do not think your finding this is a coincidence.

Published in: on May 28, 2011 at 6:25 pm  Leave a Comment  

food for thought..

Published in: on May 15, 2011 at 1:22 pm  Comments (2)  

And We Burned.

It has been a while. The last time I wrote on here, that same day, not even 2 hours after I posted that, my town was swallowed by a wildfire. This wildfire is officially the largest wildfire to EVER strike my state. It is just ending today, and the last count yesterday was 313,000 acres burned. 21 homes lost, some 60 structures gone. 170+ cattle dead, at least 9 horses, countless pets and an unthinkable amount of wildlife. As I stated in that last post, I had to go because I had to get to work. I live 10 miles out of town, but work downtown. After I got there, we got word that a wildfire was raging out of control and heading directly for our town, re: us. Sure enough, thick orange smoke took over and ash was falling from the sky. The electricity went out and the town was evacuated immediately as the fire was coming into town.

I couldn’t see 10 feet in front of me as I was running, heart thudding in my ears, to my car. Ash was thick in the air, falling from the sky like the most horrifying snow I’ve ever seen. I sped towards my sisters house to grab her dogs before leaving town, and it was truly terrifying. The winds were whipping at 50, 60mph into town, and the fire was right there. Once I had her dogs, I took off and as I was racing out of town, away from the fire, I looked around me. Really looked around. I saw firefighters standing on the sidewalks, going into the same monster I was running from, to save people they did not know. I saw families, children, elderly, teenagers – all being forced to leave their belongings and homes behind, not knowing if they would ever see them again. I saw the shock, disbelief, and terror on everyone’s faces – as well as my own. As the smoke started to clear as I got further into the mountains towards my house, I began crying. Weeping. For everyone and everything affected. It was devastating to me that so quickly, this tiny town could become the target of such a disaster, and that there was simply nothing I could do but watch as people’s entire lives were burned to the ground.

We thought we were safe, 10 miles out of town. Unfortunately not – it raged on through town and came within 2 miles of our house that first night, and we were evacuated. The rest is history(truly). The good news is that we have faired okay through this 24 day long disaster. Everything we own is still safe, as well as us. We are lucky, and we know it.

It was proof to me that things can and do change in an instant. Our lives are not guaranteed, nor are those of the ones we love. We are not promised a tomorrow where the things we know will still be there. Where we will still be there. This instant may be the last you ever have. What if this was your last conscious thought? There may never be a chance to say I’m sorry, I love you, or goodbye. I want you to think right now about anybody you care about. Are things okay with them? If today was your last day, would the people you love know you did? It is something to think about.

And again, let’s not forget:

Published in: on May 3, 2011 at 6:19 pm  Leave a Comment  

I Didn’t Forget

It’s true that my memory is next to nothing, but I did not forget about this blog. In fact, I’ve thought of it quite a lot since my last post. The problem is, I’ve been struggling, and what is worth living for has not been terribly apparent to me, therefore I haven’t had much to post. At least, not much positive. And I want positive, I want to post things that will lift people’s spirits up. So, before I leave for work I decided I had to post something.

I’ll start it off by posting a song. This is not the typical kind of music I listen to, and I cannot remember the circumstances that led to me coming across this song a year ago, but here it is regardless. It is called ‘Babygirl’ by someone named Brother Ali.

I really do recommend listening to it. If you do not want to for some reason though, here are the lyrics:

There’s big pieces of her life she can’t remember
Her mind shuts down, it’s trying to protect her
Might be for the best to forget
But it seems like they always reappear when she least expects.
Late nights we lay awake
Drowning in the lake that pours out of her face
Years later she’s still not safe
Memories leap out any time, any place
The way he smelled, the way he smiled
The evil she even recognized as a child
Hand on her throat, the sting of a fist
Instead of her first kiss she got this..
Shameful feeling, painful secret
Lonely knowing that nobody would believe it
Every wound that escapes her time capsule
Hurts like the day it was born and it’s brand new

I wasn’t there babygirl but I’m here
I don’t know what to say, I just hear
If there’s one wish I could make true
I would shoulder that pain and take it off of you
Don’t run babygirl don’t run
You gotta face what you’re fighting head on
Only one thing I can say in truth
Gotta deal with the demons before they deal with you

[Verse 2]
How can she find peace in her mind
When love means returning to the scene of a crime?
I can feel it inside
We reopen wounds every time we intertwine
Such an evil design
When you can’t even enjoy the sweetness you find
Trying to see through the tears in your eyes
And rebuild your shrine one piece at a time
E and the K made it all fade away
Colors don’t burn no more, it’s all grey
Can’t find heaven from within that shell
But it’s enough of a blessing just not seeing hell.
Constant inner-dialog
Says just end this roller coaster ride you’re on
Only one solution seems final
Slide into a hole where your pain can’t find you

