My Favorite Heartache

My Favorite Heartache 

You were the needle 
And I was the thread 
Stitched up the pieces
I once considered dead. 

A tingling sensation 
That started at my toes 
Twinkled with sparkles
Straight up to my nose. 

A quite charming man
Who wiped away my tears
Turned my words into poetry
And chased away my fears.  

Crumbling the walls 
I had built from trust 
What was once a barrier
Became particles of dust. 

Drowned in the empathy 
With your caring ways 
You added the sunshine 
To my rain soaked days. 

You came into my life
And I was never the same 
The cards I’ve been dealt
And a cruel dating game. 

One day you were there
And the next you were gone
Like seeds to a garden
Where no flowers stay long.

I’ll dig up our memories
Every once in a while
When my days get rough
And I need myself a smile.

Remembering the pain
A bad habit I try to break
But my memory of you
Is my favorite heartache.

Written by Catherine Mellen

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Wishing you and all members of my website a fabulous Friday and a wonderful weekend ahead ♡ 


A Christmas Gift

What is a Christmas gift to you? From my Christmas in Poetry Land Collection, here is… A Christmas Gift

A Christmas gift for me
If I had to choose
My own created family
I hope I never lose.

I don’t want a necklace
Or things made of gold
Items will never replace
Gifts you can not hold.

Don’t wrap me a present
No gifts in a bag or box
I don’t need the air pleasant
By mood soothing rocks.

Once were the days, in stories often told
Of gift giving ways, in a world gone old.
Give me a visit, show me some love
The holiday isn’t, a sale priced glove.
Cost no money, just a big heart
No traffic, no lines, no shopping cart.

A Christmas gift for me
Is all laughter and smiles
They come absolutely free
Memories made in piles.

It’s not sold in stores
No accompanying shelves
Giving loud morning snores
For the overworked elves.

If I have to choose
I hope you catch my drift
A family I’ll never lose
Is the best Christmas Gift.

Written by Catherine Mellen ♡

Also please remember Toys 4 Tots, Salvation Army, the homeless, the elderly and our Veterans this and every holiday season… 🎄Peace and blessings to you and yours 🎄

I Talk To Angels

For our loved ones above, because even on Christmas Day… 

           I Talk To Angels 

If I had a wish, one that would come true
I’d wish for one more Christmas, just to be with you.

I’d tell you all about the times, I was left alone & cried
Close my eyes, I talk to you, until my tears are dried.
I’d tell you how I miss the way, your quirky little smile
Close my eyes, I talk to you, I know its been awhile.

If I had a wish, one that I want the most
Maybe a Christmas photo, for a social media post.

I’d tell you how it feels, to miss you to the core
Close my eyes, I talk to you, if only for once more.
I’d tell you of days ago and of Christmas past
Close my eyes, I talk to you, hoping it will last.

If I had one wish, one that is on my mind
I’d make my wish for you, a Christmas miracle kind.

I’d tell you how I dream, of days when you were here
Close my eyes, I talk to you, please don’t disappear.
I’d tell you how I begged, days I wished you stayed 
Close my eyes, I talk to you, everyday I prayed. 

If I had a wish, with just one destination 
I’d wish for one more Christmas with your visitation.

I’d tell you I’m glad you’re here, please don’t go away
Close my eyes, I talk to you, even on Christmas Day.

Written by Catherine Mellen 

Wishing everyone a joyous holiday week ahead.   Peace and Blessings to you all ♡ 

This poem is from my Christmas in Poetry Land Book: 



Do You Santa?

From my Christmas in Poetry Land Book, here is Do You Santa?

Dear Santa

If I behave and rules I abide
On Christmas Eve, can I go for a ride?

It’s been my dream, since I was a kid
But climbing the roof I always slid.
I saw you one time, under the tree
Afraid I ran, so you didn’t notice me.
I don’t want a doll made for a girl
I want to ride your sleigh all over the world.
I don’t want a game made for a boy
A ride on Christmas Eve, is what I’d enjoy.
I’d take a ride, over all of my gifts
I want to be in it, when Santa’s sleigh lifts.
Up off the roofs, to the home next door
Riding Santa’s sleigh, so much to explore.
I can be a helper, reindeer I can guide
If only I could get a Christmas Eve ride.
I wrote you this letter and made it a poem
Sent it with love to your North Pole home.
When it arrives, please respond fast
A Christmas Eve ride, finally at last.

Do you give rides Santa, on Christmas Eve?
Cause if you do, I’m all ready to leave.



The Hardest Books I’ll Ever Write

They broke every inch of her being until the day she fought back.

The hardest books I’ll ever write… 

Part One 1975-1982:
Part Two 1982-2019:

Next release: Understanding Childhood Trauma, Do You Understand It Now? Coming in Spring 2023. 

Follow me on social media for updates of new releases, poetry, blog post and more…

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Thank you for stopping by, your host and friend… Catherine Mellen aka Irishgirl692 ♡ 

No One Seems To Stay

No One Seems To Stay 

Her collection began quite young
Of her loves along the way
Never really knowing
Why no one seems to stay.

It started with her family
Though most she barely knew
She tucked them in her heart
Despite what she’d been through.

Sometimes she would question
What she did that was so wrong
It was hard understanding
Being part of a family you don’t belong.

Her questions went unanswered
And remain to this very day
Still, she often wonders
Why no one seems to stay.

She formed a lot of friendships
Many which she holds dear
Some lasting a lifetime
While some would just disappear.

She remembers those who cared
And those who made her smile
Happy scattered memories
She’s collected all the while.

Often they remind her
Of cards she’s dealt to play
Just another scenario
Why no one seems to stay.

A few went off to Heaven
And they play a big part
Of the huge pile of love
She has resting in her heart.

Though heartaches often came
She found the positive in each
Blessed for the experience
And the lessons they did teach.

She keeps her collection close
In the hopes that some day
One may love her just enough
To make them want to stay.

​Written by Catherine Mellen 

Jack’s Display

Tis the weekend to decorate for Christmas, just make sure you plug in them lights or at least learn from Jack 🧑‍🎄 From my 2023 release of Christmas (Stories) in Poetry Land…

  🎄Jack’s Display🎄

Old man Jack had a knack
For displaying Christmas lights
Evey year, he would cheer
“Time to hang the holiday brights.” 

He was excited, a bit delighted
To decorate the front yard
Up a tree, around the chimney
For Jack, it wasn’t that hard. 

