Part 2

If you are new to the blog start in the April post....

About a year after being released from the hospital, after I had gone through some physical and speech therapy to regain what I had lost from my illness, I was molested by my biological father, at 2 1/2 years old. I have found that even now 23 years later this is something that I struggle to write about. This man that should have been the one to teach me softball, taken me on daddy-daughter dates, and threaten my dates at the door, turned into a dark shadow that has haunted me for years.
My parents had separated shortly after I left the hospital because he had an affair with my nurse while I was in the hospital, along with other women. He was also extremely physically and mentally abusive to her.
One night while my mom was on patrol in Seattle, my grandmother was giving me a bath, I told her that my daddy had hurt my bum, when my grandmother questioned me about it and asked me where he had touched me I showed her and told her what happened. My grandmother told my mom what I had told her. The only thing that I remember from that night is the bubble bath ice cream cone that sat in the corner of the tub.
My mom took me to a hospital to have the doctors examine me. I remember more of that visit than I wish too. I remember the happy childlike pictures that hung on the walls, the size of the room, where my mother stood as the doctors examined me. I remember the satin little girl panties I was wearing. I can still see the view I had as I was lying on the examination table. There were doctors and nurses looming over me, a male doctor standing in the front. I remember my knees being up, and the doctor moving my legs apart so he could check me. I don't remember much after that. The doctors concluded that the abuse had gone on for several months. There was tearing, bruising, etc that showed forceful signs of rape. Rape. I cannot even begin to imagine the horror that my mother must have felt to hear this. Rape at such a young age, is so common, yet unfathomable.
At the time this was happening, my mother was working as a police officer for King County, Washington. Being a pretty woman on the force may have its perks but it can also be what almost gets you killed. I'll tell you more in my next post.

The beginning of a warrior's tale Part 1

I said awhile back that I wanted to share my story, this is where it begins.

When I was 18 months old I was diagnosed with Spinal Meningitis. There were several children that came down with the illness at the same time. I was given a 3% chance of surviving. The doctor told my mother she should start planning for my funeral. My mother, a woman of great strength, refused to listen. My fever was so high that I was on an ice bed for months. I had a tube in my chest, a tracheotomy, I.V's in both hands in various places, a tube under my belly button, and others. I lost the blood supply to my feet and lost 3 toes on each foot which grew back even though the doctors said there was no way they would. During my stay in the hospital all of the other children with Spinal Meningitis died. One little boy survived but was left mentally disabled and in a wheelchair, if I remember right I was told he later died. I was the only one left. The doctor said I should have been a vegetable for the rest of my life, or at the very least deaf, blind, or both. But I survived. I was left learning how to walk and talk again, a small feat for being granted a chance at life, my survival was nothing short of a miracle.

I was released from the hospital 3 months later, free of any disability. Little did I know that the infidelity and horror had already begun, and the worst was yet to come.

I still bare the physical scars from the many tubes and I.V.'s that were placed in my body to keep me alive. My toes are a visual reminder every day that I survived. Some people may think that I should be embarrassed about my toes because they don't look normal, but they make me unique. Sure I have days when I am self conscious about them, But I know that i wouldn't feel the same with 'normal' toes. They are a part of my story, my battle to survive.

Healing Journey

I've had this feeling lately to be free. Free from a past that has haunted me for years. Free from the anger it has inflicted on my heart. My journey is one of physical & mental healing from years of torment, and also one of accepting and forgiving things that were done to me. Some of you may know of my struggle, but only part of it. It is so complex that many people do not believe it when they hear it. It resembles something out of a movie. But through these struggles I have learned alot, even if it has only been in recent years. A friend once told me that I have an old soul, the things I have experienced have given me a wise soul in some respects I suppose. The anger that I have felt has consumed me, and that is a hard thing to admit. It has damaged my health to the point that I was told my body was shutting down. I had to run on adrenaline for so many years unable to have time to heal just struggling to survive that my body had had enough. It's only been recently that I have found the strength to heal. Even my own husband didn't know the story, and was so lost as to how to help me. The experience has left me unable to have more children, but I see it as a blessing, that my journey through life is not to have many children, but to help those that I meet, to help them overcome their trials. There are times that I have to sit back and say no. But I believe that God carried me through my past so that I may be a strength to others in the future. I hope that you will go on this journey with me and be patient with me as I struggle. I promise I am not crazy, I am just trying my best to heal for myself and my family. I want to share my story so that it can be heard, so that others know it is possible to survive even the worst trauma. I know that there will be those that shrug it off, and that's fine, there are those that do not want to believe that things that happened to me actually happen, but they do. I ask you to listen with an open heart and mind, and to keep me in your prayers. God bless, Cheri

