Just One More Time

I started this blog with the intention of sharing as much as I could and being fully transparent, but doing this has meant the possibility of bringing pain to some of the people I love most. I can’t do that. As much as I’ve tried to share my story, I always end up tweaking my posts, removing pieces I know could re-open wounds. Every time I’ve posted something new, I panic. I cringe. I feel my shame wash over me, gloating in the fact that it’s never left. I can’t help but feel frustrated, like when is it MY turn? am I ignorant and childish for wanting one last turn? For wanting the last word? When do I get to no longer worry about hurting anyone anymore, when all I’ve done is be hurt? Such a victimized way of thinking of things, no? When do I get to shamelessly tell my story, without feeling weighted down by the guilt of my pain? When can I face the demons, who somehow morphed into angels, without feeling horrible for reminding them of the pain they‘ve caused me. Then the question arises: where do the lines become more clear? From being broken from our pasts and needing constant validation to being allowed to angrily call out those who hurt us? We’re constantly told that looking back only keeps us tethered to our past and deters us from focusing on the future. But some of us can’t help and look backwards, some of us still need saving.

Do you remember when we would watch movies on VHS tapes? when the movie was over, we’d rewind it and sometimes the film would get stuck, the ribbons would tangle and the screen would get all blurry; that’s kind of how I feel right now...not that I want to go back in time and change anything, I simply want to rewind the tape to try and catch something I may have missed, feel something different, change my perspective. But the tape keeps getting stuck and everything keeps blurring. I’m beginning to realize that I’ve got to figure out how to stop trying to rewind the tape, accept that the movie won’t play anymore and understand that It’s time to put it back on the shelf and snap myself back to reality.

In my first blog post I spoke about the courage of searching deep within, and the bravery it takes to trek back into the darkness and find the pieces of ourselves we lost years ago. I am convinced that we cannot move forward without healing first, without turning back, in doing so we simply cheat ourselves - and we’ve already been cheated time and time again…I have asked myself several times, since starting this blog, should I take advantage of the fact that the world is finally listening and people finally understand what my life really was? That now that I’m grown the world believes me, NOW people are listening. Now that I’ve lost such a huge part of myself and my life. How is that fair?

We reach this point in our lives where we tell ourselves that we are no longer allowed to be angry, we are convinced that we’re no longer allowed to hurt. We’ve convinced ourselves that we are not allowed to feel the pain of our pasts. Because those around us have healed, we must. Because things are better, we have to turn our backs on our sadness... but the thing is, I can’t... there’s a little girl, crouched in a dark room, just as lost as she was the day I left her; I closed the door only for a minute and those minutes turned into years, into more pain, into more doors and dark rooms. The past couple of years I have been trying to to go back to her, continuously losing myself along the way.

How do I justify that, although I am overjoyed by the progress and insane changes in my life, I still find myself lost in my memories. I still I get this sick feeling in the pit of my stomach and I can hardly breathe... that it all happens so haphazardly, sucking me in, dragging me down. I could be laughing with friends, smiling with family, having dinner with my husband and the feeling creeps up out of nowhere, enveloping me in misery; drowning me in its waves.

Then I consider that maybe I don’t want to forget what I went through, because I’m scared that if I do I’ll lose myself. My memories need a friend, my pain needs a companion. I don’t know who I am without my pain. Pathetic isn’t it? That life can be going so wonderfully, yet Subconscious we choose to not allow ourselves to really heal. I know I sound dysfunctional. I know people have been through much more dramatic life experiences and they’ve learned to live and thrive in spite of what has hurt them. But for some reason, I can't. There are days where I wake up and I feel like I could conquer the world and others where I feel completely lost. And then there are days I am angry at myself for getting in my own way. I am angry at myself for allowing all of this to resurface and letting it affect my life. I am angry that I cannot allow myself to simply be happy; Then I realize this is life for most of us - For those who caused us pain, for those that caused them pain and so on. Some of us choose to run as far away from it as possible and never look back and some of us still sit in our dark rooms sobbing uncontrollably, not telling a single soul. Some of us are jolted awake in the dead of night, panicked from memories projected into nightmares. Some of us stay up through the night haunted and feeling sick to our stomachs, unable to really explain why. We don't want to tell anyone, people are tired of hearing, right? we assume people are sick of listening to us dissect our stories, of seeing us break over and over and over again. “Why can’t you just enjoy your life now and just move on?” “Why do you allow this negative energy to drive you?” “This is so unhealthy, aren’t you tired of it?” God only knows how exhausted I truly am...