Lined in rows, wrapped in bows
And some were hung on a hook
Sounds of awe, at what they saw
When neighbors stopped to look. 

He made an Elf sitting on a shelf
And Santa flying in a sleigh
There was a star, a rusty car
And some reindeers eating hay.

Shapes and sizes, a few surprises
Jack couldn’t wait to flip the switch
There was no spark, it remained dark
A bulb must be causing the glitch. 

One by one, until he was done
Jack check which light was out
He was sure, he checked them before
But the darkness made him have doubt. 

Caused by a bug or maybe the plug
Jack’s patience was wearing thin
He realized after, with much laughter
The lights were never plugged in. 

Now so bright, he lights the night
In celebration of Christmas day
A spectacular view, for me and you
From the lights in Jack’s display . 

Written by Catherine Mellen  ♡ 

Christmas in Poetry Land

Book Link From Amazon: This delightful collection of poems makes a perfect companion for the holiday season. The magic of Christmas comes to life and welcomes the reader into the North Pole, Bethlehem and Santa’s village. Including a mixture of the Mistletoe curse, lazy elves, anti-bullying Rudolph, an ugly sweater party, a Santa sleigh ride […]

Christmas in Poetry Land

Thank You

Thank You

A home that lacked love
I had nowhere to turn
That suddenly changed
With your cause of concern.

You did not scare me
Your approach was kind
A child afraid to go home
Didn’t sit well in your mind.

That call you made
Caused them both to fear
Of what did I say
And what did you hear?

During the summer
When I wasn’t around
You continued to ask
To them, you were a hound.

You are my savior
For all that you did
You saved a child
From the acts they hid.

So much abuse
I once had to cope
Your act of kindness
Gave me reason to hope.

Dedicated to Honoria: Thank You for saving me ♡

This poem is from my Survivor’s Mind: When Childhood Trauma and Poetry Collide book.   A brief history of this poem is that it is dedicated to Honoria, the woman whose home I ran to that Saturday morning back in 1981.  I was eleven years old and more scared than a camper in a Friday the 13th movie.  A few months later, she knew by calling the police that I would be returned to my birth mother’s home and gave me the choice of living with them and being a kid.   Not knowing the horrifying torture I suffered through, but also knowing something was not right, she allowed me to stay in her home.  Her kindness that summer, is what molded me into the person I am today. Forty-one years ago today, I was a sad, damaged and confused kid living with another family and I have been forever thankful ever since.  

Never forget the things that made you feel. 

Wishing you and yours a wonderful Thanksgiving holiday.

Your friend and host Catherine Mellen aka Irishgirl692

Corey’s Walk

I took a walk under the stars last night and it reminded me of an inspiring poetic short story I wrote called… Corey’s Walk  ( I hope you enjoy it) 

             Corey’s Walk

This is a story, about a boy named Corey
And very long walk he took
It was cold, but he was bold
Like pages written in a book.

He planned ahead, in order to spread
Peace and love to all
He walked real slow, in the snow
So he wouldn’t slip and fall.

He made a sign out of pine
‘Please join me if you will’
Before he knew, the line had grew
A spectacular winter thrill.

As they walked, the people talked
“Where is it that we are going?”
Corey replied, with great pride
“To the bright star that is glowing.”

Every night, it shines so bright
You can see it near and far
Every day we kneel and pray
To the brightest northern star

That is where, we get to share
A miracle for all mankind
Corey said, “It’s just ahead,
Peace and love, you’ll find.”

No one moved at what Corey proved
They just shouted out in laughter
“It is way too high, up in the sky,
For any one of us to go after.”

It made the young lad, a little sad
That he could not reach the star
They told Corey, not to worry
He was still their superstar.

They sang a song, it wasn’t long
Until Corey looked all around
He knew right then, his search did end
Peace and love was found.

He took a chance and now they dance
Throughout the whole neighborhood
But still so high, way up in the sky
 He’d reach for a star if he could.

Written by Catherine Mellen aka Irishgirl692 

Wishing everyone an inspiring day full of peace, love and bright stars. 

The Cards I’ve Been Dealt

It started so young
What else could I do
Spending my days
Just surviving through.

My first shuffle of tears
Blanketed my emotions
Palets of burning stains
A stand-still of motions.

Unanswered questions
And the feelings I felt
Not really knowing
The cards I’ve been dealt.

My next round of tears
Was when I was older
A bitter winters draft
As emptiness grows colder.

A diamond, a spade
The clubs and the heart
The cards in my life
Have sure played their part.

A swelling of the eyes
The waves crashing in
Reminiscing the days
Of happiness within.

A stinging sensation
An unrequited pain
A waterfall of memories
Falling down like rain.

I find the positive
In all my heartaches
It keeps me smiling
While my heart breaks.

No matter the pain,
Throughout the years
The cards I’ve been dealt
They fall from my tears.

Only Beautiful Remains

The pieces of a broken heart
Are thick shards of glass
Each holding the memory
Of a time that has since pass.

A few carry the laughter
That life sometimes brings
A smile, a chuckle, a hug
And a million little other things.

Some carry an aroma
Of beautiful scented flowers
Reminders of the serenity
Captivated solace in the hours.

The hurt is buried deep
The weight of its pile gains
Inside its rigid pieces
Is where only beautiful remains.

There’s a piece full of love
And pieces that carries joy
There’s one always hidden
For it’s a broken hearts decoy.

One piece is full of hope
Like a well-wishes dream
Collecting the teardrops
When things aren’t what they seem.

Inside each of these pieces
Implanted perfect scenes
Shadowing around the hurt
Carving through the in-betweens.

Through all of life’s obstacles
And its heartbreaking pains
The pieces of a broken heart
Is where only beautiful remains.

Written by Catherine Mellen  

A Witches Brew

             A Witches Brew

That time of year to give a scare
To the children in the neighborhood
Tasty little critters, will get the jitters
When I’m cooking them over wood.

Cast iron pot, will be real hot
And ready for a delicious stew
It is a feast, to say the least
An all day simmered brew.

A tisket a tasket, a girl in a basket
And a little boy for some flavor
Throw them in, and then begin
A delightful taste to savor.

A daffodil or Lily, a dash of powdered chili
A bit of seasoning for taste
One child’s coat, an ear from a goat
Leave nothing left for waste.

A splitter, a splatter, mix-up the batter
Don’t you want some pie?
A crust to make, then off to bake
Set the temperature on high.

Hands, toes and a tiny nose
Sure will make a tasty treat.
Pie and stew will take a few
Before they are ready to eat.

