so deep and dark and desperate I don’t know, I don’t know how every day, every day, every day you save my life. I swear, I don’t know if I’m comin’ or goin’, but you always say something without even knowin’ that I’m hangin’ on to your words with all of my might and it’s alright, yeah, I’m alright for one more night. Every day you save my life.
9:00AM this morning while Zack was standing at the sink washing out the blender after making his morning smoothie, and I was sitting on the couch with my coffee:
So, listen, I have a question? Do ya wanna get married next week? I was thinking we should do it on Monday since it’s my only day off.
Umm, EXCUSE ME? What the FUCK? Are you KIDDING ME with this right now?
Well you do need some health insurance and I’m planning to really marry you anyway, so it will only be a formality. Let’s just go and get the paper so I can add you to my plan, but we won’t tell anyone until I can afford to slide a ring on your finger and give you a proper wedding. Do we understand each other?
Yes, of course! It’s just a formality. We won’t tell anyone! Not a soul! I promise, promise, PROMISE! But what about the kids? Should we at least just tell the kids?
Catherine, we tell NO ONE! DO WE UNDERSTAND EACH OTHER? Besides, I’m not telling your kids until I can ask your son’s permission.
Okay, I get it. UNDERSTOOD! We’ll get married “just on paper” on Monday!
Okay, good. You call David and see if he will marry us and let’s go to the courthouse this afternoon and get a marriage license.
Three days later at the front desk of the gym the Tuesday morning after we got “married on paper for insurance” … ALL the way down the corridors … AND in the locker room … AND to everyone upstairs that he worked with … AND to the client he was training:
GUESS WHAT? I’m officially “Mrs. Williamson” now. Zack and I got married last night! But shhhh, PLEASE don’t tell ANYONE!
My babies, I know what you’re thinking. You and I have much to say. And you’ve been making me crazy trying to understand, but it’s impossible at your age. I know I said I’ll always try … but you’re going to bed alone again tonight … and you lie there in the dark and wonder why.
You’re so afraid your life is over and nothing I can say can change your mind. How can anybody be so selfish and treat you both so cruel? Go on and scream at me and cry! I’ll always hold you in my soul … and I’m never going to leave you all alone … but your mommy doesn’t live here anymore.
Everybody’s got a boat upon the ocean. Not everybody’s sailing out to sea. And is there someone there for me?”
I did it for you … because love should teach you joy, and not the imitation that your momma and daddy tried to show you.
I did it for you … and for me … and because I still believe there’s only one thing you can never give up and never compromise on, and that’s the real thing you need in love.
{Adapted from “The Real Thing” by Kenny Loggins}
Love, Mama
Meanwhile …
The great Sufi poet, mystic, and spiritualist, Rumi, once said that, “The cure for the pain is in the pain”. I couldn’t agree more. Just as all our beautiful and often bittersweet dances with love, that wisdom has transcended space and time. As for me, however, I say that likewise has pain and suffering transcended time and space through the root systems of our family trees. Until that day comes when someone finally says, “No more!” then decides to calm the fire of that generationally gifted pain within themselves once and for all … such that the toxins that once poisoned its roots stop bleeding out through the hearts of its ancestors … the agony endured by the poison in its roots lives on. Please, God, let it be me! Let me be the one to have absorbed the very last drops of poison that bled out and suffocated the rotting roots of our sick and dying tree so that the branches of my children and theirs will reach up and touch the Sun instead of digging back down into hell. I am humbled and honored to have been chosen for such a sacred calling and for getting to know “the secret”.
So, yes, I did it for me … but I also did it for them … because love should really should teach them joy … not the lie that their momma and daddy tried to show them. Pray God that I’m the one who stops this sick and broken cycle once and for all.
… and after two marriages, a separation, and only God Himself knows what unspoken psychological abuse, damage and trauma we both visited upon not only ourselves, but our children … it was all but a memory now.
IN LOVING MEMORY
Some of the ugliest things took the longest time to make, and some of the easiest habits are the hardest ones to break. And I’m not asking for value nor the pain. But I am asking for a way out of this lie. Because I can’t wait for you to catch up with me. And I can’t live in the past and drown myself in memories. Welcome to nowhere and finding out where it is. And fixing your problems and starting over again. You’re feeding your ego with what you can see outside. And you’re killing yourself for not speaking your mind. Because I can’t wait for you to catch up with me. And I can’t live in the past and drown myself in memories. In memory. I wonder why you make believe you live your life straight through me. I cannot understand why you question me and then you lie. I will not justify your ways. I cannot show you an escape. I do not know you anymore, I never knew you anyway! {Shinedown}
Unbeknownst to either of us, we had each planned to “gift each other” with tattoos representing the other this Valentine’s Day. I had secretly done mine on Friday, February 12th and “surprised me” the Saturday night before I wrote him this letter, February 13th, by taking me to “CAT Tattoo” in Addison where he had booked an appointment with the lead artist and owner the month prior. (The tiger is him and the two carps are me and Gia.) When we first arrived in Addison for his appointment I was literally shocked at how in sync our minds and hearts were at the time, but then quickly made the decision NOT to reveal that I too had “surprised him” with my own tattoo until the following night which was actually Valentine’s Day. After reading my letter he stopped for a pause, and then said, “But wait. The panther, the tiger, the dragon, the angels? I don’t understand about the panther.” At which point I revealed mine to him. It was beyond ethereal!
Little do I know this yet, but as I sat through the debut of “The Blind Side” tonight, this movie just enlisted itself in the stoic army of my upcoming journey forever. Regardless of how much of it was fictionally dramatized and reenacted for the big screen and how much of it was actually true, the fact of the matter is that so many of it’s scenes and little wisdom nuggets have somehow unknowingly managed to take root way down deep into my psyche for future references that will be called upon in the moments I don’t see coming yet that will call upon my “charge of courage” in my own Light Brigage:
If you’ve ever seen The Blind Side (one of my favorite movies ever), you know exactly what I’m talking about. It was that moment when she found out that Michael had never had a bed of his own and became flooded with emotions she didn’t want him to see. She went to her room, sat quietly in her chair, and just “allow” herself” to cry for a minute. For all her endless and stoic strength, even she realized the importance of allowing herself whatever self-care and space were necessary to enable her to take care of her family. The funny thing is that I didn’t even realize I was doing “this chair thing” until he began noticing that whenever I was “flooding” with emotions, I’d disappear into our room then reappear a few minutes later. One night when we were watching the movie for the umteenth time in our season together, he finally pointed it out:
“You know, honey, you do that, too … the crying in your chair in private thing! Did you think I didn’t know that’s what you do when you run back into our room? You let yourself fall apart so you can keep it all together for us. It’s one of my favorite things about you.“
Am I courageous? Right now, it doesn’t seem so. At this point in the game I am filled with fears and doubts. Evidently, I am, indeed, one hell of a resilient and savage beast of epic proportion. Only time will tell the tale of where enlies my ultimate task now. Pray God.
Why should I stay here with you watching the memories fade away? You’re back again until you know – you’ll pay the price for what’s in store. And just before I walk that tightrope you’ll find yourself tonight in the fire. Remembered scars will always remain. Search for something to take you higher. Hiding your scars won’t take away the pain. Back in the game, one thing remains … is everyone knows who to blame. But this is all we’ll do as we blaze – the faces change but the names remain. {The Leo Project}
(The following is a really CLEANED UP version of an email to both my soon-to-be ex-husband and former therapist. As many “F-Bombs” as possible have been removed.)
FYI, my mother has “enabled me” to do nothing more or less than you did in the last two decades. Every freedom I enjoyed with my parents living down the street you enjoyed as well, up until approximately twelve months ago that is. I have kept myself at home with our kids, cooking, cleaning, ironing, decorating, scrapbooking, vacuuming, ironing some more, then cooking and cleaning some more, all with that “perfectly pretty” smile on my face so that no one really knew what either was or was not going on in our home and marriage. Oh, and let’s not forget all the time, days after days, hours after hours, I spent devoted to our son’s school years, constantly entertaining and feeding no less than a half dozen “other people’s kids” weekend after weekend for at least the last decade. Meanwhile, and lest you forget, my human body has been hacked on, cut up and mutilated a grand total of let’s see, oh yah, THIRTEEN times in the last six years alone. Oh and let’s PLEASE not forget all of the truly “personal free time” which was spent in the wee hours of the night while you chose to sleep in another room while I was either eating, puking, crying, suffocating or anything else I could do to avoid the sleep I probably needed so I didn’t have to see dead babies, split open skulls and OH yes, me covered in the first pig with whom I got to enjoy that awesome five minutes of drunken, sweat dripping in my mouth pleasure. Or wait, do you remember all those days you spent with your “business associates” ~ our “dear friends? While I was at home trying to keep myself from slitting my wrists and driving you crazy with my incessant “something’s wrong with our marriage drama” YOU were at Rockfish racking up those $200.00 “power lunch bills” three or four times a week that I had NO idea about. Do you remember that?
So, then no soon-to-be ex-husband, my mother has “enabled” me to do nothing more than you ever did. In years gone by while mom had our kids, I was a very busy little girl. Got it? So Steven, as far as “this” what you’ve evidently shared with Him but ironically never once with me, how the hell would you know what my mother has “enabled” me to do since (a) you weren’t a fly on our walls and (b) you are basing all of your judgments and opinions on the words and truths of a man who, um, just MAY happen to be a little pissed off and scorned at the moment (and rightfully so I might add).
So, let’s see. The last twelve months? What did my mother enable me to do? The trip to France and the “Flyboy“? YOU enabled me to run away to France and YOU enabled me to spend that time with Henrik? It was YOU who enabled me to go there! There weren’t that many visits in person actually and most of our very one-sided “love affair” was via emails, so nope, not my mom’s enabling. Don’t you remember? You were always up in your theatre room or sometimes in our bedroom with Gia. And oh yah, you’re absolutely correct if you think or have assumed that I basically withdrew myself completely from our “marriage” last September (a/k/a “the night of my AWESOME birthday dinner), don’t you remember? I waited for you! I waited and waited and waited some more. Cried to you. Pleaded with you to help me fight for US! I literally got down on my hands and knees and begged you that fateful night in January 2008 when I tried to tell you I was sick, and I needed help. That WE needed help! But wait, do you remember what your response was to THAT?
Bulimia? What’s that? An eating disorder? Well what the fuck do you want ME to do about it? Just don’t do it anymore dumbass! Call a doctor in the morning, because I’m not one, now get out of my theatre room with all your drama and don’t let the door hit you in the ass!
Yep, I sure as HELL remember that night! Those words you said to me are seared into my mind like a fucking brand. “Well, just don’t do it anymore dumbass!” And yep, I have, and repeat HAVE, spent an awful lot of time that I should NOT have in the company of other people, including your most especial favorite one in these last seven months. But let me make this one point crystal clear to you both: My mother’s presence in the kids’ lives for babysitting purposes has NOT enabled or fostered that relationship in any way. Here’s a newsflash to you both: Zack works six days a week, some days from ten until either seven, eight, or nine. Mom hasn’t been too helpful is what I’m trying to say. You know who I really think “enabled me” to develop my bond with him? Um, that would be YOU. That would be YOU!
