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here there is peace.


Because I faced my dragons… the world is suddenly alight.

The sky is bluer. The grass is greener. The wind is a reminder. The earth is my foundation. The sky is my imagination.


Hard times come. Hard emotions too. But I continue to learn to allow them to pass through me.

I feel the inner child crying in the confusion of the new.

I feel the twangs of timeworn negative patterns whispering into my mind, asking to return and be given control.

But I’ve been to the depths. I know my monsters. I know what the deep holds. I no longer fear what is under the water.


Instead, my head and my heart are turned upward to the sky.

I quiet my soul and I listen.

O my soul, sing to me.

What do you say? What do you sing?

I am listening. I am here.

And here there is peace.


 

Hello World,

Long time no talk.


I’ve come to my journal and this computer multiple times in the past two months. However, a voice inside always whispered; “not yet”. But today I awoke, and the sadness was settled into my bones. The familiar ache was pulsing the energy in painful swirls around my body. And I knew the time had come.

Writing releases. Speaking the truth releases. So here I am. Here is my truth. Here is my heart.


For those that may be new to this story, a brief recount:


I am a survivor of childhood sexual abuse. It happened around the age of three. My mind, in a beautiful effort to protect me repressed these memories for 24 years. My body however, kept the score.


The last 10 months have been an epic voyage of painful healing. Through therapy, meditation, yoga, other’s love, and God, I have come to a place of acceptance. I proudly call myself a survivor. I’ve faced the memories, I’ve faced the dragons, I’ve faced my monster.


On March 14th, I got on a plane to Ireland for the next step of this healing adventure called life.


There. Now you’re caught up with everyone else. That is my story. This is my song.



 



I’ve been in Laragh, Ireland for the past month and a half. There have been moments of intense joy. There have been moments of intense sorrow.


As for what I’ve learned so far?


To hold these moments within the vessel of your body, your mind, and your spirit; to hold the pain, to feel the sun, to release the pain, and to lose the sun only to find it within your next shadow…that is what being alive is.


And alive is the gift I am given each day I wake up. So, I’ve taken that gift and run with it.


For those back home, here is a brief lowdown of my life here in the valley of St. Kevin.


When I first arrived, I spent my days hiking, meditating, and learning to trust the moment. I felt the weight of my actions from the first weekend I was here. It is hard to be the outsider. It is hard to be across an ocean from those you love. It is just damn hard to move.


I’ve been so grateful for the lessons healing from trauma have taught me as they have kept me going on the tougher days. The first three weeks were spent comforting my inner child who was terrified of the world around her. The smells were new. The tastes were unfamiliar. The POLLEN was/is deadly. (Seriously though, my allergies are UPSET about all these new plants).


But I have not been alone. My “Irish mom” helped me get medication when I wasn’t feeling well. I’ve been offered rides when I’m at a loss of how to get somewhere. A community has risen around me and offered me compassion in the day to day of struggles. I am grateful to each person who has offered a helping hand; it is a kindness that can never and will never be forgotten.


My day to day is spent working in the local pub and my free time is spent with people who have swiftly become lifelong friends. I go on walks to help reset my mind. I meditate by the river at least once a week. I drink pints after long days of work. I drag my tired ass to bed after long serving shifts. I eat strawberry ice cream in the kitchen with co-workers who have become friends. I watch Rick and Morty at night to unwind. Life, albeit unfamiliar is slowly becoming “normal”.


I still have flashbacks. PTSD is still something I walk with every day as I navigate the abuses of my past. Sometimes I have panic attacks. Sometimes they happen in front of others. It is in these moments that I have been trying to remember that healing is NOT linear. It ebbs and it flows. Some days are good. Some days are bad.


There are days that I forget the strength inside of me. I feel weak when it’s a bad PTSD day. I feel broken when flashbacks leave me gasping on a floor.


In those moments, my inner voice or my outer friends remind me; I am not weak. I have never been weak. Each time life has knocked me down to the ground, I have chosen to get up.


I came across a picture of three-year-old Kasey the other day. I cried. My body shook a bit. But while I looked at that picture all I could think was, “she’s a warrior”. Child Kasey endured what should never be endured. And it is so easy for me to be proud of her.


So why is it so hard for me to be proud of the Adult Kasey? When I rise from the floor after panic attacks, why do I do so in shame? When I wake up to sad emotions, why do I become angry at myself? Why is self-hatred the first thought in the bad moments?


Trauma teaches you shame; and a lifetime of shaming yourself is a difficult thing to re-write.


But re-write it I will.


So…


Dear Adult Kasey,


I am so proud of you. You have done so well. You choose to get up, and that is strength. You had the courage to cross an ocean. You have battled flashback after flashback, and you still CHOOSE to continue the healing process. You are not weak. You are one of the strongest people I know. So, the next time a flashback, homesickness, or even unknown sadness brings you to your knees…. I will sit with you while you cry. And I will always be proud of you when you choose to get up.


Sincerely,

Me


 

The past couple of months have been a whirlwind. I’m sure the next few will continue to be so.


But the future is bright y’all. The past is being processed. And I am living in the present. It’s a beautiful life, and I am free.


As for the future? I try to plan less now. These past 10 months have taught me that life will happen regardless of the plans you made. However, I have begun to set my steps on the next new path.


I’ve been accepted into Queen’s University in Belfast, Northern Ireland for my Masters in Psychological Science. I’ve accepted the offer and God-willing, I will start this fall.


Life is weird. It is always moving forward, and I am flowing with it. I am healing with it. I am living it.



Be proud of yourself.

Every time you choose to get up, remember that falling is not weakness.

You are courageous; we are strong…


And the monsters will never win.


Until next time friends. <3





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1 Comment


Brian A Grandison
Brian A Grandison
May 05, 2022

This is great news. All of it, the ups and downs. Glad to hear you were accepted into the University and will get your degree. Glad to know you're still writing, when you can. And most of all, healing. Sending love from MN to Ireland.


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