Back to the yard, it won’t be hard
To scare the children some more
Collect them all, small and tall
There are recipes to explore.

Safe in jars or behind bars
We keep a charming crew
What we eat off the street
Is a delicious witches brew.

​Written by Catherine Mellen aka Irishgirl692 

I hope you enjoyed my Halloween Poetry and I wish you all a wonderful Halloween weekend.   Stay safe and creepy 👻  See you in November 🍁



I walked away
The very day
Our friendship had ended
I didn’t know
How it would go
I guess I just pretended. 

He turned my days
Into warming rays
His friendship was so true
The wandering eyes
Were no surprise
I just wish I never knew. 

I didn’t belong
So I moved along
To forget him the best I could
Emotions tired
A heart rewired
Letting go, I knew I should. 

I played the part
Of an unbroken heart
So no one would ever know
Years gone by
I don’t know why
My heart just won’t let go. 

Memories kept
Tears I have wept
For a guy I meant nothing to
The feel of his touch
I miss it so much
And he has not a clue. 

Written by Catherine Mellen 

So Much More

So Much More ♡ 

I looked in his eyes
And the things I saw
Exploding emotions
So precious and raw.

I didn’t know I’d fall
It caught me off guard
I tried to ignore it
But it was just too hard.

How could I have known
It would happen to me?
I should have seen
There was a possibility.

I didn’t know
That my heart could
Or even it would
Or why it should.

A one sided love
It happens to a few
Born with experience
It’s all I ever knew.

The questions linger
Answering is tough
Relationship material
Why am I not enough?

Touching my soul
Like sounds of a song
Harmony so perfect
Where did it go wrong?

This is my love story
Where did it begin?
He was so much more
But I was just a fling. 

Written by Catherine Mellen

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Peace and Blessings to all ❤️ 

The Bad Witch

The Bad Witch 

There is no room, on her broom
For any extra passengers 
Taking flight, every night 
For street cleaning scavengers. 

Not too clean, she’s really mean 
And will take away your things 
With a verse, inflicts a curse
And a deadly spell it brings. 

Moving slow, being a crow 
Or did she turn you to stone? 
Locked in a cave, being a slave 
Or freeze dried to the bone.  

Maybe a rabbit, an old habit 
The bad witch always makes 
Turned to dust, or maybe rust
Like particles of floating flakes. 

Treat her badly, she will gladly 
Turn you into a bat. 
Push her more, then you score 
A hundred years as a cat. 

Try to be nice, there is a price
As she buries you in a ditch 
Kills your soul and plays the role
Of the one and only bad witch. 

Written by Catherine Mellen aka Irishgirl692 

My Bookshelf Heart

My Bookshelf Heart 

Her heart is a bookcase
Filled with books to read
Some are written with love
While others still do bleed.

Pages filled with her poetry
Written in blood, sweat and tears
You can almost feel her words
And some of her darkest fears.

Some are inked in footprints
While some leave behind a stain
Telling about her struggles
And her excruciating pain.

One tells of a friendship
Through tears she often wept
Giving a reason to believe
In a promise that was kept.

There’s pages for the guy
Who broke her heart in two
And how she holds it together
With her paper and some glue.

Each person has a line
And some even a chapter
Her favorite books of all
Are the ones filled with laughter.

Some books she’ll never read
And leave them to collect dust
For they are written words
Of the names she can not trust.

She holds her books tightly
Like those she loves the most
For each book on this shelf
Was written by the host.

Written by Catherine Mellen aka Irishgirl692 

Do I Tell Him

Do I Tell Him

Do I tell him,
The truth I feel
Comfort in knowing
A friendship is real.

Do I tell him,
The warmth I felt
In his arms
I’d so easily melt.

Would my words
Even matter at all
Tripped my emotions
I stumble and fall.

Do I tell him,
He’s still the part
Tightly wrapped
Tucked in my heart.

Do I tell him,
I long for his touch
Or the simple fact
I miss him so much.

Butterfly flutters
Trembling scared
What if my words
Are all he had feared.

Do I tell him,
He’s still on my mind
A friendship like ours
Not too easy to find.

Do I tell him,
Or not say a word
Rumors do spread
And maybe he heard.

Sacred little memories
I filled to the rim
Written in words
Afraid to tell him.

Written by Catherine Mellen aka Irishgirl692

A Strangers Hero

A Strangers Hero 

An act of terrorism
A foreign man’s will.
What he did, the day
The world stood still.

No act of evil
Could ever compare.
As we heard the news
Terrorism was here.

The planes had crashed
So many lives lost.
Their souls not forgotten
No matter the cost.

Strangers came together
And friendships were bound.
Assuring families
Loved ones would be found.

As days went by
It just got worse.
But hearts of strangers
Was our only source.

Believing in faith
And through God’s will.
We all came together
The day the world stood still.

Written by Catherine Mellen

#911 #NeverForget #September11th

The American Dream

The American Dream

Struggling to make ends meet
Happens on every street
Barely enough to get by
Unpaid bills and funds run dry.

American Dream, where did it go?
Was it a lie, for the world to know?
Stress piles high, demand is too much
The American Dream, I just can’t touch.

Rent is due, kids need clothes
Shopping for bargains is how it goes
American Dream, is what I was told
But rarely do I see it actually unfold.

Homeless and Mental Health
Security from the Commonwealth
Jobless rate and disability
A loss beyond our ability.

I look out the window of the American Dream
Thinking it was a lie or so it does seem
American Dream, where are you now?
Were you a lie we all believed in some how?

I’ll close my eyes and dream of my home
An American myth, I ponder alone.

Written by Catherine Mellen aka Irishgirl692

Wishing everyone a fabulous Friday and a wonderful Labor Day weekend ahead. 

Shattering My Silence

I was not my abusers first victim, nor was I his last, but I may very well be the only surviving one.

What is buried inside the cellar wall of my childhood home? Who is the monstrous predator my birth mother harbored? How cruel can one family be?  Child rape, torture, cruelty and a lifetime trail of unsolved murders…

Going to the police: A ton of strength.
Telling my story: A lot of courage.
Being the voice an abused child needs: Priceless 🖤

Some Family Secrets Were Meant To Be Told.

Part One 1975-1982:
Part Two 1982-2019;

Thank You Jesus

Inspiration comes in so many forms; how lucky you are when you find them all ♡

          Thank You Jesus 

Help me Jesus, I’m writing a song
A music sheet, where words belong.