Let me ask you both something. Is in possible, and I mean even slightly possible, that rather than you sitting back discussing me, my disorders, my family and all of my shortcomings you might BOTH have missed this one very important concept: Maybe I’m not crazy, split personality or whatever the hell you both say, think or judge? Maybe, and just MAYBE, my “depression, bulimia, anger and dramatic OUTBURSTS are as a result of serious amounts of shame, guilt, self-loathing and hatred? Maybe I don’t trust people because I’ve been seriously hurt by a few and maybe I “can’t have sex right anymore” because I was raped and my body (as you have so lovingly referred to it) is all “mangled up and gross” and I’m ashamed of the way I look? Maybe our sex life is broken now partly because I admittedly and ashamedly destroyed and emasculated you with my very ugly and unforgivable words and partly because you emasculated me with all your equally ugly an unforgivable words because not only you were trying to punish me for some things I’ve said to you over the years but also because sometimes you are just a cruel and hateful asshole with that mouth of YOURS? Maybe, just MAYBE, I am pissed off at the world and really pissed off at myself because, again, been there, done that … every three or five years there’s some other “trauma” in my life and I’m just broken, worn out and tired now of always looking over my shoulder for that lovely dragon that’s been chasing me. Yah, that’s right, that’s what the dragon tattooed on my back is all about – NOT YOU! NOT ZACK! “The dragon” is my very best friend and the keeper of all my secrets, and if you want to know anything else about her going forward, well, then read the fucking book!
In closing, how about this possibility in the psychotherapeutic scheme of it all: Maybe I’m not just a mean, hateful, manipulative, insane and horrible mother, wife and daughter? Maybe I’m just tired of living in the past? Maybe I’m just tired of being ashamed? Maybe I’m just tired of trying to be “the perfect illusion” so that no one I love has to suffer with any of my realities. And yup, I GET IT! My little “perfection act” and constantly trying to cover up all these feelings I’ve been stuffing and suppressing is now totally fucking backfiring on me, as not only have I been physically killing myself all the while, but I also think I’ve become a mean, hate-filled, “ungrateful for any of the real things I did have in the meantime” rotten fucking bitch of a human being! I seriously took some of the things you gave or did for me for granted and for that I am ashamed and sorry. But through it all, up until now, I have stuck by you faithfully because I really did and DO still love you and I did not want any of this to go down this way! We both let each other down in huge amounts of ways, but I DID ask you to help me. The last year of my life was spent literally on my hands and knees trying to pull “me” out of “me” and I ended up reaching for any single hand that would take mine!I am sorry, more than you will ever truly know.
And yes, maybe you’re right. Maybe I a really am “a cancer to everyone around me“, up to and especially including MYSELF, but I no longer want to be one! I will never ever stop hoping that you will recover from me one day, “the cancer of your life”, and I will never stop praying that you will find a way to be an actual whole human being. God knows at least one of us needs to try and get there, for our kids’ sakes if nothing else. You are a good man when you want to be and under the right circumstances, you’ll have a lot to give someone else. Just remember this, though, the next time you get a shot at love: You snooze, you lose! Gotta make yourself “emotionally available” my friend, and especially if you end up with another handful of a fucked up crazy bitch like me!
That’s all I have to say now so you two can have each other going forward. Bang me up, shrink me up, give it both your best shots of making any “textbook” sense out of me. Meanwhile, I’ll just keep going at this on my own. Wish me luck, love, death, or all the above. I suppose at this point it doesn’t really matter anymore, because I’m either gonna make it out of this alive or I’m not. I’m hoping for the former, but it’s a shot in the dark at this point I suppose. Self-discovery sucks, for the record, especially when all the extremely blameless and perfect people looking down on you at all times refuse to stop shoving all of the cancers which are “you” back down your ALREADY ROTTED throat. Peace out!
THE LIE
And you, your love’s defining a generation to settle a score. I once knew trust but now I’m surrounded by time I’ve wasted, and hearts that I stole, I owe to you. A second chance. An explanation, a promise I’ll keep for every lie that I told to you. You said you would come back for me, said you’d find a safe place. You said that heaven and stars would never tear us apart. You’ll find the right words even from the wrong ways. You lie. My lungs were failing, hands to the sky, face to the ground. I found that you have no intensions, you honor nothing. And how could this be true? They think so highly of you. Why won’t you just shut up? I’ll make you fade away. There’s a consequence to every word you say. Don’t you know who I am? I said I would come back for you, said I’d find a safe place. Who knew that heaven and stars had their own prison bars? I’ll find the right words even from the wrong ways, I lied. I never wanted so long to turn into go away. There was a time when your face I held much higher than grace. You are the catalyst to words I would never say, goodbye. And now I only talk to the dead. Goodbye …”
It happened on a Monday night at a hole in the wall pizza joint in McKinney, Texas, called Brooklyn’s Pizza. I could tell something was off with him and wasn’t quite sure what to make of it, but had chalked it up to stress and just tried to lighten the mood by being silly.
After he’d finished ordering our pizza, he returned to the table with a “look” on his face of something serious. For a minute, I thought he was about to say something along the lines of, “this relationship is just too much for me and I think it would be best if we go our separate ways.”
But then …
I remember it like it was yesterday and can still see his face, hear his voice, and feel the moment his hands reached across the table for mine:
So, listen, I need to talk to you …
(… at which point my stomach dropped …)
… do know that I love you, right?
(… and then I laughed back at him …)
Oh, so, you LOVE me, huh? Well I love ya too, Williamson!
Catherine, please! This isn’t meant to be funny. Be serious for a minute and listen. I don’t just ‘love ya’. I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU! I’ve tried to picture my life without you in it, but I can’t. So, yah, I kinda REALLY love you.
All I can remember after that is my jaw literally hitting the table. And, of course, me crying like a little girl. I’d already beaten him to that punch, of course, when I’d figured out that I loved him while I was away at The Meadows. The first morning I woke there to any sense of coherency, I knew it:
I LOVED HIM!
But you see, I had long since resolved myself to the fact that we would never work “that way” under the circumstances, and was okay just being friends. Even still, he was important to me. He’d already become my eyes, my ears, and the beating in my heart, but now he’d become my Williamson. It was a “vindication” for both of us and the first day of the rest of our lives. That Godforsaken black suit I’d been wearing since the day that I was born began falling to the ground in glorious tatters.
VINDICATED
Hope dangles on a string like slow-spinning redemption. Winding in and winding out, the shine of it has caught my eye. And roped me in so mesmerizing so hypnotizing. I am captivated. I am – Vindicated. I am selfish. I am wrong. I am right, I swear I’m right. Swear I knew it all along and I am flawed, but I am cleaning up so well. I am seeing in me now the things you swore you saw yourself. So clear like the diamond in your ring. Cut to mirror your intention. Oversized and overwhelmed, the shine of which has caught my eye. And rendered me so isolated. So motivated. I am certain now that I am – Vindicated. I am selfish. I am wrong. I am right, I swear I’m right. Swear I knew it all along and I am flawed, but I am cleaning up so well. I am seeing in me now the things you swore you saw yourself. So turn up the corners of your lips. Part them and feel my fingertips. Trace the moment, fall forever. Defense is paper thin. Just one touch and I’d be in too deep now to ever swim against the current. So let me slip away. So let me slip away. So let me slip away. So let me slip against the current. I am – Vindicated. I am selfish. I am wrong. I am right, I swear I’m right. Swear I knew it all along and I am flawed, but I am cleaning up so well. I am seeing in me now the things you swore you saw yourself. {Dashboard Confessional}
Okay Baby Boy. So now I am working out pretty much every day from 4:00 to 5:00. Of course I’ve already chosen my treadmill of choice, and, as usual, that’s where I end up every single time. So hanging on the walls in front of the cardio stuff are all these different “inspiration” writings. All different kinds … but this one I keep reading over and over. It’s kind of clarified and solidified to me the exact reasons why I love you as much as I do, and more specifically, what things you have either given or offered freely, to this broken and very lost human being. I’ve numbered them below:
(1) Yah, you have ultimately respected me, and tolerated a whole bunch of bullshit that was dumped right into your lap. You have at all times treated me, and helped me find a way to believe, that I am a worthwhile and valuable human being.
(2) Need I say more? You have shared so many precious and cherished things about yourself. You have opened your heart, your ears, and your arms … so that I could, in turn, communicate with you.
(3) Zack Williamson, while I do not in any way believe that you are either perfect or without fault, one thing I feel seething from your soul is kindness. Your compassion for me has been, again, OXYGEN. You have wanted and tried over and over to help me feel good about myself.
(4) Okay, so, yah, you have been honest with me, and I’ve been taken by the fact that you have been able to tell me what things I’ve either needed to work on or change. You’ve never really tried to blow any smoke up my ass, haven’t really sugar-coated a thing. Fuck, you even had the audacity to look in my eyes and tell me that my fucking hair was “all goofed up”. Who does that? Oh, wait, someone who’s honest. Oh and, yah, pretty much trust you more than anything I know. I don’t really trust much of anything, or anyone, and you know that. But I do trust you immensely and emphatically.
(5) Fairness? Hmm? At this point, I don’t really believe that we’ve had to deal here yet. However, based on what I know and believe about you, I am fairly certain that you are a fair man.
(6) Again, we haven’t really had to go here yet, either, but let me say this: The way that you handled certain decisions and circumstances as of late, I would have to label as pretty fucking responsible. You made some decisions and stood firm, to the extend that I would let you. For this I thank you Zachariah.
(7) Oh my God … Mr. Fucking dependability. Oh, I mean Zack Williamson. You haven’t let me down yet, and believe me, I’ve been waiting.
(8) Yah, I would say that based upon the fact that since the day you walked into my life, I’ve pretty much insinuated my crazy little self into every aspect of your life … and … you still haven’t run the fuck away from me …Yah Zack is patient with Cat (9) and exceedingly caring. Does Zack care about me? Um, just a minute … yah, he does.
(10) You have been, as of late, the “try to stay in the positive” ambassador of all things Catherine. You will not let me continue to dwell or loathe in the pity of my self, when I am in your presence. You refuse, continually, to let me even try to give up on me. Oh, wait, I think that this actually works in conjunction with (4) above, wherein my negativity was actually your very first open criticism, or rather, honesty to me.
(11) Number 11, Zachariah … for clarification here, please go back and refer to numbers (1) through (10) above. Read them over and over. Read them 75 times. See, pretty boy … and yah, God you are fucking beautiful to look at … but, see, these are the reasons that you mean more to me than my own fucking lungs or kidneys.
So good nite, Z.
Big hug … C
(PS) Um, I smoked my first cigarette last night. It just happened. I choked and they all laughed. Won’t be doing it again, I promise.
Hi, it’s me again, Your lost sheep, Catherine. So, they told me I should write You this letter, making “significant emotional statements” as if You were sitting right in front of me for fifteen minutes. Irony of all ironies, though, and despite the fact that I sit here writing to You as broken and shattered as I could have ever imagined, I have never truly thought for even a minute that You weren’t somehow sitting directly beside me every second of every moment of my life. I know You’re here. I can feel You in the wind, and hear You constantly in the my children’s’ laughter. I actually “see You” all around me in the beautiful things You have made for us, and especially when a butterfly dances past my eyes.
Okay, so, let me just follow along with the format they’ve given me and see where this can go. Here’s how I’m really feeling: At this moment I am looking directly to You in search of some closure and understanding. Please let this closure, if found, be a new beginning:
So, I resent You God for absolutely nothing, and I think You know that I mean that.
I fully believe that all of my punishments were not only earned, but not cast down by You at all. Rather were they self-punishments by my own dirty hands. I appreciate You for so many things that they would be too hard to list here, and I wouldn’t want to leave anything out. So, how about, again, just the simple sound of my kids’ laughter. Their smiles. Their tears, their hugs. How about those two tiny hands that grab my cheeks every morning and remind me of that I’m still alive. How about my parents, my sister, and hell, even Him? Only You know how things are going to go for us, yet still I love Him and He did bring my beautiful children into this atmosphere. I appreciate all the beauty in this world that envelops me and even the not so pretty things that force me to concentrate on the others. Yes, God, I appreciate You more than You know. Oh, wait! You do know, right?
