Tag: “the real cat williamson”
DECEMBER 6, 2025: “Cat V. The Creature [(ps) … Cat WINS!]!” …
We want everybody to be safe out there because we are getting reports of … it’s going around! It’s eating people’s faces and souls! He’s a crazy creature!
One year ago today, Sick Puppies released what I believe to be their most powerful song since “White Balloons“, “Odd One“, and “Creatures“. With that, I feel it only fitting that we take a good, hard look at these impeccably written lyrics:
PAIN! It’s come alive! It’s pouring out of my veins! I’m drifting in and out, turning insane. At the edge … I’ve kept it in until now … I’m afraid it’s too late! I feel it coming out!
STOP! Before I take your mother fuckin’ head off! I’m seeing shit that I don’t wanna speak of! Bottled up everything up until now. This is it! Fuse is lit! So, get the hell out!
Rage that won’t subside … eating me alive … look into my eyes … I’ll scream until I spit blood! I would stop myself if I could! Get away! It’s too late! I’m changing!
Oh my God, what have I done? I can’t believe what I’ve become! I can’t stop hurting everyone! What’s this creature I’ve become?
Far be it from me to break the news to ya, my friend, but this “creature” you’ve become can look an awful lot like the living embodiment of emotional dysregulation: difficulty managing your emotions and the way you react to them, which in turn can lead to extreme or inappropriate outbursts. It’s not a diagnosis, by the way, but rather a description of how our emotions are managed—or, should I say, MISmanaged.
A person’s inability to regulate emotions can, however, show up alongside a number of mental health conditions. Do you have trouble calming down when you’re upset? Do you experience rapid mood swings or struggle with impulsive behaviors and thoughts? My advice? Reach out to a mental health professional. With the right help—and the willingness to face your ‘lil monster in the mirror—you CAN take it down!
“But, Cat! I can’t afford to call a mental health professional!”
YES, YOU CAN!
Just CLICK this pic:
Perhaps one of my favorite things about myself is that I haven’t become the monster I probably should have after all the trauma I’ve survived in my life. I mean, could I have used it all as an excuse to rage against humanity? Yes, I suppose so. Actually? Now that I think of it, there was a time in my life when I did! “It was kinda like a storm!” … and by “it,” I mean THE CREATURE I once WAS! One thing we all need to understand about extremely kind, nice, and loving people, however, is that their other side is just as extreme. It’s the hell they survive that makes them gentle, so don’t mistake their self-control for weakness. The beast in them is merely sleeping, not dead.
NOVEMBER 27, 2025: “Changes” …
So, umm, exactly how many stoic quotes from a bunch of dead philosophers can you throw at us in this Diary, Cat?
AS MANY AS IT TAKES!
Although all these dead guys are, indeed, DEAD, that their wisdom has survived the test of time only proves their modern relevance. We live in a world chock full of black and white thinkers who think in extremes without even trying to consider the MANY different facts, angles, and perspectives of a situation. Umm, hi, there! Not only did I use to be one of them, but such rigidity was almost my downfall! The ancient philosopher mindsets, however, continue to remind us about the many beautiful shades of grey in this all.
With that, and in honor of the 40th birthday of one of THE best movies of all, my beloved Rocky IV, please let me remind you that there is SO much more to see here than really meets the eye, and even MORE at stake if you somehow miss the memo. Remember: RIGID things break, but FLEXIBLE things can bend, twist, and MOVE like a butterfly when life’s stinging you like a bee.
Meanwhile, if I can change, YOU can change! I am, after all, the embodiment of survival of the fittest. I’ve “adapted, overcome, bent, twisted, and SURVIVED” by refusing to just keep standing there rigid and stubborn as FUCK while life’s wolves tried to devour me.
CHANGES
Changes … time’s making changes in my life. Rearranging … can’t seem to stop the hands of time. I remember … I was so young … I was much too young to see. Now I’m older … growing older … and I see things differently. Faces .. strange faces cloud my mind. Empty traces … make it hard for me to find. Somewhere in the distance, is there Someone who awaits for that moment I am taken over by the hands of fate? Oh, can’t you see? It’s changing you and me. Time’s makin’ changes. Time’s makin’ changes in my life. Times rearranging … it’s changing you and me. {Tesla}
NOVEMBER 24, 2025: “The sPEACH Heard ‘Round The Hill!” …
My beloved Grandpa Ernie, who shared this birthday with Judge Caprio, grew up on “The Hill” as well. My father and his three brothers were students at the high school where Judge Caprio taught during the day before driving to Boston for law school at night. Since my father was Class of ’65, they’d likely have walked those same corridors together. For all I know, Judge Caprio may even have taught my father.
For the record, I’ll never see a can of peaches the same way again. In fact, I’ll be buying a can at the market this week and putting it in my kitchen to honor Judge Caprio and this epic, if not saintlike, sPEACH! “Frankly”? The man should be canonized. Meanwhile, I once saw a powerful tribute to another of humanity’s treasures, Keanu Reeves. You’ll find those words in the slideshow below.
Few are the people whose character is worthy of such impeccable words. Judge Caprio, however, was one of them (as was my Grandpa). If you don’t already know who this enigmatic bastion of kindness and treasure to humanity was, it’s not too late to get to know him now. His life-changing nuggets of wisdom will honor not just his forefathers but mine and so many others’ as well throughout the ages! I’d also like to think that I’m honoring MY forefathers and following in their footsteps by showing kindness and compassion to as many people as I can, up to and including strangers, and that I’ve raised two kids who do the same. Happy Heavenly Birthday, Judge Caprio and Grampy!
NOVEMBER 20, 2025: “My HAPPIEST Place!” …
“Many people consider rainy days to be a bad weather day. Therefore, for anyone to think otherwise, that person must view the world from a unique perspective. There are many kinds of people in this world, and each has unusual habits and characteristics. That uniqueness is what makes pluviophiles different from the rest of the population … and they thrive in rain and storms.”
… and I am never not mindful of the people in this world who fall into the deep psychological despair and depression that come and go with the seasons. For me, days like this are nothing less than God’s way of wrapping His arms around me with all the most beautiful shades of grey that He knows I love so much and telling me I’m safe, loved, and always “at home” no matter where I roam or what seemingly dismal circumstances surround me.
It’s days like this that call me back home to the happiest days of my childhood, especially when followed by a rainbow to remind me that I’m not just all the darkness that still lives deep within me courtesy of the demons that tried but failed to take my soul, many of which weren’t even my own. It’s days like this when I truly AM the living embodiment of “Power + Grace” and all the beautiful Light and colors I’ve become. It’s days like this when I’m the happiest. It’s days like this when I’m the most at peace. It’s days like these when I’m thankful.
NOVEMBER 10, 2025: “The Blue Moon GIFTS!” …
In closing, I would now like to drop a link to one of the spirit animals of my music life whose birthday is today: “Odd One” by Sick Puppies. It is, perhaps, THE greatest soliloquy to all the odd ones out there who are either hiding in plain sight or running around like a hot pink gift bag. May it live on eternally through the freed hearts, souls, and minds of those of us who boldly reflect it and no longer live inside the prison walls of “general consensus.”
If, like me, you’re an out loud and proud original prototype FREAK—designed by The Master’s hand and never intended to be mass-produced—and you haven’t yet heard this gem … ENJOY! If, on the other hand, you’re wrestling with yourself inside a plain, brown, boring box because it doesn’t fit, it’s fucking boring, or you just know you were meant for something better than a cookie-cutter human experience … may the words to this ode to my family of one-and-onlies become your new mantra and fight song as you find the courage to BURST the fuck out of the norm and into the first and BEST edition of YOU! We’ll be waiting for you with our “Open! Open! Open!” neon lights on, and, yes, we will reflect you, too!
(“Ode To The Odd Ones!”)