There is no rush, take your time
Making our words into a rhyme.
Beautiful sounds for all to hear
Echoing in halls far and near.

Help me Jesus, it needs to be heard
Give ‘peace a chance’ into a word.

A rhythm, a sound, a single prayer
Serenity in words for all to hear.
A hand, support, a strangers smile
Contagious with kindness in a single file.

Help me Jesus, the world seems so cold
So many promises are yet to be told.

Clean up the streets, rid the world of hate
For the children of tomorrow, it’s not too late.
Give ‘peace a chance’ and keep it going
Kindness and smiles will continue flowing

Thank You Jesus, I know you can hear
Together we made, this song a prayer.

Written by Catherine Mellen aka Irishgirl692

We are not Statistics, we are Survivors

A graphic in-depth detail of the horrifying reality, I live everyday.

We are not a statistics, we are a survivors.   Child rape, torture, family secrets, unsolved murders, strength, courage and one woman’s determination to be heard… 
My forty-four year journey from victim, to statistic, to survivor: 

What did detectives find in the cellar of my childhood home?  When will all things buried, finally come out? 

Part One 1975-1982:
Part Two 1982-2019;

Blue Bird, Black Bird

Blue Bird, Black Bird 

Walking the streets
Through roads so narrow
Looking for a love
Like a Blue Jay and a Sparrow.

How do I find or put into words
A love complete, like a swarm of birds?

Resting on a wing, so much to discuss
The flight is pure, with a layer of trust.

Blue Bird, Black Bird
Where you be?
Which one is you?
And which one is me?

Nesting down, a love anew
Serenity sounds of morning dew.

On the wire, of flying herds
A love complete, like a swarm of birds.

Walking the streets
Along the cupids arrow
Looking for a love
Like a Blue Jay and a Sparrow.

This poem is from my 2023 release American Dream: Words of a Poet.  

My Social Media, Books and Author links are provided below.   Give me a follow, hello, I’d love to hear from you. 

My Social Media Accounts…

My Author Accounts…

My Books…

A Childhood Tragedy Under A Mother’s Watch: Part One 1975-1982…

A Life Given To Me: Part Two 1982-2019….

Survivor’s Mind: When Childhood Trauma and Poetry Collide…

Christmas in Poetry Land…

Coming in Spring 2023… Understanding Childhood Trauma, Do You Understand It Now? 

Thank you for being a part of my journey on this crazy thing we call life. 

Your host and friend, Catherine Mellen aka Irishgirl692 

My Story

Every family has secrets, but what happens when you are the secret? What is buried in the cellar wall of my childhood home? Who is the monstrous predator my birth mother harbored? How long can family secrets stay buried?

I am not proud this is my story and shame on those who made it my story, but I am proud I survived.  The horrifying truth behind child rape, torture and one girl’s forty-four year journey from victim, to statistic, to survivor. 

Part One 1975-1982:

Part Two 1982-2019:

Poetically Told:
#shocking #mustread #truecrime #truestory

Never underestimate the power of a silenced voice that speaks…. Coming in Spring 2023, Understanding Childhood Trauma, Do You Understand It Now? 

Be sure to follow me on all my social media accounts, I would love to hear from you ❤️

My Social Media Accounts… 

My Author Accounts…

August Book Cover Contest

Happy August Friends.  I am in the AllAuthor cover of the month book contest.  

Could I bother a few seconds of your time for a vote?

No application to fill out, no ID required, no last known address needed.  Just a click on link and push button for a vote… please?

Shame, Secrets and Silence: Finally Told

They broke every inch of her being until the day she fought back…

‘I’m hurt but I’m not cruel. I feel pain but I still love. I am nothing like my birth mother but I am everything she wasn’t.’

My forty-four year journey from Victim, to Statistic, to Survivor is now an open book for the world to read.

Part One 1975-1982:
Part Two 1982-2019:

Shattered Heart Pieces

Love will remain in your heart, long after it lived in your life. From my upcoming release, Words of a Poet, here is…

         Shattered Heart Pieces 

I carry the weight of a shattered heart
Society said, ‘Move on,’ so I played the part.

Accepting the way of my situation 
Scattered emotions in duration.

Busting in words afraid to speak
An eagle’s soar like the courage I seek.

Way above the mountain 
As high as they come
Shattered heart pieces
In earths mighty kingdom.

Where do they go, tiny pieces of pain?
Where do they stay, if they must remain?

I carried the weight of a shattered heart
Reality said, ‘Stay strong,’ so I played the part.

Accepting support as a donation 
Scattered emotions and explanation.

Speaking my truth so I am heard
An eagle’s soar with each new word. 

Way above the mountain 
As high as they come
Shattered heart pieces 
In earths mighty kingdom.

Where do they go, tiny pieces of my heart?
Where do they stay, if we never do part?

Thank you for reading me. Peace and Blessings to all from your host & friend, Catherine Mellen aka Irishgirl692

My Memoir: An Open Book For The World To Read

No parents, no siblings, no home… What happened to the twelve-year-old girl left standing on a sidewalk?  What did detectives find in the cellar of her childhood home?  How long can family secrets stay buried? Who is the monstrous predator her birth mother harbored?

Repressed memories, a trail of unsolved murders and one girl’s desperation to be heard…

Part One 1975-1982:
Part Two 1982-2019:
#shocking #mustread #truecrime #truestory #memoir

A Life Given To Me #memoir

Book Link TRIGGER WARNINGS! Do not read this post if you trigger. From Amazon: Catherine was twelve years old standing on a sidewalk with a duffle bag of clothes as she looked at the home behind her. Its front door closed as the family behind it continued to lived their lives. A family she was […]

A Life Given To Me #memoir

From Victim, to Statistic, to Survivor… A Forty-four Year Journey

Below is the introduction to the first page of my handwritten journal…. A journal I started as a young twenty-year-old who had just reconnected with the three siblings & birth mother, I tried so hard to belong too.  Society had a motto about family back then…. ‘Forgive, Forget, Respect and You Only Get One.’  But that it not true, some things are unforgivable, we don’t forget, respect is earned not expected and as for family, I’ve been taken in by so many, my family tree is a damn forest ❤   I am still in awe, that I did it, but I did, I f*cking did it…. My two-part memoir is now an open book for the world to read. 

