… that fourth Friday night without him in over eleven years, and “God only knows how many Friday nights” since November 8, 1996, when I attempted suicide myself.There’s no telling “how many more Fridays” will have to pass by before my baby girl will be out of the danger zone with “ideations” of her own after the virtual Hell she is still living through for reasons I cannot say!
From this point going forward, I will be here for as many nights as I’m allowed to live to faithfully remind the unsuspecting masses that THERE IS ALWAYS SOMEONE LISTENING by doing exactly as Zack would always tell me to:
Catherine, USE YOUR WORDS!
LULLABYE
I know the feeling of finding yourself stuck out on the ledge. And there ain’t no healing from cuttin’ yourself with the jagged edge. I’m tellin’ you that it’s never that bad, and take it from someone who’s been where your at. You’re laid out on the floor and you’re not sure you can take this anymore. So just give it one more try with a lullaby and turn this up on the radio. If you can hear me now I’m reachin’ out to let you know that you’re not alone. And you can’t tell I’m scared as hell ’cause I can’t get you on the telephone. So just close your eyes … Well honey here comes a lullaby. Your very own lullaby. Please let me take you out of the darkness and into The Light. ‘Cause I have faith in you that you’re gonna make it through another night. Stop thinkin’ about the easy way out. There’s no need to go and blow the candle out. Because you’re not done, you’re far too young and the best is yet to come. Well everybody’s hit the bottom. And everybody’s been forgotten. Well everybody’s tired of being alone. Yeah everybody’s been abandoned. And left a little empty handed. So if you’re out there barely hangin’ on … just give it one more try with a lullaby and turn this up on the radio. {Nickelback}
So this is it. I say goodbye to this chapter of my ever-changing life. And there’s mistakes. The path is long. And I’m sure I’ll answer for them when I’m gone. So when the day comes and the Sun won’t touch my face, tell the ones who cared enough that I finally left this place that’s been so cold. Look at my face. All the stories it will tell I can’t erase. The road is long. Just one more song. A little something to remind you when I’m gone. When I’m gone. The road to hell along the way is paved with good intentions so they say. And some believe that no good deed goes unpunished in the end or so it seems. So when the day comes and the Sun won’t touch my face, tell the ones who cared enough that I’ve finally left this place that’s been so cold. Look at my face. All the stories it will tell I can’t erase. The road is long. Just one more song. A little something to remind you when I’m gone. So this is it. I say goodbye to this chapter of my ever-changing life. And there’s mistakes. The path was long. And I’m sure I’ll answer for them when I’m gone. When I’m gone.{Staind}
Like a scream inside, the one you just can’t hide. The sound so deafening, you can’t hear yourself think. As real as real can get. Keeping my heart in check from feeling anything but my own apathy. Again, again. It’s creeping up on me. Making it harder to breathe. We’re all under pressure. Can’t stand the weather. For the worse and not for the better. Please, this ain’t the way to live. Something’s got to give. We forgive but don’t forget it, no. Another day, another battle. We all have a cage to rattle. This just might be the death of me. Might be the death of me. It’s reached a fever pitch. I’m living proof of it. I find it hard to cope, without a thread of hope. Blood is thicker than water. But love is even stronger. Hold out a little longer. Until we found ourselves. Again, again. Like a scream inside, the one you just can’t hide. The sound so deafening, you can’t hear yourself think. As real as real can get. {Daughtry}
There you stood in disbelief, trying all you could to see through these lies. And every word that I could breathe would find you more inclined to leave, but I tried. I tried. And knowing what I’ve done to you … with every thought you suffer through … my heart as black as evil can. And everything I could have been … erased by what I wanted then …I couldn’t think a lesser man.
So, now I reap what I have sown and any rapture I had shown has bled dry. And I walked the streets alone, accepting pain I’d never known as you died. You died. Then I hurt myself to see it, too … to feel the knife put in you … my heart as broken as my ways. I never should’ve let it pass … this fall was never meant to last … the reason gone and damage stays.
All the delicate ways that I deepened our graves. My apology pales.
Oh, the pain in your eyes … my regrets have never known such sorrow. Oh, the shame that you hide … resolutions are the same tomorrow.
As you can see, I’m desperately trying to be as transparent as possible as I journey through this nightmare I’m living out loud, as I refuse to just sit back and let the broken roads each member of this family has traveled thus far have been in vain. My story? HIS story? My daughter’s? My son’s? They will have made a difference in the life of at least one other broken soul that’s lingering hopelessly out there in this world somewhere if it takes my last breath to do it.
Zack reminded us all so much of Robin Williams’, one of my favorite icons. He was larger than life. Always smiling. Always positive. Always the biggest presence in the room! He couldn’t stand to see anyone sad, so, he would make us all laugh until our sides hurt. Yes, he was the biggest clown I’ve ever met! At the same time though, he was intensely serious about everything he tackled in life, and as witty as he could be, his timing was always perfect. With him? There was a time to laugh, a time to cry, a time to play, a time to dig in deep and get to work, but always a time to just “Good Morning Vietnam” it!
On Thursday, August 8th, 2019, things seemed to be looking up. It was his day off, but we’d decided to split up for the day so I could take Gia for school shopping and lunch while he ran some errands of his own. When he walked out the door, he seemed to be in genuinely good spirits, and as you can see from our credit card statement, we’d all had a productive day. Me? Shopping. Having lunch with our daughter. Living life in the moment and excited for the double date later that night with our sweethearts. We were happy. We had a family. We had a home. We had a KING waiting for us at that home who loved us both more than words could say. He was our everything. HE WAS OUR ROCK!
