Soundtrack to Our Life: Wounded
And you used to speak so easy
Now you're afraid to talk to me
It's like walking with the wounded
Carrying that weight way too far
The concrete pulled you down so hard
Out there with the wounded
“And you used to speak so easy, now you’re afraid to talk to me; it’s like walking with the wounded. Carrying that weight way too far, the concrete pulled you down so hard, out there with the wounded. We’re missing you.”
Wounded is the song that forever changed me and made me the crazed Third Eye Blind fan I am today.
In 1997, I found out my oldest daughter (age 13) was currently, and had been, being molested by my husband, her step-father.
I was 35 years old at the time and had never experienced any type of child abuse or knew of any, especially sexual child abuse. Once she told me, I immediately left the house with her and my 3-year-old daughter I shared with my then husband.
When something major happens in my life, I immediately turn to my mom, my rock.My girls and I went to her house and tried to figure out what the next move should be. I’ll try to fast forward through the details, but within 24-hours from the time I found out - my husband was in jail, which is exactly where I wanted him to be. Within a week, he was served divorce papers. This shit was no joke to me. My priority in life is my children and you don’t touch or hurt my child – period. He was dead to me, but unfortunately he wasn’t and I had to go through divorce court and criminal court to sever the ties with him and see him punished for his incredibly insane actions. He took a plea the day they were selecting the jury and it was 14 years, mandatory he serve 85% of the time. This was acceptable to me because by the time he got out nobody could make our daughter see him. Personally, a life sentence would be more acceptable, but the judge wouldn’t give it, even though I did ask. My daughter was given a life sentence, so it would be fair he be given one, too. Guess not.
This period of life was all about survival – protect my children and provide for them. No time to have fun, no time to go out with friends, this is serious shit right now. Finally divorced and he was in prison. Maybe I could breathe now. Nope his parents sued for grandparent rights even though the grandfather was a child abuser; he had beat his wife and children as they were growing up and during the course of getting my ex-husband arrested, it came out he had sexually abused his ex. So fuck – the fight is back on. Finally after many mediations, psychologist visits, and court appointed visits they finally rule that it would be up to my daughter’s psychologist and she had already written a letter stating no. This was all two years later.
It had been two years of carrying that weight way too far; the concrete pulled me down so hard. I was driving by myself one night and listening to Blue, I had just purchased it because I loved “Never Let You Go”. I had already seen them in concert and liked Third Eye Blind a lot more. While driving, I hear these words coming out: “...the guy who put his hands on you has got nothing to do with me and the bruises that you feel will heal and I hope you come around because we’re missing you.” I think to myself, what did I just hear? Start over. Again, those words and I keep listening. I play it again, again, again and again. I’m bawling at this point because I’m so tired of missing myself. Of course my friends miss me because fuck, I miss me. Where did that funny lady go? Where did that woman go that embraced life and her friends? I missed her so much. I played this song over and over until I knew every single word and was screaming the lyrics and fist pumping and backing those bullies to the back of the bus. I was just walking with the wounded now – I had battle scars, but I could shake that ass again, nobody took my pride away. I was back and it felt great. The lyrics to Wounded just saved me from a numbness and darkness I didn’t even realize I was in at the time. My survival mode was so strong I didn’t know anything was wrong with me. But everything was wrong, I had lost my joy, my hope, and looking forward to the next day instead of it being another day I had to just get through with everybody intact.
I truly was walking with the wounded because I was wounded, my daughters were wounded, and all the people that came forth with their stories of how this had happened to them as a child. It pained me to hear that their mother didn’t listen nor did anyone believe them. I believed them, and I hugged them and told them how sorry I was that had happened. The thought that there were mothers out there that didn’t protect their children sickened me, but now I walk with those wounded.
Last year, I asked Stephan Jenkins to write “walking with the wounded” for me and it’s still a tattoo I hope to get on my foot one day. It will be done when the time is right. Maybe this year because Third Eye Blind and I have something in common; a journey we started twenty years ago that has brought so much experience, growth, heartache, love and stamina. We will rock on for twenty more.
Thank you Third Eye Blind, I will forever love you for giving me back my life.