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, “ODD ONE” …
… and here’s to all you other “Blue Moons” like me who are running around out there, just decking out other people’s atmospheres with your mere EXISTENCE—which is, indeed, the GIFT of a dream come true that most people never knew they needed! WE are the pattern alterers, my beautiful Odd One friends! WE ARE THE BLUE MOON GIFTS!
NOVEMBER 7, 2025: “Put Me In, Coach!” …
NOVEMBER 1, 2025: “The Most IMPERFECTLY Perfect Love Story Of All Times!” …
This picture was taken during Ozzy’s goodbye show. She sat quietly at the edge of the stage. Alone. Almost invisible. After decades of chaos and glory, of screams and silence. Just to be there. To be his. To stay. Always. This is Sharon Osbourne. And that image of her says more about love than any love song ever could. Because real Rock and Roll isn’t in the solos. It’s in the surrender. She met Ozzy when he was lost – broken, addicted, discarded. But she saw the man, not the mess. She believed. She bet everything. And she won.
She wasn’t just a wife. She was the mind behind the empire. The soul behind the myth. She was the one who stayed – through rehab, scandals, relapses, betrayals. She was the one who loved – fiercely, silently, without applause. She turned pain into power. Madness into music. A broken man into a legend – and then into a husband.
For over 40 years, she held the line. Not for glory. Not for image. But for love. Real love doesn’t always roar. Sometimes, it just stays. And she stayed. Sharon was Ozzy’s oxygen. His harbor. And maybe… the greatest love story music has ever known.
(by “AcapellaHero“)
While writing to ask permission to repost these impeccable words about “The Prince Of Dark AND Lightness” here, I was reduced to tears yet again in the wake of a phenomenon I’m calling “The Ozzily EverAFTERglow.” I wrote:
As a widow who’s still healing from a “journey with a madman” who I unfortunately lost to his own darkness, your words have captured SO many of the feelings I’ve yet to fully express with my own words. They NEED to be shared with other widows.
… which is, in fact, exactly what I’m doing to honor what would have been my fifteenth wedding anniversary with the “madman” who took off with my heart after “a little over a decade of chaos, glory, screams, and silence” that, unbeknownst to us, he’d been battling within the abyss of his slowly sinking soul.
No, he may not have been a rock star—but in so many ways, I suppose he was before he lost his actual fucking mind and did unspeakable, unfathomable, and all but inhumane things to us in the wake of his insanity.
But you see, I, too, was Sharon Osbourne in my own way. I happily and sometimes quietly sat at the edge of his stage … often alone … and sometimes even invisible. Why? Just to be there. To be his. To stay. Always. Because real love is in the surrender.
I met Zach when he was lost—broken, discarded. But I saw the man, not the mess, albeit he’d been hiding so much of it. I believed. I bet everything. And I lost.
But then again, did I, though? I was the one who loved—fiercely, silently, and without the “need” for applause (which is not to say I never got it, because I did).
Now? I’ve turned the pain he left me with and the pain from my own journey as a “madwoman” into power. Madness into ALL the music that sings my own soul and continues to help me surrender to my own demons … and myself.
I am a once-broken woman who’s loved many a broken man—and has now turned into a legend.
For over 56 years, I’ve held the line! Not for glory. Not for image. But for love … because real love doesn’t always roar. Sometimes, it just stays. And I’VE STAYED!
I’ve proudly, if bittersweetly, been so many other people’s oxygen—and, even more so, my own. I am a harbor … and maybe … the greatest love story I’ve ever known.
OCTOBER 31, 2025: “A Sky Full Of Bats!” …
HAPPY HALLOWEEN, FOLKS!
Here’s hoping you either have a spookTACULAR and cozy night in with all your people (or even with just you and yourself), or a spookTACULAR and SAFE night out with all your people (or even just with you and yourself)! Okay, that’s all I got!
Bye everyone, it’s me, BAT!
(I mean, CAT!)
OCTOBER 25, 2025: “One Thousand Apologies” …
Twenty years ago on this day, Demon Hunter released this most powerful song of not just Zack’s lifetime, but even more so mine as I’ve continued to break everything down in hopes of making sense of the silent pieces of his existence. So, what better time to finally memorialize it than today by sharing my answer to a question that was posted earlier in one of my writing forums:
My “Triptych” story is bittersweet and unfathomable to most, but true nonetheless. Since I’m the “REAL Cat” and an admitted over-sharer, I’ll share. Demon Hunter was the all-time favorite band of my late husband’s life. He’d been thrown away by his “mother THING” on his birth day. Years of burying his emotions after a dismal start in life eventually led him to me and my kids, who he took as his own.
He’d always said that my daughter and I were the only two women he ever loved other than the grandmother who stepped in to raise him after “the THING” left him to rot in his own remains. After YEARS of fighting against the mental illness that had left him slowly deteriorating, he succumbed to the darkness on 8.22.19.
No one except my daughter and me REALLY knows what happened in our home in the midst of his LITERAL insanity in the four months before he left, when the devil himself took up residency inside his head.
Lol, even his beloved German Shepherd “saw it” inside of him, and by “it,” I mean the demon that was living in his body, to which end Walter Williamson LITERALLY tried to rip his hand off the night before the end for what seemed like no obvious reason … until it all became clear to us in the wake of his suicide and “we knew.”
Meanwhile, on 8.9.19, the night after I’d discovered he’d made his final decision to “put the monster down” and purchased the Springfield he used, he’d written an email to my daughter and me with the song “One Thousand Apologies” attached, but never sent it. I found it in his drafts while sifting through the wreckage months later. He’d always said this band wrote the soundtrack to his life, and they did.
For the record, I have long since forgiven him for the crimes against our humanity that he / “the monster” committed against me and my daughter. I’m thankful beyond words for all the delicate and NOT so delicate ways their music has helped me understand what may have been going on inside his broken mind and soul, and for the closure I’ve found in so MANY of their song lyrics. I hope he’s resting in peace.
For the record, “Carry Me Down” was the last song we played for him at his services, and it will be the second-to-last song played at mine. (“The Brighter Side Of Grey” by 5FDP will be the last.)
Someday, I’ll go back through his emails and drop a screenshot of that draft here for truth and accounting purposes, but for now I’m gonna stay safely out of them! I’m growing forward, not backwards, my friends, and some anchors just need to be cut as I continue to rise from his abyss. Here in Dallas, it’s a rainy, dreary, pluviophile HEAVEN for me, and all I intend to do tonight is enjoy my cozy little castle and the sanctity of blissful solitude I’ve found at home with ME. Goodnight. 🖤
OCTOBER 12, 2025: “Girl, The BEST Days Of YOUR Life …” …
Dear “Every Woman Out There Who’s Been Avoiding Stepping Into Your OWN Reign With Your OWN Tiara For Years And Years And Years And YEARS, To the Point of Near Suffocation, If Not Death”:
Haven’t you held your breath and bitten your tongue long enough? Why are you still holding yourself back?
There is still SO much left for you to say … and it is NOT too late to run … no … to walk away quietly and simply WALK away like a QUEEN.
As for all those shadows you think you’ve cast? Guess what? FUCK the shadows. Because YA CAN’T HAVE SHADOWS WITHOUT LIGHT. The light is already there, by the way … but you might need to close your eyes to see it.
The best days of your life truly have yet to come … not the least of which is the one you get to CHOOSE the very second you’re done reading this. After all, you’re STILL here, right? So? OPEN UP AND SEIZE IT!
No, you DON’T owe anybody ANYTHING … but you DO owe it to yourself, your GOD, and every other woman in your halo to get out there and live your life ANY WAY YOU PLEASE … NO APOLOGIES. These are the only promises left for you to keep:
Close the door. Close your eyes. But DON’T close yourself off to everything that is still waiting for you to see, try, and become.
