Sara Ellie MacKenzie's Blog, page 12

None of Them Were Human

Ode to the West Haven, CT VA Hospital

None of Them Were Human

They walk through sunshine, through rain,

And they came home from the jungles, deserts, and forests.

There were stacks and stacks of paperwork before them.

The finish line was nowhere in sight.

None of them were human.

In the meantime, the ungrateful called them out.

Baby Killers, they said, and they threw garbage without cheer.

Shame crept in and none of it made sense in their trauma.

The tentacles of the deep pulled them under for a swim.

Because none of them were human.

It took days, weeks, months, years, to get through.

Once becoming an insider, it was unlike any underworld.

They could not trust their own eyes

The new entity that swallowed them whole.

Oh, none of them were human.

The stars were supposed to align and shine.

This was the Promised Land that was garbled about.

But those who sent soldiers to war could do nothing

For those returning to a world that pushed for normalcy.

For none of them were human…

The silent swirl of darkness kept them in the cold mud.

The only conveyer belt assembled misshapen parts

On each specimen, congratulating them on

A job well done – as if killing another soul invigorates.

But none of them were human.

It is the primal screams of a dying animal,

But they are told they are the crazy ones

It is the sugar sweetness of the nurse’s injections,

But the only person she looks after is herself.

And none of them were human.

There was no privacy, no dignity, amongst them.

Soldiers crawled until they could no longer remain stuck.

The best they felt was at the bottom of the bottle,

Smiling as they wished for a bullet to the head.

Yes, none of them were human…

The cycle repeated itself time and again.

The muddy trenches deepened without mercy.

Suddenly, there was no names and numbers.

They said that there was no humanity amongst filth.

Only none of them were human.

And here I sit…

A half-shaken stirring scream of wordless

Years of suffering and darkness

That has no meaning, no gender, no name.

None of them were human.

That was where you were mistaken.

c. 2023 Sara Ellie MacKenzie

#Excerpt 1 - Revolution

PROLOGUE

KINGDOM OF KLENARD HOT SEASON, 279

Tomorrow, I am going to die.

It was ordained by the Lord. I felt very lucky. Most people have to wait for God to collect their souls. They never knew when that moment was going to be. They might meet an unfortunate accident or a slip of the tongue might destroy them.

John Bryon-Howe, the former Duke of Shaeriden, sat nearby. He had not moved much more than an inch from the fireplace since I had arrived. A man so still and so close to death should not be wasting his time in silence. I was frightened for his sanity and hoped that he did not lose his mind in the end. He was supposed to be beheaded with me on the morn.

“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,” I began. I hoped to coax something out of him.

Yet, His Grace said nothing.

The night progressed. We could hear the workers below, sawing wood and nailing it together. Some guards called out the hour. The birds called out a lovely tune.

God granted me a beautiful last evening.

I decided that I was going to turn my mind to a night of prayer. The last of my belongings had been dispersed with long ago. Because I had been condemned as a warlock, Archbishop Gaines was going to excommunicate me before the beheading. The Lord had granted me serenity this very night. I no longer had any earthly worries, not even the prospect of being outside of Mother Church’s flock.

I crawled to my remote corner with the large pillow. A few minutes later, I felt a heavy weight beside me. Another set of lips spoke the same familiar words.

I let a smile escape.

We both stopped a little while later, but we did not move. We pretended to be praying silently. The guards were changing and the scaffold was finished. The stars were just letting up. The sun was still hours away.

“What do you think, Redeemer?” Bryon asked me. “Do you think it will be quick?”

His words startled me. It was confident, as it normally was, but his questions slightly quivered. I understood. He was going into the next unknown with me. This man, who had experienced war, betrayal, death, and politics, was asking me for reassurance.

How do I answer him? I am no priest.

It was not going to matter soon anyway. We were going to die. Whether he came to terms with it or not was something not meant for my shoulders. I did not need to additional bondage to this earth.

But I replied anyway. “I heard that the executioner was swift,” I joked. “Your Grace should be comforted to know that God will be waiting on the other side. He will heal all pain.”

