Lori Cardille, actress, relates the impact of surfacing memories of her childhood abuse that could not be held back any longer. A poingnant account delivered with humor, this book hopes to offer compassion for others who are surviving.
In the starring role of 'Sarah' in George Romero's 1985 classic "Day of the Dead", Lori Cardille played the first strong female lead I had ever seen in a horror movie, or any movie I had watched, for that matter, in my all of 9 years of life.
The main reason I will always love that movie is because of her inspiring portrayal of the strong-willed woman who was smart, independent and could totally kick some zombie ass when needed. As such, she became one of my very first heroes. And one that I drew a lot of strength from.
Aside from the hero worship of the Sarah character, I also found myself feeling curiously connected to the woman who had portrayed her.
I really didn't know why at the time. I obviously had no idea about what was to unfold in Lori Cardille's life after that point in her career.
But later down the road, after Miss Cardille imparted her personal triumphs that ultimately revealed having survived years of horrific childhood sexual abuse, and the paths she took to try and live a "normal" life as a survivor, in hindsight, maybe the connection was felt because, when ‘Day’ debuted, some of her young admirers already found themselves as survivors as well.
So when I learned as an adult that she had penned this autobiography, though unsure what to expect, I tentatively picked this book up and discovered just how Lori Cardille became a hero.
I learned that at the time she filmed "Day", she was actually an inadvertent hero, playing a character that was in opposition to who she felt she was inside. Though being an accidental hero to me back then, she is now decidely a person greatly admired as she stands strong and sets out to be an example of hope.
In her strive to encourage other survivors of childhood sexual abuse to be bold and learn to celebrate life, to appreciate healing, which also includes encouraging herself, Lori Cardille is one of the best examples of 'what doesn't kill you, makes you stronger' as she proves herself to be unbelievably brave and capable of living life to the fullest.
I don't know what it would be like for someone to read this book who has never experienced something similar to that type of agonizing endurance, the spirit-crushing emotional and physical abuse that a child is helpless to defend against, but my hope is that if you are reading Lori's story to get a better understanding and to support someone you care about who is trying to work through the pains and madness that come with that kind of survival (which can be a lifetime's ordeal) is that in truly appreciating Lori's story you realise that there IS hope for all who have suffered the kinds of abuse that she has. Lori proves that.
What you will read here are the inner thoughts of victims of abuse. Phrases like “tsunami of memory” and “my ghosts of Erie past” are what I can only call sufferer-speak - that is, the poetry of victims who have lived on after their sacrifice, even if they don't have the right interface anymore.
Her book is not really about exposing to the world the great evils kept behind closed doors, we all know there are monsters among us, but essentially this book is an instrument to helping fellow survivors.
"I'm Gonna Tell" is about being in victim state of healing, it's a validation, in an almost songlike reverie, which is not at all unlike the actual process of going through life in recovery.
I absolutely respect Cardille for her own character, for her bravery, for her talents and for being able to have had a fulfilling life, for being a great caregiver - for being capable. Lori's genuine passion to want others to keep moving on is clearly to teach that strength in yourself, such as she has demonstrated with her story, and as far and difficult as that may be to reach within yourself, can guide you to authentic happiness in life.
You will struggle and you may have to fight everyday for it, but she reminds you that it can be done, that there's things to be grateful for, that it's worth it, and for that I candidly thank her. She became a hero, afterall.