I know you’re afraid … and THAT’S OKAY. But, hey — look at me. If I can do this, YOU can do this. Your QUEENDOM is calling you.
And by the way, if you haven’t downloaded this beautiful love song to yourself — the one I’ve been listening to over and over since it was born fifteen years ago today — please do so immediately. Then listen to it daily until it reignites the fire inside your soul — the one you may not have even known was there in the first place.
Girl, the BEST days of your life have yet to come! She’s still waiting for you. All you have to do is whisper to her. NOW, BURN!
OCTOBER 7, 2025: “The Light” …
It’s “World Day of Bullying Prevention” once again, and I don’t know who needs to hear this right now, but if you’ve ever been the one some giant FUCKTARD did or said something cruel to during a time when you were already on the ground searching for even the smallest shred of light in all that darkness—only to have the door slammed SHUT and leave you all but blinded—I want you to know that you didn’t deserve that. I’m sorry you had to endure it, but I’m GLAD you’re still here reading this.
Even when everything feels lost, darkness does not get the final word. Sometimes it is the darkness itself that teaches us how fiercely to look for The Light.
Inspired by Disturbed, “The Light”
In the meantime, if YOU are the FUCKTARD who all but put your hands around the throat of someone who was already struggling to breathe … YOU’RE GROSS! Also? Karma is a Jean-Claude Van DAMN mother-effing bitch, soooo … have fun with all that!
OCTOBER 4, 2025: “What If?” …
What if there WON’T be mercy for SOME?
Today is World Animal Day, and my question to all of you is really IS, “What if”? What IF all of this really IS just a test from The Powers That Be and ALL of the animals, no matter how big or seemingly minute and valueless are angels in disguise? Where will YOU be standing on your Final Judgement Day? At The Bridge or The Slide?
For instance …
If you abandoned, starved, and neglected an animal, will YOU be eternally “abandoned, starved, and neglected”? If you tied some helpless creature to a tree out in the backyard and just left it there with no food, water, or shelter from the freezing cold or burning Sun, will YOU be eternally tied to a tree trunk that way and forced to watch “your family” through a window all alone? If you burned animals alive, ran them over for fun, hunted, trapped, and shot holes in them for sport, or caged them for entertainment, will YOU be trapped, caged, burned alive, and shot in the head over and over and over again with no chance for reprieve or escape? Hmm? I wonder.
By the way, by no means am I saying that those THINGS that mistreat, abuse, neglect, abandon, torture and kill the helpless humans amongst us such as infants, children, the elderly, and disabled aren’t also, hopefully, and most importantly going to be avenged in that good ole “eye for an eye” fashion both The Bible and every other religious transcript speaks of, but treating other human beings humanely is a given that should just go without saying, right? But the treatment of animals? Hmm? I just can’t help but wonder!
Look, I’m a God-fearing, Jesus-loving woman who wouldn’t wish merciless “eternal harm” on any human being, but as I’ve oft said before, maybe not all of us are really even “human“. The Bible also says “they walk amongst us“, soooo. Meanwhile, here’s to all the rest of us who literally wouldn’t even hurt a fly, much less set out to torture one of God’s creatures without at least thinking about the consequences of those abhorrent actions and play Russian roulette with our souls!
OCTOBER 3, 2025: “We Don’t Deserve Them!” …
I saw this picture some time ago on one of my writing forums, accompanied by a story supposedly written by a nurse who took it:
It’s been 23 days since this patient came to this hospital and in these 23 days nobody from his family came to visit him. But there is a pigeon which comes every two days to sit next to his bed. The pigeon stays for a while and then flies away. We then found out that this patient sits on a bench in a park near the hospital every day and feeds the pigeons there. This once again showed us that animals have a better heart than humans.
NEWSFLASH, however … the nurse’s claim was later found to be a fictional “tail” spun for likes, clicks, and views. The photograph is real; the story is not. It was taken on October 19, 2013, at a hospital in Athens, Greece, by photographer Ioannis Protonotarios, who was visiting his father in the cardiology ward. He later confirmed that the pigeon’s appearance was a chance encounter—not a recurring visit—and there is no evidence that the patient had fed the bird in a park or that the bird recognized him. Even so, the image itself all but begs us to acknowledge the true gift animals of all kinds are to humanity, especially if we’ve been blessed enough to have had an unconditionally faithful companion by our side at any point in our life who helped lead us through the darkness and into The Daylight.
The late British author and veterinarian James Herriot, born on October 3, once famously said:
If having a soul means being able to feel love and loyalty and gratitude, then animals are better off than a lot of humans.
No truer words.
Meanwhile, I have long believed that the SAD truth is this: humanity doesn’t deserve animals. Thank GOD the animals don’t know that. Bye everyone, it’s me, CAT!
SEPTEMBER 30, 2025: “You Aren’t Machine! YOU AREN’T MACHINE!” …
… and by “recovery” I mean “recovery” from ANY of the following (in NO particular order):
• Acute Trauma
• Grief
• Sexual Abuse
• Domestic Violence
• Emotional Abuse
• Natural Disasters
• Bullying
• Abuse and Neglect
• Abandonment
• Witnessing Violence
• Developmental Trauma
• Intergenerational Trauma
• Life-Threatening Illness
• Your Childhood
• YOUR FAMILY
• Terrorism
• Verbal Abuse
• Accidents
• Assault
• Childbirth
• Pandemic
• Divorce
• Kidnapping
• Military Combat
• Displacement
• Addiction
• Depression
• Alcoholism
• PTSD
• Mental Illness
• Eating Disorders
• Narcissistic Abuse
… and the list goes on and on!
With that, and in honor of World Recovery Day today, if YOU are in recovery from any of the above or perhaps something else on the list that I missed, please be gentle with yourself and don’t be surprised by a rollercoaster of various emotions all in the same day. Oh, and by the way … contrary to what you or others may have tried to convince you of …
YOU AREN’T MACHINE!
YOU NEED TO SLEEP!
So, cut yourself a break today and allow yourself to rest and reboot as long as is HUMANLY necessary! Also? Here’s to even BEING human in the first place, along with all the pain and suffering that has brought beauty to your bleeding. Remember not to take your humanity for granted, by the way, as you’re endlessly navigating all the highs and lows of living out your second chances. No, it wasn’t supposed to be this way, and yes, you were meant to feel the pain as you were becoming the SURVIVOR you truly are!
~ REAL Cat
SEPTEMBER 27, 2025: “Back To The Beginning Of The Fire!” …
To heal a wildflower, you must first go to her roots. To get to her roots, you have to go back to the beginning.
Let’s go back to the beginning!
(“Letters To Anna“)
Oh, to be a flower that blooms after a wildfire! “Dear Me”: Just keep blooming in a perfect circle, going forward by continually going backwards to the very beginning of the fire! Then, if as I’ve long known I truly am the most favorite and beloved daughter of this God I adore so much, they’ll never know they’re the children of a cursed woman:
But you see, the flip side of this bittersweet, double-edged sword of a living love story I’ve become is that I’ve gotten to learn the very hard way that my heart is love and my hands can rest because my soul has learned to happily exist in the blissful peace of my own solitude unless and until I decide to let anyone near me with a hammer again, much less be forced to just stand there and watch some mother fucker with a hammer continually annihilate my children.
(“The Shardsman, The Hammer & The Glue“)
Wait! Let me rephrase that: They’ll never know they’re the children of a woman who once thought she was a cursed woman. For as long as I shall live, I’ll keep shattering myself like glass, breaking every one of my bones, tearing out my heart, and scourging my own soul just to keep that that kid who lives inside of me free to bask in the glow of my own wildfires!
Breanne Randall once said,
I can dress in black and hang my head and mourn the loss of the life I longed for / or I can set it all on fire and build new dreams from the ashes / where are the matches?