Bryon shook his head with laughter. “What brought us so low, Redeemer? Why did we not see it coming? What brought us to this revolution?”

I was startled. I thought the outburst was rhetorical. Bryon was serious, though. He was of noble bearing, after all, and I was formally a small landowner. He wanted a story. It was not to while away the hours before we died. Every Klenard man needed comfort when he went into the next stage of his life. His Grace was no different.

“The new Klenard was difficult,” I offered him weakly.

He nodded, encouraging me to continue.

“But we were all comfortable under the old Queen,” I dared to add. “Like you, Lord Bryon, I was born under the happiest of decades…”

Chronically Writing: Good Days

Hi, everyone, and welcome back! For those who are coming here for the first time, salutations! I am Sara Ellie MacKenzie, local indie author and newly-diagnosed as autoimmune, with Multiple Connective Tissue Disorder. If you need more info about the disease, please click here.

Otherwise, let's talk about those good days...

Unfiltered.

Today is one of those so-called good days. The line in the meme where it says, "I think it's fine, we're good..." I feel like...

I got up without much trouble. I was able to make breakfast without starving myself until noon. Actually, everybody got breakfast. I was tired after that, but was able to do some clean-up and laundry. Right now, I am sitting here on my computer, taking a rest from that, I am typing this.

It is difficult for me because I have very limited help. My father is dead. My mother and in-laws have extreme conditions and I do not play games. Friends have moved on or have other concerns that they are focused on. Other family members are out of state or they are sick or are caretakers. We have someone dear and he comes once a week.

Many people say to pace yourself. Do what you can. Set smaller goals. And I think that is what a good day is all about. I always add that everybody's best is always different, though.

For example, I look at this picture and think: ouch. This was last night, while it was raining. My best was different then. Even though it is harder to get my rings on today (and I chose not to wear any), this is a great day.

Why?

I have come to a point where I can confidently whiz by while in pain. I can take breaks and not look at a queue of people, waiting for me to take their call. The pacing, even when I am slow, reminds me that the world still goes on. Even when I feel rushed at the store, I am realizing (also slowly) that it is me that is hurrying away, not the people behind me pushing me.

Do you know what else makes this a great day?

I could do something for my husband for once.

But that is the empath in me talking. It makes me feel happy to help others. I am learning boundaries and any trauma survivor will tell you that it is hard to keep them. Back to the good days, though...

For a few moments, I was the normal mom. The smiling mom. The happy mom. It's not that I am those every other day. I just felt it more today than most other days. That, and I love the peace. There is no space filled with yelling and snide comments.

Wet sand isn't so bad, is it?

Namaste, everyone, and have a great rest of your weekend!

#DayTwo #DontYouGetIt #IAmHereToStay #ChronicallyIll #MCTD #GoodDay #MomAndWife #SpecialNeedsMom

Chronically Writing: Trauma

Sorry about the false alarm earlier, everyone. I was about to edit this post and for some reason, it posted. It has been deleted and I had to start ALL OVER AGAIN. Thank God, I did not get further than a paragraph. Otherwise, I would have been kinda mad.

Well, if you have not noticed, the blog has a new name. For the longest time, I did not have one nor did I think one was required. But then, after reliving the horrible experiences I've had just being diagnosed with an autoimmune disorder, I wanted to share it with others.

So, I am...

I might shorten it later. For the time being, it fits. It has a lot of personal meaning to me. I think the first two words make sense - Chronically Writing is true is cliche as well as the truth. I am always thinking up stories, working out plots, and chilling in my office, writing. Wet Sand is the mystery, isn't it?

Not really. It's from a Red Hot Chili Peppers song by the same name. The metaphor (how I took it anyway) is forming under impossible situations and maturing past the trauma of our childhood and growing years. Wet sand can't help you with much unless you are able to overcome it with the tools around you. When everything is falling down around you, you have a couple of choices: stand in the storm and handle it the best way you can or you can fall apart and let the storm drown you.

