Taking Back My Voice

Taking Back My Voice

When I was in high school I wanted to be a famous singer. I did everything I could to make that dream come true. I took voice lessons, I was in every kind of choir I could join, I did solos at our schools talent show and won first place two years in a row. I worked hard.

When it was time to apply for college I only wanted to go to one place; Berkelee College of Music.

And so I did.

When I found out I had been accepted to Berkelee I was ecstatic! I felt like I was going exactly where I needed to go and doing exactly what I needed to do. All my hard work paid off.

Arriving in Boston was exciting and scary. All my life I lived in little Berlin Connecticut. My exposure to the city, any city, was almost nonexistent. I did my best to adjust, though, making new friends and going to my classes. All the while there was a storm brewing inside of me but I didn't realize it until it was too late.

It started with my dreams. I would wake up in a cold sweat, in a strange place, with people I had only just met. I wasn't home. But I guess I had to leave home in order to begin to process what had happened to me. Of course, I didn't want to face it and I couldn't tell any one about it. I felt totally alone, confused, scared, hurt, overlooked, & abandoned. I didn't want to face the truth.

The truth is, I was molested.

Not much else could have more successfully derailed me. And it did. I began to sleep more and more. As much as I could. Not because I wanted to dream, but because I wanted to not be awake. I didn't want to feel any of the things I was feeling. I didn't want to remember any of the things I was remembering. I worked hard to forget, but I couldn't. The only thing my mind would not reveal is who the perpetrator was. I wanted it all to go away, but it wouldn't. I started struggling in my classes because I couldn't focus, which wasn't like me. I was an excellent student and I always gave my all to anything that had to do with music. But I was failing at this. My big break, my chance to do what I always wanted to do, my dream come true was crashing. I was sinking deeper and deeper into depression with no lifeline.

I tried everything I could think of to make me feel better. Sex, drugs, shopping. None of it helped. All of it created a bigger problem in my life, exacerbating my already deep depression. I sunk deeper. The means by which to "fix" my problems made it worse than it already was. Smoking pot affected my voice. Shopping racked up credit card debit, a card that wasn't in my name, & that was for essentials and emergencies only. And having sex got me pregnant. Did I love the person whose baby it was? Yes. As complicated as our relationship was, I did love him to the best of my ability. Unfortunately, at the time, my ability to love someone else was so skewed and distorted because my ability to love myself was the same. He was good to me. It felt so strange. It scared me so much that I couldn't get over it. I was young, only 19. I had an abortion.

That was it for me.

I was failing at my life's dream. For the first time in my life I realized that I had been molested as a girl, over the span of five years. My friends didn't recognize me anymore. My family disowned me. And I gave up on myself.

My family would not come pick me up at the end of the semester. I had no place else to go, so the guy I was dating at my summer job before college, came to get me. Things got worse before they got better. I attempted suicide three times. He was there through it all. And although he had asked me to marry him, our relationship didn't last. I was still in such a bad place, and at the time on way too much antidepressant medication. I was no semblance of Sarah.

(I'll be skimming over quite a bit of what happened after that just because I will cover those things in detail another time. And if I got into it all now this would be a book not a blog post.)

Once he left I met my abusive ex-husband. After years of not singing because I felt like a failure, I tried to join a choir. After a few practices he strangled me. When it was over he said, "Let's see if you can sing now." 

I couldn't.

That is the worst it's ever been for me. I know I could have died on several occasions. There were times I wished he had killed me. At least I wouldn't hurt so wretchedly any more.

But I lived.

And here I am. I worked very hard in counseling to process a lot of my past. Four weeks ago I went to a hypnotist to figure out who molested me. Now I know.

Through it all, for better or worse, I had my voice. Glorified. Praised. Beautiful. Stifled. Fearful. Oppressed. Stolen.

Whatever it was, whatever it is, I have taken it back.

My voice is mine now. It will always be mine. Weather singing solos or in a choir, screaming for help, or telling my story, this is my voice. I will use it as much as I can to help people, to teach people, to comfort people & to inspire people. These things that I've been through are not who I am, they're just part of my journey. I am not perfect, but I know I am strong. I'm still here, after all. I know I have something to say that can change people's lives. And so I will. Because I still can.

Sarah Speaks Up.

As always, thank you for reading.

Love & Light

The Day My World Turned Upside Down

August 5, 2013

The day my world turned upside down.

Shock. Loss. Grief. Despair.

Grief. Not only a word, but a process.