But what abouthim that day? What don’t we see in this picture of him smiling at Pinstack? “Our rock” was literally crumbling before our eyes and had already made the decision to end his life. This charge you see at “CAB STORE ALLEN”? While Gia and I were eating lunch, he was at Cabella’s buying the Springfield he put to his head 14 days later:
So, there you have it. What you see hiding behind another one’s smile isn’t always joy, peace, and happiness, and these pictures are a sobering example of this tragic truth. Although we knew he was struggling, no one knew how close to the end of the story he really was. He was dying a slow, painful, agonizing death within his own mind … we just couldn’t see it. I’m sorry that I’m not sorry if this post upsets anyone because perhaps it’s too transparent, but there’s a poignant statement made in these pictures that I felt was important to share. Maybe the saddest people always try their hardest to make people happy because they know what it’s like to feel worthless and they don’t want anyone else to feel that way.
UNTIL THE DAY I DIE
The waters rise. The light declines. But I’m not turning back from here. Voices are crying. Corpses remind that most don’t make it to the end. Look to the sky. Take back what’s mine. This life can be a cemetery. This life can be a shallow grave. I’ll never be a casualty. I’ll never bow before I break. I’ll stand and fight. Until the day I die. I left the known to walk alone ’cause to remain was suicide. The “could’ve been”. Stood up again ’cause not to try was just to die. Maybe I’m wrong. But it’s my right. I’ll face the night. I’ll find the light. Look to the sky. Take back what’s mine. I’ll stand and fight. Until the day I die.” {Like A Storm}
If only you’d have known that as you arrived to work that October day, every plan you’d ever planned, dream you’d ever dreamt, or wish you’d ever wished for your own life and future was completely unraveling. You could have worn one of those silly expectant father shirts with sparkly pink letters across your chest … “I’M GONNA BE A DAD! IT’S A GIRL!” … and maybe even passed out cigars!
He was standing in front of that one big window at the gym, turned his head, our eyes locked!
I want you to know that I am ever so aware that none of this has ever been easy for you, although to those who don’t know what really lies beneath the frosting of the beautiful cake you’ve become, you DO make it all seem so effortless. But this job you never imagined you’d be showing up for on an equally cool night the following November came with so many unseen challenges and struggles, most of which have fallen on your shoulders without complaint. I know we weren’t the family you were expecting – “some other guy’s leftovers”. And I’m guessing she wasn’t quite the “little pink bundle of joy” you may have pondered welcoming into your once very private world.
As for all the things you have been, done and given?You didn’t have to do ANY of them! No one ever asked you. You just did … and still do. All the tears you have cried with her. For her, and about her? They matter, and I’ve counted them all!He breaks her. You fix her. He makes excuses. You look for solutions. He hurts her. He hurts you. He lets them both down, but you keep picking them up. I suppose the defining moment as to who and what you are as a father was that morning just a few weeks ago when you were first reduced to tears at the realization of how much she has grown in the years since you first met her and how quickly time is speeding by:
Catherine, I only have five years left with her and then she’ll be going to college. It seems like a lifetime when she’s only gone for two days, so what’s going to happen when she’s gone for months at a time? And then when she’s gone for good? Just thinking about it makes me sick and I don’t know how I’ll survive it!
You’re a beautiful human being, Zachariah, and your heart’s depths knows no bounds. You could have had anything … anyone … and to this day I cannot understand why you’ve done the things you have done for us, and more than that, why you didn’t run as FAR away as any other man’s legs could possibly have carried him. I was so beaten down, tired, weary and ragged and had literally NOTHING to offer you whatsoever. A father who wouldn’t accept you. An ex-husband who maligned you. A pile of debt. A broken body. An empty womb. The two ghosts. “His” kids. Still, you chose us.
I want to say thank you my true and faithful King. Thank you from the depths of my soul. You are so much of everything and then some. You’re the love of my life that I never knew I’d never had until that that moment I finally knew what the selfless, unconditional love of a man and a father was supposed to be. I know this may sound crazy, but it’s because of YOU that I now fully realize how God pours His own love into all of us. When I look at you? I see Him. You’re just a mortal man, imperfect in so many ways, but your honor, intentions, and steadfast love and devotion to this family are unwavering and always “for better or worse”.
THESE are your self-evident truths:
You’re the beating of our hearts, the voice that calms our fears, the words to all our songs, the hand that wipes our tears, our eyes when we can’t see, our lungs when we can’t breathe, our legs when we can’t walk, and our arms when we can’t hold ourselves upright. You have made us both believe we’re the two most treasured prizes a man could have won, and that our many flaws and weaknesses are just as beautiful as you claim we both truly are. You are the mirror we gaze into when our own reflections fail us, and we are never more confident than when we’re standing behind you, beside you, or with you at our six. We belong to you Zachariah, and for some reason it was supposed to be this way. You gave us a home … and your heart … and everything we have today. We love you more than any of my endless words could say.
My husband wrote this for Gia in June because he believed, and it’s true, that they shared similarly broken hearts. Now, in reading it a second time, I realize he was actually writing about himself. Ten years ago my husband saved my life, and hers. In the end, it was him that needed to be saved … but I couldn’t do it.
“SHARDS”
I finally broke and my mind came undone. My body gave way as I hit the floor. My heart shattered. I lacked the strength to even pick up these pieces as they spilled across the floor while they looked at me in disapproval for the “mess” and inconvenience I made for them, but I gathered them up none the less as the whip cracked and scarred my back pushing me begrudgingly forward. I didn’t know what to do with what was left of me. I had never come this far apart. I was just a little [boy]. I just wanted to give up. Lay down. You know the rest. There is a crack deep in my soul that is still healing, but some days I feel as though it is only getting bigger. I thought I would never be strong enough to stand on my own and finally get my “shit” together. Could I find enough love for myself to make these jagged pieces worth putting together? I have looked to find strength in so many ”things” because I feel it is not within me, but deep down inside I know it is there. One day soon I will gather up these pieces again. Fit them together the way they are supposed to go. These shards will become my strength. My protection. My weapons against further abuses of my worth and love. The strength is gathering within me – I’m not little anymore! They shoved me on to the path of adulthood and I will show those who have wronged me my wrath, which will only be overshadowed by the ferocity of my love that is and was the best thing they will never have known. I spent so much time seeking their approval, when it was MY approval and favor, they should have been looking for all along.