So, with that, and in honor of this “Ancestor Appreciation Day“, I’m gonna keep lighting everything and one around me on fire! Here’s hoping you will, too! YOU CAN DO THIS, “ME”! I mean, really? You have no other choice! WE have to keep healing the broken little girl inside us … for THEM … and by “them” I don’t just mean the kids. I mean the strangers who walked through fires of their own so that we could find our voice!
In the meantime, pray GOD that the broken little girl who is now a part of our family finds the strength, courage, and brutal self awareness to “see herself” in the next generation of wildfires she’s now torched our family with so that she doesn’t burn and destroy my grandchildren.
SEPTEMBER 25, 2025: “Oh, Poor YOU!” …
That’s right … YOU HEARD ME!
YOU created the cesspool you’re drowning in, which, (ps), is making you kinda stinky! You can’t really expect to run around breaking every person, place, and thing you touch and not have to fuckin’ pay for it, now can ya? Meanwhile, “if” by chance you’re in the wake of what seems to be the war to end all wars, there are cold, dead bodies lying all around and you’re the only one left standing, perhaps it’s time to reexamine yourself, or, God forbid, examine yourself for the very first time EVER!
No one seems to like you?
Can’t hold on to relationships?
Don’t get included in family functions, ’cause …
You always RUIN family functions!?
Constantly getting fired?
Constantly in trouble with the law?
Constantly have your ‘lil ears BURNING?
People can only show up to the places where you are drunk, stoned, or otherwise highly medicated?
Welp, ya toxic ‘lil monkey …
the problem just MIGHT be YOU!
One of my favorite lines from a song of ALL times is by a band even a ginormous shithead like YOU might have heard. (It’s Def Leppard! 😉):
And then in conversation, I love the way you mention ‘nothing’s ever gone your way’ with a hammer in your hand. You spell out a master plan.
(“To Be Alive“)
YOU NEVER LEARN!
Steve Maraboli once said,
The problem that we have with a victim mentality is that we forget to see the blessings of the day. Because of this, our spirit is poisoned instead of nourished.
Lookit, your victim mentality isn’t serving you very well, so why not just go ahead and FIX IT! Own some things. Account for some things. Apologize for some things. STOP SOME THINGS! Make amends with those prolly very few people who are somehow still willing to let you in their atmosphere. Start taking responsibility for your bullshit actions and for fuck’s sake, GET INTO THERAPY!
While I’m sorry that I’m not sorry for the rough around the edges delivery here, know that I only aim to help. Yes, I know that the truth really hurts, but I am here to tell you that I, too, used to cry “victim” after the consequences of my own bullshittery. Guess what, though? I’ve lived, learned, and have since accepted the errors of all my formerly fucked up ways and all the people I broke along the way … not the LEAST of whom were my children. Then? I forgave myself, walked forward with “Power + Grace“, and my life is just so much more … BETTER!
YOU CAN DO THIS!
You can stop whining and crying over all the stuff that YOU broke! Ga head and give it a try! YOU GOT THIS! Oh, and one last thing. This post is being published on “National Day Of Remembrance Of Homicide Victims” today in honor of those who have been truly “victimized”, which (ps), in this regard isn’t you!
SEPTEMBER 24, 2025: “Hold On To Your Tunderbolt!” …
… ’cause remember, and Epictetus said it best: Any person capable of angering you really does becomes your master, so don’t let anyone disturb you and make you their little bitch! Keep that thunderbolt in your own hands as much as humanly possible and don’t let anyone grab it away from you!
… but (ps):
Don’t you dare beat yourself up too bad when in the past you have in the future you do fork over your lightening bolt to some fool who angered you! It happens to the best of us, up to and including me, ’cause we are only human after all. Oh, and by the way, as is par for the course with me, I tried to find the perfect “day” to post here in The Diary, but couldn’t find a single trace of a “World Anger Awareness Day” to save my life. So, instead, I’m posting this now in honor of the release of this epic if not most recognizable AC/DC songs was released thirty-four years today!
SEPTEMBER 19, 2025: “Don’t Stand So Close To Me!” …
Look, I dunno who needs to know this right now—but exactly 45 years ago, The Police released this most EPIC fight song, if not “love song / mantra / ODE,” to the not-so-people-y people of this world. You know? The freaky INFJs like ME! Let’s see … I would have been, like, 11 at the time. Truthfully, I don’t even know if I’d heard about either The Police or this song back then. Nevertheless, this song is self-explanatory, and this Diary entry is FINISHED! Bye, everyone. It’s me … CAT!
SEPTEMBER 16, 2025: “I’m STAYIN’ Home!” …
Back in 1986, Corey Hart gave birth to this beautiful song, “Goin’ Home,” via one of my favorite albums of all time, “Fields Of Fire“! Little did I know that thirty-nine years later, its embers would remain quietly flickering in the deepest chambers of my heart.
MEANWHILE …
To My Kids:
This is me “standing at the divide”—better known as “the post office of my life”—not so silently praying, if not begging, for you all to take up permanent residency in YOURSELVES:
“When the seasons change and we’re in for colder weather I won’t let you down when the seasons change. I won’t go down. I’ll fight through the pain. I’ll be there right by your side. I’ll never let them bring you down when the seasons change.”
(Five Finger Death Punch, “When the Seasons Change“)
That’s right! Every single time I sing it to myself, and even now as I’m typing this, I literally picture myself “standing at the divide” like a knight in my own shining armor outside of the fortress, not hiding in it!
Let’s face it, people, not everyone does have that one person to call “home.” Sometimes life has different plans for us, and we have to learn how to fortify ourselves into steel magnolias standing tall, strong, and sometimes even alone throughout our many changing seasons in the garden.
Treating ourselves kindly, patiently, and with unyielding amounts of unconditional love and self-care is one of THE best ways to accomplish that. So, SING TO YOURSELF like you are THE greatest love story of your life … ‘CAUSE YA SHOULD BE!
(The Real Cat Williamson, “Song Of Myself“)
Happy 39th Birthday, “Goin’ Home”!
SEPTEMBER 15, 2023: “Embach Armory … Established 9.15.02!” …
“Umm, okay, Cat, but, SO?”
This Diary entry is being written and backdated to this official release date of “Battlefield 1942” to memorialize the planting of one of the most important seeds to take root in our family’s tree … the “officially unofficial but also very official” establishment of “Embach Armory” (23 years from today).