I thank you, God. for the two small miracles you placed in my path over this last twelve months: Henrik and Zack.
May Your grace ever light the many roads they travel in order that the gifts of true kindness and compassion each have to offer this world may be abundantly acknowledged and accepted. They are my safe havens for once and for all … warm, safe places to land, be broken, vulnerable and heard. Never once have I known hearts so pure, except for those of my children, and never friendships as open, accepting, unconditional and trusting. You know God, that was really all I ever wanted … to be heard with out judgment, validated and accepted … for all that I am, flaws included.
I am so sorry God that I have refused to search for Your hand in all of these years.
I know You’ve reached out many times but I just kept slapping Your hand away. I’m sorry for being so selfish, ego-centrical and pitiful. I’m sorry for being weak and lazy. I’m sorry for all the hatred, venom and toxic black poison that still runs inside my veins. I’m sorry for feeling sorry for myself all the time and sorry for being sorry. I’m sorry that I am stubborn not that very pliable. God, please listen to me … I’m sorry for haven taken a single one of the gifts that You have given me and pissed them all away. God, I am just fucking sorry. And for all of these things I would desperately like to make amends now.
I can’t say that I forgive You for anything, as I do not at all believe that You have done anything wrong. As I said, I believe that my “punishments” – the guilt, shame, self-mutilation, and torture, were not of YOUR hands at all – they were of my own. So then? I forgive you NOT! I do miss You though, and I mean that. It feels lonely and suffocating having severed myself completely from Your light.
So, now I need to “say goodbye to the dream of how I wanted my life to be”. I want to try do things Your way now. I can honestly say that I am not at all sure how I’m going to actually let that happen, but I suppose these words are a start. Please hear me. I’m ready to be forgiven. Please show me the way. I want to let this go and just start over. I need a second chance now. I love you, God.
~ Catherine
SECOND CHANCE
My eyes are open wide and by the way, I made it through the day. I watch the world outside and by the way, I’m leaving out today. I just saw Haley’s comet, she waved, said, “Why are you always running in place”? Even the man in the moon disappeared somewhere in the stratosphere. Tell my mother, tell my father, I’ve done the best I can to make them realize this is my life. I hope they understand. I’m not angry, I’m just saying … Sometimes goodbye is a second chance. Please don’t cry one tear for me – I’m not afraid of what I have to say. This is my one and only voice so listen close it’s only for today. I just saw Haley’s comet, she waved and said, “Why you always running in place?” Even the man in the moon disappeared somewhere in the stratosphere. Tell my mother, tell my father, I’ve done the best I can to make them realize this is my life. I hope they understand. I’m not angry, I’m just saying … Sometimes goodbye is a second chance. {Shinedown}
Okay so hi it’s me, your very best friend in the whole entire world, writing you this letter from deep inside this Level One fucking psychiatric hospital I am all locked up in. Remember me? Oh good then. So, how you doin’?
So let’s see. Um, this place is not at all what I thought it would be. Actually, I’m not quite sure what I thought, but whatever it was, this is SO not it. There are about 80 people here right now. Half boys, half girls. Um, yah, the “red tag boys” are all sex addicts. Ten of them, ages about 22 to 65. Creepy much? Of the women, um, let’s see. About 20 alcoholics, 10 drug addicts, 6 sexually traumatized by their fathers and/or grandfathers … oh, 4 sex addicted women. There are a fair amount, actually, 95%, that are being so beyond medicated that they’re walking around in a fucking daze. Then there’s me. As far as I know at this point I’m the only person here who is not being medicated with mental stuff. They have me taking some throat stuff to strengthen the tissues in my throat, which, by the way, is beyond fucked again. I was told by the staff physician this morning that since I am now on my second round of esophageal issues, especially being so close, that it is only a matter of time if I don’t stop this that I could really end up with cancer. They found something called a “Barret’s Ring” yesterday which from what I can decipher is a light pink tissue somewhere near the top of my throat which are basically pre-cancerous cells. That was pretty fucking scary news and of course, I have no internet access, so I can’t even Google to see if this is serious or not. The doctor says I will need to have this addressed when I get home. Other than that, I’m in good shape. My EKG came back today and was within normal range, although I did have a slight arrhythmia again. They’re trying to say that it could be due to a lack of potassium, I think they said, because I’ve not been eating well lately. They’re gonna scan me every week that I’m here to monitor it.
Anyhoo … So how’s my Zack? Exceedingly well I hope. Gosh, I so know that with your ADD you can’t have a 19-page long letter. But, but, but I have so much to fucking say. So, I don’t want to dwell too much on you, or my feelings for you. And truthfully, I have been able to somewhat put you out of my mind since I’ve been here. Except for something that has kind of been happening here. Well, let me explain. So, this place I am at is somewhat of a “ranch” style complex. We are in the middle of a dessert-type landscape but surrounded by an absolutely gorgeous mountain range. Right below our facility is a horse ranch that is not associated with The Meadows. Every day, several times, I walk to the back side of this one building so that as I’m looking over the railing, I watch the horses directly below. So now, this ranch has three large “pens” in the center which is divided into three equal parts. Looking down, all you see is the overall “square” of the pen, which is probably a half an acre in diameter, and within the square you can barely see the two fences that run down the middle and thus divide the square into 3 equal parts. Within each of the three parts are many different horses, all divided. So the first day I was here and coherent, I found the back ledge of the building and stood out there watching the penned horses for what seemed like forever. The middle pen and the right pen side … There are these two horses, one in each pen. I watched them very closely and noticed, very quickly, that they are in love with each other. Very much so. All day long, every day, whenever I go out there to stand and watch them … they are closely bonded and inseparable. They just stand there all day, right beside each other, but the fence separates them. They nuzzle, and talk, touch noses. Often they’ll run up and down the length of the fence together and “play”. They are happy together but separate. You can clearly see that these two creatures were made just for each other, but their “circumstances” have them in their own separate spaces. Oh my God, Zack, they won’t even leave each other to eat or drink for too long. As soon as they are both evidently desperate to eat, they walk away for as short a time as they can then hit the fence together as soon as their legs can get them there. It’s so fucking beautiful. It’s so fucking sad. It’s you and me. Well, at least that’s how I see it. There are really no words to describe how profound this experience has been for me. I guess you’d have to see it to understand. So then, Z, between “the horses” and your shirt, yah, so I guess I do think about you every single day then.
Well Baby Boy, guess it’s that time. Don’t want to bombard you with way too many words. It’s so not fucking fair to you at all. I’m about to go back out to the horses now. Who knows, maybe those two new friends of mine, Oh my God, those two magnificent creatures, will somehow show me the way to how exactly I’m going to have to let you go one day, and give you to someone else. That’s not to say, for the record, that I believe in any way that you are mine to give. I do not wish to own or “possess” you in any way, shape, or form. I’m speaking of what matters in my heart … you know, I know … that kind of “giving you away”! So, I love you Zack. Always.
I’m here again – a thousand miles away from You. A broken mess. Just scattered pieces of who I am. I tried so hard. Thought I could do this on my own. I’ve lost so much along the way. Then I’ll see Your face. I know I’m finally yours. I find everything I thought I lost before. You call my name. I come to You in pieces. So you can make me whole. I’ve come undone, but You make sense of who I am. Like puzzle pieces in Your eye. Then I’ll see Your face. I know I’m finally Yours. I find everything I thought I lost before. You call my name. I come to You in pieces. So You can make me whole! I tried so hard! So hard! I tried so hard! Then I’ll see Your face. I know I’m finally Yours. I find everything I thought I lost before. You call my name. I come to You in pieces. So You can make me whole. So you can make me whole.
After reading the letter my father taped to my steering wheel while I was eating dinner, the dam that had been protecting what was left of my psyche finally broke. I was having a nervous breakdown, and by the end of that night and into the wee hours of the next morning, was medically assisted to The Meadows in Wickenburg, Arizona where I received the in-patient treatment I’d been avoiding for at least a decade for the Molotov cocktail of psychological anguishes that had been simmering in my mind since the day I was born.
As I write this, I can still “see” that moment playing in my mind as though it were happening right this minute and can “feel” the visceral reaction I was having that day as my nervous system was being flooded with unfathomable, raw emotion and rendering me insane. I literally couldn’t breathe, but could feel the adrenaline slowly leaving my body as it bleed out through my fingertips. I was crumbling! Then, when I looked up and saw my babies standing in that doorway, I was absolutely fucking DONE!
It would be years before I truly understood that my burgeoning decline in mental health was the catalyst for some of the best parts of my life that were yet to come and that I was temporarily sacrificing my psyche for the betterment and bulletproofing of both mine and my children’s future. Even so, it was my them who would ultimately make the biggest sacrifices of all. In so many ways, I was their Thanos and they were my Gamora. Like Thanos, the seemingly “selfish” behaviors and choices I’d been making that had led to my madness were, in truth, for selfless reasons. I didn’t just wake up one day and say, “Hey, I think I’ll just destroy everyone’s lives”. I woke up one day and said, “Hey, none of this is working. None of this is right. I have to do something once and for all to try and make their world better.” Even still, the fallout and collateral damage was the same. I hadn’t just blown up my own life, I’d blown up my babies’ lives as well.
I have always been certain that there were angels present with all of us in that tragic scene, and if it is true that angels cry, then they had to be crying their eyes out as they witnessed what was was happening on that driveway. They literally had to peel my 17 year old son from my body as I was being taken away. He, too, was crumbling, and even as I write this, I can’t recall another time I’d ever seen him cry so much. And Gia? My precious daughter who just needed her mommy to pick her up and hold her? She looked so lost and confused, and I can still see that look of fear in her eyes.
… that moment your son sends you a bittersweet cryptic text message at 3 o’clock in the morning, and although you’re glad that he’s finally telling you how he really feels about all the ways you’ve let him down,it’s a Five Finger DEATH PUNCH to your heart. What he doesn’t know is that my heart is breaking even more than his, because I have to live with the sobering, tragic truth that I’m the one who’s broken his.
REMEMBER EVERYTHING
Dear mother, I love you. I’m sorry I wasn’t good enough. Dear Father, forgive me, ’cause in your eyes, I just never added up. In my heart I know I failed you, but you left me here alone. If I could hold back the rain, would you numb the pain? ‘Cause I remember everything. If I could help you forget, would you take my regrets? ‘Cause I remember everything. Dear brother, just don’t hate me for never standing by you, or being by your side. Dear sister, please don’t blame me. I only did what I thought was truly right. It’s a long and lonely road when you know you walk alone. If I could hold back the rain, would you numb the pain? ‘Cause I remember everything. If I could help you forget, would you take my regrets? ‘Cause I remember everything. I feel like running away. I’m still so far from home. You say I’ll never change but what the fuck do you know? I’ll burn it all to the ground before I let you run. Please forgive me. I can’t forgive you now … It all went by so fast. I still can’t change the past. I always will remember – everything. If we could start again, would that change the end? We remember – everything. {Five Finger Death Punch}
Once I made peace with myself and truly epic space between my ears, I stopped trying to run away from it, moved the HELL back in, took a few pictures down, hung a few back up, and now I rarely ever leave it. Sounds kinda crazy, right? Indeed, I know this … but it doesn’t make it any less true.“… but loving in hindsight … that won’t work for my life. Let me forget all that went wrong.”As far as that “loving in hindsight not working for my life”? That was the OLD me … THIS IS THE NEW … and NEW me is okay with whatever, however, and whenever it takes to either understand or not understand why certain things and people happen FOR my life.After all is said and done, it doesn’t really matter, ’cause the proverbial shit is ALWAYS gonna hit the fan. This road I’m on is still rollin’ on anyway. As long as it takes me “anywhere”, anywhere is better than nowhere, and my life is too fucking beautiful to just give up now. I’m not just a Cat … I’m a REAL Cat, my friends … and the last time I checked, cats always land on their feet!