The very idea of moving forward is so overwhelmingly terrifying. If I’m being honest, I hate the reality that it’s all disappeared, I’ve really lost an entire portion of my life; My childhood, my birth mother, my youth. Gone. You mean to tell me I need to pack all of this up and watch it float away. You mean, I really will never get to relive the years I lost? My mother will never be who I need her to be? At some point little Celena will have to cut her losses and either stay behind or catch up? My family will never be able to recreate the memories we never got to make? My siblings will never have the big sister they so needed growing up? They’ll forever remember laying on the other side of my door, whispering to me through the crack - not being able to do anything more. I have to leave every memory painted on my bedroom walls, every tear, secret, scream those walls absorbed will just stay there, locked away in that room... to die…? I can't... How do I turn around and shut the door on me, on us, on my broken family? How do I become as strong as I should be and Where lies my true strength - Is it in the ability to forget and move on? Is it in the ability to face my demons and wear my shame and pain with pride? Is it in remaining positive and happy, even when my inner child is still weeping?

I know for those who’ve been kind enough to follow me from post one, you might be tired of seeing the darkness that I constantly paint with my words and I am sorry. I am sorry that I bring more of what can be described as obscurity into these posts, than I do healing and light. I’m so sorry that through each post I’ve reached a point where I sound like a broken record. But, if I am being honest, I have just needed to know someone hears me. I’ve needed to know my pain is being acknowledged, just one more time. I have never written these posts for attention or pity, I don’t write these blog posts to bring feelings of shame or guilt to anybody; I write them because everytime I post, people reach out, people who are too afraid to voice all of their inner demons, people who just want to know someone out there gets them.

These posts have been a way for me to discover who I am and in doing so really connecting with the beautiful souls that surround me. I don't need another prayer, I don't need another dysfunctional, twisted church. I don't need Jesus. I don't need religion. I don’t need another hug, another “ i am so sorry that happened to you.” I just need to break and feel at peace doing it. I haven’t been ok for a while... I’ve been feeling myself slowly spiral into my sadness and, although that‘s all just part of a bigger and better process, I need to give it the love and attention it deserves. It will be a long time before I am completely ok, I am beginning to realize that now.

Throughout the past couple of months I’ve come to the conclusion that I want to take this year to really acknowledge all of my pain, to give her the validation she needs, make her feel loved and finally release her. I need to find myself, really find myself. I need to heal for me, for my future, for my family that is now, for my husband. I need to break into a million, jagged, painful little pieces in the messiest way possible. I have already found my path to healing, it’s just getting there that has taken some time and beginning the trek on that path means some really hard battles, a lot of tears, and some harsh visits from an angry and fractured past.

For those who have taken the time to read my posts, thank you. Sharing my story with all of you has been one of the hardest and best things I have ever done. Every single person that has reached out, that has commented, called, approached me - you have all made a massive impact on my life and assisted in me finding my voice. So, thank you for stepping into my heart, for taking the time to read what I have shared with you. Thank you for believing in me, trusting me, for hearing me. Thank you for acknowledging me, in doing so showing me love and compassion. My advice to all of you: please always know and understand that your pain is valid. Your broken heart matters. You must heal at your pace and if it takes you longer than others, that is ok. It is always ok. Accept that the process of healing is Sometimes ugly and those who truly love you, will love every piece of your dysfunction as you figure out how to put yourself back together. In the rawest words possible, Fuck anyone that compromises your safety, that dismisses you, makes you feel invalid and insignificant. Fuck anyone that tries to assume they know who you are... how could they, when we have yet to figure that out for ourselves? If you need to break, just one more time, then just break. Cry. Scream. Shake your fist at the sky and tell the universe that she hasn’t been fair - she knows. But let’s not stay there; Let’s break, heal and then, let’s grow.