(“Where It All Began“)
SEPTEMBER 15, 2025: “Because Fallen Angels RISE!”…
On this day ten years ago, Three Days Grace released what has become, for me, one of the most bittersweet requiems—and landslides—of all the “mother guilt” I’ve carried in the wake of not just my own shattered childhood, but even more so my children’s. And then there was that moment a couple of years ago when I found her college entrance essay buried in my desktop downloads. I wasn’t sure whether to smile or cry as I read it. I ended up doing both, because …
I’ve often wondered if my life is just a bunch of pages in a comic book. It seemed that since the beginning, I was thrown as many adversities as my author could think of so I could become a character just like my in dad’s dusty old comic books that I would flip through under the covers when I was supposed to be asleep. I was born in the middle of a nasty divorce, and my teenage brother took up caring for me since my parents would be too busy fighting to notice either of us. I wanted to make things easier for the people around me, so I learned how to be independent and resourceful, and I was instilled with a personal goal to strive for excellence. The rest of my life has been met with similar misfortunes. Bullying and social ostracization, poor choices of friends and boyfriends, and finally, the abrupt death of my stepfather, who had raised me and despite the lack of shared blood took up the yoke of being my dad for 11 years. In the end, I had no friends, a dead parent, and a list of diagnoses of disorders that reads like a master list. The last thing I want is pity. That’s not why I say this. The reason I say all of this is because despite the years of bitterness and pain I felt being in my “comic book”, and the many times I wanted to give up completely, I have grown to love everything that has happened to me. Why? Because I know that if it wasn’t for all I had to endure, I wouldn’t be a fraction of the woman I am today. Because throughout everything, I made the decision to make sure my backstory would make me like Batman, not Joker. Every cruel word and deed taught me that the people who are hurting the most can cause the most hurt, and that I needed to be kind and patient – take them with a grain of salt because the last thing they needed was cruelty back. My anxiety forced me to become sure of myself so I could meet my own expectations for myself, and to learn how to move outside my comfort zone to succeed and connect with others the way I want. My ADHD and OCD gave me an incredible love for challenges. Yes, it is more difficult for me than others to do basic things, but in the end, I learned that I could turn the things that hinder me into my superpowers. My ADHD allows me to devote myself completely to my passions and always remain excited and looking for the next thing I can do to improve and gives me this unquenchable thirst to learn more and do more. My OCD gave me the strength to always strive to do my absolute best, while also forcing me to learn how to be gracious with myself when I make mistakes, as mistakes are just lessons that teach me how to improve and do better. My PTSD made me both gentle and tough. I gained more empathy and became incredibly resilient. It gave me a fierce desire to protect and support those who had no one else to support them, because if I had to suffer so that others might not, then I’m happy to show my scars with a smile. It made me love harder and care more, about others and about myself. I’m in no way perfect. I have my kryptonite like everyone else. But I am a fighter. I know that I can face whatever comes my way, and I am proud to say that I have grown into my own superhero. I just hope that someday, my “comic book story” will give some kid just like me the hope to keep fighting and become their own superhero, too.
Ugh. It felt just like that very first “Death Punch” to my soul years ago, when my son sent me the first of many messages to follow—not so cryptic—in the wee hours of the morning to let me know he “remembered … EVERYTHING.”
… and so, with that, to my beautiful battle-born phoenix of a risen angel daughter: Only God knows when you’ll finally begin digging into the entirety of this virtual love letter I’m writing to you, your brother, and all of yours. And though I’ve appreciated you reading the entries I’ve asked you to thus far, I know it’s not quite time for you to sit down with “all of it.”
For now, just know that I’m so beyond proud of you, and there aren’t enough words in my soul to atone for—or account for—the many apologies I owe you for everything I missed while I was physically “there” with you, yet often nowhere in sight. Late at night, I couldn’t hear you crying. I suppose I was too busy crying myself to sleep while all the love around us was dying. How did you stay so strong? How did you hide it all for so long? Why couldn’t I take the pain away? Oh, that’s right. I was too busy free-falling in the dark for my own protection, trying to convince myself I’d be okay. Still, I have so many questions.
That was then.
This is NOW!
Maybe the truth is this:
Sometimes we change because something finally opens our mind. Sometimes we change because something finally breaks our heart. And sometimes, it takes both.
~ The Real Cat Williamson
Daughter, I am here to tell you, your brother, and anyone else who ever reads this that I am doing my very best to change for both those reasons. For now, I’M HERE, baby girl. I “hear” you and I “see” you. I’ll be right beside you if you ever go through hell and back again, no matter how close or far away I may be. And you will never close your eyes and fall alone in the dark. I love you, RISEN angel.
~ Momma 🖤
SEPTEMBER 13, 2025: “The Bleeding” …
Cat, you need to think about putting yourself back out there and maybe even getting into the dating pool. Have you thought about any of the apps?
🤮
Yes, many versions of this ‘lil nuggie of a conversation have happened since losing Zack. Really, people? The thing about that whole situation is that NO ONE gets to pick my poison again but ME!
Lol! It’s been six years since I’ve either spent time or had meaningful conversations with any men but my sons, close family and friends, the “Flyboy“, my dog, my squirrel, and a grand total of THREE males of the species I’ve somewhat consistently communicated with virtually and LIGHTLY, including a rock star, Santa Claus, and a surfer boy, NONE of whom have EVER said any weird, gross, or inappropriate shit to me, or worse yet, prompted a conversation with a “🍆, 😍, or 💐”! 🤮 So, “putting myself back out there”? Yah, NOPE! I’m all set here in MY own little world with no more bloodied knives in my foreseeable future and just “my people”, my cats, my birds, and my squirrels!
And so, with that, no, I don’t EVER see myself settling down again or reaching for “the one that needs”. Actually? Now that I think of it, I finally am “settled down” for the first time in all my life with absolutely no one to answer to but me, myself, and God, and nowhere to be unless I wanna be there. I’m in my “selfish phase”, people, and yes, it’s highly addictive! Besides … my dreams are all in color now, and though I’m “alone“, nope, I’m never lonely, ’cause me, myself, and ME kinda love running through all these shadows on our own. I guess what I’m REALLY trying to say is that I have nothing to sell to anyone anymore unless and until I decide to open for biz again!
By the way, for those of you who wanna be in the know, Trapt released this song I’ve been listening to over and over and over again twenty years ago today, with the release of their “Someone in Control” album!
SEPTEMBER 11, 2025: “Do YOU Remember?” …
DO YOU REMEMBER?
Where were YOU at “8:46am” on Tuesday, September 11, 2001? I was standing in my then 9 year old son’s room watching the news, folding laundry, and literally glued to the screen. When the South Tower was hit, I vividly remember clenching the bath towel that was in my hand, pressing it to my chest, holding on to it for dear life, and being paralyzed by an adrenaline dump that at the time l’d only ever felt once before, which was at the moment I realized I was about to be raped in a parking garage in downtown Dallas on March 5, 1992. I couldn’t stop staring at the TV and was physically sick and numb. A few minutes later, my ex-husband called me:
Catherine! America is under attack! Get in the car and pull Christian out of school NOW!
AND I DID! I sped to his school in sheer panic and daze in nothing but my pajamas and a bathrobe only to be met by countless other parents (many of whom were also in pajamas and bathrobes) standing in line at the door in tears. Christian was attending Canyon Creek Christian Academy in Richardson, Texas, at the time which was just a few blocks away from The Islamic Association of North Texas that unfortunately and WRONGFULLY experienced immense backlash from the attacks that I wholeheartedly believe were an inside job and not the international terrorism the powers that were and accompanying media outlets so vehemently wanted us all to believe.
How little did I know on that day that I would henceforth become all too familiar with that very same “paralyzing adrenaline dump” with each of the life, psyche, and neurologically altering traumas I’d then go on to experience MANY times after that day … not the least of which was yesterday as I was glued to the screen once again at the moment Charlie Kirk was pronounced dead. By the way? Guess what I was doing at the exact moment I heard the words, “We have breaking news for you. Charlie Kirk has been pronounced dead”?
I WAS FOLDING BATH TOWELS!
For those of you reading this who weren’t yet born when “September 11th” became our new reality, it is my most sincere hope prayer that you’ve since educated yourself about what REALLY happened that day. Also? I just wish so badly you “kids” could have known what it was like to live in THAT America … where we were still “ONE Nation under God” and relatively free from harm in our own homes and public places. I’m haunted by the ghost of her and miss her terribly.
SEPTEMBER 10, 2025: “The Legacy Of The Lion” …
“NO man is hated more than he who speaks the truth.”
~ Attributed to Plato ~
“The tyrant dies and his rule is over; the martyr dies and his rule begins.”
~ Søren Kierkegaard ~
“Give me liberty, or give me death!”
~ Patrick Henry ~
My heart is literally shattered today, not just for Charlie Kirk’s family, but for our country. This is NOT “what America means to me”! Even so, I find no irony in the fact that his assassination will most assuredly be another call to arms and “Turning Point” for our very sick and broken country, not unlike the FIRST shot heard ’round the world on April 19, 1775.