I wasn’t there babygirl but I’m here
I don’t know what to say, I just hear
If there’s one wish I could make true
I would shoulder that pain and take it off of you
Don’t run babygirl don’t run
You gotta face what you’re fighting head on
Only one thing I can say in truth
Gotta deal with the demons before they deal with you

[Verse 3]
She says ‘if I was meant to die, he would’ve killed me’
There must be a reason that I still breathe
I don’t have the tools to rebuild me
But I still believe that one day I can feel free
And my body can be mine again
My eyes can learn how to shine again
My inner child won’t have to hide and then
And then when I’m stronger love can be invited in
Sweet God that’s all I ask of thee
I’m willing to give what you demand of me
I’m learning to embrace the reality
That life doesn’t always turn out how it’s planned to be
I didn’t deserve what was handed me
Only one who can grant happiness is me
What it takes for her to face a day
I can only hope to be half that brave

I wasn’t there babygirl but I’m here
I don’t know what to say, I just hear
If there’s one wish I could make true
I would shoulder that pain and take it off of you
Don’t run babygirl don’t run
You gotta face what you’re fighting head on
Only one thing I can say in truth
Gotta deal with the demons before they deal with you
This song is powerful already. And then for me to hear a man saying these things, it makes me feel hope for myself that not all men are bad. Something interesting to me is that Brother Ali was born with the rare genetic condition of being albino. He is also legally blind. It is interesting to me, do people have to be blind to truly see? Because this guy has the clearest vision of any male I’ve met.

Off the subject of the song now, I do have to leave for work soon and so I will leave everyone with these

I hope with everything I have that all of you either have someone who is like that, or that you find that person as soon as possible. We all need someone who won’t give up on us, even when we give up on ourselves.

I love you all,

Published in: on April 9, 2011 at 2:06 pm  Comments (1)  

Where I’m At

My childhood consisted of Disney movies, playing Barbie with my three older sisters, and sex. Can you guess what my mind remembers first when someone brings up the wonders of childhood? The horrors of mine. From the ages of 3 until I was 8, I was repeatedly molested and raped. I was babysat by my alcoholic grandmother and her 20-years-younger-than-her, abusive, drug addict, boyfriend. He abused my grandma physically. He abused me sexually. Why was I ever entrusted into the hands of the known alcoholic, selfish, and manipulative person in the family? And when the guy, who everyone knew beat her on a regular basis, was there? I have no idea. I wonder that all the time. None of my sisters were ever put into her care. But she and her boyfriend watched me 5 days a week, every week.

I never told anyone outright about the abuse. The only hint I gave was when I was 4(I very clearly recall this moment, for some reason) and my dad was supposed to have the day off work. They called him in, and he called my grandma to see if they would watch me. He got off the phone with her, and said he was going to take me over to her house. I asked him if ______ would be there. He said yes, and I proceeded to start sobbing and yelling “Please don’t make me go over there with him!” I was a quiet and cooperative kid, I literally never threw tantrums. Apparently this was all not enough of a sign that something wasn’t right, though, because nobody questioned why I acted that way. Instead, my dad got angry(oh, my dad also had anger issues and was physically abusive towards my sisters and I from when I was a baby until I was about 9/10) and called my grandma back to see if ______ would leave. She said no, “he didn’t have to leave his own house” for me. And that was that. I went over there to the both of them and was molested, anyway. I never ‘acted out’ again.

There were unspeakable acts done to me throughout those years, and 95% of them I still have never told to anybody. My grandma found out about my abuse, at some point. She never stopped it, and she turned her head the other way when he went back to her room once I was put down for my afternoon “nap.” To this day, I cannot take naps. I start shaking, and if I ever do actually fall asleep(for instance, if I was up the whole night before), I wake up and throw up. Needless to say, my entire kindergarten year was shit. Nap time? Starting at when that was announced, I spent the rest of the school day in choking-sobs, crying at the table while the teachers assistant tried without success to comfort me. I have never forgotten this teacher’s assistant. She had an unending amount of patience with me, and comforted me every day, no matter how repetitive. The teacher herself screamed at me every day for crying(this teacher was fired at the end of the year). I came home sad from school one day, and when my mom asked what was wrong, I told her that the teacher was always mean and yelled at me. She brushed it off as me being sensitive at having gotten in trouble from something, and nothing was ever done about that situation. Let’s just say I learned fairly early that telling people about anything wrong was pointless. The only reason the sexual abuse from my grandma’s boyfriend ended was because my grandmother finally left him when he broke her arm. I cut off all contact with my grandma about a year ago.