I will not lie....

this past week and a half has been hard, Brandon is gone on active duty for a month, usually when he leaves I am fine, but this time is different, it could be that I am in school fulltime, trying to raise a 4 yr old. I feel so broken, so unbalanced, like I am barely staying above water, as soon as I find my tread, another crap storm hits, leaving me to feel as though I am sinking again, when I have been fighting so hard just keep my head above water. I know I am stronger than this, I keep telling myself, so why has this been so hard? I watched someone I love who had fallen down, start to pick herself up, only to watch her fall again, I am left wondering why it is we help, when most of the time people don't want help, even when they say they do. A dear friend said it is to help ourselves, something I am trying to grasp again. I became to wrapped up and now I am trying to find my way out, looking for the slightest light to begin walking towards, its been a battle to even write this, but I needed to it out...again. So I apologize to those who had already heard this and listened to me whine. Nothing is feeling right, and hasn't for a while, even things and people who usually are a comfort, have not pacified. I pray the light comes soon, and that I catch up on my sleep, Im not sure I can stay like this for much longer, without sinking into despair. This is my spring break damn it! I have earned it, and I am done doing things for other people on my break starting now. This was suppose to be my time, not 'cheri do this, cheri do that' I pray that the lord watches over me and yours.

Ashes

I burned the letter I wrote you today, A symbol of how I feel for you,
I burned each piece until it was unrecognizable, I held it till it burned my fingers,
my hatred towards you burned away with it,
the fatigue I felt for you dissipated.
I feel tired & drained,
yet lighter in soul, a part of me returned.
No longer can you hurt me, damage me unrecognizable,
I am tired now after releasing you, setting myself free,
My hands and clothes smell of ashes, ashes of you left behind.

Morning

I awoke this morning to storm clouds, a few minutes later the smell of rain breezed past my nose, a welcome relief to the chaos of the past few weeks, a breathe of fresh air. My soul is calmer, my mind is quiet, this reminds me of home, of the tranquility we are meant to feel. i kept the lights down this morning just keep the mood of the storm.

Power of Persuasion

As I've started to clean up certain aspects of my life and put things into perspective, I have this little voice that creeps into my head and tries to bring anger into whatever situation I find myself in. Angry words that try to creep out of my mouth, words that I have tried to forget, I find that I repeat myself over and over when I get angry, getting irritated at the slightest sound sometimes. I've learned to recognize this feeling through energy work and realize that it is Satan trying to get at me anyway he can. I don't think we realize the way he works. I think it is downplayed. He tempts us with food, porn, sex, spending money where we shouldn't, feeling lazy, etc. Now I am not saying that it is always him, but he has learned to seep in where he can little by little, to find where our weaknesses are, he plays on our fears, and magnifies them. I remember being extremely sick for a few years, and feeling afraid to go outside, or go to the store. A social phobia some would call it. (I personally don't believe in these cliche names like bi polar, social phobia, etc, etc. These are names pharmaceutical companies have come up with to sell their drugs, they are labels.) I find that these feelings come back every so often as a way of holding me back from progressing. He loves more than anything to hold us back. I was recently taught to recognize these feelings, when negative thoughts or emotions come into my mind to say "Satan Get Thee Hence" with all the courage I can summon. Because we are more powerful than him, in the sense that we have a body, something that he squandered. We have free agency, something I think we let him take from us from time to time, and sometimes take from ourselves. Telling him off, that he is not going to mess with our family I have found works too. There is always a way back.
Here's to now....