I fell to the Earth below and I hurt everyone that I know. Well, it’s gonna be hard and it’s gonna leave scars. Some days we’re born to lose. Today, I fell from the moon. I don’t know how to get back or how how to make up for all that I lack. But I’m gonna get there and I’m not gonna be scared. I got so much to prove. Today, I fell from the moon. ‘Cause I, I flew above the Earth some. I’ve danced under the warm sun. I’ve watched the stars light up the room. And now, I hope the Heavens help me. I pray that they might let me back. But if they don’t, what will I do? Today, I fell from the moon. I don’t know where I belong, or how long they say I’ve been gone. But I’m gonna be strong and try to find my way home. That’s all that I can do. Today, I fell from the moon. ‘Cause I, I flew above the Earth some. I’ve danced under the warm sun. I’ve watched the stars light up the room. And now, I hope the Heavens help me. I pray that they might let me back. But if they don’t, what will I do? Today, I fell from the moon. Today, I fell from the moon {3 Doors Down}
It was the Saturday night that followed my 39th birthday, and He had taken me out to celebrate. I was trying as hard as I could to make things work, because as God is my witness, that’s all I really wanted. After endless amounts of soul-searching, skin shedding, “Flight 438”, and The Flyboy, I knew exactly what I wanted our marriage to be, and exactly what would need to happen to accomplish it:
We have given ourselves a year or maybe even longer. He needs to do some serious soul-searching and self-repair as well if this is ever going to work. He too has been damaged by his past, our past, and also needs to shed some skin. We have tortured and abused each other to the point of no return but our history together has got to count for something. We are living here together and will remain married on paper but are separated in every other way. He’ll do his thing, I’ll do mine … basically nothing will change, as this is how we’ve existed for years. Only now there are no false pretenses or expectations as to what we either can or can’t make of this farce of a marriage. I won’t lay in a bed with him or any other man for that matter and give myself completely unless I can honestly see myself as beautiful and whole in someone’s eyes as I felt in yours. That is what I want, that is what I need, and after 20 years of living this way, I will settle for nothing less! What I want and need probably most of all is to finally be able to have my own husband, the man I’ve been chasing endlessly around for almost 20 years, try to begin to see who I am, what I am, what I’ve become and be the one who I can truly connect with, and not in the imaginary way it has been this whole time. Maybe, just maybe, then the years of chasing Him will not have been in vain and the hole he left in my heart can be patched and filled. This next year will be about legitimately trying to find and repair ourselves, separately. When the time is right, and who knows when that will be, we’ll begin to spend some time together, try to get to know the new, healthier people we will hopefully each be becoming and see if there is any shred of hope left between us other than our kids that we can salvage. I honestly don’t foresee that happening at this point and I think He is a little more hopeful than I’d like Him to be … There is so much water under our bridge and so many damaging things have been said between us over and over and over … many of which still ring inside my ears, and probably His even as I write this. But I will give it my best effort for the love of my children and also because I do love Him as well. Twenty years are too many to throw away and something tells me that if ever it were possible for Him to really look at me and see me as you did then our relationship could truly come full circle.
The events that followed dinner are much too personal to share and there are less than a handful of people in this world that will ever really know what happened between us that night. Sufficed to say, the only gift I really wanted from my husband, the man I’d been chasing endlessly for almost twenty years, was the defining moment of what would never become of the rest of “our” lives. I’d finally taken the risk and given Him “everything”: Myself, my hopes, my dreams, my secrets and all my precious vulnerabilities. Not only did He throw them all back in my face, but he also threw into the faces of my own father and son. Terrible, awful, horrible “secrets” I had shared with Him in an effort to make our marriage real once and for all and after all those years of praying for a safe place to just be “me” with him … things that no father or son should ever have to hear. He extinguished any hope I’d dared to have for our marriage and single-handedly put the final nail in our coffin. There would be NO going back this time. The fairy tale was finally over and I’d be leaving the palace for good.
RIGHT HERE
I know I’ve been mistaken, but just give me a break and see the changes that I’ve made. I’ve got some imperfections, but how can you collect them all and throw them in my face? But you always find a way to keep me right here waiting. You always find the words to say to keep me right here waiting. If you chose to walk away, I’d still be right here waiting, searching for the things to say to keep you right here waiting. I hope you’re not intending to be so condescending – it’s as much as I can take. But you’re so independent. You just refuse to bend, so I keep bending till I break. But you always find a way to keep me right here waiting. You always find the words to say to keep me right here waiting. If you chose to walk away, I’d still be right here waiting searching for the things to say to keep you right here waiting. I’ve made a commitment – I’m willing to bleed for you. I needed fulfillment. I found what I need in you. Can’t you just forgive me? I don’t want to relive all the mistakes I’ve made along the way. But I always find a way to keep you right here waiting. I always find the words to say to keep you right here waiting. If I chose to walk away, would you be right here waiting? Searching for the things to say to keep me right here waiting. {Staind}
Yes, it’s true. I really have become a princess. But what if I was meant to be a QUEEN Why don’t I trust him? Why don’t I trust this? Why do I constantly challenge every little thing he says and does? Why does he give all these extraordinarily beautiful things to me? What does it mean? What’s it all for? Why can’t I follow him? WHY WON’T HE LEAD ME? Why can’t I fucking believe in him? Why can’t I let him touch me? I mean really, really touch me. Why am I so afraid for him to see the real me? The angels are here for me just waiting beneath my broken wings. Or maybe they’re the ones making my wings keep moving. I do have vision. I do have my sight. I do want perfection – perfectly imperfect and RIGHT! I cannot keep lying, regardless of my shame, and I truly do admit that I am partly to blame. I care no more. I CAN BEAR NO MORE! I’ll say no more. I can’t give him anymore. I QUESTION EVERYTHING!
QUESTION EVERYTHING
She was a princess; she could’ve been a queen. She had the angels beneath her broken wings. She had the vision; she had the sight. She wants perfection, she wants it right. Who cares anymore, what’s right anymore. (I question everything) I won’t lie, I’ve never been ashamed. I don’t mind admitting I’m to blame. I care no more; I can bear no more. I’ll say no more, I can’t give you anymore. (I question everything) He lives in darkness, there is no progress. He knows the demons, the lie within him. He has no vision; he has no sight. He hates perfection, it wasn’t right. Who cares anymore, who’s there anymore. (I question everything). I won’t lie, I’ve never been ashamed. I don’t mind, admitting I’m to blame. I care no more; I can’t bear no more. {Five Finger Death Punch}
The plane has officially landed, so, where do I begin? I have absolutely no idea! Now is the time for me to sit down, reflect and try to put down in words exactly what has transpired since that destined moment that you passed “the message on the napkin” over to my tray table, my Angel from Flight 438. (As if I haven’t bombarded you with enough of my words already!) If anything, please remember that this is more mental therapy for me than anything, so once again, be patient. What follows is complete and total honesty and clarity – with myself, from within myself and due largely in part to you. This will be hard because there are so many things I don’t want to leave out, but I have to believe that somehow, someway, you will be able to fully understand and believe that these words come from a depth in my soul I truly never knew existed, and they are probably the deepest feelings for another human being, other than my kids, that I have ever felt or known. Here goes …
By now I assume that you have read “The Diary of My Perfection”. What did you think? Best seller? Has the picture of all things Kitty Cat become any clearer? I tried so hard to convey to you in person the fact that somehow over the years I have managed to rip myself apart at the seams into this extremely jaded shell of a human being that’s broken into a million pieces. The same goes for those people that have surrounded me. I feel as though my existence in many peoples’ lives has jaded them a bit as well. But perhaps my story helped you understand the magnitude of it all and helped more intensely clarify exactly how lost I have been here inside myself for SO many numbing years. I have been unable to feel a single, real thing, except for where my three babies are concerned, and until now they have been my only connection to human feeling, compassion or spirit.
As you have probably gathered by now, and perhaps even within moments of knowing me, I am very much comforted, enthralled and kept alive by my son’s existence in this world, and he, along with my daughter, are the only true successes that I have ever known … at least until now. All good then. If I leave this world tomorrow, I leave successful! Christian, despite all odds, is and will always be one of the most incredible human beings I know. I am certain that just as his strength of character and wisdom have enlightened and inspired me there will be countless other lives He will have touched along his way before it is all said and done. I made him! My daughter? God, I wish you could have met her! She is one of the most strikingly beautiful and amazing creatures I have ever laid eyes upon, both inside and out, and her smiles alone have been more than enough to sustain me in the worst of all my days. I made her!Even that tiny wonder that greeted then left me in only a few short hours of time … broken, yes, but perfect in every other way. I made her too! And as painful as it was to watch her life slip through my fingers, and as haunting a memory it is for me to live with, I find it surreal that I was able to hold that little girl in my hands from the moment she came into this world until the moment she left it. How many mothers can say that? Sometimes Henrik I’m almost thankful she’s gone. Does that make me depraved? Who knows? I look around at this place that we live in. So much evil, ugliness and disdain. She never had to know it. She just got to be tiny and innocent, grace us with her overwhelming presence, then leave this place completely unknowing and unscathed. This, I think I’ve found, was the blessing behind her very short existence. You know, I think I’ll keep running with that so that perhaps someday the agony I feel when I think about how it ripped my heart out watching her struggle and gasping for air will begin to fade. I truly hope that in time I will be able to reconcile those two things within myself so that the healthier of the two thought processes overtakes and consumes the other.
Can I tell you Henrik, and could you ever really believe me, when I say there were moments during our time together, I wasn’t actually sure that you were real? Be it not for the fact that my son and the other boys on that plane confirmed that you were indeed on it I might still not know whether you were real or imagined! A more likely scenario was that you were an actual Angel sent from to me from God. Man, it sounds too ridiculous and again I am sitting here saying, “No Catherine, you can’t say that to him. It’s weird and creepy and this poor fucking guy doesn’t need to hear this.” But as you can see, I’ve gone ahead and included the sentiment because it is very real to me and I feel as though I have nothing else to lose. Do you remember that during our visits there were times I just reached out and touched your face with my hand? I needed to feel your skin to convince myself you were real! Do you know how long I waited for a single human being to come looking for me inside this darkness? You can’t even begin to know. Please refer to “The Diary of My Perfection” and more specifically to the final plea I made to God just days before I left for France:
Well then, how about an angel? Can You send me another angel, and preferably one a little taller than two feet, and older and wiser than 15? Someone I can talk to? Someone to hold me and make me feel alive? How about someone who doesn’t think I’m just whining? Someone who understands my heart, my pain, my grief. How about one person that will look beyond my surface to find the broken little girl hiding inside herself? Someone who will hear me and not say everything is okay. How about someone who doesn’t think I’m perfect, or that all the things I have should preclude me from feeling any pain? And can You send me a hug, or a kiss, or a touch? Will anyone even want to touch me?
That was just rhetoric! A genuine prayer, but not one I was expecting to be answered. I cried out to God, and yes, I meant what I asked for, but it was more sarcasm on my part than anything. I think I told you that as I boarded that plane to France, I did so hoping for only the best in my wish to “leave some things behind” but not really expecting it to happen. I have almost become comfortable dragging these demons with me everywhere so a more likely outcome, which I’d have been fine with, was just a much-needed vacation with my son. Nothing more. Nothing less. I am all too accustomed to NOT getting the things I truly need or want!