Ten years ago, in the midst of a mental health crisis and major crossroad, I got a job driving big Ford trucks from Dallas to the four surrounding states, Kansas, and Missouri as a dealer trade “valet”. I spent so many days and nights alone on the open road just driving, crying, laughing, talking to myself and God. I’d stop in as many small towns as I could along the way in the quietest corners of “anywhere but home”, find a quaint cafe, then just sit with some coffee and listen, observe, and absorb as many “outside my bubble” experiences as possible. That job was one of the best things I’ve ever done, and I swear I wouldn’t be here right now if not for it.
Back then, I was a rocker who hadn’t heard of Rascal Flatts yet. I fondly remember the day I was rolling down the I40 to Yukon in a jacked up Ford F-550 when this song queued up to the radio. Meanwhile, there were horses actually running in the field abutting the highway, with a crisp, blue sky in the background that all but took my breathe away and reduced me to some of the most cathartic tears I’ve ever cried. I believe with every shred of my being that God set up that one singular moment in time up for me as the catalyst for the beginning of the “apostrophe” I’ve become.
Here I am now what seems like a lifetime later, eternally thankful for the countless tears I shed in those trucks that allowed me to finally begin the bittersweet process of moving on stronger, wiser, and ALIVE, despite the many broken roads I’d been down and sometimes still have to travel.
These days, when I hear this song I get butterflies as I dream of all the possibilities in her future. Whereas the girl in the song is learning how to let go, which was clearly me back then, I can only pray that these words will apply to our girl for much brighter and hopeful reasons. We don’t want her to ever be in a position where she has to choose between “someone” or herself. We want her to be strong and wise enough to start with choosing herself first and let all the naturally beautiful things that follow be her reward.
Williamson and I are determined to build our girl into a mentally wealthy, confident, and strong woman who will never have to wonder who she is and run away to save her own soul like I did. She’ll live life on her terms like the QUEEN she’s destined to be, “no reins” whatsoever,and I’ll fight for her to have that freedom until the day I’m gone and beyond. Unless, of course, she finds a king of her own one day who is lucky enough to capture her painted wild mustang heart. God willing, he’ll run right alongside her for the ride of both their lives, neverstop loving her unconditionally, and cherish the beautiful chaos she will surely bring into his world.
For the record, I’ve been praying for this boy, wherever in this world be may be, since the day that she was born. Actually? Now that I think of it, I’ve been praying for both my kids’ spouses all their lives. God has been so good to us in all things big and small, so I know that if a Prince Charming is meant to happen in her queendom, he’ll find her eventually “o’er field and fodder” and everything between. If and when that day finally comes, this crazy circle my life has been going in will be complete, and I will be one very happy mama!
This morning, my superhero obsessed daughter drew this picture of who I thought was Wonder Woman, only to find out it was a picture of me. She drew it after having written this unbelievable essay that I never even knew existed until today about how her favorite TV show led her to the SUPERNATURAL conclusion that the real superheroes in this world don’t actually wear capes. Rather, they wear the badge of honor that comes along with “hunting mental illness” and its veryunpopular monsters.
SAVING PEOPLE & HUNTING MENTAL ILLNESS:
THE SPN “FAMILY BUSINESS”
What makes a hero? It is their immense strength, bravery, kindness, and selflessness. They inspire and save the lives of people for no other reason than to help. I found MY heroes because of a TV show that I had no clue would be as special as it is to me. By telling his story and launching a campaign giving support to those in need, Jared Padalecki, alongside Misha Collins and Jensen Ackles, have inspired thousands of people, and myself, to never give up, and to always keep fighting …
In March of 2015, Jared launched “Always Keep Fighting” with different T-Shirts with the slogan. All the money gained from the over 500,000 products sold were given to the charities To Write Love On Her Arms, The Wounded Warrior Projectand Attitudes In Reverse – Student Suicide Prevention. Later, he gave the reason for him starting the campaign in the first place. That previous New Year’s Eve, one of Jared’s best friends lost his battle with depression. Jared stated that this was not the first time he had lost a personal friend to suicide. Using this new campaign, he said that he hoped “that this campaign, while raising money for a wonderful charity, can also raise awareness about issues that affect more people than we know. I hope it inspires people battling depression, addiction, mental illness, and suicidal thoughts to be vocal about their struggles. I hope it helps people realize that they shouldn’t be ashamed of what they are going through, and I hope it helps people meet and find new friends that they can relate to. I hope it helps people take pride in the fight that they have been fighting, and gives them a push to never give up or give in. I hope it helps inspire people to keep fighting. no matter how hard it is.” Through his actions, he showed a level of kindness and compassion that is superhuman. Later, however, he reveals something that gives the “Always Keep Fighting” Campaign an entirely different depth.
