Rational Record

A dear friend of mine has come back into my life. And, in doing so has reminded me that sometimes writing out the memory is better than writing the emotions that the memory has caused. So... here goes...


It was about 12 or 13 years ago that I went to Cali. I had been talking to a guy online for over a year and while his drug issues bothered me, his alternative view of religion and spirituality called to my soul in a way that I hadn't ever found. I was living with my aunt who told me that I was going to "hell" for listening to Enya... so when it felt like the right time, I let him buy my one way ticket to Los Angeles. I packed what I could and just left that afternoon completely excited that I was traveling to a new place to a guy that I thought for sure was going to be my soul mate. After all, we had talked for hours and hours and hours online and on the phone.

When I arrived in Cali, I was met by a very short & overweight man in his bare feet. Not at all what I had pictured because he had said that he had done some modeling. But, despite my misgivings I went with him because really what else was I supposed to do? I think he drove over 100 mph to his home that he still lives in with his mom. 8 lane highway at over 100 was a little much for me but whatever... We didn't really talk much because I was only about 19 and very shy. And, I knew I was out of my element.

I spent a week there before my best friend's sister could send me money for a plane ticket back home. We had sex a few times because I felt like I had to. Jed was stoned all the time and drunk the rest. He kept telling me to get a job... and I was so overwhelmed. One afternoon, after drinking I woke up on my stomach with my hands handcuffed behind my back and him on my back raping me anally. I screamed and cried and when he was finished he unlocked the handcuffs, laughed and said that I wanted it so I might as well shut up. When I kept crying, he told me he couldn't deal with the drama and get the hell out. After begging him to use the phone and sneaking around during the day to call my family, I was finally able to get home a few days later.

He didn't take me to the airport. Actually for the whole week, we never went anywhere except the liquor store. I couldn't leave the house... Anyway, once I got home I moved back in with my mom. I was broken. I couldn't leave the house because I was afraid he would find me. I didn't shower or do my hair or really anything except lay on the floor behind the couch as far below the windows as I could.

After a couple of weeks like this, I finally got the nerve up to leave the house. I'm not sure of the time frame, but I eventually moved in with my friend Tara and Chris. Tara is a lesbian who was an alcoholic because her family is so religious and her father is a pastor that she was sure she was going to hell for being a lesbian. But, that doesn't really matter... Anyway, we were driving one day in her jeep when I just started getting flashes of memory and started sobbing. I remembered my aunt and uncle's wedding reception at their house. I was four and my sister had just been born. My mom was running the reception so she couldn't really deal with me during that time. I wet my pants and so my dad drove me home and was going to get me a change of clothes. I remember being so scared because my mom never really let my dad be alone with me. He was very physically abusive and had tried to drown me when I was two for trying to get a drink out of the back yard hose.

I knew he was furious with me for having an accident. When we got home, he put me on my sister's changing table and proceeded to fondle me and stick his fingers in me for some time. It hurt like hell and I knew on some level that it wasn't right. I cried and cried. I looked at the pretty yellow fabrics around the room that was for my sister. He told me that I deserved what I got, that I wanted it or I wouldn't have wet my pants. When he was finished, he put a diaper on me with some powder... I remember the smell of the baby powder.

On the ride back, he was still yelling at me for embarrassing him in front of my mom's family by "pissing myself," for making him touch me, and that I better never say anything or the next time would be worse. The locks of the huge old impala in the back seat were very long next to the window and I remember touching them... knowing that I wouldn't ever get out. We got back to the party and I had to act like nothing happened. I remember our old neighbor was playing his guitar on a bar stool...

Throughout the next few years, I've had other memories of my dad watching me while I showered in our basement. He had made a shower stall out of red thick plastic in our unfinished basement. My family denies this, though... not the shower stall just that he would watch. He was always throwing me or beating me or punching me... up until he and my stepmom kicked me out at 16 because she couldn't forgive me for something or other.

I've been raped one other time but other than getting drunk and waking up over 24 hours in someone else's house naked... I have no recollection of that. I'm assuming I was drugged but I can't prove it and really... I was at a bar underage and entirely too trusting. I should have expected it.

I've never written any of this out all the way. Just the emotions behind it... I've been able to retell it with clinical accuracy by putting myself in that place in my mind where I learned a long time ago that nothing could attack me...

Thank you for seeing me and for knowing me... even when I don't.

Some of my Poetry

People

People...
Of all nationalities
Races and religions

People...
Forever searching,
Always hoping,
Never finding.

People...
Living for,
Wishing for,
Dying for...
Peace.

~Shanelle



The Crusader

Always hoping
Always loving
Never seeing the bad...
Only the good

The crusader
Save the world
Save the soul,
Every wrong ...
Can be made a right

The Crusader
A naive heart,
An optimistic soul.

The Crusader

Heart torn,
Broken,
Stepped on...
Lying on the floor.

The Crusader

Dreams lost,
Broken
and forgotten,
Lying at the door.

The Crusader

Let mankind
save itself.
I give up,
I don't care

The Crusader

~Shanelle




The Wall of Life

I walk through each day
With the mask of life in place.
No one can tell
The true emotion on my face.