Part One 1975-1982
Part Two 1982-2019

Words From My Journal:

I’m about to fill these pages, with words of A Life Given To Me
From start to finish, if time will let it be.
Some things I’ll write, will be hard to understand
Like how I lived through it, without the help of a mother’s hand.
It’ll be about the monster, who left me with scars beyond my control.
It’ll be about the guy who showed me love, and why I’ll never let him go.
It’ll be about days, some, I did get to choose,
It’ll be about the family, I hope I never lose.
It’ll be about how people, take life for granted day by day
Without ever a regret, on what it is, they should really say.
I’ll only write, what I saw through my own eyes
Not one word I write, will be filled with lies.
I’m only writing this, so the people I love, will see
Why you should take every day of life, seriously.
Cause sometimes, you say things that make a heart ache
Forever those words stay in a heart that breaks.
So, as you read these words of A Life Given To Me,
Don’t think I dwell on my past.
It’s just that people seem to always take life for granted,
Memories, good or bad, no matter what, they always last.

Thank you for reading me. Stay safe, stand up, speak up and shatter the silence on childhood trauma and family secrets.

Your friend and host, Catherine Mellen aka Irishgirl692

Memorial Day

And when he gets to Heaven, Saint Peter he will tell…
“Just another Soldier reporting Sir, I’ve served my time in hell”

They came, they saw, they fought a war…
We cried, we learned, we pray forever more.

We Don’t Know Them, But We Owe Them.

#MemorialDay #memorialdayweekend   Wishing everyone a safe and grateful weekend ⚘

Once Upon A Staircase

Going from victim, to statistic, to survivor may have taken nearly 40 years to get too… but I have no more unanswered questions, doubt, shame, secrets or silence to carry anymore.  From my book Survivor’s Mind, here is a poem that describes myself going from a hand written book to a published two-part memoir… 

Once upon a staircase
A giant step I made
Looking up to struggles
Down a waterfall cascade.

Another step is taken
A giant leap I take
All the different stages
With every step I make.

Once upon a staircase
Another step I took
Growing through the pages
Of a written journal book.

Inked in footprints
Left behind by stain
If I keep going
Only a few steps remain. 

Once upon a staircase
I looked up the last time
A cascade of courage
In taking the last climb.

I took the final steps
A fear I had to face
I finally got there
Once upon a staircase.

Wishing everyone a fabulous Friday and a wonderful weekend ahead 🦋  

Part Two of my memoir will be out in just a few weeks.  Part One is now available…
#mustread #shocking #truecrime 

Finally Being Told

Today I recieved appreciation from and my publisher informing me that part 2 of my memoir is being formatted today.

Forty-four years of shame, secrets and silence… Finally Being Told.

Part Two 1982-2019 coming in a few weeks.

 Part One 1975-1982 is now available….
Wishing everyone a marvelous Monday ahead 🌻

Be sure to check out my social media and author websites

My Social Media Accounts…

My Author Accounts…

My Books…

A Childhood Tragedy Under A Mother’s Watch: Part One 1975-1982…

A Life Given To Me: Part Two 1982-2019 will be available in June 2022

Survivor’s Mind: When Childhood Trauma and Poetry Collide…

Christmas in Poetry Land…

All my love, your host & friend, Catherine Mellen aka Irishgirl692 🍀

A Birth Mother

I may not have had a mother, but I was blessed with love from so many other moms… That it made not having that one mom, so much better knowing I was blessed with so much more.

I’m hurt but I’m not cruel. I feel pain but I still love. I am nothing like my birth mother but I am everything she wasn’t.

       A Birth Mother 

How can a mother not even bother
A child is being abused?
Her cruel words came in chords
Always left me confused. 

Life would derail if he went to jail
So his secret she kept
All the abuse was an excuse
Her reasoning to accept. 

Her nasty ways shamed my days
Her hands stayed out of reach.
Ignored my cries, she told her lies
No lessons did she teach.

With every attack protection did lack
It was like she didn’t care
Lasting results, broken adults
A childhood left in despair.

Losing the count of the amount
Children she did not raise
Being none other than a birth mother
Are words I’ll always praise.

I Never Thought…

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. From a twenty-seven year career as a cook to a published Author, Poet & Blogger… Let your beauty shine bright and never allow anyone to dim your sparkle.

I lived nearly three decades under the clouds of shame, secrets and silence.   At age fifteen, I attempted to walk into my hometown police department.   At age forty-eight, I completed that walk.  The stepping stones I used to build the strength, courage and determination to tell my story and my forty-four year journey from victim, to statistic, to survivor is told in my two-part memoir.  

I never thought I’d tell my story.  I never thought I’d finish that walk.  Never give up on your dreams, because they won’t give up on you. 

The horrifying truth behind child rape, torture, family secrets and the monstrous predator my birth mother harbored…

A Childhood Tragedy Under A Mother’s Watch: Part One 1975-1982 Lowell Massachusetts is available now

My childhood tragedy was over, but the emotional, mental and psychological abuse from my own family, was only beginning…

A Life Given To Me: Part Two 1982-2019 Lowell Massachusetts 

Coming in June 

My Social Media Accounts…

My Author Accounts…

Never Forget The Things That Make You Feel Real

Isn’t it funny??  My body fought for me, my self being and my self worth for many years.  I No longer live in Shame, Secrets or Silence (Deserving happy dance included)  I posted this 5 years ago and it is true…. Never forget the things that make you feel real ⚘ #WisdomWednesday

Why Two Names?

Why Two Names?

Many people have questioned me, “Why are you using two names for a two-part memoir?”  I do understand why this would confuse people since it is a memoir and not a series, so to speak.  I guess that answer is in my handwritten journals from the 1980s…

‘I lived a childhood tragedy and it was all under a mother’s watch.’
I wrote those words in my journal and from that day forward, I always said if I was to write my life story, then I would call it A Childhood Tragedy Under A Mother’s Watch.

After that journal filled up, I started another one.  The very first line in that journal reads…

‘I’m about to fill these pages with words of a life given to me.’
Eight journals later, I found myself at age forty-five writing my life story and a whopping 245,000 words later, I was finished.

That was when I began taking advice from so many who have supported me with their empathy, kindness and experience in publishing a book. Advice, at times, I dreaded hearing, but also advice I accepted without hesitation. Even the advice that stated:
‘I highly recommend you splitting your book into two parts.’

I remember staring at that comment in my email and feeling like I was looking down a long and winding rabbit hole.  But I gave in, I turned my memoir into two parts and the two names I once wrote in my handwritten journals.