Living with an invisible mental illness requires an immense amount of strength and bravery. I have witnessed firsthand the kind of wear and tear it can do (and yes, there is a REAL “super hero” in this regard I am lucky enough to call my mom). Opening up to the public, to millions of people that you have suffered through the same battles as the people you are fighting for? That requires unbelievable bravery. Jared did just that. He said how he has suffered from anxiety and depression. He said that he did not understand why he would be depressed. “It kind of hit me like a sack of bricks,” Jared told reporters. “I mean, I was 25 years old. I had my own TV show. I had dogs that I loved, and tons of friends and I was getting adoration from fans, and I was happy with my work, but I couldn’t figure out what it was; it doesn’t always make sense is my point. It’s not just people who can’t find a job or can’t fit in in society that struggle with depression sometimes.” Misha Collins, a best friend, and co-star of Jared, also suffered in the same way that many fans and readers alike have. Misha had been self-harming for years. Since he was only around 12 or 13 years old. Misha won his battle. He stopped cutting himself and started loving himself. Later, he and his co-star/best friend Jensen Ackles started something of their own.
On February 12, 2016, Jensen and Misha launched the You Are Not Alone fundraising T-shirt Campaign with T-shirts that used the slogan “You Are Not Alone”. The SPNFamily Crisis Support Network has been established by Jensen and Misha in partnership with Random Acts, TWLOHA, and IMAlive. This project created an online support network to help fans cope with mental health issues such as depression, self-injury, and addiction and included training for fan volunteers who wish to be crisis responders in their spare time, provided immediate access to support lifelines for fans in crisis, and local community resources for those needing additional support or information. Together, they save lives and create warriors in the process. They have shown people that there are people who care about them. They save lives as any hero should.
Through words and actions, they have shown far more than bravery, courage, and compassion. Just like the ‘S’ on Superman’s chest, what they have done means hope for people. On February 9th, Misha Collins, who plays Castiel, on Supernatural, posted a video on his social media accounts. Misha’s message? He told his fans without speaking that they’re not alone. To people outside of the Supernatural fandom, this video may not seem like much. But to people who know Misha, to people who watch him every week on The CW, these four words, “you are not alone” mean so much more. Fans see that the actors that they look up to and love not only care about them but believe in them. They continue also to bring the three-word sentence, “always keep fighting”, up fairly often, constantly reminding their fans to not give up.
“Jared, Jensen and Misha”. To people not in the fandom or the people who simply don’t know who they are, these names may mean nothing. I promise you, however, that these names have meant life for thousands of people, mine included. They have not only saved lives, but taught people how to save lives themselves. To look around, at complete strangers, and help those who are struggling, and make sure that they win their fight. They have created an army that fights the demons that live in all of our hearts and minds. An army that is fighting every day for one another.
Jared, Jensen and Misha have saved thousands of lives, mine included. Day after day they continue to save people. Jared Padalecki, alongside Misha Collins and Jensen Ackles, have inspired thousands of people, and me, to never give up, and to always keep fighting. They have taught us that no matter what happens, what we do, WE KEEP GOING! No matter how much we want to give up on anything, little or small, we will refuse to stop. Most importantly, they have taught us that even if we think we have met our match and can’t go on, we will get up and fight harder than ever. We can go on because we are enough, we are not alone, and we have a family of people we have never met, who love us and understand us. Who live their lives loving and helping complete strangers? Thanks to these three men. As Jared said, “Even if there are a thousand small fights, even if every other minute you’re thinking about suicide, or depression, or addiction, or if you have a mental illness, I want people to hit it head on and take action. And to be proud that they’re winning their fight, period.” We must always keep fighting`!
… when it’s been 3,760 days since you shed your skin and had the epiphany that changed everything in front of a fountain in a tiny hilltop village in France and you’re finally headed there with the love of your life to show him the very you were standing when it happened!
This day of the tour is exactly why he brought me here and I literally have butterflies in my stomach! Everything in my heart and life changed instantly and I am so thankful he wants to see the place I’ve been telling him about for nine long years! This is actually the second time I’ve used this song here in The Diary, by the way!
TAKE ME THERE
There’s a place in your heart nobody’s been. Take me there. Things nobody knows, not even your friends. Take me there. Tell me ’bout your mama, your daddy, your hometown, show me around. I wanna see it all, don’t leave anything out. I wanna know everything about you then. And I wanna go down every road you’ve been. Where your hopes and dreams and wishes live. Where you keep the rest of your life hid. I wanna know the girl behind that pretty stare. Take me there. Your first real kiss, your first true love. You were scared, show me where you learned about life, spent your summer nights. Without a care. I wanna roll down Main Street, the back roads. Like you did when you were a kid. What made you who you are? Tell me what your story is.
🐸 Countless days have passed since our story began that you still never cease to amaze me! You are still my hero, and if we had to go back to that tiny little apartment in Fairview, I would happily go. I could live anywhere, as long as you’re there. It’s not about the “house”, it’s about the “home”. You’re the prince among men who has continued to give us EVERYTHING, and I’m so damn thankful and proud to be your wife!
Never again, never give in, never give in. Never again, never give in, never give in. I wouldn’t wish this on just anyone, but you seem to share my impulse. I wouldn’t take this from just anyone, but you seem to like the result. I’ll connect the dots and you can tell me when to stop. I’d rather keep on going than be something that I’m not. We’re creatures of habit, we can’t live without it. We don’t have to answer to anyone. We’re chasing the rabbit, like creatures of habit, and no one else knows where we’re coming from. And nothing’s ever gonna change, ’cause I ain’t gonna run away. There’s no need to panic, ’cause you’re just as tragic. We’re creatures of habit, we don’t have to answer to anyone. I’m not amused by just anything, but under the circumstances (never again, never give in)! You be the recluse. I will defend you when you’ve used up all your chances. I’ll connect the dots and you can tell me when to stop. I’d rather keep on going than be something that I’m not. We’re creatures of habit, we can’t live without it. We don’t have to answer to anyone. We’re chasing the rabbit, like creatures of habit, and no one else knows where we’re coming from. And nothing’s ever gonna change, ’cause I ain’t gonna run away. There’s no need to panic, ’cause you’re just as tragic. We’re creatures of habit, we don’t have to answer to anyone. {Shinedown}
I heard this song for the first time today and it literally punched me in face. Stung me. Broke me. Leveled me. DEVOURED ME! Well, almost. While I was certain I understood the message being conveyed, I did some digging and found this on a Shinedown lyrics page:
Creatures is the progression of a person from dark to light, is the first part of the actual transition. This is where the person begins to shed all of the negativity that has held them in such a dark emotional state, breaking free from the human nature and animal instincts we all have that keeps us trapped, repeating the same mistakes.
