
First, I want to say that this is not meant to gain accolades or prayers, likes, loves, or hugs at all. I so appreciate the support that I've received up until this point. But a friend pointed out to me last night that I needed to post about this because even if 600 people hate what I have to say, if one person's life is positively impacted by this, I have an obligation to share this story.
I have come to an awakening since September of 2023, but really almost all of 2023. So much happened in a short amount of time that was devastating. Finding my mom in horrible circumstances, losing my job after this happened, the countless moments of verbal abuse from leaders and people, the fighting that I felt like I had been doing for a lifetime, not just in my personal life, but in music, in almost every room that I walked into. Fighting for a place is not something I ever wanted to do - but always felt I had to do it, otherwise, I'd have no place. That's how I felt. When someone would say something disparaging, I would be so hurt that I would have to find a way to make it hurt that person worse just so the noise would stop. Fear is what guides almost every single choice we make that is not in our best interest. I have lived in fear my whole life - fear of losing my identity, fear of not being included, fear of not being accepted, fear of hurting people, fear of losing control, fear of not being loved, fear of being hated. I chased and ran after people, since my earliest memory, who made it a point to show that they didn't like me at all trying to convince them "see, I'm okay", ignoring the friends who wanted my company. That has been my existence. I've recently been diagnosed with CPTSD - Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder - something that happens when you have had repeated abusive and traumatic episodes in life. The longer this goes untreated, the worse your symptoms and time on earth becomes.
Last year, my mother was in a dire situation and my husband and I jumped to do everything we could to fix it. I remember when police officers came to my door in the early morning hours of September 2, I sat there thinking "Should I go try to do something? What happens if I choose not to?" I went. And it would be life changing.
In a short amount of time, my mom would be diagnosed with having suffered two strokes in the past that went untreated, high blood pressure, and high cholesterol. She had serious memory issues and was hallucinating. It was hard watching this woman of steel be so vulnerable. During this period, the job I had would go away. I could go into what happened with that, but I won't. What I can tell you is leading up until the day my job ended was not pleasant and part of the abusive behavior I had been used to allowing in my life. In hindsight, I am extremely glad that the job ended.
So many other things kept creeping in. SO many other things that were just emotionally devastating. I didn't understand why all of this was happening to me. People talked about Karma as it related to others, trying to make me feel better...but maybe what was happening to me was Karma. I started seeing that my self-esteem was really damaged. All the love I thought I had for myself hadn't really been there. I felt like what was happening was something I deserved no matter how many times people who loved me said I didn't. It felt strangely familiar. I felt my physical self deteriorating, and just prayed and prayed and prayed for God to save me and help me. And the message I kept getting was that God doesn't have to help me. He's provided all the tools - but I have to stop running from them and I have to do the work to rescue myself from drowning.
THE FIRST STEP was the relationship with my mother. We talked about everything. Things we had never talked about before. My mom apologized for so much. We cried and laughed and shared stories, some of which I recorded. During the holidays, I watched The Sound of Music with my mom...I have never seen this movie. When Climb Every Mountain played, my mom just sobbed and said to me "listen to these words. Don't ever give up." And I just cried and felt so much empathy for what she went through in her life and started focusing on all the wonderful things she is. I have felt a profound sense of peace being with her, and feeling that comfort that I longed for, but quite frankly, the best part was giving her the comfort she deserves and had longed for as well.
Within the confines of this, other relationships that are dear to my heart began to deteriorate, some by my own doing. One night, I just talked to myself about how much I was tired of fighting and decided that I was going to walk into rooms with love and resolution and that it doesn't mean love will follow me, or resolution will come, but what I do know is if I embrace it, then it won't leave me and the suffering will end. That started with my mom and has continued with so many people and I'm grateful for that.
The photo in this blog is of my sister Marty to the far left, me, my mom, and my sister Cheri. This photo was taken right before Thanksgiving in 1994, almost 30 years ago. I will never ever forget this night. I was gigging with the Eddie Butts Band at a place called Rumors in Brookfield, an immensely popular nightclub that was always rockin' with live music. Having my sisters and my mom there was so special.
My sister to the left, Marty, is someone who I've had an up-and-down relationship with, but she and I spoke almost daily until September of last year. Last year in April, she read my chapter in a book about mentoring. That chapter revealed some things that I had not spoken about to anyone in detail. My sister asked me about it in April and she asked me to be honest with her about what happened. I told her.