Henrik, you walked onto that plane and stopped my heart! Like my daughter you too are strikingly beautiful and sitting beside you gave me peace. I just kept watching you, and the more I watched, the more I had to know you. Then watching you watch that baby? It melted me from the core in mere seconds. One sweet smile in that child’s direction and I was absolutely done. I wanted to jump out of my skin, into your existence and know who the hell you were and had NO IDEA how I’d manage the plane ride home if I couldn’t speak to you (although as you know I did try to resist). Everything inside of me just wanted to keep that hat pulled as far down over my eyes as possible and just “cry and think” my way home. What were you thinking? Only God Himself knows. Well, God and you that is. Can I tell you something else? When we parted ways at the airport that day, I can honestly say I did not think I’d ever hear from you again. For one thing, and to reiterate, I wasn’t even sure you actually existed in the first place. Those ten hours were just too sweet to be real. Second, I was scared to death thinking that you were just been being polite and kind since you were all but trapped with me there. I honestly didn’t think I’d hear from you again, which was fine, because just those hours alone carved a decade off filth off my soul.
So why was I compelled to slit open every one of my veins and so quickly spill the entire contents of my soul into your lap? I instantly trusted you Henrik and I don’t do that. I trust no one and am highly skeptical of everything and person I see. You looked into my eyes when we spoke and kept me there. I tried but couldn’t look away. I don’t do that either. In fact, that’s one of the things I’ve always had a problem with – making eye contact with people. Maybe that’s because I’ve been too afraid that if I actually did look someone in the eyes when I was speaking, and they actually looked back at me they’d see the rotted-out schism between my mind and body and run as far away as possible. I am petrified of people Henrik. Scared to death of anyone not of my womb. Surface level is all I can do. Nothing deeper. Don’t need it.
I’ve been thinking a lot about our conversation on the plane. Remember, I told you that the night before I had shed the very first layer of my skin with Adoram. But Henrik it was dark outside, and we were staring out into the ocean. When I spoke, I was just “speaking” and he was listening. It was almost as though I was a song playing on a radio that he couldn’t shut off. Poor fucking Adoram. The first of two innocent bystanders foolish enough to ask me “what’s wrong”. The first true casualty in the war of reconciling my soul. We drank, I cried, he stretched out his sleeve and wiped away my tears. But he wasn’t actually looking at me! I was in a very safe place talking to him … in the dark, no eye contact. But with you? Looking into your eyes comforted me and I wanted to stay there because it felt so good and safe. Do you remember what I wrote in The Diary about Gia? Some of the sweetest moments in my life have been those mornings she grabs my cheeks with her tiny little hands, forces me into eye lock and says, “I Love You Mommy”! It’s a miracle that she somehow intuitively knows this is what I need. But how did you?
So then, what of all our visits and chats? You have blown me out of the water Henrik and I’m not sure what to do with it. You hugged me so many times and with everyone I felt a steady release of pressure from deep within my core. Each time you hugged me my breathing got a little easier and the tight grip that constantly clenches the pit of my stomach loosened. That night when we stood in the parking lot? Do you remember that hug? The one where I had my face pressed sideways against your back and you pulled my arms around to the front of your chest? I could hear your heart beating Henrik and can still hear it even now! It sends chills up my spine when I close my eyes and remember. It was at that very moment that I decided if you were in fact an Angel you had to have been the kind that could actually manifest itself into a human body, because how else could I have felt so much from a being that didn’t exist?
The night that I gave you the music and the medal you were so concerned I had given you so many pieces of myself, but what had you given me? God man, you did give me a piece of yourself. Can’t you see that? How can you not see that? You gave me your kindness and true compassion and you gave me your eyes so that I could begin to find myself. You made me want to look into the mirror and try to see what you were seeing! For 16 years I have searched for my own reflection in another person’s eyes but could never find it. I looked into the mirror and felt ugly. I felt dirty, empty and invisible. I see the way people look at me but have never really understood it. What the hell could anyone possibly see? There’s nothing here. I’m hollow. “Lights, smoke and illusion!” Please, please, please Henrik, hear what I am saying: Last July, when it was finally time for the doctors to take the bandages off my chest and stomach, I came home and couldn’t even walk past a mirror, much less look inside one. I knew then that my destruction was finally complete but just didn’t know how to reckon myself with the reality. That’s when I decided to not EVER search for my missing reflection again, whether in a mirror or through the eyes of another! I just gave up. Two full days passed before I was finally able to take my shirt off and I couldn’t actually look at myself for weeks. When the day finally came, I just stood there and cried. I touched my scars, held my stomach, dropped down to my bathroom floor and cried for so many hours you can’t begin to imagine. I thought my life was over, which was par for the entire course, and I knew from that day on I would NEVER show “myself” to another living soul, whether physically or emotionally. When I was done crying, and God I remember this like it was yesterday, I stood up, wiped away my tears, straightened my shoulders and began to devise a plan that would allow me to continue the “grand illusion”. I got dressed, got in the car and had Him drive me to a little shop across town that carried prosthetic implants I could stuff inside my bra to disguise my mutilated chest. I walked back out of that shop a whole and “perfect” woman again. Got back home, pulled into the driveway and never looked back. I have played the game very well I might add with the cards I’ve been dealt in a manner that would cause no one I love to suffer.
So, then what of all that? Do you know that although you never asked (and I have to tell you I am more than impressed with your fortitude of principal), if you had I would have very willingly given myself to you? That’s what you gave me, Henrik … Breathe. Desire. I trusted you and trusted myself and would not have been afraid to let you see me. That is such a huge thing for me to both say AND realize. Every time I walked away from you, I walked away wanting to look into the mirror to try and see what you were seeing. That is what you gave meHenrik! You made me feel alive and important. You asked nothing from me and made me believe it was possible for someone to genuinely care for me as a human being worth trying to know beyond the surface. You made me feel beautiful! Absolutely, intensely and extraordinarily beautiful! I can look into a mirror now because of you and I’m no longer afraid of what I’ll see!
So, let me begin to close by letting you know how things are going for me now. As you can imagine, He is hurt, angry and wrecked beyond belief. You read it in his email. I can’t really say that I blame Him and if the shoes had been reversed, I probably would have written you something even worse. These weeks have been painful for Him. He feels jilted and remorseful and is finally beginning to realize the role He played in my becoming what I have over the years and how badly I needed Him all the while. We’ve talked and talked and talked some more and today I told Him all about you. Things no man no would ever want to hear from his wife: “A stranger walked onto my plane, into my life, ripped open my heart and saved it. I love him. Here are the reasons why.” Every one of the thoughts and feelings I have expressed to you herein have been made abrasively clear to Him by now and He knows that for as long as I’m alive on this Earth I will always hold a candle for you and that I will always eagerly await our communications. I think He’s sorry He’s not you and He wasn’t the one to reach me inside here, especially given the fact that He’s had almost 20 years to be the man who I felt so compelled to trust and give every single piece of myself to but instead chose to take me for granted. He understands that although we’ve decided to try for our children’s sake to co-exist and perhaps somehow repair the 19 years’ worth of mutual abuse, that either way I will always want you to be a part of my life. I told Him that if what He wants is for me to lie to Him and myself and say you never really mattered to me, that you will ever stop mattering to me or the two weeks between us never happened I would never be able to say and mean it. Lying to Him that way would not only be unfair to Him but would belittle one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever known, and I simply refuse to do it. I must convey all these things to Him somehow, clearly and concisely Henrik and still can’t believe that I have to do this. Again, with me and my recent cases of “don’t do it Catherine” but then I do it anyway. He is hurting so much but I won’t lie to Him, myself or anyone else ever again!
So, now are you beginning to understand? You know, along with every other thing you have given me, these last weeks have also helped bring closure to one of the most painful chapters of my story, the life and death of my relationship with Mitch, my “blaze of glory“. I loved him Henrik, so deeply, and as much as I possibly could have given the heart I had to work with at the time. But you see, he and I came together at intersections in our lives where we had both begun unraveling. We were equally broken and sick together and hid our pasts away within the safety of an unconditional love. I found him, or he found me, not sure which one, not too long after my rape. He was recovering from his own self-destruction and had only recently spent four years at Angola State Prison in Louisiana for a series of really stupid decisions. He too was violated inside that place, many times in fact, and his time in prison hardened him in ways that even he didn’t realize. We shared that bond – the violation of our most sacred temples, our bodies. I didn’t even have to tell him what that night in the parking garage had done to me. He already knew firsthand! So, then we came together, each having found a safe, warm place to be broken. There were nights that this man, this six-foot, three-inch vision of masculinity and strength would cry himself to sleep in my arms because he couldn’t find his reflection either! He too was an illusion to most everyone he knew and all he saw when he looked into his mirror was a body with its manhood completely excised from its being. He’d served the sentence but was never able to leave his prison. There were so many times that he would look at me and say, “Thank you Catherine … thank you for loving me. Thank you for letting me be me again.” He said I made him feel alive inside for the first time in all his years and that he had never felt so completely safe with another person. He said that each time we were together he was more able to leave his stolen virtue behind and remember what it felt like to be a man. But you see until now I didn’t really understand how profound his words to me were. I appreciated hearing all the things that he would say and the gratitude and sentiment he showed me every single day we were together. But only now do I understand exactly how he must have been feeling. Henrik, for ten years I have tried to understand “why”? Why did God put Him in my life only to take him away? What was it all for? What did it mean? I can’t believe that a decade later I finally understand: It was ME God placed in HIS life just as YOU were placed in MINE! The plan was never “forever”. Maybe I was his Angel? That man was tortured from the inside out for all that he’d done and had been through and was an empty, walking shell when I found him. I know with every shred of my being that the night he left this world he left knowing how beautiful he was and how it felt to be truly valued! He died having known compassion – true and unconditional love and friendship – and having been able to give himself, show himself and be “seen” by another human being completely. I did that Henrik. I did that! I did for him that you have done for me and now I can finally let him go.
We have given ourselves a year or maybe even longer. He needs to do some serious soul-searching and self-repair as well if this is ever going to work. He too has been damaged by his past, our past, and also needs to shed some skin. We have tortured and abused each other to the point of no return but our history together has got to count for something. We are living here together and will remain married on paper but are separated in every other way. He’ll do His thing, I’ll do mine … basically nothing will change as this is how we’ve existed for years. Only now there are no false pretenses or expectations as to what we either can or can’t make of this farce of a marriage. I won’t lay in a bed with Him or any other man for that matter and give myself completely unless I can honestly see myself as beautiful and whole in someone’s eyes as I felt in yours. That is what I want, that is what I need, and after 20 years of living this way, I will settle for nothing less! What I want and need probably most of all is to finally be able to have my own husband, the man I’ve been chasing endlessly around for almost 20 years, try to begin to see who I am, what I am, what I’ve become and be the one who I can truly connect with, and not in the imaginary way it has been this whole time. Maybe, just maybe, then the years of chasing Him will not have been in vain and the hole He left in my heart can be patched and filled. This next year will be about legitimately trying to find and repair ourselves, separately. When the time is right, and who knows when that will be, we’ll begin to spend some time together, try to get to know the new, healthier people we will hopefully each be becoming and see if there is any shred of hope left between us other than our kids that we can salvage. I honestly don’t foresee that happening at this point and I think He is a little more hopeful than I am. That is probably because I truly don’t know if I’ll ever be able to look into His eyes and not see the huge joke He sees in me reflecting back. We’ve pushed each other and pushed each other and then pushed each other some more and now it seems we’re so far away that all this could be pointless. There is so much water under our bridge and so many damaging things have been said between us over and over and over … many of which still ring inside my ears, and probably his even as I write this. But I will give it my best effort for the love of my children and because I do love Him as well. Twenty years are too many to throw away and something tells me that if ever it were possible for Him to really look at me and see me as you did then our relationship could truly come full circle. How we’re gonna make that happen? I have absolutely no idea. I think He does truly love me somewhere deep inside, but I need to know the reasons why. Does He love me because I am the mother of his children, and He doesn’t want to hurt or leave them? Does He love me because He only thinks He loves me, and He really doesn’t want to give up or fail? He needs to find an honest place, as painful as that may be, to land when it comes to me. I think right now the person who came back from France is scaring Him half to death and maybe He has no idea how to love the “healthy person” that actually knows for the first time in her life what she truly wants and needs.