So, after many years of being told one thing and then another, I have been finally diagnosed with Multiple Connective Tissue Disorder. There is info here about the disease, if you need a reference. In short, it is an autoimmune disorder which has components of several diseases, such as RA, lupus, etc. It comes with other disorders such as Raynaud's (which you can see more info about here) and Pulmonary Hypertension (which you can find out more about here). It has been debilitating and sometimes humiliating. It also puts a new perspective on everything in my life.

This is the first thing I hear. It has been told to me ever since I was young. If you all have not noticed, I am a plus sized woman. My body shape is not something I can control, although my weight has been fluctuating for many years. That is another story for another day.

That being said, when I am told to do something, I am going to do it. I am not big about asking for help. This happened when I lived with my family of origin. So, it's difficult to express my pain. Many people do not believe me when I say it because they see me perform so well. I've been told that my pain was in my head, that it's my stress, anything that did not refer to the ANA+ I received on a blood test.

When someone looks at me, they blame my weight immediately without asking me anything. They think that if I work harder, then I would lose that weight and get better. It is my fault that I am this big.

The truth is far from that. When I was younger, I was forced to constantly exercise and work on labor intensive activities. I was considered weak because of my "weight", when all I had was muscles, body shape and puberty against me. I was always told that I was unattractive, not trying enough, anything to keep me far away from the pretend goal of being thin and beautiful. To give you a hint of how far this went: I was punished for ridiculous things, like wanting to play with Barbies when a parent wanted me to watch the women's soccer game on TV.

No, I do not have diabetes. I am not at risk for stroke. I literally was given limited food and calorie counted, shamed for not liking sports and more. Honestly, I was praised in high school when I skipped breakfast and lunch (the latter at school) and only had a salad as a snack before dinner. I had a small portion for dinner and that was it. This kind of behavior went on even when I was pregnant and the few months I stayed after Calvin was born, until I left that nest. The times I was not at my place of residence, I ate whatever I wanted.

And the problem is, none of these tactics made me thin. Healthy food and regular exercise? All the way. With MCTD, I force myself to at least walk in my yard and do some chores. If I do not, I will gain weight and I have.

This is a trauma that I am still working through. It was a difficult time and one I realize now is narcissistic abuse. It is torture to question yourself and have to keep a happy face. This is something that I never want on anyone, not even my worst enemy.

At this time, I am fighting for treatment and I only have medication without refills unless I call my PCP (again). I do not want to get in to any specific details yet. For the moment, I am still processing this news. It is a relief to have a name. It is another to understand the disease on my own. Saying something now about it, after keeping it so locked up, is a weight off of my shoulders, though.

I hope all people like me read this and know that it is not their fault. It is not in your head. Keep advocating for yourself and never have someone tell you it's all wrong. This is a judgment free place!!

Because some days are going to be bad. REALLY bad. Like the "Author Confessions" post I made a few months ago. But some are also good, when you are hurting, but is is tolerable, and you are dancing. Those are the times we have to hope for.

I have decided that chronic illness is not defining me 100%. Like with trauma, I am not a victim. I am a survivor and swimming in new waters.

Yes, you do. You do matter too. Today is a good day to have a good day.

Namaste!

#ChronicallyIll #MCTD #FightingMom #NoIDontNeedHelp #Trauma #Survivor #WetSand #YouMatter #KeepGoing #IndieAuthor #NewBritain

#BehindTheScenes 37 - Chronic Illness

Wow, when did October get to be halfway over now?

It's another Thursday and we are #BehindTheScenes. Today, I am going to talk about chronic illness. This is not a generalized post. I am diagnosed and it does affect the way I write, when I do it, and how I live my life. Trauma has a lot to do with it.

I do not make it a secret that I was abused. Growing up, though, I was convinced of many things, one of them being my weight. I am not skinny, I am round. My body shape cannot be a twig and I have accepted this. However, I have learned that I can control my weight and this has led to other problems I will discuss later. Yes, this has to do with chronic illness.

Because my father had a construction accident and undiagnosed problems until the late 1990's, he was a terror. Nobody could possibly be in pain worse than him. I admit, the incident was bad. He fell two stories and hit his head on hard concrete while doing construction work. But it meant that being sick was not welcome. I had to rough it out through several illnesses and still do chores, go to school, etc.