Afterward, she sobbed. She just sobbed and sobbed and sobbed...and apologized for not being there for me, and not protecting me. I told her it wasn't her fault, and we hugged each other. I told her we were all going through stuff at the time, and no one knew what to do. She just kept apologizing and I could feel how the pain was sitting in her heart for a long time. We told each other we loved each other and just hugged.
When my mom went into care, my sister was fearful. She wasn't angry, although her fear showed as anger. I know she was scared. I know she was scared. My last words to her were that I hoped she healed from whatever was hurting her.
This past Monday, my sister passed away. I just got a job after looking for months, and I wanted to call her to tell her I got it. But couldn't. The reality of her not being here is hitting me so hard. The reality of the things that have been shared about my involvement in her life has been so hurtful. The things that people think I said about her or to her are not true. I loved my sister a lot. I felt empathy for her and what she was going through, personally, and physically. My mother had the opportunity to hold her hand, and the next day she just cried, with Marty being the second sibling in our family who had passed.
This all brings me to the title of this blog.
I'm tired. I'm really hurting.
I'm sad.
I'm really lost.
I'm not that strong.
However...
I'm determined to figure out how to manage this new diagnosis of CPTSD. It has given me insight not just into my current circumstances, but how my life has been since my earliest memory.
I have a lot of people who have helped me through this process, strangers....
The moments of revelation that I have received by random things that have happened have been no accident.
The moments of songwriting, and poetry coming into my head as been eye-opening.
I have wanted desperately to drink and have not had one.
I have restored my relationship with my father-in-law who I love and respect dearly.
I no longer care if I'm the one making the first move. My move is better than no move at all.
I don't want to depend on the beliefs of others to manage my direction. I want to believe that I have what it takes to be fulfilled in this life. I am going to connect to this reality increasingly each day.
I am so tired of fighting and will do everything I can to avoid it...and...
My husband Mark Zolecki is a gift from God. I would not have been able to make it through these past few months without him.
I no longer want to be in spaces where my presence hurts or causes harm. I don't want to be in spaces where I suffer, or my presence causes others to suffer. I no longer want to have to fight for relevance.
With the help I'm getting, I'm realizing that just by being here. Being given a chance at life is proof of my relevance. I just have to believe it, no matter if others believe it or not. I have to know the truth. The love I carry for others, and myself. I must understand my humanity is full of flaws, but that I can recover, and I can become better, even if others don't believe it.
I'm not there yet. But I am going to be.
I want to thank every single person who has helped me see a brighter day, I want to thank Raejean Kanter for helping me clean my mother's hotel room when she went into the hospital, dropping everything she was doing to dry my tears, and help me manage that, I want to thank Valerie Benton for being so patient with me and allowing me to teach young kids music and life skills, I want to thank the students for helping me see a better day by sharing their stories of perseverance. I want to thank my friend Jay Sorgi for calling me and listening, and offering no advice, but just comfort, care, and love, and calling me his "sister by choice". I want to thank my sister Wendy for reaching out to me so many times to ask me how I am doing and showing her love by listening. I want to thank my beautiful niece Jocelyn for the space she gave me to say hello and goodbye to my sister. I want to thank Carmen and Tracy for embracing me and loving me even if for one night, at a time that I so desperately needed it. To Barbra Neumann for the many times you took my call, no matter what hour, to just hear me cry. To Susan and Amy for your texts, and for calling me. Those itty bitty check ins have meant the world to me. I am so thankful for our friendship. There are so many people whose names stay in my heart, and may not be mentioned here, not because I have forgotten, but because there are just so many that if I mention them here, this blog will never end.
And I want to thank my mother and my sister for allowing themselves to open up to me about who they are, and who I am. I want to thank them for apologizing and for allowing me to apologize. For hugging me and letting me hug them. For crying with me. For opening up old wounds so that they could finally heal. No one in this life, no matter how many stories are told, no matter how much ugliness is shared, can take away our time. No one can infiltrate the recipe of love that has ingredients that we have created. Those results cannot be changed.
One profound thing I remember hearing in a movie, A Beautiful Mind was when the doctor who suffered from mental illness was having such a challenging time connecting the dots in his own mind when he tried to go back to the school where he taught. He told his wife what a horrible time he was having and that he just couldn't get it together. He started crying and hugged her and asked “what I am supposed to do?" and he just looked so hopeless.
His wife grabbed his face and slowly whispered "You try again tomorrow. Try again tomorrow."
Tomorrow is today. Tomorrow is today.
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