EXACTLY! It was as though She were singing it to me Herself – my very best friend and nemesis, who for more than half my life, literally tried to murder me: The Dragon that was blocking my Light!Ironically, it was ten years ago this month when I finally set my tired feet upon the most unforgiving battlefield of my life:“Me v. Her” …
I never thought I would be one of those women who let an eating disorder control every aspect of their lives and I certainly don’t believe in “statistics”. I’ve known long well that none of this was ever about the food, but rather, some pathetic attempt to continually purge myself of a lifetime of shame, guilt and rage. It was about some sick sense of order I thought I was maintaining over the contradiction which had become “me”: My Rules; My Choices; My Food; My Control! (Or so I thought!)
I cannot tell you how many times I’ve been asked what it was like living with an eating disorder, but my words always failed me:
But, Cat, why didn’t you just stop doing it? Why WOULD you even do it? You’ve always looked so fit and healthy.
Umm, that’s not quite how it works, but did you know that effing BITCH could have killed me? Whether it’s attempting to mutilate your physical body, or the creatures living in your mind, as far as I’m concerned, eating disorders are nothing less than passive attempts at suicide, and the words to this song say it all.
For the record, it’s never really “over”! I am here to tell you that eating disorders have no cure – only quiet remission. Even as healthy as I’ve become, She has never actually left me, nor do I think She ever will. As is par for the course with any addiction dragon a human can face – be it drugs, alcohol, food, or even toxic relationships I just say She’s dormant now and lying in wait for the rest of my life, such that I must always take care not to awaken her. In the meantime, I remain eternally humbled and grateful that I somehow managed to survive her and am alive today to tell you about it. Besides, my Mona Lisa is watching all of this, and I will not rest until she is battle born and ready to fight dragons of her own!
“The day of the Spic and Spann” was the day I began to despise myself and the dark brown skin I wore, and dare I remember the countless hours of my youth spent in a bathtub crying secretly to myself while literally trying to erase my beautiful color with my mom’s kitchen pot scrubbers!
… because after a first half of a lifetime being ashamed of the tone of my skin then finally learning to love it, I figured it was about time that I figured out exactly how I got it! I couldn’t be more proud of the results. Not only did I discover how deep my Italian roots run to the region close to Pompei, which in and of itself has recently become an even greater source of pride than I could possibly have ever imagined, but also, that the ancestral connection to the Hopi Native American tribe in my blood that my Grandma Mary had always mentioned is likely very true.
One hundred years have gone and men again they came that way to find the answer to the mystery. They found his body lying where it fell on that day, preserved in time for all to see. What became of the man that started? All are gone and their souls departed.
So, with that …. ME! It’s ME! I’m what became of “the man that started” my ancestral tree!
And just like that, the mystery of how I became the fierce SURVIVOR I am is solved! It’s in my blood and the STUNNINGLY beautiful brown tones of the Latin and Mediterranean skin I used to try and scrub off in shame!
With that, here’s a little shout out to any and all it may concern regarding the color of either my or anyone else’s skin:
Pardon me, but, my epidermis is showing! I’m sure you couldn’t help but notice my gorgeous shade of melanin! I tip my hat to my colorful arrangement, ’cause I see the beauty in all the tone of my skin! I’m a colored people and I live in a tainted place. I’m a colored people and they call me the human race. I’ve got a history so full of mistakes, but I’m a colored people who depends on His holy grace. This piece of canvas, “me”, is only the beginning. I take on character with every loving stroke! A thing of beauty who’s the passion of an Artist’s heart … by God’s design, I’m in cosmic skin kaleidoscope!
Nine years ago, at the very beginning of my tailspin to the end of my old life and rise to where I am today, I was asked to read a book that was intended to help me make peace with the death of my daughter and other tragedies I thought I’d never survive. Well, it literally did jar everything in my soul, and yes, it has helped me cope with not just losing her, the bittersweet reality of losing anyone I love at all.
Throughout my journey as a parent, however, I have also come to realize that indeed, it is true, that a mother is only as strong as her weakest child. As such, I have been burdened with the often hopeless feeling of trying to reach my son way down deep in his soul where he’s been hiding for too many years to count. I have literally prayed on my hands and knees that this book would someday become a movie I could take him to in an attempt to crack the hardened shell that has become his safe fortress and plant the seeds of a renewed faith in God within his jaded heart.
Well, today is the day, folks. Tonight, as a family, we are going to see The Shack! Maybe this will jar something loose for him just as it did for me in 2008.
Hey [big brother] can you give me a call. I have a favor to ask. We need a copy of your birth certificate to help me get a passport because of my jacked up birth certificate. I’ll explain.
Catherine, he STILL can’t be bothered to help me. It’s as if I don’t matter or even exist. I guess some things will never change.
We now have three of what appear to be the only school pictures that exist of him. Meanwhile, a local congressman had become aware of his abandonment and complete lack of identity and has intervened so he may finally have official recognition as a citizen and hopefully even a U.S. Passport! My husband is our hero and there are no words to describe how lucky we are that “they” have all forsaken him, because HE BELONGS TO US! Their loss is our EVERYTHING! He’s a man on a pedestal as long as he roams this Earth (and surely after he leaves it), and thank you GOD that he chose me and mine to finally call “his home”. And so, with that, HAPPY BIRTHDAY WILLIAMSON!This world is a much better place with you in it!