For years, I denied my pain and pretended it did not exist. I could not possibly have a problem! But it took a nosedive a couple of years ago. When my blood tests finally came up ANA+, I felt like there were answers. I did not realize that it was only the beginning - advocating for myself, dismissive doctors, and even a hospital that triggered my trauma and they call it troublesome. All of it ended in tears (yes, emotional dysregulation is a bitch and I am still learning) and I am still pushing through.

What do you see in this selfie?

It's a common scene. I am in my office, listening to music and smiling. I am most likely writing my book. I have ideas, excited about the future. Calvin is in the other room, playing. I can hear him making noises. My husband is home, checking into something around the house. We own our house and he is always fixing something.

Besides the stress about no income, this picture was like every other day: joint pain and a migraine. One of my eyes is blurry and it is not because my Rx for my glasses is off. Every time I reach across my desk to type, the inside of my arms touch a cold surface and that is painful. The noises around the house make it worse.

But I am still working.

The reason why I keep myself so busy, work so hard, is because of my early life. Told that it was never enough and I could not possibly be that sick. I carried that throughout my professional career, even to this day. I hardly nap or take a break. Everyday, every hour, I am working. The majority of my day is being an author and I am doing this all on my own.

Please kind to those who do not have the same abilities that you do. Disabled does not mean unable. We are at a disadvantage versus people without illnesses. For more info, you can check this website out.

Namaste!

#ChronicIllness #Invisible #Invalidation #AllTestsNormal #PainAndFatigue #NoDownDays

#FindOutFriday Answers 14

Hi, everyone! Welcome to another edition to #FindOutFriday. These are the answers from Tuesday. How many did you get? Let me know in the comments. Tune in next week for #BehindTheScenes!

Enos - This is the name of the world in Wrapped in the Rays of the Sun. Enos was the name of a Biblical figure, specifically the grandson of Adam and Eve, through their on Seth. He is considered to be an ancestor of Christ and an Islamic prophet. For the series, it lines more along the Jewish faith, where man comes to a point where they found fault with their sins and found redemption. Ice Bucket Challenge - In A Circle is Broken, the characters of Catherine and Andrew fought. Once, the former poured water over the head of the latter. This came to me because of the ice bucket challenge from years ago. The scene was not meant to bring awareness. Truly, the characters were frustrated! Ancient Carthage - In Through the Meadow, the characters of Miranda and Julia settle on the western shores of the kingdom of Cherls. In the year 277, their village was attacked by the enemy. The multiple offensives by Mother Church was an echo of the Punic Wars. Ancient Carthage and Rome fought three times. The audacity reminded me of both sides and the struggle to keep lands from invasion.

Namaste, everyone! Have a great weekend!

#ItsFriday #TriviaAnswers #History #Geography #ALS #IndieAuthor

Didn't You Know?!

I am a busy person. I have a nonprofit that aims to help indie authors. Info is updated often on this website. Of course, how can I forget that I am an author too? Don't forget to support #IndieAuthors!

#IndieAuthor #BooksSeries #NonProfit #VocalForLocal #NewBritain

#BehindTheScenes 36 - Being a Mom

Hi, everyone! It's Thursday again and we are #BehindTheScenes. Today, I want to talk about being a mom. You can call me a working mom, but I do not like that title. We have working parents everywhere (nonbinary, male, female, etc.), so you can't just pick on women.

Well, I will begin by saying that I work from home and have since 2020. The pandemic initially forced my call center job to be moved to my office. I worked there until late 2021, went on leave, and quit the job in April 2022. This meant that I was with my son, Calvin.

I am going to say this once: we have very little support. Growing and maturing meant that I shed those who do not help me. I do not mean financial help, I mean emotional. Being a trauma survivor used to have me searching for validation from everyone. Now, I have learned to cope with doing it myself and being grateful to receive any assistance.

Saying that, I was young when Calvin was born (not a teen, early twenties). When he was not even five months old, I left my parents' home and moved to Maine with my husband. We returned to CT a few years later to find that we had nobody to call on. A lot of the detraction is that our son is autistic, which is a shame.