A Childhood Tragedy Under A Mother’s Watch: Part One 1975-1982 Lowell Massachusetts
A Life Given To Me: Part Two 1982-2019 Lowell Massachusetts

Part two picks up where part one left off; standing on the sidewalk looking back at the front door I was not welcomed in.  And though my childhood tragedy was over, the mental, emotional and psychological abuse from my own family was only beginning.

A forty-four year journey of living as a statistic in a world full of abused children who were growing up. From victim to survivor, my life story is an open book for the world to read. 

May we one day, end the shame, silence and secrets that follows the lifetime of a child who suffers through childhood trauma and family secrets.  

Part One is now available…
Part Two is coming in two short months

If you like poetry…

My poetic memoir, Survivor’s Mind: When Childhood Trauma and Poetry Collide is a window into the world of childhood trauma, family secrets and inside the mind of a survivor… Poetically Written and is available…

Christmas in Poetry Land is a collection of festive poems that are sure to delight your holiday season for years to come.

So, that is where the two names for my memoir came from… From words I wrote decades ago, in a journal.

Thank you for reading me. Peace and Blessings to all.

Your host and friend, Catherine Mellen aka Irishgirl692

Part Two 1982-2019 Coming in June

I turned my shame, secrets and silence into stepping stones of strength, courage and the right to be heard. 

My childhood tragedy was over but the mental, emotional and psychological abuse from my own family was only beginning.  Part Two coming in June.

Part One now available:

A Horrifying Reality

Read about my life but don’t have any pity, I am a strong Irish girl from an all American City

Survivor’s Mind: When Childhood Trauma and Poetry Collide
A window into the world of childhood trauma, family secrets and inside the mind of a survivor … Poetically Written ♡ #poetic #memoir

The horrifying story behind the poetry: Part One 1975-1982 Lowell Massachusetts

Part Two 1982-2019 coming in June 2022

The horrifying truth behind child rape, torture, family secrets, a forty year trail of unsolved murders and the monstrous predator my birth mother harbored  #Shocking #truecrime

Complex Regional Pain Syndrome

Complex regional pain syndrome

I was only two weeks into being forty-five years old and I was on my way home from work.  It was the start of a new year, January 2, 2015. 

I had returned to work one day a week back in the summer of 2014.  I was nervous about returning to work after being out of work for almost five years taking care of my daughter.  But it was my daughter’s eagerness to recover, be independent and live her life, that got me back into the workforce.  It also helped that I was returning to my job at the Four Sisters Owl Diner where I had their support and encouragement throughout my transition back to work.

A Friday after work, just like it was back in 2009; a Friday after work.  My life had changed so much since 2009; my oldest daughter had her own apartment, my son was now living with his father and my youngest daughter was going to be roommates with her oldest sister.  And there I was in my own one bedroom apartment.

My kids really grew up since my daughter’s accident in 2009 and I guess I also did.

After work on January 2, 2015, I stopped at my daughter’s who was outside hanging with her friend’s.  We talked for a bit before I headed out of her parking lot and onto Bridge Street. 

As I drove over the Bridge Street bridge, I got stuck at the red light.  It was a long light as it was at a major roadway intersection.  I watched the cars, I watched the lights changing until finally looking out my driver’s side window over the bridge. 

I remember thinking how beautiful the sky looked and then I was looking up at my steering wheel.  My head banged or something made my eyes open as I saw my steering wheel in a foggy like state.  As my eyes started to close I quickly went into panic mode.  Why was I looking up at my steering wheel? 

I felt my feet were sideways and not on the brake pedal.  I quickly tried pulling myself up when I was thrown above my steering wheel and just as quickly snapped back.  The over strap of my seat belt was ripped off me but the strap around my waist is what snapped me back onto my seat. The headband I had on my head was on the passenger side floor along with my phone which I kept on my drivers side door. 

I looked ahead and saw the SUV in front of me was now on top of the front end of my car.  People came up to my window telling me not to move. (I actually thought the bridge was falling)  They were pointing to the back of my car and yelling, “He’s moving his jeep off your car.” 

Uhhhhhh?  I must have looked so confused as I looked in my crooked rear view mirror.  All I could see was the front of a black jeep as my car bounced and banged.  Shaking me as I held onto my steering wheel. 

Before I knew it, I was surrounded by police, emergency medical technicians and onlookers.  That was when I turned around and saw RT 110 over the bridge where my daughter’s accident happened just five years earlier.  And I panicked, I had a panic attack thinking I was at my daughter’s accident scene.

My car was totaled and I was in a lot of pain.  After X-Rays, MRI, Catsscan, surgeon and a therapist, I was referred to a pain doctor.  I never imagined how many needles can go into one persons head and neck in one lifetime.  But I am living proof that anything is possible.

I felt like my cervical spine was on fire

I felt the back of my head was shattering into cracks

I felt like a hole was in the back of my neck

I felt like I had lumps in my neck and head

I felt sharp pains

I felt throbs, spasms, electric shocks and pain.

I was unable to work, unable to drive, unable to move fast, turn my head to the left or be happy.

Along with all the pain associated to my accident, I was also dealing with horrifying repressed memories.

After one round of cortisone shots and no relief at all, my pain doctor scheduled me for a branch block.

A painful procedure I had to be awake for. 

A branch block only blocks the nerve which is causing the pain. My first branch block was on eight nerves… that was eight long hot pronged needles in my neck area.

Because there was some relief, I was then scheduled a radio-frequency where the procedure is the same as a branch block, but instead of blocking the nerve, a radio-frequency burns the nerve right off.

Only problem, nerves grow back.

I was told the accident left me with a 10% loss of sensation in the back of my neck, I suffered multiple damaged facet joints, irreversible ligament, tendons, muscle and nerve damage 

I suffered injuries which resulted in vertigo, tinnitus, dystonia, occipital neuralgia until finally being diagnosed with complex regional pain syndrome.

It took over two years but my pain doctor figured it out and diagnosed me.  I suffer from CRPS.  Ok so now, what is the cure?

There is no cure.

Wait?  What?  No cure?  How can this be?  I am in intense pain.  So what do I do?  My pain doctor has me on daily nerve medication, Tylenol and prescribed Motrin.  He also has me in for radio-frequencies, branch blocks for above my C-2 area and Dysport injections every ninety days.

The only other option aside from all the needles in my neck and head was to take daily opioids and narcotics that would only be upgraded as I became more dependent on them.  It was easier to agree to the needles than to agree on becoming addicted to narcotics.

So I have been diagnosed, I receive ongoing care with my pain doctor… But what now? How has living with CRPS affected my daily life?