MIRACLE
Say it once. Tell me twice. Are you certain I’m alright? Just a sign to remind me tomorrow’s worth the fight. Ever changing – the story line that keeps me alive. So make a wish and say: Give me life. Give me love. Star lit angel from above. Not so low. Not so high. Keep it perfectly disguised. Ever changing – the story line that keeps me alive. My Mona Lisa’s making me smile right before my eyes. Take another look. Take a look around. Its you and me, it’s here and now. As you sparkle in the sky I’ll catch you while I can ’cause all we are is all I am. I just want you to see what I’ve always believed … You are the miracle in me. Show me faith like you do. I’m amazed at how you move. Side to side, front to back – you know how to make it last. Ever changing – the story line that keeps us alive. My Mona Lisa’s making me smile. {Shinedown}
Wow! Just WOW! When this album dropped today, I knew it was gonna be good, but little did I know that it would re-invite some formerly uninvited memories of the past when I was separated from God:
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.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.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.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! I’m gonna see it all your way. What do I do now?
On second thought, no! I was never “separated from God”. He was with me all the while, and my imaginary separation from Him was, perhaps, the biggest lie that the devil had been shoving down my throat of all. Thankfully, those days are gone now.
And Him? His love is defining a generation, but not to settle anymore scores. I very much do know trust, and am surrounded by the precious hearts I stole and an even more precious 86,400 seconds a day that I refuse to waste while I revel in this beautiful life I still get to live with them. Yes, I really did owe Him a second chance … an explanation … and a promise I’ll keep for every lie that I told. My lungs are no longer failing … hands to the sky … face to the ground. I find that yes, He has only the best intensions for me and mine. He’s honored everything … this I know to be true … and while not everyone thinks so highly of Him … I MOST CERTAINLY DO! He said He would come back for me. He said He’d find a safe place. He said that Heaven and stars would never tear us apart … AND THEY WON’T! He’ll find the right words even from the wrong ways every single time I still lie. Thank you, GOD, that You never just shut up, and I promise that I’ll never ask you to fade away again. Yes, there really is a consequence to every word He says. Yes, he knows who I am. My “Heaven and stars” no longer have prison bars … they are my only true freedom. Goodbye!
After a lifetime of having absolutely NOTHING, both materially or otherwise, then the last FIVE years of unselfishly giving everything he did have away (like that time he emptied out his “new car savings fund” to pay for my daughter’s tuition to private school), Zachariah Lucas Williamson finally gets something JUST FOR HIM!
No one could deserve it more, and truth be told, after everything he’s gone through for the sake of me and mine without ever complaining or holding it over my head? He should have gotten a freaking Bentley! I’m so happy for my husband and so damn PROUD of him right now! And by the way, how’s THAT for ya “big brother and his wife” who have always “jokingly” referred to my husband as the “Zack Of Shit“? Today is the best day EVER!
Since about 7:00pm Dallas time last night, I’ve been in between “speechless” and “tears”, shaking my head with hand over mouth in complete and total disbelief. Please also know exactly how poignant, powerful, and meaningful the beyond thoughtful gesture was to my husband, as well.
Over the last few years, my “process” has taken me to some of the darkest and loneliest places. Hmm, wait, Stuart, did you happen to know this already? Lol. So, the search to find “me” was both tragic and beautiful, but yes, I did, indeed, “find me”. Along with everything else I’ve discovered about myself, I’ve also discovered that one of my purposes in this life is to reach out to the broken, lost, and shattered people that happen to cross my path and metaphorically wrap them in the big cozy blanket of knowing they are not at all alone. My heart literally aches when I see another human being suffering and wish I had a magic wand to just “bop” everyone through their healing.
There’s an organization here in Dallas called “Life Enrichment Boot Camp“. People who are struggling with mental wealth or relationship issues walk through the doors on a Wednesday night and leave a few days later feeling refreshed, renewed, and “free” from their emotional baggage. They learn to forgive those who have hurt them, and, most importantly, learn to forgive themselves for simply being human. It’s the same boot camp that I was literally dragged to about four years ago as a last ditch effort to help me pull my own head out of my ass, because even the finest of, err, “facilities” in this world didn’t quite get the job done. It was there at the camp where I began to truly find healing and “freedom” from my jaded past. Meanwhile, four years later, now I volunteer at this camp as often as I can and “give back” to the same system that help me save my own damn life.
That being said, I want you to know that for me, being at camp on those weeks isn’t always easy. . It takes everything I have to stand surrounded by a 100 or more people that often are only inches away from the same “Death’s Door” threshold that I was standing at when I walked into that boot camp. It drains the life out of me just about every time, because as I have already said, for whatever reason I, as a human being, and very much physically affected by other people’s pain. It’s quite overwhelming to hear the never-ending stories, tragedies, and traumas. By the time Saturday afternoon rolls around and all of the new-found joys and freedoms of the campers are ringing loud in the halls of the boot camp, I’m ready to just run out the doors, speed home as fast possibly, take a long, hot bath, crawl into bed, and literally hide underneath the covers until Sunday morning. That’s how much it wears me out! Still, for all the emotional energy it drains me of, the reward of knowing that I’ve helped change lives is worth every single tear I secretly shed for those people.
Imagine the irony, then, when Zack found that package at on doorstep last night. You see, this particular boot camp was tougher than usual, so, on my way home yesterday afternoon I couldn’t stop crying, and remember driving down the road and thinking to myself:
My gosh! Is any of this worth it? Will any of these people ever remember me? Will ANY of the people I’ve reached out to in my lifetime think of me one day and smile? Is anything that I’m trying to accomplish really going to matter, and will I have truly made a positive impression on even one human being’s life before I leave here?