Calvin is a smart and empathetic young man. My mother said he was not a difficult baby, and he was not. With the autism, though, we ran into some snags (which I am sure many special needs parents can relate to). As a young mom, all I had was the horrible example my parents had. Thankfully, it did not get too far.

When you are used to being the person who serves, you don't think of yourself. My mind is always on Calvin. What is going to help him? Have I taught him valuable lessons? Imparted better examples of how to be a better person, to communicate clearly, and to ask for help? Have I allowed him to be himself and not an idea of what I want him to be?

Yes, I did the usual stupid things before Calvin was born. I never thought of them since. It was such a short time and so long ago that I forgot, for a long time, what it was like to be a person. As Calvin has grown, though, he is learning who he is...and so am I.

Growing up with your kid sucks, everyone.

Namaste!

#WifeAndMom #GrowingUp #TraumaSurvivor #LearningMom #GenerationalTrauma #ItStopsWithMe

Welcome, Everyone!

Hi, everyone! It's been a bit since I last posted a good welcome post. For everyone who has been here for a bit, you don't need to read this, unless you want reminders. To those who have not...this is what you are in for.

My name is Sara MacKenzie. I am a self-published author who lives in the state of Connecticut, in the US. I am married, with a special needs son and two cats. I also have four published books on Amazon. A fifth will be available next year.

What are my books about, you ask? Well, the first, A World So Bright and Dark, was an attempt to explain trauma in an unkind world, through the eyes of a young girl writing in her journal. The next three books are part of an epic fantasy adventure series, Wrapped in the Rays of the Sun. The story is narrated by several character, who recount their experiences in the world of Enos. There is civil war, world war, theocracy and more in those pages. Sometimes, I use personal experience.

I have made it well known that I am a trauma survivor. I have been down some very dark roads. When I was younger, I thought I was alone. I tried to be the person who cared about everyone, helped everyone, kindest person last. These days, I am understanding better boundaries and that not everyone needs my help. I will still do the best I can.

Black Lives Matter here. LGBTQ+ are always welcome. I do not care who you are, just as long as you are not hurting anyone (here is looking at you, gun owners). As long as there is NO HATE, I am ok with different opinions, like tariffs and taxes. Human rights are NOT up for debate.

In the course of being a full time author, I have learned that there is no such thing as happily ever after all the time. We run through good and bad times and we have to learn how to stand with it. In the human experience, we undergo the same emotions - anger, despair, happiness, ecstasy - and no skin color and ethnicity can separate that.

In my books, I try the best I can to touch upon many topics - abortion, racism, religion, greed, and more. Through their beliefs, my characters reflect some of our history, geography, etc. They have old hostilities, old scores to settle, and they cannot let it go. Sometimes, they grow from it or they relearn the lesson, sometimes to an extreme. And those supposed happily ever after endings? They become hard work to keep steady.

My social media links are all over the website. You can watch for updates, funnies, and more there. Sometimes, I have things up here on the blog, like trivia and excerpts from the next book. Keep your eyes peeled!

And always remember: be kind.

Namaste!

#WelcomeAboard #IndieAuthor #NoHateHere #CurrentEvents #History #Geography #Inspiration #FromRealLife

#FindOutFriday Answers 13

Hey, everyone! Here are the answers from Tuesday. Which ones did you guess correctly? Which ones did you get confused on? Let me know in the comments!

Lord Bryon - The inspiration for the name and character of Miranda came from this man. No, not the weird sexual manners. It was the adventure, growth and traveling that made Miranda close to this namesake. And a companion for pleasure, but that is another story. Fortune tellers - They've been around for centuries and either seemed as a festival favorite or as witchcraft. In Casting Shadows, the characters of Catherine and Nora visit one at a celebration of Nora's mother. She predicted the future of the pair. In this series, I make them more mysterious and leave it to the reader to decide fraud or reality. Falkland Islands - The inspiration of the land of Stepnick. Some of the pictures show penguins on the shoreline, with mountains. Sometimes, it looks inhabitable. That is how I imagined Stepnick, except darker and colder.

Until next time, everyone...namaste! Have a great weekend!

#TriviaTime #Inspiration #Geography #History #InRealLife