Growing up, i sometimes thought the world was my enemy.
That wasn’t wrong. But I realized it’s what I was given in the world, that treated my life as a coin being thrown into the air.
Except when I fell…I came down as rain.
Freezing cold rain.
The kind that only gets warmth when it hits the ground to sink into soil.
Being little, I locked down all the bad and gave justice to the good.
My parents, they split when I was little.
My mom was an addict.
My dad was an addict and an alcoholic.
The two things that should not combine did.
My father was in and out of jail: for his aggressive behavior while drinking.
For a while I would wish, as a little girl, that he could stay out of the never ending line of bars.
That faded and regained.
Because I witnessed him hurt people I love.
I would say he traveled the world, but all he did was sit with blank walls and pictures of his reality.
I lived with my mom until I faced sights I never knew I could witness at my age:
For a while, I never hit the ground.
Instead I stayed in a place where my feet could never move without a hold of survival.
Always outside, stuck, and absolutely drowning. I remember walking back and forth In one place sobbing for god to get me out.
I have never told anyone that.
But I made it out.
My aunt and uncle took me and my siblings in.
I felt safe.
But now,
I take on a version of me that wasn’t welcomed or accepted in my mind.
It came sudden.
I didn’t unleash this on purpose.
It flooded within me and said we could move on together.
That wasn’t a good idea.
Depression took over the girl who could go to school with no problems and still say she hated it as a joke.
I flooded my seat on the bus with tears very often during the week.
Being in a new school and trying to learn my way as someone new—was rough.
Not just because it was new, but because I was in the middle of one of the hardest times I could think of.
I was always in my head.
Still am.
So I take on writing to explore my way out.
It wasn’t just the writing that took me out,
It was a saying I’ll never forget:
I once told someone nothing felt real.
And instead of them telling me to look around and get out of my head…they just said quietly, “Wake up Sarah.”
It took me a second to process.
It was like a punch in the gut that threw a glimpse of the girl that wanted out.
I couldn’t say anything except
“I don’t know how.” And “I wish I could”
And yet they had repeated,
“Wake up Sarah.” With every single push back I gave…they just repeated.
Carrying that after, felt like they were telling me to wake up out of something they know nothing of.
It felt like more than anything.
Because I felt like I wasn’t enough.
“Why Sarah?”
Because if I was enough then maybe my parents would have acted like I was.
Because I didn’t want to live in a place that is considered a somewhere—I wanted a place that was called a nowhere.
That’s what I called the Healing Cage.
“Why Sarah?”
Because i thought that if I’m in this idea of “somewhere” then more can be taken from me.
I was terrified (still am) of more things getting taken from me.
So my idea of “The Healing Cage”
Was just one step to helping me enter my Healing Stage.
So, the thing that helped me get unstuck?
Was knowing that there was someone to say “Wake Up Sarah” when I needed to see a glimpse of the girl who is still waiting to get out.
Was knowing that the moment of staring at the sky not knowing who I was talking to with tears—that I made it out.
Was seeing how much of an improvement my parents have made.
Was seeing how people I knew came together to help me.
Was seeing how I came out my darkest moment and made a book.
And was knowing that the little girl who needs a hand out still needs me to fight.
And I’ll hold onto her for as long as I can get.
And that…is what is helping me get unstuck.

- Sarah Redwine