Like me, He has a lot on his plate and now it is His turn to deal with the demons He’s been harboring inside himself. What worries me most is that I’m not even sure He realizes how damaged He is inside because I know if we’re ever going to truly be able to love and know each other and have the actual, “real thing”, He will first have to come to the place that I have. That’s a little scary though because there is a fair enough chance that once He dissects it all from deep inside out, He’ll realize that He never even loved me in the first place. That too is a chance I will have to take in all this. Only God knows if will ever be possible for us fully connect on every emotional and physical level the way that I know I need to. It’s just going to take some work. Lots of time and lots of work. I feel very sorry for Him because I know that He’s hurting. Far above and beyond everything else that this next year will bring He will also have to reconcile himself with the fact that He now lives here with not only me, but yet another ghost in my heart as well. Your shoes, my friend, will be incredibly hard for Him to fill but now I know that just about anything is possible. Maybe, just maybe, God will send Him an Angel too.
In the meantime, know that I am fully aware that within the confines of these pages have been set forth so many open parameters that you may feel as though I have overstepped any possible bounds of reality. You may actually find after having read this letter that you think I am surely insane and perhaps it would be in your best interest to say goodbye, call me a “friend of sorts” and walk away scratching your head. I am prepared for that consequence, won’t like it, but will accept it if I must. I will respect any of your wishes as far as which category you would like to place me to best suit your life and needs. I can’t really imagine how I would feel if I was in your shoes. You’ve just been handed a lifetime sentence of lingering in my life and mind. Only, you can choose not to accept the “in my life” part of your sentence and simply walk away. Fortunately, your participation is not at all required for the latter. You are here in me for as long as I’m alive and there is no amount of time that will ever change that.
Oh, and one last thing. You know by now that one of the things we shared was a similarly intense love of music and that in my life when I have been unable to “otherwise speak” or “feel” it has always been my music. So, here is the song of my life. “So Far Away”. I imagine that it is the one song that will be playing the loudest in my head if the day finally comes for me to walk away from here for good. God only knows that sooner or later it may be time for me to move on once and for all and start over fresh somewhere else. Believe it or not, I kinda love you Henrik. You truly ARE an angel to me! Please pray for me and my family, as I’m sure you already are, and more than anything please take these words for whatever they are worth to you. Or don’t take them at all. Either way, they remain. Catherine
SO FAR AWAY
This is my life – it’s not what it was before, all these feelings I’ve shared. And these are my dreams that I’d never lived before. Somebody shake me cause I, I must be sleeping. Now that we’re here, it’s so far away. All the struggle that I thought was in vain. All the mistakes one life contained; they all finally start to go away. Now that we’re here it’s so far away, and I feel like I can face the day. I can forgive and I’m not ashamed to be the person that I am today. These are my words that I’ve never said before, I think I’m doing ok. And this is the smile that I’ve never shown before. Somebody shake me cause I, I must be sleeping … I’m so afraid of waking. Please don’t shake me. {Staind}
I didn’t know why I was going to cry, but I knew that if anybody spoke to me or looked at me too closely the tears would fly out of my eyes and the sobs would fly out of the throat and I’d cry for a week.
Everyone was packing for the journey back to home, but I was on pins and needles. Since my bags were ready, I’d decided to walk down to the water to clear my head once more before we left. On the way down the boulevard in Beaulieu-Sur-Mer, I ran into our tour guide, Adoram, who was heading back to the hotel after having been out with our driver, Pierre.
Adoram was a lovely Israeli man who everyone on tour fell in love with. I the sensed that he was an empath who was deeply concerned with the human condition, and it was clear that he fervently loved not only France, but even more so his job sharing it. He didn’t work from a script; his musings came from a place of pure love and adoration as he described the things we saw. He’d even managed to capture the attention of the boys who were the reason for our trip, which of course was a feat. As you can imagine, your average teenager wants as much to do with the history of a foreign country then waking at 6:00 a.m. on a summer vacation in the first place. Adoram and I had spoken often while on tour, and on several occasions he’d commented that I’d seemed even “farther away” than the trip itself. “How are you, Cat”, he asked me many times, but I would just change the subject, as I didn’t want to become too heavy and truly wanted to stay immersed in the experience.
That night, Adoram and Pierre had caught me heading down to the waterfront around 9pm, as they were heading back up. He wanted to know where I was going, and didn’t want me wandering alone in the dark. So, he turned to Pierre, uttered something in French, then turned to follow me back down the hill.
Well Cat, I’m not thrilled with you out here alone in the dark like this, so you can go and sit by the water as long as you like, but I’m afraid I’ll be joining you.
After much resistance on my part, but insistence on his, and having repeatedly said my stroll was for sightseeing only, we finally began talking about life in general and then about “what had me staring so far out the windows of the bus each day“. He was such a good listener, never once interrupting my thoughts, and in fact was quite easy to talk to. “What’s really bothering you, Cat”, is what he wanted to know. With that, I talked, then cried, then drank Sambuca, then cried and talked some more, then breathed … then finished.
When I was done telling him all “the things”, he fixed his gaze upon the shoreline like a deer caught in the headlights as we sat quietly staring into the abyss for what seemed like eternity. “Okay”, I said, “THIS is where you pat me on the back and tell me how beautiful my life is NOW!” Still, no response. “… AND”, I continued, “THIS is where everyone else usually tells me “everything’s gonna be okay and everything happens for a reason“. Then, he turned to me and spoke the words I never knew I’d needed to hear:
No, Catherine! NONE of this is okay, and none of this may EVER be okay! You have had some HUGELY rotten shit happen to you, and I can hardly believe that you’re still here to talk about it!
Adoram Schneidleder … my beautiful Israeli tour guide … the first of any to validate my broken feelings and help me begin to shed my skin on the coast of France in the wee hours of dawn. I’d begun to find my voice!
As we walked back to the hotel, I felt lighter than I had in what felt like a century, a sensation I couldn’t quite relate to. Yet, somehow it felt SO good! He hugged me so tight before I headed to my room. I thanked him profusely and said I felt as though I was about to have a truly restful sleepfor what was left of the morning. And? I DID! I laid my head on the pillow and closed my eyes for the first time in years and drifted peacefully to sleep! No drugs. No alcohol. No food. No anesthesia. Nothing to medicate my slumber! I fell asleep on my own and awoke feeling reborn.
The lobby was abuzz that morning with clamoring of travelers and their suitcases. Adoram was busy answering questions, directing traffic and saying his goodbyes. It felt a little uneasy with him at that point, as I wasn’t exactly sure how he may have received and digested our conversation just hours earlier and was a bit uneasy to approach him. It had only been a couple of hours since he had brazenly walked through the gauntlet of my mind and he had to have thought I was insane. When we got to the airport though and immediately after he hugged me goodbye, he handed me an envelope with this note inside:
Dear Cat,
Since on tour there are not many moments for communication, and tomorrow we probably won’t get the chance, I decided to write you a note. Your story – that you shared with me last night – is huge. I did not at any point feel that you were being either inconsiderate, selfish or just “needy” by sharing it with me. And, if having “unloaded” some weight with me has helped you see things clearer, then I actually feel honored to have been able to help. No fears whatsoever. And I hope you will sleep as well tonight as you did last night and that you will continue this way forever. I understand that it was important to unload – and probably being in a foreign country and doing with a stranger who would listen was the best way. I’m happy to have been that person for you. You have gone through some real heavy shit. Don’t ever forget it! And, don’t lose to consciousness of your inner strength. You have it – it’s there! Don’t forget to take care of yourself – of your needs and desires – while you give everything you have to your family. If you don’t take care of yourself, you won’t be able to take care of them. I am sure they love and need you. I know Christian does. I can see it in his eyes and in the way that he looks at you. Take care of yourself girl! You’re a wonderful woman and you’ve got lots to give others and to yourself! It was a pleasure meeting you!
~ Adoram
SHED MY SKIN
I am not alone. I live with the memories; regret is my home. This is my true freedom. Express all the feelings of what I’ve become. I watch the rising sun. I hope I find some peace today. It seems I’ve gone away. It seems I’ve lost myself; it seems I’ve really lost my way. It seems I’ve lost myself; it seems I’ve shed my skin. Are you ready for me to purge my love? Are you ready for me? A bitter sinking feeling. Awake to the fact there’s no going back to this world in which I was living. I’m searching for something but found less than nothing.
This trip is almost over, and while I’ve made a strong push against The Dragon, part of me is still so sad. The tours have been long and the sights overwhelming, but I am at home in this country. Being here brings me a grounded sense of wholeness and peace that’s impossible to describe. Its history beckons me and calls to mind that although these last sixteen years have felt so treacherous, they’re merely a blip on the radar of my life.
As I’ve wandered here through each village in a perpetual state of eyes wired shut, I’ve imagined having been here in some other space and time walking these very same roads. What did it look like? How did it smell? How did it sound, taste, and feel? So many battles have been fought here and many of these sights have been desecrated and rebuilt, if only to emerge even more breathtakingly beautiful than before. Countless pools of human blood, sweat, and tears have soaked these fervent soils, yet still her flowers bloom.
So, what does France tell me? What does she scream to my soul? It says that humanity is but a history of sometimes less than optimal circumstances leading to either growth or death in endless abound. Each sunset begs the opportunity for me to leave the past behind and awaken to a horizon that hands me infinite choices, beginnings, and endings. My history can really mean something if I let it, even if I never personally witness the outcome.
I analyze everything, I know what you mean. I answer by questioning all that I need. And I want you to surrender, I want you to see all the signs, all the faces inside of me. I see I’m not perfect, but that’s all I see. Lost in a portrait in a picture of me … this can’t be everything I see. Then my canvas is incomplete. Your color’s everything to me, and my canvas will set me free. My outline’s solid and made up of crying. And nothing’s that you say just burn my eyes. I want to surrender; I want you to find some comfort in the spaces between the lines. {Trapt}
Even before Your hand made the Heavens. Even before the breath of all mankind. Even before we had to be forgiven … You were on Your throne. You were on Your throne. You reign. Glory in the highest, You reign. Let creation testify by Your name. Every knee will bow and every tongue proclaim … that Jesus reigns.
So, what exactly is happening here? I’m not quite sure what I’m feeling. When I heard this song today, literally every bone in my body and accompanying muscle attached started aching in the best way possible. Surely this must mean something? It’s like He’s trying to tell me something by speaking directly to my soul. He must have heard my prayer:
I need to talk to You. Or rather, I have some questions, so please just be perfectly honest. You’re not done with me, are You? Is my bright destiny just up ahead? Is it happening even as I write this? The future’s gonna be good, right? Things are gonna start getting better? Those two babies you sent need their mom to be okay so I can help them reach their own destinies. Can’t You just wave Your magic wand?