Yes, indeed, this is the conversation I was having with myself when I was on the way home from boot camp. So, I got home from camp around 4pm yesterday, and the plan was “supposed to be” that I take a bath and a small nap so that when Zack got home at 7pm we could maybe catch a movie and a bite. Not to be! Once Zack called at 6 to say he was headed home, I told him that I’d had a very rough camp this time, that I was physically and emotionally drained, and that all I wanted was to stay in bed. In fact, I couldn’t even manage an appetite, so I asked if he minded to pick himself up something to eat for dinner. He patiently agreed, and an hour later walked into our bedroom (where I was STILL laying on the bed in the same clothes I wore to camp, because, again, I was literally too smashed to move or even take that much-awaited bath) and greeted me with the most beautiful arrangement of flowers, a big kiss, a hug, and a question.
Hey honey, did you know there’s a huge package for you at the front door?
A minute later he walks back into the room with this GINORMOUS package in his arms,
Um, honey, have you been shopping on the internet? This is from Ireland? Silver Hill Foods? Do you have any idea?
I sat up in the bed and my jaw hit the ground! WHAT THE HELL? I couldn’t speak! Literally, my jaw was stuck on the floor with BOTH my hands covering my mouth as I stood there physically stunned and immobile.
You have no idea what you’ve done! For the record, I was just kidding with that post! Really? You did this for me? Stuart and Helen, please know that with the exception of my husband and my children, no one has ever “done or given” to me in such a way as this. NEVER EVER EVER! Not in this way. And of all things in my life that I hold dearest? Yes, I am truly the girl who hid underneath a comforter (never as nice as these though) for so many years that I cannot even tell you. It used to be the only place I felt safe – “underneath a comforter”. I have always loved and craved that cozy, yummy envelopment, and NO WAY I will ever understand why you did this for me.
I will never forget this and I will never be able to properly show my gratitude. My husband even got a little teary-eyed, by the way. No one has ever done anything like this for him either!
You see, honey? You HAVE made some positive impressions on people, just like I’m always trying to tell you!
These gifts you have given me and my family are more valuable and priceless than even a bag full of gold, and we will treasure these for as long as we are alive on this earth. It’s not just “the blankets”, it’s the thought. Someone thought of ME this time! SOMEONE THOUGHT OF ME! I love you both dearly and thank you, thank you, thank you so much! We cannot wait for the day that either we are all in Ireland or you are all here in the States. Our humble home will always be yours when you are near Dallas here you will be treated like royalty!
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.
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}
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.
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?
“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.
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}
Christmas came to find me still deeply grieving, but trying desperately to keep my eyes upon The Cross. In all the Christmases we’d been divorced, however, He and I had always managed to go shopping for Christian together during the holidays. This year, however, I didn’t want to go, as I was still feeling very sorry for myself and not that much like shopping.
This particular Saturday, however, would be a day to surely remember. He came to the house that morning, walked into my bedroom where I was still buried under the covers, opened the blinds, ripped off my blankets, and told me to get out of bed. We were going shopping for Christian that day and he wasn’t gonna take no for an answer. Despite my best efforts to avoid any Christmas joy, and after much cajoling by Him, by noon we were out the door and headed to the malls for a day filled with holiday shenanigans. We shopped and laughed, ate and laughed, then shopped some more and ended up having some dinner. It was probably one of the most beautiful days that I’d ever had in my life, and one that I still fondly carry in my heart.
The next day, we decided to spend more time together, only this time with our son. We shopped a little more, then went to have some lunch, and they even went to a special Christmas themed service with me at my church.At the end of the evening when the two of them drove me to the parking lot where I had met them and left my car, He leaned over to give me a hug goodbye. Instead however, He kissed me. When the kiss was over we both turned to see the look of astonishment on Christian’s wide-eyed face – his hands were over his mouth and he was smiling:
Kiss her again, Daddy! Kiss her again!
… at which point he physically pushed our heads together with his innocent young hands, and the rest is merely history.
INTO ANOTHER
Slowly I heal the love that’s found it’s way on to another path in times of change. Crossing that bridge alone, hoping our strength will hold. Should they let go then let me lay. Let me lay. Show me a sign to a light that shines one direction into another – sheltered peace of mind. Somewhere I lost a piece of memory, but somehow I know my legs will carry me. Searching for circle’s end, hoping the wounds will mend. Should this scar, then it was meant to be. {Skid Row}
On this cool, crisp day in November, John asked me to meet him at a church in Sachse, Texas where he had been invited by one of my new “Christian” friends and mentors,Angie, who he’d befriended as well, to attend a Power Team evangelism show and also be baptized afterwards. He said he had something exciting to tell me that night, and based upon the tone and context of the conversations we’d been having, I had every reason to believe that he was going to propose to me. Imagine my surprise then when after the baptism I was led into a room in the back of the church where he was standing beside Angie and her entire family of people I’d truly come to admire and respect. It was then that John told me that he was “so sorry”, but over the months, “God had called them together”, they’d fallen in love, and had been hiding their relationship from me.
There I stood, just as I had 20 years before, numb and sick with the same stinging, disconnected pain just beneath the top layer of my skin on the day of the Spic and Span. I walked out of the church heartbroken and alone and just started driving on a 300-mile round trip to Oklahoma City and back. I’d just danced with the devil, a narcissist of unspeakable proportion, who after all was said and done “hoovered me” for years to come, but that’sanother story for another time.