Maybe someday the wall will crumble.

The mask I wear
Hides me from all.
My emotions forever
Locked behind a wall.

Maybe someday the wall will fall.

I know you try to to find
A way to free me.
But can't you see???
My wall will forever bind.

~Shanelle



Rain Forest


Darkly menacing,
Gently swaying...
Always breathing...
Forever living.

The jungle paths twist and turn
Like a living, breathing maze.
The vibrant colors are forever alive
They will grow brighter... always.

The jungle animals are forever stalking
The look in their eyes
Forever remembered...
As one of our demise.

A cry in the night
Of one lone panther...
A growl in the shadows
Of one majestic jaguar.

Deeply encompassing,
The fears surround
And leave with one forever...
The feeling of being bound.

~Shanelle

more to follow later............ i'm tired now.

Sleep is Optional Apparently

I have asked and re-asked Spirit to grant me peace tonight so that my spirit may heal and rest in it's own right. I keep getting that I need to write. I can't find my old poems to put on here so I guess I shall write about what is first on my mind... and what I can't seem to speak aloud...

I lost my virginity at age 4 to my father. I'm not sure how often he would molest me. It's one of those things that my subconscious has hidden from me. Perhaps through this writing I will remember or perhaps I will learn to accept that not remembering is a grace from Spirit. One question... if you lose your virginity at 4 doesn't that mean that you are destined to be promiscuous in your teenage and 20's? I don't know that I've ever "made love" or even believe in that. My body was always used as a tool to keep a boyfriend, get a boyfriend, or make someone else happy. So, I never truly cared if I was promiscuous by society's standards or not.

Now, after leaving a relationship that was less than wholesome for my psyche I'm forced to re-evaluate things. I asked for someone to love and accept Cheyenne like she was his own. And, I got that in Rikki. I guess that what I forgot to ask for was someone to love me as well. I thought that would just come with the "relationship" but we hadn't had sex for almost 2 1/2 years and probably only had sex a handful of times of the course of our 5 year relationship. It's one of those things that I went from a lot to none.

Of course, being female in persuasion, I opted to assume that it was my fault that he didn't want to have sex with me. Now, I'm to the point of thinking that it was my fault because I haven't been a "whole" person since I was 4... or maybe at 2 when he tried to drown me? I'm not sure when everything got all fucked up but it definitely has.

So, 7 days... 2 suicide attempts... and a depression with no light at the end of the tunnel. This is my life now. It's almost a "double life" I suppose. On one hand, I'm in school for massage therapy and I offer advice to any that ask it of me. Several ask... On the other hand, I cut and stay in my room, sleep a lot, and well be depressed.

Someone added me tonight on Facebook and said that he was always glad to meet others on the path... I don't feel like I'm on the path. Actually, I feel like I've taken a non-GPSed route off of the path that I thought I was so entrenched and in love with. Basically, I don't feel "worthy" to be on that path anymore... But, I guess I'll keep working on that.

Now that I've done some writing, I hope Spirit is satisfied and I'm able to sleep now...

Ciao~*~

Eternal Serendipity????

So, I've been encouraged to write. Good stuff, bad stuff, all stuff. I've procrastinated to the point that I've internalized my entire life. And, I wonder what advantage that has given me. Sure, I've kept my life fairly private. Only a few close friends know the "real" me... However, much has been lost in the translation of my life. And, I'm afraid the transcriptionist has left mountains of unfinished life lessons.

Serendipity is a propensity for making fortuitous discoveries while looking for something unrelated. I named this blog "Eternal Serendipity" so that I would always remember that as a child of Spirit, I have this ability to ALWAYS find the good in things along the way to a different discovery. Do I always practice this? No, unfortunately. I have dutifully chosen to live my life in the duality of humanity and spirit. The toughest part is to always find the good.

I am a "cutter." I have been for a long time. To take a blade to my skin doesn't mean a damn thing to me. People think I do it for attention or any other selfish reason. I do it for two reasons. One is so that I don't hurt anyone as much as the pain that I'm feeling and the second reason is because I don't put a lot of stock into my physical body. I don't know that I've ever had a "whole" body. Can you truly have a whole body if your sperm donor takes your virginity at the tender age of 4 and covers it up for years? All those years that I thought it was ME that was fucked up and making horrible relationship choices, I've come to realize were years and decisions that I was reenacting the scenes from my childhood. Fairly sick if you ask me.

So, here I am at the end of yet another relationship. He is a good man. However, "we" are not a good combination. A friend used the analogy that if one of us were baking soda and the other was vinegar that we do marvelous things on our own... but if you combine us you get a fairly volatile reaction. I think that is a great analogy. And, this time around, I did learn the whole "reenactment of my childhood" thing. So, hopefully if there is ever another love in my life, I will be able to catch those warning signs before five years have gone by.

I think that the parents of little girls should teach them truth, honesty, and independence... and maybe that those stupid fairy tales are just stories that are told at bedtime and never really happen. Just my opinion.

~Shanelle