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Since K is the letter of the day, I decided to make this a raw post about me and what makes me tick. We'll start with the name.

When I was a kid, I didn't even know my real name. I had a nickname born of the idea that I was slow. In all reality, in today's world, that little girl I used to be would have been diagnosed with autism and jacked up on a smorgasbord of meds. So, thanks Mom and Dad for being what people would term as "neglectful" today because you used tough love before there was a name for it. That's the happy version.

On the other side of things is the abuse. My dad honestly has no idea how far this went...and he never will because I could never look him in the eye and tell him all that happened. And no, he doesn't read my blog.

But this abuse...there is no angle that wasn't covered. Seriously. And when I became an adult I ended up in an abusive relationship. A broken jaw, dislocated fingers, punctured ear drum...well you get the picture.

Now, normally I don't think about these things unless I'm trying to help someone else heal from abuse. Then I have to dig back and empathize because that's what works the best. But lately, Facebook has been really putting it out there.

The other day I saw a picture of a woman with a black eye. It was a re-post thing to show that you were against domestic violence. I seriously hate those things. Really? I need to re-post a gruesome pic to let you know I don't think it's okay? No thanks. But that pic was in my mind all day. Finally, at the end of the night before my shower, I saw another pic that just about pushed me over the edge.

It was an accident on 30, the same road that my mother and grandmother died on. A semi hit a car, just like what happened with my mom and grandmother. That was it. Those pictures and the days events...well I needed to step away.

When I took my shower, so many places hurt. My arms and legs are bruised and my foot is cut. It's from working on the house by myself. But those images in my mind and the bruises on my body. I'm not gonna lie. I cried. A lot.

I'm the one that blends with the walls. I'm not pretty, yet I'm not ugly. I have a quiet voice, but I talk a lot. I live in my own mind most of the time and that pretty much sums up who I have always been.

My name is Katharine Lorraine and of all my father's children, I'm the one with the name that has no meaning. Lots of times, that pretty much sums up who I am. But please don't feel bad for me or even put sympathetic comments here. Every detail of our lives is put together to create who we are. I needed what I lived through to be who I am. I have a strong personality. A sugar coated life would have made me a different person altogether, probably someone that the me right now wouldn't like very much.

9 comments:

  1. I think your name has TONS of meaning. I think it means that you aren't connected to the people who dished out the abuse and those who failed to protect you from it. I think it sets you apart and in this case, I think that's a very good thing.

  1. Never in my life did I think of it like that. Thanks for the new perspective.

  1. I always hated, as a parent, knowing that no matter how much I taught my sons there would be lessons I could not teach them. Those lessons would come from other so called human creatures with no real heart. The penchant for cruelty is not a new thing, but I often wondered if the ones who weilded it so well were victims themselves at some point. Few people are strong enough to survive what you have endured and still feel compassion. You have had my respect for some time, and it only grows stronger.

  1. Thank you Thomas. Your respect actually means quite a bit to me, whether you realize it or not. I think we all have a choice to make concerning whether or not we perpetuate a cycle. But, to end it you have to be exposed to the tools to do so. I am fortunate in that my experiences led me to the best friends I ever had and they taught me about this thing called love.

  1. Kathy, I am enjoying getting to know you and learning a great deal about how abuse can and thank God does, sometimes stop and leave in it's wake a stronger, more gentle human. Not a broken and abusive reactor.
    You show us your gentle, loving side in these blogs and also your keen view of things we cannot otherwise understand.
    Thank you for becoming part of my blogging world in such a unique and educational way. ♥

  1. Thank you Jo. This side of me is kind of the side that no one (or very few) in real life sees. The woman behind the curtain so to speak :)

  1. i've never thought about a name having no meaning... you've deepened my well of thought....thanks for sharing...

  1. I see the courage you have and recognize the painful place it grows from. Those reminders hit us and we are never prepared for them but can see that you have found ways of moving past them. You may have a quiet voice, but it's a strong and compassionate one. Thank you for sharing this piece of yourself today.

  1. Your strength shines through in your writing. I know you don't want sympathy, but I'm so sorry about your mom and your grandmother.

    You are a survivor and your life has a purpose!

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