Why was he crying when we pulled away? I didn’t understand it at all. Was he crying for her, or because Christian was leaving, too? Or did he somehow know that I was never coming home again? The distance between us is light years by now, so surely, it’s not me he’ll be missing. My roommate … my friend … my “hero”. I mean, he truly is all those things that I’ve said before: Self-made, hard-working, and I’m pretty sure that he’s been faithful. Nineteen years of going back and forth can’t have been a complete and total lie.
Even so, we are only roommates … nothing more and nothing less. In my heart of hearts, I think I’ve always known that he never really wanted to marry me in the first place. Maybe someday he’ll realize it, too. We kill each other, sling mud at each other, and rip open each other’s raw wounds. We were a toxic collision right from the start, and I’ve known this all along.
I’ve stood in front of him begging and pleading at least a thousand times now, but he keeps telling me to just go away. He’s always said that his words are only ever said in anger, but his actions and inactions always spoken volumes. He lives in a place a million miles away from me, so, why then was he crying? Wasn’t this what he wanted?
Don’t let the door hit you in the ass!
I’ve often said that he’s never left my side, but that’s not really true. I have been on my own where my mental wealth is concerned, and now he just thinks I’m a raving lunatic. “A pathetic, joke of a human being”, he once said. “A huge fucking joke of a human being!”
Oh, God, there goes my daughter. The limo is pulling away and she is crying, too. What I’m most scared of in this very moment is that the tiny dancer waving goodbye to her mommy is in danger of becoming me. Is this what I want her to become? What if she gets into a tangle of her own with my dragon? What if she turns 38 one day and can’t find her own reflection in the mirror? That baby will learn what she lives, and will only become the woman I teach her to be. So, how can I teach her to become a strong and healthy woman when I don’t know how to be one myself? How will I teach her to love herself when I can’t practice what I preach?
LOST REALIST
My independence is calling my name, a doubtful voice divides my faith. My independence only hesitates an unsure choice I can’t embrace. You’re gonna have to carve me, carve me from stone, right to the bone or I’ll end up alone. I’m paying the role of someone in control. Why do I rush to slow down? Why do I rush to slow down everything? Will the dice ever roll? When will I ever know? Will the plot ever twist, or will I still resist? I’ve been playing the part of a lost realist. My independence is turning the page, tomorrow comes we start to fade. My independence only complicates, it’s not enough to meet half way. I only keep what I give awa
It’s down to this: I’ve got to make this life make sense. Can anyone tell what I’ve done? I miss the life … I miss the colors of the world. Can anyone tell where I am? ‘Cause now again I’ve found myself so far down away from the sun that shines into the darkest place. I’m so far down, away from the sun again. I’m over this. I’m tired of living in the dark. Can anyone see me down here? The feeling’s gone. There’s nothing left to lift me up back into the world I know.
(3 Doors Down)
I need to talk to You. Or rather, I have some questions, so please just be perfectly honest. You’re not done with me, are You? Is my bright destiny just up ahead? Is it happening even as I write this? The future’s gonna be good, right? Things are gonna start getting better? Those two babies you sent need their mom to be okay so I can help them reach their own destinies? Can’t You just wave Your magic wand?
Do You ever hear me crying, and if so, does it even bother You? And what ever happened to that “Sea Of Forgetfulness” I’ve heard so much about? The one where YOU forgive and WE forget, then move on about our way. It’s just not working with all these ghosts inside my head. Can’t You just make them go away? That memory of me on the front bench of that truck? The smell of the beer on his breath? Can’t You just erase it? Or how about that boy who hit the wall and cracked his head open? I could definitely do without THAT one. And what about the day You dropped that tiny girl in the palm of my hands JUST so I could watch her suffocate? You know? That same tiny girl who TRIED to hold my hand, but couldn’t even grasp my finger. I’m NOT loving that. It’s not working for me at all! I get it, she’s gone.I was there, don’t You know? Help me understand why I had to give her back. It’s just not natural. That’s NOT how it’s supposed to go. MOMMIES AREN’T SUPPOSED TO BURY THEIR BABIES! It’s enough. I’VE HAD ENOUGH! Please can You take this away?
Am I still Your daughter, or did You forget me? Surely You remember how it felt to watch Your Son die. Well, I’m dying, too, and I’ve had ALL that I can handle. PLEASE won’t You help me? You’re God. You can fix anything! Are You mad at me? What did I do? Oh, wait, I think I know. Well, can’t You just forgive me for that now?
Well, then how about an angel? Can You send me another angel? Preferably one who’s more than two feet tall and older and wiser than 15? Someone I can talk to. Someone who will listen. Someone who wants to hear what I have to say. Someone to hold me and remind me that I’m alive. Someone who will look beyond my surface and find the broken little girl hiding inside my soul. Someone who doesn’t think I’m whining, or dramatic, ungrateful, and pathetic. Someone who doesn’t think I’m just a crazy fucking bitch, or that all the “things” I have should preclude me from feeling pain. Someone who’ll accept my broken heart and all my darkness and not hold “me” over my head. I NEED A HUG! Can You send me a hug? Or a kiss? Or a touch? Will anyone ever want to touch me?
“I keep trying to find a life, on my own, apart from you. I am the [Queen] of excuses – I’ve got one for every selfish thing I do. The disease of self runs through my blood – It’s a cancer fatal to my soul. Every attempt on my behalf has failed, to bring this sickness under control. Tell me, what’s going on inside of me? I despise my own behavior. This only serves to confirm my suspicions that I’m still a girl in need of a Savior.”
(D.C. Talk)
🎶
This song is my mantra, yet how many times have I listened to it? Over and over and over again, but I can’t actually swallow the words. Instead, I just swallow every bit of rage and sadness that is hiding within me, then release it into a dark and obscured oblivion that I cannot find my way out of.
My “disease of self” has overtaken my life. My teeth are rotting, my throat is raw, there’s a permanent scar etched across my knuckle, and oh, yah, I think I’ve given myself cancer. My heart is arrhythmic, I feel dizzy when I stand too fast, and I’ve cracked open some blood vessels in my eye. I’m seeing a doctor tomorrow and I think I may have to cop to my little secret for the first time in my life. Dear GOD, please give me the courage to tell the truth! I’ve been locked inside my bathroom every night while my precious daughter sleeps peacefully just footsteps away from the door with this slow and steady process of suicide.
I never thought I would be one of those women who let an eating disorder control every aspect of their lives, and I don’t believe in “statistics”. I’ve known long well that this was never about the food, but rather, some pathetic attempt to continually purge myself of a lifetime of guilt, shame, and rage. It was the sick sense of order I thought I was maintaining over the contradiction which had become my existence:
My Rules!
My Choices!
My Food!
MY CONTROL!
I’ve worked so hard to plan my days carefully and carve away my quiet time with her. For more than half my life she’s been the keeper of my deepest and darkest secrets. I’ve trusted her unconditionally with the most painful of my feelings that I could let to the surface, yet somehow, she has betrayed me. My lifelong confidant brought me a comfort and safety that I’d somehow forgotten to know and satiated the emptiest places inside my body and soul with a satisfaction of fullness and order. We were euphoric together, and sometimes almost magical, but that calm, quiet happiness we shared never lasted for more than a moment, and all too quickly brought the continual shame and self-loathing which is all I can see in a mirror. My euphoria would end, so we’d begin the dance again to the most hypnotic rhythm of them all.
Time has had its way with me … My broken, tired hands can’t build a thing. The wires that have held me still embedded now in flesh, define my will. The idle of my days has won, the empty I have fed has made me numb. Despite what you will find in me, the failures of my past still swell beneath. I need a heart that carries on through the pain when the walls start collapsing again. Give me a soul that never ceases to follow despite the infection within. Our careless feet leaving trails, never minding the fragile dirt we all end in. This is where I find my fall … The cares that held me life don’t work at all. And every step away from here is closer to the plague I hold so dear. Awaiting my end … Breathing in the day that finds me new … Redemption begins, bleeding out the flaws in place of You. {Demon Hunter}
Hold me now I need to feel relief. Like I never wanted anything. I suppose I’ll let this go and find a reason I’ll hold on to. I’m so ashamed of defeat. And I’m out of reason to believe in me. I’m out of trying to get by. I’m so afraid of the gift You give me. I don’t belong here and I’m not well. I’m so ashamed of the lie I’m living right on the wrong side of it all. I can’t face myself when I wake up and look inside a mirror. I’m so ashamed of that thing. I suppose I’ll let it go ’til I have something more to say for me. I’m so afraid of defeat. And I’m out of reason to believe in me. I’m out of trying to defy. I’m so afraid of the gift You give me. I don’t belong here and I’m not well. I’m so ashamed of the lie I’m living right on the wrong side of it all. Hold me now I need to feel complete. Like I matter to The One I need. I’m so afraid of the gift You give me. I don’t belong here and I’m not well. I’m so ashamed of the lie I’m living right on the wrong side of it all. Now I’m ashamed of this. {Seether}
Well, perhaps actually penning the words to a complete and total stranger was the just the pin prick my heart valves needed to effect the slow release of toxins from my system. I mean, so much of what I wrote to her was true, but then again, so much of it was a lie. Everything about her and what I could gather from her story showed me that somehow, somewhere, there is a light at the end of every tunnel. Could it be that my resurrection is much closer than I know? It truly feels as though I am getting a little closer to bridging that proverbial gap.
My “surface level only” policy where relationships are concerned is fast becoming a sham and I desperately need to make the words therein my letter to her real. In the meantime, I’m still alive, though not-so-well here in my beautiful ivory tower as I continue my rule over a magical kingdom where everything appears to be perfect. “Queen Catherine The Perfect”: Perfect life … perfect family … perfect house … perfect car … perfectly happy, with all the perfect things that accompany my perfection. I’m the envy of every woman I know, covered in diamonds from head to toe, with a loving husband by my side at every turn (or so it seems). I play this perfect role so that my family remains happy and blissfully unscathed by all the secrets from my past, and so the painful memories I have yet to leave behind don’t interfere with their lives in any way.
It seems like only yesterday when a stranger took my innocence, and since that moment Fate has continued to rape me. It’s been just about a year since I entered that hospital, spirit broken, but body still somewhat whole. One week later I walked back out, leaving behind the last remnants of what once made me a woman. The physical scars that I wear now are now clear and tactile proof that I am nothing but an empty shell. These years were not imagined – they were real! At night sometimes I cry, grasping my pillow tightly so the precious baby girl sleeping beside me doesn’t hear. Then in morning I awake and prepare myself for the day that awaits and walk out of my bedroom an illusion. My children greet me with their glorious smiles, ignorant to my pain, and this is the way it is.
Despite the seemingly outward perfection, my soul is hollow, and I feel alone, abandoned, and sick, if not “a cancer” to the entirety of mankind. The mental camera in my head just can’t seem to help itself from constantly flipping back and forth through all the erosion, toxicity and filth inside my mind.
Each day that passes is drawing me closer to something spinning hopelessly out of control. My day of reckoning is fast approaching and may be just around the corner. I can feel the ripples just beneath my skin as my realities are boiling to the surface. The unrelenting knot in the pit of my stomach and heart is getting tighter with each day that passes and it’s getting harder for me to breath. I am shaking, anxious, and, oh, yeah, a total fraud!
Just up ahead, I think I can see the front of the proverbial bridge, but how can I make my legs actually move across it? If I actually make it across, what there will I find? Are there secrets about myself and even my “seemingly perfect childhood” that are still yet for me to discover? We shall see. Dearest Catherine, “Queen Of Perfection”, surely you can perfect this dance?