When I arrived back in Dallas, it was just about time for the Saturday parking lot meet with Christian and his dad for our weekend custody switch. I was wrecked beyond belief but doing everything I could to keep it all together for my son’s sake. I needed not to let what had happened the night before break me down completely, and by this stage in the game I was a pro at stuffing painful things down and pretending they just didn’t exist. Despite my best efforts, though, I consciously decided to pick a fight with my ex-husband so I could just run away and avoid having to fake my way through a “normal” weekend visit with son. I hadn’t slept in over 24 hours, had just experienced the second biggest bombshell of my life, and although I didn’t know it, was less than 15 minutes away from the first of my nervous breakdowns. I went back to my parents’ where I’d been living at the time, swallowed every single pill, capsule, and liquid medicine I could find in my bathroom. I JUST WANTED TO GO “HOME”!
The details of that morning were never very clear, but I do remember lying there, just rocking back and forth and screaming that I wanted to be with God. It was my sister who first realized what I had done to myself and called 911. Meanwhile, my ex-husband and son had followed me home because he’d been concerned that something was just “off” at our meeting and was worried.
My parents were ballistic as my sister frantically pulled me out of the bed to the bathroom to make me vomit everything I’d swallowed. While I cannot and will not ever say that I actually died that day, what I can say is that something did happen within my body and soul in that moment that not only defies logic, but as well everything I’d been taught to believe about life, death, and “hereafter” in my cradle Catholicism. It was “something”. I went “somewhere”. “Somewhere” I can still hardly fathom. No, I never saw “the light at the end of the tunnel” we often hear people speak of when they’ve had a near death experience, because again, I don’t think I was actually dying. Rather, there was a numbing, soothing, lulling void in my mind, as if I were being cradled in blissful nothingness by every single hand from every single shred of the universe at once. It was ethereal to say the least, and even still when I think of it I want to cry, but not in a sad way, in a joyous one. That moment devoured and immersed me in something so much bigger than my simple mind will ever understand, yet at the same time I very much do understand it.
Meanwhile, my Christian, a mere five years old at the time, managed to slip through all the chaos and come to me. He, too, was ballistic and frantically crying, but had taken hold of my wrist and was patting my back as though HE were the parent consoling their child. Up until that point, I hadn’t been able to focus on anything in the room, because everything around me was just “dark”, yet I could very clearly hear everything my son was saying:
Mommy, God’s not ready for you to go Home. He wants you to stay here and be my mom.
It’s imperative to note that although I could see his mouth moving and hear the words he was saying, it was not Christian’s voice I was hearing. I firmly believe, and will never be convinced otherwise, that it was God. God, Himself was speaking to me through my son. He’s real, my friends. HE’S REAL!
I stayed in the hospital for a few days until the state committed to a psyche ward where I underwent intense treatment for clinical depression, post-traumatic stress disorder, and the sorely delayed but much needed rape counseling I’d never gotten. My whole family was involved in this process, which was something that by then that we were all in dire need of.
Looking back now, I realize that I didn’t want to die that morning, I just couldn’t pull myself out of the black hole that I was in. I was lucky. Very lucky. I made it home in time for Christmas that year feeling lighter and happier than I had in years, clear-headed, focused, and internally combusted with a fire in my soul of epic proportion. Despite the unbelievably selfish horror I had put them all through, my entire family welcomed me home again.
As for the devil? He never ONCE turned back see what he had done! It was such an easy choice for him to just discard me as the unwanted “baggage” he’d once referred to as my son. As for me? It was everything, because I loved him (or so I thought), trusted him, and had given him every piece of my already broken heart I could have given.
As for her? Her betrayal of me “in Jesus’ name” literally murdered my soul and caused spiritual damage within my heart and psyche that would take years to recover from. Perhaps you’ve heard it said:
The devil doesn’t come dressed in a red cape and pointy horns. He comes as everything you’ve ever wished for.
Well, it wasn’t for years that I’d finally understand that they were two of the actualdevil’s own. He, the consummate wolf in sheep’s clothing, and she, by the name of “Angela”, the most beautiful angel of Light I could have known. My friend, mentor, and “sister in Christ”, with a pit viper’s tongue, a knife in her hand, and a smile on her face as she plunged it into my back.
Indeed, it was my darkest hour to discover what really lied beneath the surface of two of the most truly evil “things” I’ve ever encountered. How starved these vile creatures must have been that my heart became meals for his very small affect and her insignificant, insecure and thirsty, insincere ego.
WHAT LIES BENEATH
Take a breath. Hold it in. Start a fight. You won’t win. Had enough. Let’s begin. Never mind. I don’t care. All in all, you’re no good. You don’t cry like you should. Let it go if you could when love dies in the end. So, I’ll find what lies beneath your sick twisted smile as I lay underneath your cold, jaded eyes. Now you’ve turned the tide on me ’cause you’re so unkind. I will always be here for the rest of my life. Here we go. Does it hurt? Say goodbye to this world. I will not be undone. Come to life. It gets worse. … Don’t carry me under. You’re the Devil in disguise. God sing for the hopeless. I’m the one you left behind.
Although I’m only four years old at the moment, how little do I know that a beautiful, tremendous MACHINE that is running the race of his life today is going to become such a bittersweet, beautiful, and beloved part of my story:
If there were just one moment in time I could travel back to and personally witness, it would be the Belmont Stakes when that magnificent, TREMENDOUS machine defied every odd stacked against him and made a mockery of all the people drunk on SHAMpain up in the crowd. If you’ve never seen the movie or read about “The Horse That God Built”, do it! It’s so much more than just a movie about a horse. It’s the story of what can happen when one living creature truly believes in another and how faith can make miracles out of anyone. That’s what made OUR little family what it is today, by the way … a miracle of FAITH! I’m so damn lucky to be surrounded by people I ‘ll never stop believing in as I watch them run their races with no reins!
The Diary Of My Perfection 