On the other hand, I’m gleefully aware of the hardcore FACT that although they tried to silence him, what happened today will, indeed, carry his voice and wisdom through the ages. My grandkids and their grandkids and maybe even their grandkids will know who he was, what he said, and what he stood for. Lol. Imagine being so abysmally uneducated, illiterate, and completely void of any ability to “speak your truth” intelligently, face to face, mouth to mouth, and without the use of violence, gunfire, or your own personal guerrilla warfare tactics? So, good job to the actual idiot savant who assassinated him today. Guess what, moron? In your attempt to silence a movement of truth, Light, and factual objectivity as regards the whole of humanity, you ended up lighting the fuse of a never-ending, ever-burning cord!
Rest in peace, Mr. Kirk. You lived your life as a true Lion and fierce leader of your pride of patriots and Christians alike with courage, compassion, honesty, loyalty, and conviction for this land you loved so very much. Your legacy will live on throughout our American history as one of the brightest, most faithful, and heroic beacons on our often dark and sordid pages. Well done, my friend. Well done.
AUGUST 22, 2025: “Still Breathing!” …
Listen, I dunno who needs to hear this right now, but pain really does demand to be felt, and dare I say that internalized pain that doesn’t hurt you anymore is actually dangerous.
(“Feel The Pain Then Get Off The Train“)
Six years ago today at this very moment, the lifetime of internalized trauma that had likely been traveling through untold generations of his family came barreling down a set of tracks that claimed my husband’s life because he was never able to lose all the luggage he’d been carrying with him since the day he was born.
Through it all, though, I can honestly say that while there was once a time in my life when I truly didn’t know when the pain was gonna stop, I just kept working on it, all the while never knowing when the floor was gonna drop again. I stepped gently … softly … carefully.
At so many points, and even still sometimes on a day like this, managing all these emotions has just felt like putting up sails in a storm, and the many efforts I’ve made keep toppling me over. And while it’s true that all the ways I once used to cope only made me feel worse, those days are long gone. God? How do I maintain all this control? In the hardest of times, I just stay in my body … see through my own eyes … feel my beating heart … and breathe. Breathe. BREATHE!
If I’m lucky, The Sun will rise again tomorrow, which is strange, of course, since, no, I won’t be the one doing that. Even still, and now that my seas are mostly calm, my sails will never be torn again from my own stubborn desire to have them raised.
Maybe what happened six years ago this night was always meant for me. Maybe tomorrow morning will be, too. Either way, I’ll remain steadfast in my role … my control … the only thing I ever really need to do is just … breathe.
AUGUST 22, 2025: “Never Ordinary” …
Three Days Grace released this one today with their Alienation album on what also happens to be the anniversary of one of the worst days of my life, but even more so, THE worst day of hers. If only you knew what we know to be true about what she endured in the wake of his insanity, you’d be baffled as to how she’s still standing as one whole human being.
Nevertheless, she’s extraordinary. She’s fire … and magic … and courage … and kindness. She is so not like the others and has risen from ashes that should have literally desecrated her soul. Even still, SHE SHINES! And so, with that …
Dear Daughter,
We were NEVER ordinary, and all the weight we’ve carried will help us keep writing our story. In the darkest night, we were born to shine!
When the nights grew cold but our blood ran warm and everything we’d touched just seemed to melt away and leave us alone, no one understood the noises in our head but US. Such a simple melody playing over and over again. But why would we wanna blend in when we are drenched in gold? Never far, never out of reach, the embers in the dark lay quiet … burning just beneath. Isolated … complicated … we found a way to make it out alive (and not feel so alone)!
These days, when I look at you, I see that you’re just like me … a misfit runaway with gold plating underneath. I love you, Gia, and literally couldn’t be any prouder to call you “daughter” if I tried.
~ Momma
AUGUST 19, 2025: “Bring The Afterlife!” …
Guess who just turned THREE today? If you said, “It’s AfterLife by Five Finger Death Punch!” then DING DING DING DING DING! You won a prize! Let’s face it, though—that prolly didn’t happen, since not everyone’s an off-their-rocker knucklehead like me!
Meanwhile, let’s talk about it! The “afterlife,” that is! To begin, let’s take a look at guitarist Zoltan Bathory’s interpretation of this BANGER:
In his track-by-track commentary for Apple Music, Bathory reads “AfterLife” as a call to use our free will and take action in the life we have, rather than waiting for a higher power to intervene. He makes clear that this is his interpretation of Ivan Moody’s lyrics.
You’d cut your nose off just to spite your fuckin’ face! That’s who you are! You know your place! You let them lead you by the throat with broken hands! So, how’s the view beneath their shoe (and what’s your plan)? It goes on and on and on and on and on (an old broken record stuck on the same song)! It goes on and on and on and on and on (we all know it’s wrong, but we’re singing along)!
— Five Finger Death Punch, “AfterLife” (lyric excerpt)
And so, with that, I say THIS:
NO! No, I DON’T! No, I don’t wanna wait for Heaven to change me! No, I don’t wanna have to wait for the fall! No, I don’t wanna wait for Heaven to change things! I don’t wanna wait to fall on the knife! I don’t wanna wait! I DON’T WANNA WAIT! Forever after … this disaster … BRING THE AFTERLIFE!
AUGUST 12, 2025: “An Angry Daughter’s FAUXrytale SPECTER!” …
Dearest Me,
“Is this the place that we called home to find what we’ve become? Walking along the path unknown … we’ve lived, we’ve loved, we’ve LIED! Deep in the dark … we didn’t think we “needed” The Light … or that the ghost inside us belonged to the other side.”
(Words adapted from Bad Omens’ “Specter”)
Looking back, it literally blows my FUCKING mind how many heaping piles of toxic, twisted, and dysfunctional behavior I was surrounded by—ironically, most often in the very places I was forced not just to believe, but to tell other people were “safe and loving homes.” I was expected to perpetuate those disgusting “FAUXrytales” because the powers that were my life demanded it under the threat of: “What would people think if they knew the truth?” For years, I choked on silence and secrets amid the ABUSE, CHAOS and VIOLENCE that was my childhood—and that still reaches into my adulthood—all to protect the image of the PERFECT family “behind the gates”!
Guess what, though?
THAT version of me is gone! She’s as dead as the specter who still roams the corridors of my mind as a reminder of how we got here. I’ve GOTTEN to learn the VERY hard way that losing people who send wrecking balls through the walls of my heart and the places me and mine dwell is not a loss—it’s TOTAL freedom—and I’ll never betray or “ghost” myself with silence and lies again!
And so, with that … YES! Yes, I AM the angry daughter … ever the work in progress … and I’ll STAY this angry until MY daughter has finally moved THROUGH all the anger she inherited from both me and the generations before. She’s wielding it like a torch through her own haunted spaces … just like her momma … so that someday HER daughter (who I carried within MY womb, by the way) won’t ever have to stay angry for longer than is necessary to keep the specter of herself at bay … unless, of course, like me, she decides to pull out its little diamond-studded leash and walk proudly with it like a wild and beautiful BEAST with MY fire in her eyes and resilience coursing through her veins!
AUGUST 10, 2025: “In The Garden Of Betrayal!” …
In my opinion, the very first thing you should do before passing judgment or deciding how to respond when anyone betrays you (and trust me, it WILL happen to even the best of us at least once in life) is follow my “Peter v. Judas For The Dummies” system:
Simon Peter denied knowing Jesus three times out of fear. He was sorry, repented, was forgiven and restored, and went on to become one of THE most faithful Christian leaders in the history of forever.
Peter was SORRY!
Judas Iscariot betrayed Jesus with a kiss after agreeing to hand Him over for 30 freakin’ pieces of silver. Matthew tells us he felt remorse, returned the money, and acknowledged that he had betrayed innocent blood. He later died by suicide.
Remorse and restoration are NOT the same!
(Changed behavior matters!)
They BOTH betrayed Jesus … BUT … Peter’s story is an example of how forgiveness and grace can be shown when there is true remorse and a resulting change in behavior. It reminds me that even after serious mistakes, GENUINE repentance and a TRUE desire for forgiveness can open the door to restoration.