I don't know why I thought she was going to be Okay. Maybe it was the fact that throughout my entire life she was the strongest person I had ever known. Or it could've been the fact that I assumed my needing her so badly would keep her here. She fought the cancer. She was in remission. The fight was long and hard, and I admired her for never giving up. In the end, it wasn't the cancer that took her. She died suddenly of congestive heart failure. She was on a business trip. To this day it bothers me that she died alone in a hotel room at the casino. She always hated the air in those rooms. She said it was so recycled and stuffy. No matter what they tried to do they couldn't take the cigarette smell out.

Nancy Alice Spitko

Nancy was my aunt, but she was so much more like a mother to me. She paid for my dance classes, taught me how to write school papers, brought me school clothes shopping...really, she was an example of the kind of person that I wanted to be. As dysfunctional and convoluted as my childhood was, she was constant. I could always count on her. She was there for me no matter what. She was my rock. Not only did she help me get out of my abusive marriage, but she helped me stay out by giving me and my daughter a place to live that was safe and supportive. We didn't need to go into a shelter because of her. As if that weren't enough, she picked up the other parent role in my daughters life. When I needed help or someone to watch my daughter she was always there. She would do the same things for my daughter that she used to do for me. When she died, my world turned upside down. More than two years later, on Wednesday, August 26, I will begin the conscious work of turning it right side up again.

Two years later, I wasn't exactly looking for a wake up call. I didn't need to be blindsided by the fact that I still had a lot of grieving to do. After experiencing some very traumatic events as a young girl, I had become extremely adept at convincing myself that I was more OK than I really was. In fact it was almost involuntary. Put on your blinders and carry-on. The world doesn't stop for my feelings. And then the Facebook posts began. One of my best friends from childhood, Nathan, had just experienced a loss of his own. His cousin had died in a tragic accident.

August 13, 2015

Tyler Bresnahan.

Tyler was 20 years old when he fell to his death. He was 6'5" and in amazing shape. He worked as a lifeguard. He was making a movie about pushing past limits. He would film himself swimming under the water, cliff jumping and other types of thrill seeking activities. His father died in a house fire when Tyler was 18. Being that his mother has MS, after his fathers sudden death, he followed in his father's footsteps, taking care of her to the best of his ability. Tyler was a dreamer who planned on seeing those dreams through. He was interested in becoming an EMT and also wanted to go to film school. It's safe to say that Tyler was an amazing person. He loved to push the boundaries of what most people would do. Hearing about him made me realize the yin and yang of his personality. He was a dreamer who loved excitement and fun, trying to share his stunts with the world through film, but he was sole to the Earth, in his desire to help people as a lifeguard, steadfast caretaker, and desire to be an EMT. He loved excitement and living life to the fullest, but he was grounded by a profound love for his family and dedication to his mother. Tyler died too soon at the age of 20. All the people who loved him, family and friends, their  lives will never be the same.

My blog is about the healing process. About what I have to do, steps I have to take, to heal my heart and soul of the pain I have experienced in my life. Grief is my most hated part of that process. I have no control of it. I don't know when it will sweep over me like a dark cloud bringing sudden thunder and rain. Or when it will hit me at the most inopportune time, like in the store or on an important phone call or during a meeting, that I feel like I want to cry and scream and crawl out of my skin. There is no one for me to bargain with. Neither God nor the universe has been willing to negotiate with me thus far. I miss Nancy. I want her back. I can't have that.

Yet, here I am reminded of all the things I learned from her. About who I want to be and how I want to live, or don't want to live. I've been able to meld the lessons I learned by her example, and my own wants and desires, into a beautiful mosaic of my life vision. The truth is, as cliché as it may sound, that these people leave their footprints in our lives and on our hearts. That can never be taken away. The gifts they've given are more than just these lessons. The gifts they give are themselves. We are all entwined. Our lives are not singular. Our influence goes further than just our own reflection. The same footprints those people who we have lost, have left on our lives, are the same prints our own feet are leaving. We have the real true opportunity to affect every single living being we come in contact with, during the entire span of our lives. 

In Nancy's memory, I move forward. Not because I would be stagnant if she were still here, but because in her absence I think it's important to be an example of the strength that I learned. Because I've literally got bigger shoes to fill than I was made to. But much like Nancy taught me, and much like Tyler showed us, we are capable of so much more than what we think we were made to do.

To the Bresnahan, Selwyn, & Brouillette families, I am truly deeply sorry for your loss. If you are moved to help the family with burial expenses please visit their gofundme page at

http://www.gofundme.com/pfbws37s

Putting The Pieces Back Together

Putting The Pieces Back Together

Maybe it’s just me. Right? Maybe everyone else has it together and I’m the only one who is struggling, drained, exhausted, burnt out & overwhelmed; stretched in too many different directions.

