I love falling asleep to the sound of rain, its smell, summer showers, and forehead kisses.
I love books that I can’t put down, warm, crispy towels off the line, and finding quotes that describe my current situation.
I love seeing my favorite bands live, the boom of thunder; and lightning that lights up the sky.
Continue reading I Love
“You are such a selfish person Kerri, truly pathetic, I don’t have time for this shit!”
That’s what my mother said to me the day I attempted suicide. Continue reading The Day I Attempted Suicide
Wordless, this photograph has sat framed, in my home, my entire life. No matter where I have lived, I’ve kept it close, hearing its horrifying screams daily, silently grasping for me, bellowing out all the words that you see from the well of my deepest despair. Words boldly wrestling within my soul, clawing out those tiny eyes, like rusted barbed wire, embracing me, bludgeoning me, shredding all that was left of my vanquished tortured being. Continue reading The Essence of a Little Girls Loneliness and Pain
I am often asked why I don’t associate with my birth mother, my brother, and two of my half-brothers. The conversations all start with, “How is your…?” To which I reply, “I’m not really sure, I haven’t seen them or talked to them in years”. Then I am asked “Why?” To keep it simple, I just say that we took different paths in life, which sums it up in a nutshell, but that never seems to be an acceptable answer, because as soon as it’s said, the interrogation begins. At this point, I usually just say that the house I grew up in was abusive so I walked away, so I wouldn’t become a product of that environment. I am then told, in so many words, that it’s sinful and wrong that I’ve cut off ties with my family; that it doesn’t matter that they were or are abusive to me, the proper thing to do is be patient and tolerant of their sins.
Continue reading Toxic Family Members > God says “Walk Away”
Many years ago, I met this guy named Alan. He was everything I’d ever dreamed a man to be.
I had just moved 856 miles away from my family, escaping 13 years of sexual abuse. I was 22 years old, standing alone, raw and lost to say the least. Love was not something I ever knew, it was something I’d never been shown. I was stifling years of pain, staring down scars, scars embedded in my soul. Continue reading HIDDEN AMONGST THE RUBBLE