For me, the lesson is that feeling sorry and rebuilding trust are different things. Although we should forgive them (if for no other reason than clearing our OWN conscience), we must always use discernment when considering any further relationship with them.
So, who are the Peters or Judases in YOUR life? More importantly, who have you been to others? Peter … or Judas? I can admit that I’ve been both at different points in my journey, but thankfully I’ve grown past my Judas-y, “poor ‘lil victim” days gone by. Accountability is one of the best things I have for breakfast these days (even when it hurts to swallow).
JULY 29, 2025: “Page 388” …
JULY 29, 2025: “The PluvioFILES!” …
Many people consider a rainy day to be a bad weather day. Therefore, for anyone to think otherwise, that person must view the world from a unique perspective. There are many kinds of people in this world, and each has unusual habits and characteristics. That uniqueness is what makes pluviophiles different from the rest of the population. While some people love The Sun and enjoy being outdoors, others would rather stay inside where it’s cool and dry. These people are called pluviophiles, and they thrive in rain and storms.
(Pluviophile.net)
July 29, 2025, a.k.a. “Rain Day”! Who woulda ever thunk there’d be a day made just for me and all the other Jean-Claude Van DAMN storm-cloud-loving weirdos out there? It took me a minute to figure out why I love this kind of weather so much, but I finally did, and it was amazing!
… and BY the way! Did you know that around 234–232 million years ago, during the Late Triassic, Earth experienced an extraordinary wet interval known as the “Carnian Pluvial Event”? Over roughly one to two million years, repeated phases of increased rainfall helped reshape ecosystems. That upheaval may have helped pave the way for early dinosaurs and other organisms to diversify and thrive.
Meaning? To me, even our beautiful Mother EARTH has a phoenix story—life rising from the mud, grit, and “ashes” of upheaval! Pretty cool stuff, huh?
JULY 25, 2025: “The Ozzily EverAFTERglow!” …
So, the name Ozzy Osbourne is a name I have known my entire life. Me dad and me grandad first started playing me Sabbath when I was young. Ozzy is the definition of a rock and roll star. Fact. Underline it. He represents defiance to a world of regulation and normality.
He taught me that it’s okay to be mental … he taught me that it’s okay to be crazy. It’s okay to be an outsider … it’s alright to be different. Nah, fuck that, man … it’s BRILLIANT to be different.
His music, his attitude, is something that genuinely shaped me. It fookin’ did. Like, he was there when nobody else was. When everyone was like, ‘this kid’s a bit too mental … this kid’s a bit too out there.’ Fook it … Ozzy was there, man, for me and millions of kids and fookin’ all of ya.
A lot of people say ‘don’t meet your heroes’, but when I asked something of him as a man, not just as a rock star, he turned up for me. He was there when he didn’t need to be. He gave me half of his fookin’ salami sandwich and a ginger beer and the cross I’m wearing around my neck tonight which is something I’ll treasure forever.
He told me NEVER apologise for anything … people will understand you later, and I’ll never forget that moment, ’cause that’s all I fookin’ needed no matter what—like a proper rock and roll star saying that to me.
— Yungblud, presenting Ozzy Osbourne’s Icon Award at the 2023 Rolling Stone UK Awards.
Yes, it IS fookin’ BRILLIANT to be different!
Fact! UNDERLINE IT!
JULY 22, 2025: “The Prince Of Dark AND Lightness!” …
Have you ever heard me talk about Ozzy Osbourne? Nope. Was he one of my favorite rock stars? Yup.
But not for the reasons you may think. Oh, don’t get me wrong, folks! I’ve been a fan of his music all the way back to his Black Sabbath days, and there are quite a few of his songs I listen to on repeat.
Not the least of them is “See You On The Other Side,” which I’ve probably listened to once a week since Zach flew the coop for somewhere less fucking batshit crazy than the place he’d been trapped in during the months before he left.
So? Since we’re just shy of a month away from the sixth anniversary of his death, let’s do some math. 52 times 6? Yup. I’ve probably listened to it more than 300 times now!
Gene Simmons remembered Ozzy’s warmth, nonjudgmental spirit, and originality:
“Before Ozzy, there WAS no Ozzy.”
Gene Simmons, CBS Mornings
Can you even imagine having such epic and powerful words spoken about you in life, much less in death and your “ever after” legacy? If only I could be lucky enough one day to have even a single person say such beautiful words about me!
So, here’s to me thinking about working a little harder on my “nonjudgmental” piece of it all, ’cause EFF my often sanctimonious and judgmental, err, “Virgo-ness”!
Meanwhile, perhaps one of my favorite “humanities” about our now immortalized Prince Of Darkness is how he set the standard for all the rest of the freaks out here like me who simply cannot march to any cadence but our own.
Simply said? Ozzy made it seem almost normal to be the Jean-Claude Van DAMN effing mental freak of the world oddball I’m so “Ozzily” proud to be!
If only there were a way to get Merriam-Webster to just use a picture of him for the word “immortal,” oh, what a beautiful thing it would be! There are literally no descriptive words necessary that way.
Does anyone know who we can call to make this happen? I’m not EVEN joking! Dare I say that all of us oldies but goodies who were given carte blanche by this man to reign PROUDLY and HAPPILY either out loud or in the little private bat cages of our minds had BEST be telling our grandkids all “aBAT” how he set us free!
In the meantime …
Rest in peace, Mate! Here’s hoping you’re flying as free as the inner bat in all of us who came after you—just a flap, flap, FLAPPIN’ our crazy little wings (and wearing black clothes and winter caps in the middle of a 666-degree Texas summer). As for me? I shall heretofore only ever refer to you as the Prince Of Dark AND Lightness!
JULY 22, 2025: “Life Starts Now!” …
I find it no coincidence that on this day exactly 22 years ago, not only was the love of her life and my Number Five child (in order of arrival in my atmosphere) born, so too was the BAND of her lifetime, “Three Days Grace“! With that, and in keeping with the epic love story they’re already writing, I’ll just drop the words to her “soul song” … “Life Starts Now”:
Dear Daughter,
You used to say that you felt so down every time I turned around, and you’ve said you should’ve been gone by now. You used to think that everything was wrong, would often ask me how to carry on. Still, we’ve both made it through so many dark days and just … held … on! But LIFE STARTS NOW! You’ve done all the things that could kill you somehow, and you’re so far down, but you will survive it somehow … because life starts now. I’ve hated it every time I watched you fall down, then tried the best I could to pick you back up off the ground. I watched the weight of your world come down too many times to count. Now it’s your chance to move on and change the way that you’ve lived for so long. You’ve found the strength you had inside all along … and LIFE STARTS NOW! All of that pain? Take this life with that boy God blessed you with on the same day this band of your lifetime was born and make it yours! I love you, Daughter! And I love you, too, Number Five! HAPPY BIRTHDAY! I thank God every day that you showed up in all our lives not just in “this time”, but twenty two years ago! What are the chances that two of her FAVORITE things would be born on the same day? IT WAS WRITTEN IN THE STARS!
~ Mom
JULY 18, 2025: “The Landslide” …
Fifty years ago this month, Fleetwood Mac released their self-titled album, which gave us “Landslide.” If you’ve been following this Diary for any length of time, you know that I have “a song for every season,” “a reason for every song,” and a few so near to my heartstrings that I’ve memorialized them more than once.
This one, however, is now—and has always been—so moving and powerful to me that I’ve yet to find the proper words to honor it. And I know I’m not alone in that. It’s one of the most difficult songs for me to hear because it buries me in feelings so deep beneath my skin that I can’t make it through the first three seconds without literally “landsliding.” Now that I think of it, it’s one of my “go-tos” for those days when I just need to check my own pulse or make myself shed tears that need to be shed.