It starts the minute I wake up until I go to bed and even waking me throughout my sleep.  I haven’t slept more than five hours at a time since my accident. 

I hurt in my head, the top of my skull, the hole in the back of my neck and the lump on the side of my neck.

The rotated cervical spine flares up, the Dystonia is like irish tap dancers are in my neck. The occipital neuralgia is like vertigo meets nausea meets tinnitus.

The dead arm, lack of strength and pain, so much pain.  Like a twisted neck and a migraine having a bonfire in my neck.

My doctor explained to me how he could not help me with my injuries or pain…. All he could do was help me live through the injuries and pain. 

And that’s what I do… I walk slow, I move slow.  I barely bend down, I manage my vertigo along with my head and neck injuries.

I make sure I take it easy, I rest when needed and I don’t do things to ignite flare up.

Sometimes the hole in my neck will form a lump and causing me to be very discomfort in pain.

Some days I just squeeze my head, begging it to go away… but it never does.

So what is CRPS?  It is the most painful medical condition known to man with a 45/50 on the McGill pain scale. 

Type 1 is known as RSD Reflex Sympathetic Dystrophy and does not involve an apparent lesion on a nerve.

Type 2 is known as CRPS Complex Regional Pain Syndrome with a known lesion is present.

Both types of RSD/CRPS are caused by trauma to the nerves in regards to injuries, surgery, heart attacks and strokes. 

Even with todays medical technology, there is no cure for this painful condition.

It is so painful it is hard to find good doctors to treat this condition.

CRPS has a grim nickname known as the, ‘Suicide disease.’  Some patients who are desperate to halt their pain, end their life.

It is one of many tragic aspects that accompanies RSD/CRPS.   

Of course I had to go all out and be diagnosed with Type 2 😓 Fewer than 200,000 cases per year have been reported and I am one of those cases.  

I am a continued case study for my pain doctor as he tries to find better measures for me to live in a less pain as possible.

I have since forgave the man who used my car as his brakes. His careless driving has affected my life in ways I am sure he has no clue about.

I no longer work, drive, run, walk fast, play hopscotch with my granddaughter.  I no longer have a social life and I no longer live a physical pain free life.

I always lived with emotional pain, I’ve carried it with me throughout my life, only now I carry physical pain in my head and neck, like I did when that monster from my childhood would poke, squeeze and punch me in my head and neck.

Now over seven years since my accident, my pain doctor continues to see me on a regular basis and keeping me away from opioids and narcotics as he continues to find ways to improve my daily living in a more comfortable way.  

I wouldn’t wish this diagnosis on anyone, just like I wouldn’t wish my childhood or the caring loving safe family I never had on anyone.

I am now a young fifty year old legally disabled collecting social security disability benefits.  It was not my plan in life but most things in my life were never planned. 

They say we are only given what we can handle. They say we only get what we deserve.  They say karma is why.

It is none of the above… 

My childhood was because of my birth mother and her monster of a boyfriend.  My car accident was because an idiot driver wasn’t paying attention. 

My strength to get through, get by or move on is because of my faith in God, my faith in the angels I have above me and the good people in my life. 

Aside from all the other heartache in my life, I also deal with complex regional pain syndrome.  But like everything else in my life, I got this, one day at a time, but I got this ♡  

This Monday, March 7th, I will have my 26th round of Dysport injections and on Tuesday, March 8th, I will undergo my 24th radio-frequency (Gulp)  Just how many needles can go into one girl’s cervical spine in a lifetime?… Stay Tuned 🖤

Thank You for reading me.

I wish nothing but Peace and Blessings to all ♡ 

Your host and friend… Catherine Mellen (aka Irishgirl692)   

My Social Media Links…

The Ink Pot Author Spotlight

The Ink Pot by H. M. Mills

1 Can you tell us a bit about yourself? Add some fun facts.

I am a mom to three children who grew up way too fast and a grammy to two granddaughters.  I’ve never seen a baby picture of myself, but I think my youngest granddaughter is a mini-me.

2. When did you start writing?

I was fourteen when I wrote my first poem and eighteen when I began writing my life story.

3. Some authors write under a pseudonym, what name do you write under?

I use my own name, except Twitter, Instagram & Pinterest, I use Irishgirl692

4. What genre/s do you write in?

Poetry, Non-fiction, Short Stories

5. How many books have you written and how many are published?

I have 12 written books, 3 are published and a 4th one will be out in June 2022, with others to follow.

6. What are the titles of the books you have published?

Christmas in Poetry Land

Survivor’s Mind: When Childhood Trauma and Poetry Collide

A Childhood Tragedy Under A Mother’s Watch: Part One 1975-1982 Lowell Massachusetts.

7. What inspired your stories?

The first poem I wrote was about a bird escaping abuse (I was the bird)  I guess my longing to be heard by the same people who only wanted me to stay silent.

8. Can you tell us a bit about each of your books?

Christmas in Poetry Land is a collection of over thirty holiday themed poems. From lazy elves, an ugly sweater party, a Mistletoe Kiss to a Santa sleigh ride, Anti-bullying Rudolph & more.

Survivor’s Mind is a poetic memoir into the world of childhood trauma, family secrets and inside the mind of a survivor. Poetically written.

A Childhood Tragedy Under A Mother’s Watch: Part One 1975-1982 Lowell Massachusetts is the story behind the poetry and the horrifying truth behind child rape, torture, family secrets and the monstrous predator my birth mother harbored.

A Life Given To Me: Part Two 1982-2019 Lowell Massachusetts is my continuing life story of growing up a statistic in a world full of abused children.  Shame, silence, secrets, reconnections, distances, repressed memories, unsolved murders and a girl who just wanted to be heard.  Coming June 2022

9. What are you working on right now?

I am currently editing my 2023 releases, Understanding Childhood Trauma, Do You Understand It Now?  Christmas Stories in Poetry Land and American Dream: Tales of a Poet.

10. Do you have a routine you like to go through before you start writing? If so, tell us about it.

Not really, it seems every time I go in routine, life goes and messes it up 🙃

11. What kind of writing process do you go through?

I don’t let myself stress over it.  I take my time and edit it multiple upon multiple times.

12. What comes first for you, the plot, or the characters?

In my memoir, they both came first. In my short stories, it is definitely the plot.

13. How do you keep your plot straight?

When I find myself confused in my own plot, I take a day or two before diving back into it.