THE REAL LIFE
I wanted to find somewhere to hide, and I opened up and left those fears inside. And I wanted to be anyone else, only to find that there was no one there but me. But I woke up to real life and I realized it’s not worth running from anymore. When there was nowhere left to hide, I found out that nothing’s real here, but I won’t stop now until I find a better part of me. I let those hard days get me down, and all the things I hate got in my way. I could have screamed without a sound, I found myself silenced by those things they say. But I won’t stop now until I find a better part of me that’s out there somewhere, and it can’t be that far away. That’s where I’ll find myself, and I’ll find my way out. That’s where I’ll find out. {3 Doors Down}
Let me preface by stating that never once in 38 years have, I done something this crazy; that is, writing a letter to a complete and total stranger. Let me also tell you that those who know me well know that I am not the type of person who is easily impressed by fame, fortune or even people in general. To me, the true measure of a man (or woman) is forged by the spirit of the unseen things inside their hearts. That being said … My name is Catherine and I only live a few miles north of you in Fairview, Texas. I just happened to catch the middle of your “Whose Wedding Is It Anyway” episode this week. Since I only caught half of the show, I don’t really know the whole story. Yet, from what little I did decipher, I want you to know how completely taken I was … and inspired!
I have had a good life. I come from a loving home, my parents are still married (40 years this July), both hard-working, upper-middle class people who built their successes with only blood, sweat, tears and their own hands. I am perhaps obscenely if not codependently close to my parents and only sister, and in fact have the very good fortune of living only six doors down from Mom and Dad and seven miles away from Sis. I see or speak to my family daily, and they are integral parts of my children’s lives. My husband is also a self-made, hard-working man who, after having been told repeatedly by his physically and emotionally abusive stepfather that he would never amount to anything, has created a more than abundant life for our family out here in Fairview. The man has worked made it his mission to give us nothing but the absolute best things this world has to offer. Thus, he has more than exceeded even my own expectations of him.
Despite all this, lately many a day has found me feeling intensely sorry for myself and not able to truly “bridge the gap” between the very intense last decade and a half that I have struggled with and the life that I now live. I was raped in 1992 when my husband and I had only been married five months, became pregnant, divorced, had a full-blown nervous breakdown, suicide attempt, and a whole lot of other stuff in between. Eventually, though, I found my way back to “the man who wasn’t supposed to amount to anything”, a man who patiently waited for me to find my way back home. We remarried in 1998, and things were getting back on track. But alas! Can anything ever be simple and peaceful for too long?
After trying to conceive for 4½ years we finally became pregnant with our second child, a teeny tiny little girl who died in my arms only four hours after her birth in 1991. Meanwhile, a serious of rather unfortunate events have caused my own breasts to become, what I am told, something like that of a cancer patient. I cannot look at my bare chest in the mirror and cannot let my husband see me naked or touch me. So, then, although I am truly blessed in many, many ways (not the least of which blessings is the very healthy and happy little girl that we finally did conceive, who is now 2½ years old), I do find myself wallowing in self-pity many a day. So, that afternoon I was tiptoeing through the bedroom, so as not to wake the sleeping baby in my bed, carrying some towels I had just folded to the closet. On the way I stopped at the nightstand to grab the remote and lower the T.V. volume but happened to point it at the screen right at the moment you were walking out of the dressing room to reveal your beautiful gown to your wedding planner. There I stood paralyzed, clutching the towels over what’s left of my chest with one hand, holding the remote with the other, completely frozen and enthralled by the story. I couldn’t stop watching, and then I started to cry, and by the time you made your vows, the remnants of my morning mascara had already found their way to the bottom of my chin. At first, the tears were a combination of true joy for you, and sorrow for me. But then something changed. I saw the way you looked into your husband’s eyes while you were saying your vows. You looked like a little girl standing in a room filled with every wish and dream she had ever had! Then, it dawned on me. Here was this beautiful, mature, amazingly courageous woman who had looked death straight in the eye only a year before, only to find herself a survivor facing her future! After everything each of you must have experienced in your lives on the way to that exact moment … two lifetimes of intricacies and fullness, battles fought and won, you stood there in front of each other not taking a single second for granted. Then, there was me … scarred, yes, but alive and healthy in a house filled with the love, laughter, happiness, and joy from my children’s voices. My future is right here in front of me, and it has been all the while. How ashamed I am of the things I have taken for granted!
Why it took me so long to “get it”, I have absolutely no idea. But then again, I’m a firm believer in not only fate, but also the theory that “there’s a meaning in every moment”. I believe that God Himself had me fold those towels and carry them back to the bedroom at the exact He did for the sole purpose of catching my attention, opening my eyes, my ears, and my heart, and finally beginning to “bridge the gap”.
What an amazing inspiration you are, Marlane! I can’t remember ever having seen a more beautiful bride in my entire life. Sadly, marriage is not the sacred institution that it used to be. People make vows flippantly and then break them, as if they are only cheap souvenirs that can be thrown away and replaced. Get married, get divorced, nothing gained/nothing lost. Unfortunately, statistics show that sooner or later, someone I know … perhaps my Mother, Sister, or God forbid, my own Daughter, may have to face such a battle before it is all said and done. Should that day ever come, I can only pray that I or my loved one will be able to face it head-on in the graceful and beautiful manner that you did. You are a remarkable woman, and please know that you, and your story, have not only inspired, but challenged a complete and total stranger to never, ever take another moment for granted. Thank you, Marlane, and God Bless You!
Just take a look inside this haunted place. No soul alive is left alive, not one single face. This desecration that is alright, this devastation in my life. What’s killing me are all these things I do from hate. Don’t excuse me when I am the one to blame. No, I can’t explain why all these things I do from hate. Don’t excuse me when I am the one who’s haunting me. This final breath we have to take defeated by my own mistakes. Your devastation that proceeds your life, exposing the answers even if it burns me alive. {The Leo Project}
So many tears, so many prayers, so very many years! On July 18, 2005, God sent you to us, our Bitty Tiny Princess, our precious baby girl! By the time you are old enough to read this letter, you will no doubt have heard the stories (probably over and over again) about just what we went through to get you here and how very special you are! You are a miracle Gia, a true and living miracle!
As I am writing this, you are exactly 8 months old and already a shining star! You’re a constant joy in all our lives, making us endlessly laugh and smile. You should know that since the day that you were born not one of those days has passed that someone or another hasn’t commented on what a beauty you are … always smiling … always happy … and always with that sparkle in your eyes!
I promise you, Gloria Catherine, that I will do everything in my power to give you the best of what this life has to offer, not the least of which is love, security and home. You are surrounded by people who have been under your little spell from the minute you were born, especially your Daddy and Christian. These are the men who you adore most of all, and who no doubt you will be driving completely crazy by the time you turn 13! Oh, my Gia, what a life you have ahead of you! You are a treasure beyond measure beyond our wildest dreams! I will journey to you along the way, starting here with this first book, so that one day you can look back at the memories, the story of your life, and just how precious you are. Always remember, no matter what, that you are a living angel, and although it will be years before you understand what this means, please know that I will literally break my own heart into a thousand pieces before letting anyone else break yours. You are my brand new start.
Gloria Catherine, who soon became our “Gia” and yet another phoenix rising, finally graced us with her presence on July 18, 2005, about a year and a half after Gina Marie left us. She was then, and has since remained, the perfectly beautiful storm of a dancer who for so many years would just grab my face every morning and say, “I love you beautiful Mommy” as if she somehow intuitively knew that forcing me into that eye-lock was cleansing, preparing and allowing me to soar through each new day that has become our journey.
And so to, it was that my first true prince, my one and only son, has alongside his new sister remained one of my few and only heroes. Up until that, and sadly even more so in the years to come, he had seen, heard and felt more so much more than any human’s fair share of emotional turmoil, abuse and suffering. My babies were my lifeforce and every breathe that I was taking, and I was determined to find a way to get out of the web we’d all been born to. There is nothing I wouldn’t have done, given or sacrificed for either of their futures, up to and including myself.
How could I have ever imagined that on this bright, crisp morning I would leave my house blissfully fat and pregnant, only to return two days later once again empty and shattered? At a little more than halfway through my pregnancy, I woke up with what I thought were only cramps. I wasn’t too worried though, and in fact, had even tried convincing my husband, who wanted to take me to the hospital just to be safe, that I was fine and could wait until Monday to see the doctor. We had finally gotten settled into the new house, and on this particular Sunday there were NFL playoffs that I didn’t want him to miss. He was exhausted from the move and deserved a day off, and I knew that even a “quick trip” to the ER could possibly mean hours of our Sunday, and I just didn’t think it was necessary.
I thought about calling my parents, but opted not to worry them unnecessarily, as I truly believed that everything was fine and didn’t want to wake them. When we got to the hospital, we waited to be seen for almost an hour, all the while, my pain continually increasing. By 9am, I decided to go ahead and have him call my parents since they were probably awake by then, just to keep them in the loop. He never actually spoke to them, though, but instead, an aunt who was visiting at the time got the message. He told her what was happening and asked her to let them know, but also that everything was probably fine and we’d call them when we got home.
While Pete was on the phone, I’d gone to the restroom. No sooner did the door shut behind me did I realize that something was really wrong. As I walked back out towards Pete, I collapsed in the lobby and was soon being rushed to the ER. Meanwhile, against my instance to the contrary, my parents had already left their house which was just a few miles from the hospital.
Ten minutes later, and not less than two minutes before I delivered her, my Mother found her way to my room. There she stood holding my right hand while Pete was holding my left when Gina Marie, our precious baby girl, graced us all with her brief but powerful presence. She was 9 inches long and weighed just over a pound.
The few hours she lived were the longest of my life, and there are no words to describe my anguish. The baby I had prayed desperately for on my literal hands and knees had been cruelly ripped from my womb and now I held her broken little body in my arms. She kept trying to hold on to my finger, but her tiny hand was too small to grasp it. I couldn’t take my eyes off her as I helplessly watched her gasping for air and struggling to live, then watched her take her very last breath.
I struggled for so long to find a single good thing that came from all that heartache and trauma, as it is something I will truly never understand. But what I can tell you is that there in that otherwise frigid hospital room, racked with grief and agony in my very darkest of hours, I had never felt so truly loved. How blessed was I to be surrounded by all the people I loved and cared for the most and who loved me in all the best ways they knew how? My husband, who after all he went through to bring that little girl into my life, and who despite my best efforts to push him away never once in our lifetime together at that point had ever physically left my side. My father, who despite his shortcomings, did seem to love me in all the best ways he knew how, and despite our many battles, I know would have traded his life for my daughter’s in that moment. My sister and one true and unconditional rock, there at the foot of my bed on her hands and knees sobbing inconsolably for the indescribable pain that I was in, that if she could have, I know she would have taken from me. And, of course, my beautiful mother who has loved me all the days of my life and I was blessed to have standing beside me when each of my children came into this world, and then again when one of them left it.
Where’s the Navigator of your destiny? Where is the Dealer of this hand? Who can explain life and its brevity, ’cause there is nothing here that I can understand. You and I have barely met, and I just don’t want to let go of you yet. Noah, hello, good-bye. I’ll see you on the other side. Noah, sweet child of mine. I’ll see you on the other side. And so I hold your tiny hand in mine for the hardest thing I’ve ever had to face. Heaven calls for you before it calls for me. When you get there save me a place. A place where I can share your smile and I can hold you for more than just awhile. Noah, I’ll see you on the other side. {Michael W. Smith}
The Diary Of My Perfection 