When I was 16(I am 18 now), I told my mom about what had happened when I was younger. Since then, the shit has hit the fan and nothing has been the same. Some things have changed for the better, but most for the worse. My family believes me, but they sort of don’t understand how to handle things. My mom handles it by crying whenever it’s brought up(so, I don’t ever bring it up) and hating herself. My dad deals with it by not talking about it and leaving the room when anything about sexual abuse or rape is brought up(not even if it’s about MY experiences! It can just be the word, and he bails), and my sisters never, ever speak about it. Now I feel like I’m living in this terribly awkward world where there is an elephant in the room, and everyone goes on pretending this isn’t there, and they expect me to do that as well. The problem is, it’s much easier to ignore an elephant when it isn’t standing on top of you. And that’s exactly what it feels like, for me. Everyone is ignoring something that is suffocating me. I’m not entirely sure how I’ve gotten through these last two years. Slowly, it feels like. If I were to guess, I’d say my survival is in direct thanks to my horses(ah, we should get this out of the way: I live for horses. Arabian horses, to be exact. I own(and work to afford) 4), music, drawing, writing, and photography. All of these things allow me to escape for some amount of time. Anyway, let’s continue on.

On January 29th, 2010, I went to the local police station and filed a police report on the bastard who hurt me as a kid. It entailed giving them my written and spoken statements, and that was extremely difficult. Especially since it was only me and a male officer who took my statement in the room. I went home after that and slept the entire day away.

When I was 12, I started cutting myself. That has been something I’ve struggled with since then, always with the mindset that if I could hurt myself worse than he had, it would ease the pain of what he had done. Of course, nothing physical can ever compare to what he did. On Halloween of 2010, I drank with some friends, went home, and lost it. Broke down, and started cutting. I was appalled at how much blood there was and yet, I felt no pain at all. After a while of this, sudden realization dawned on me that oh, shit – the bleeding wasn’t stopping, and everywhere I had cut, the skin was just gaping open, refusing to close. The first words out of my mouth when I realized this? “Oops.” Haha. Queen of understatements. So, I got myself fixed up and have not hurt myself since then. It sort of brought home the fact that I could never hurt myself as bad as he had – I could saw off my arm with a dull knife and it still wouldn’t be enough. But I could care about myself more than he had. And that was very easy. The day I ceremoniously threw all my razors off a high bridge over a dry river near our house, I had already cared about me more than he ever had or would. That’s not to say I haven’t been triggered into wanting to self-harm since then – I have. But something new is driving me away from it this time, and I’m certainly hoping that part of my journey is over with.

I saw a picture the other day, this one:

and my first thought was that this photo is exactly what I imagine(if you were to give it a photo) it being like when you chose to lose your innocence. This felt like the essence of that, to me. Of course, I can’t think about innocence without that whisper in my mind that mine is no more. And so then I thought about what photo I would give myself for how I lost mine. What popped into my mind was that it feels like someone took MY jar, and smashed it into the concrete over and over before I was ready – effectively killing the butterflies inside and irreparably damaging that jar. Very suitably, a few images later, I found the photo I would give myself. This:

He broke what I had, and handed me my dead butterfly. And in some ways, I feel like I am still that little girl, clutching a dead butterfly in her hands and wondering when it will wake up.

You know what that just reminded me of? I remember when I was in elementary school, and we were studying caterpillars/butterflies. I found a cocoon on our garage door, and was ECSTATIC. I was so thrilled, and so I got a jar and put grass and twigs in it, and plucked the cocoon off the garage door and put it in the jar. I took it to school the next day, and showed the teacher. We set the jar on my desk, and waited for the cocoon to hatch. After a couple months, everyone knew it had died. And I absolutely refused to believe them. It couldn’t not hatch, right? I couldn’t have killed it. At the end of the school year, I took my cocoon home and set it on my bedside table. I waited.
And it never hatched.
After over a year of having had this cocoon in it’s jar, my mom finally told me it really was gone, and I should let it go. I eventually buried it in our backyard, and cried the entire time. I told it how sorry I was.
I have never forgotten that, but pushed it(along with many things) towards the back of my mind. Similar to my explanation of how being raped as a child felt emotionally, isn’t it? You know, I still feel bad about that god damn butterfly. I still think, if I hadn’t plucked it off the garage door, it probably would have survived. Would it have? I once read a magazine article once and someone(cannot recall who) said something that has forever stuck with me: there is no such thing as what might have happened. There is what did happen, and what will happen. It just seemed such an interesting point of view, for someone who is forever haunted by “maybe if I had ___, this wouldn’t have happened.”

Well, this has at the least been a great word-vomit post. A lot has been said, although definitely not everything. Whether any of it will be found interesting or useful by someone else is a whole other story. All I know is that I am tired, and this likely is all I have to contribute tonight.

Love to you all,

Published in: on February 5, 2011 at 10:09 pm  Comments (3)  

The First.

Because it is late, I’ve decided to only post this for tonight. Something simple and true.

And every single one is important.
Don’t ever forget that.

Published in: on February 4, 2011 at 11:17 pm  Comments (3)