I’m sure that’s it. I’m alone in my zombie walk from my car after doing a job that hasn’t fed my soul in years, with my arms too full of stuff to bring inside. Of course, I get all existential with it, and equate the stuff I'm carrying into my house to the emotional baggage I carry with me every day. Because that's how I roll. Pile it on! There can’t be more people who feel this way. Like trying to hold a dry sand castle in my hands with nothing but the fingers they were provided.

My healing journey starts here. In this place. Here is where I say, “I need to fix this. This isn’t the way I want my life to be.” My healing starts in this mess of puzzle pieces. At least I can say that I love the pieces I’ve created for myself. There was a time when even the pieces; my house, my friends, my interests, my partner (specifically my ex-husband), even my clothes were not what I wanted them to be. That’s a tough place to be. OR it’s a beautiful place to be. A potential blank slate. It’s the opportunity to look at life and say, “NO. None of this works for me.”

By seeing all the things I didn’t want, I was able to check them off the list of possibilities.  No, having no friends because I wasn’t allowed to, didn’t work for me. Check! No, living in a crappy apartment in a scary neighborhood with crazy neighbors didn’t work for me. Check! No, being ridiculed for reading books and wanting to sing in a choir didn’t work for me. Check! No, wearing far too baggy clothes to hide my body and try to please my ex-husband didn’t work for me. Check! And no, my ex himself, in all his violent manipulative degrading splendor, most certainly did NOT work for me. Check!

Look at all that work!

Knowing what you don’t want is the path to finding out what you do want. Our experiences, our failures, teach us if we let them. I’ve been known to be a repeat mistake maker. You know, because I’m thorough and I love learning. J

So, yes, I have some bad zombie days. Yes, I make mistakes (repeatedly). Yes, I’m staring at a pile of beautiful Life puzzle pieces waiting to be put together. I’m also staring at a pile of laundry and paperwork. (I’m sure I’m the only one with those things too.) I get frustrated. I lose focus. BUT…that’s ok. I forgive me. I’m not perfect…yet. Ok, ok. I’ll never be perfect. My goal is not perfection. My goal is to be happily me & to make that happiness utterly contagious. If you don't have it already, I hope you catch it!

A special thanks to all my friends and supporters who shared my blog link!!! In no particular order: Bridget Cooper, Kimberly Chabot, Dawn Plante, Rita MacRae, Kim Montana Grace & Josh Raymond. Thank you to my mom, Carol Spitko and my sisters Michelle Leone & Andrea Agostinucci. And a VERY special thanks to Joe Day for helping me set the whole thing up. I am grateful for all of you. I couldn’t have done it without you guys…I mean that about more than just the blog. (If I missed anyone, please let me know.)

Thanks for reading.

As always,

Love & Light

My healing Journey…

My healing Journey…

It’s funny. I thought I had my thoughts together.  Throughout the day I’m like, “Totally blogging about that!” (Yes, all you organizers, I have several idea pads now. They tell me to “be brilliant”, so I have no choice but to step my game up.) As I sit down on my swinging banana chair on my back deck, I feel the pressure of the first blog post. (Cue menacing piano music.) It’s the one that is supposed to make me interesting to people so that they’ll keep reading what I write. The truth is, I’m just a normal person who, like most people, has been hurt by the actions of others and by the decisions I have made for myself. It can turn into a spiral. One hurt begets another, begets another until you’re swimming in hurt soup without a spoon.

Emotional pain is a universal human experience. Different people get to different depths than others. Some people are convinced that nobody else could possibly understand or have felt what they’re feeling. Some people get stuck, get lost in the victim mentality. Some people get so used to pain that they create more of it for themselves even after the initial cause has been eradicated, because they feel that’s all they’ll ever know or deserve. Some people hurt so badly that they become hopeless, in the real sense of the word. They give up. I’m here to share with you that I’ve been every one of those people at one time in my life or another.

Now, here’s the hope (cue choirs of angels and bright beams of light). I’m not any of those versions of me any more. Do I ever feel sad? Yes. Of course! I’m still human after all. But what I’ve been able to do is pick myself up, brush myself off, and keep trying at happiness & peace of mind. I’ve found that the key for me is never giving up, trying new things, staying as positive as I can, exercising (don’t knock it, it helps), broadening my horizon, changing the people I’m surrounded with…and continuing to change them until I get it right, caring about myself, relaxing (or trying…it’s hard…I’m pretty busy), making goals: big ones and small ones, talking to people, stepping out of my comfort zone, helping others, and the most important job I’ll ever have, being the best mom I can be.

This blog is devoted to sharing my healing journey. Whatever twists and turns it may take; the good, the bad, and the ugly. I hope it will help someone. I’ve seen the domino effect of saving one person from pain and despair. I see it every day when I look at my daughter.

Thanks for reading.

As always,

Love & Light