But guess who else was born twenty years ago today at the exact moment this entry is being published—4:29 p.m.? My firestorm of a muse daughter, who has long reminded me of Stevie with her wildflower gypsy heart and wise-beyond-her-years soul. So, what better way to honor them both? Still, how exactly do I bring together this song and the triumph that is my masterpiece on this day that ends both our journeys through “the teenage years”?
As far as I’m concerned, the true purpose of art in every form—and of the artists who create it—is to embody the fact that God is always here with us in all things, big and small. Whether we or even the artists themselves are aware of it, art can pull us through our faith journey by all but begging us to seek and find Him hidden in this masterful, complex, collaborative Creation He paints across the canvas of our souls.
Case in point: Michelangelo’s “The Creation of Adam,” part of the Sistine Chapel ceiling. God reaches toward Adam, while Adam’s hand is more relaxed, his finger slightly bent. Their fingers almost touch. To me, that small space holds something enormous: an invitation to reach back.
While studying this painting in college, I recall reading that the tiny gap between their fingers might have been intended to embody our “free will.” We can’t know with certainty that this was Michelangelo’s intention, but that interpretation has stayed with me. I see God reaching toward humanity with His love and divine energy, while we must actively choose to reach back.
In short? God’s love and presence are always patiently waiting nearby, but the connection requires that we choose it. And such is the story of the human parent-child journey as well, my friends. There comes a time for us to really cut the cords, hold on loosely, and just let them go on and fly. If we’ve done our job well, they’ll always come back to us. If not, pray God we find the error in any of our ways that caused them to run away and never look back—and, even more so, that we’re offered the grace of an opportunity to make things right.
Now then, back to “Landslide” …
Stevie has described writing it at a vulnerable crossroads, unsure whether to keep pursuing music with Lindsey Buckingham. I hear it as a conversation she had with herself while looking out at the mountains in Aspen, which I, of all people, can appreciate as an avid “talk and sing love songs to yourself” kinda girl.
Her bittersweet take on navigating uncertainty through ever-changing and fleeting times—and her fear of how quickly things can come crashing down around us—is a gentle yet haunting reminder that the best any of us can do is savor every last drop of love like it’s the last we’ll ever taste, remain prepared for change when it’s time to let some seasons go, and continually search for ways to fortify ourselves with the resilience it takes to survive here.
And so, with that, I say THIS to not just my baby girl on her 20th birthday, but my son, their future spouses, AND my future grands:
No, I’m NOT afraid of changin’, though I’ve built my life around YOU. Time really has made me bolder as I’ve gotten older, and you’re getting older, too.
So, when you see my reflection in the mirror of your skies, don’t you DARE worry about all those landslides! You’re MY kids, you see, which means YOU GOT THIS, because just as the child in MY heart learned to rise above the many changing seasons of my life with the “Power + Grace” of a battle-born warrior forged from fire, so too will the children OF my heart! Now, go on and sail through those ocean tides and climb some mountains! But also? Don’t forget to stop back home ANY time you want.
Just because you’re heading off to build kingdoms and castles of your own now, it doesn’t mean you won’t ALWAYS have open doors and rooms here in mine!
I love you to The Moon and back! … Momma
JULY 5, 2025: “Life’s A Bitch, But I’m Unshaken!” …
JULY 4, 2025: “The Sound Of Silence” …
Let the dissonance echo inside your ears. I am your worst nightmare … Fear me! I am the sound of silence.
— Sail’s End, “The Sound of Silence”
But, alas! There is NOTHING to fear in the wake of the deafening silence that oft becomes our worst nightmare while waiting for the retribution we cry out for when we’ve been wronged or our name has been smeared.
FEAR NOT!
I mean, ALLS I’m saying is no, you do NOT have to defend yourself when people have done you dirty and inked out your story according to their narrative! Yah … NOPE!
God really is in every room, whether you believe it, like it, or not, and HIS signature at the end of that page is the only one that counts, sooo …
The plans for your defense were laid out perfectly ahead of time, so all you have to do is just sit back, shut your trap, hold your breath, watch, and WAIT! Meanwhile, don’t you think for even one second in that silly ‘lil head of yours that He doesn’t know exactly how it feels to endure mockery in silence.
I mean, HELLO? Have you seen “humanity” running all amuck down here mocking HIS name and Creation? Do you remember what they did to His Son? If anyone knows how hard it is to just “hurry up and wait” for justice to be served … IT’S HIM! So, yes, He knows how much it’s killing you to hold your tongue.
No one gets left behind—I PROMISE! So, if it feels like God is just too quiet for you right now, have some faith and be patient! He’s not done loading up His quill yet, and YES, He’s got your entire CLOCK (which is even better than just your six)! So says The Queen (who also just happens to be God’s FAVORITE daughter)!
JUNE 29, 2025: “The List!” …
(REAL Cat’s Rules For A Better Life):
👉🏼Be kind!
👉🏼Be humble!
👉🏼Be genuine!
👉🏼Be authentic!
👉🏼Create magic!
👉🏼So, choose your circle wisely!
👉🏼Blaze trails (even TINY ones)!
👉🏼Sing love songs to YOURSELF!
👉🏼Forgiveness. JUST forgiveness!
👉🏼Don’t take anything personally!
👉🏼Be as pure of heart as possible!
👉🏼Be serious (only when necessary)!
👉🏼Be ridiculous (the rest of the time)!
👉🏼Be IMPECCABLE with your words!
👉🏼Always protect your BOUNDARIES!
👉🏼Learn how to be alone, not “lonely”!
👉🏼Make peace with the face in the mirror!
Oh, and there’s one last thing I forgot, which is actually THE most important:
👉🏼Accept the cold, hard FACT that Lucky Charms ARE, indeed, an entire food group of their own and a 100% “meal in a bowl”!
Bye, everyone, it’s me, CAT!
(ps)
JUNE 28, 2025: “17 Years Later” …
It was June 6, 2008 on American Airlines Flight 438 from Nice to Dallas after chaperoning my son’s class trip abroad when he walked onto our plane, took the window seat in the empty row beside mine, and slid the cocktail napkin onto my tray …
Looks like you need to talk. I’m a good listener.
He’d just watched me trying not to fall apart listening to “The Real Life” for the first time in my life. Just hours before that Godforsaken (or was it GodSENT?) note appeared, I’d just shed my first layer with our Israeli tour guide, “Adoram,” the first of two innocent bystanders foolish enough to ask me, “What’s wrong?”
With them, I was just “speaking,” and they were listening. No judgement. No advice. Just two people I never thought I’d see again and felt “safe” to slit my wrists upon and verbally vomit what was then an entire lifetime of “secrets” that were killing me. If only they’d known what they were signing up for, right? I was like a really bad song on a radio they just couldn’t shut off — two unwilling soldiers in the war of me reconciling my own soul.
By the way …
YES, I was married when we met. NO, I never slept with him. (Although he’s one of the only men I have or will ever let really “hug” me.) YES, emotional affairs are cheating. YES, it was wrong. NO, I’m not ashamed of it. YES, I’d still send that “email heard round the world” and flip over the proverbial game table of my then “perfectly BULLSHIT” life! YES, I’m still very much in contact with “The Flyboy,” who still lives in Sweden, and YES, I very much do love him. We speak on the phone as often as we can, and I see him whenever he’s in Dallas for his pilot simulator training. YES, he loves me, too. YES, he’s going to see this because he’s been here reading The Diary and on my social media “hiding in PLANE sight” all the while. And so, with that …
Dear Flyboy,
Hi there, it’s me again! Thank you! Just THANK YOU! This REAL life I live now truly is so far away from the liar, liar, pants on fire fake one I used to, err, “live,” and I have God, Adoram, you, and that silly little napkin to blame for it!
~ Love Forever … ME!