14. What is your favourite part of writing and why?

Writing has always been my saving grace and there were times when it was also my best friend.  I do find serenity in writing,

15. Which of your characters do you relate to the most and why?

For over thirty years, I never really thought of the girl in my memories, but since writing my memoir, I can finally relate to what it felt like to be me when I was a child.

16. Have you ever modelled a character on someone you know? If so, did they ever find out? And how did they or would they react?

My short story collection 33 Cases of Karma is still in the revising stages, but many of the characters are based on people I know, including me.  Many will laugh and the others probably wouldn’t have a clue lol

17. Are any of your characters modelled after yourself? If so, did you find any part of writing them therapeutic?

Writing my memoir was extremely hard, but knowing I am being heard, I am no longer a secret, that is extremely therapeutic for me.

18. If you were to write a spin off from one of your books, which book and character would it be about? And why?

My 2024 release of Promise Made, Promise Kept would be the book and the spin off would be about my character Jon coming back to life.  Because I miss him ♡

19. What part of writing your book was the hardest? Tell us why?

Part One of my memoir A Childhood Tragedy Under A Mother’s Watch was the most hardest book I will ever write in my life.

20. What part of your book was the most fun to write and why?

Despite all the horror from my childhood, I did enjoy writing about my teenage years and the stepping stones to my strength and courage.

21. What is your favourite and least favourite part of publishing?

Favorite part is reading people’s reviews and words of encouragement.  Least favourite is knowing I’m not in Amazon’s top ten yet.

22. Have you ever had writers block?

I think we all suffer from that sometimes, mine also spreads to laundry block, cook diner block and so on.

23. What to you are the most important elements of good writing?

Giving it your best.  Sit in front of that type writer and write until you bleed.

24. How do you use social media as an author?

My main blog is through MightyNetworks, I then share my works on WordPress, Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, LinkedIn, Goodreads, Allauthor and Amazon Central

25. What advice would you give to help a new writer?

Don’t give up.  It takes a lot of work, but eventually you will get there.

26. Add all the links of where we can find you to follow and purchase your books.

Social Media…

My Books…

Thank you Hayley and all behind the scenes. I appreciate this opportunity to share my story, poetry and more.

All my love,
Catherine Mellen

Thank you so much for participating in the Ink Pot’s author spotlight. It’s been an absolute pleasure getting to know more about you and your work. I wish you every success for the future.

Hayley Mills (The Ink Pot)
H. M. Mills


Hello Darkness My Old Friend 🖤

Hello darkness my old friend, I’ve come to talk with you again.

Because a vision softly creeping, left its seeds while I was sleeping.

And the vision that was planted in my brain, still remains.

Within the sound of silence.

A song driven to give companion to the voices in one’s head.

A darkness we try to forget, put behind us and move on from until suddenly… Hello darkness my old friend.

It comes with the silence, then the anger, followed by resentment only to end with, “What did I do to deserve this?” Why did I have to hurt in silence?  Why did I have to live in darkness? Why did I have to suffer, deal, move on, forget or put it behind me, alone? 

I believed it was what I was suppose to do.

Society, family and friends… It was the way of the times in the 1980s and 1990s.  I needed proof and I wasn’t enough proof because they wanted more proof.

My birth mother and two older siblings were my proof. But they were sick of me bringing it up.

I sat with darkness my old friend for too long.

I stood my ground, saw some light and I distanced myself to save myself.

But now what?  As positive as I tried to live there were always many, many times when I found myself stuck in an emotion and I held it in as long as I could, but he always paid me a visit… 

Hello darkness my old friend.

I would get so mad at myself for remembering, for hurting and for crying over the same damn thing over and over again… My Damn Childhood.

But it was my darkness that helped me see it was so much more than just my childhood.

With the help of darkness my old friend… 

I was able to see how I deserved to be treated.

I was able to see I deserved acknowledgement.

I was able to see I deserved to be heard.

I was able to see I could keep my darkness as my old friend.

Many mornings, days and nights, darkness was my only friend.

Until one day, in my late forties my old friend darkness became my bright light.

Through my darkness I found strength, I found courage and I found support from everyone except the ones who didn’t care I lived in darkness for all those years. They only cared I lived in silence.

I learned a lot on my own and learning to welcome my darkness was a tough lesson I had to learn. 

It was one too many trick questions, a sound, an image, a trigger… I cried and cried as I sat with my darkness until I made my darkness my old friend.

When my darkness now visits, I let the tears fall instead of getting mad at myself for crying. 

I remind myself, ‘It’s ok to cry.’ 

I remind myself, ‘They treated me wrong.’ 

I remind myself,  ‘My God, I’m only human.’ 

And suddenly darkness became my old friend.

Throughout life we are all subject to darkness. We lose loved ones to death, we struggle to belong, we fight to survive, we hope, pray and wish everyday.

Adding depression, PTSD, C-PTSD and any form of mental health to the already heavy plate life throws at us can make anyone’s darkness seem like the enemy.  But you are not sitting with an enemy, you’re sitting with your darkness.

Sometimes your darkness is the friend that helps you see the light.

And if there is no light, that’s ok… Sitting with your darkness can always be the oldest friend you have, but also the most honest one ♡  

Thank You for reading me and be sure to catch…Hello darkness my old friend (Sound Of Silence) by Simon and Garfunkel or my favorite by Disturbed

Peace and Blessings to all ♡ 

Please feel free to stalk my social media accounts at …

#FebruarySheWrote Interview

Author Spotlight: Catherine Mellen

Posted byMarie SinadjanPosted inAuthorsTags:Authors

Meet Catherine Mellen, author of A Childhood Tragedy Under A Mother’s Watch: Part One 1975-1982 Lowell Massachusetts.


Happy Friday, bookish friends!  For today’s #FebruarySheWrote spotlight I have another guest author from the Feed My Reads community: American poet, author and blogger Catherine Mellen.  Born in 1969 in Lowell Massachusetts, she wrote her first poem at age fourteen and quickly adapted her love for words.  Shamed by the childhood she lived, she became a cook and caterer for nearly three decades.  An auto accident at age 45 left her disabled and a victim to horrifying repressed memories, then in 2018 she started a blog where she shattered her silence on childhood trauma, family secrets and unsolved murders in her hometown.

Her poetry has been published in numerous poetry journals, and she is also the author of Christmas in Poetry LandSurvivor’s Mind, and A Childhood Tragedy Under A Mother’s Watch: Part One 1975-1982 Lowell Massachusetts

What made you decide to publish independently?

I decided to self publish two of my poetry books back in 2021 as the Coronavirus put a stall on querying to agents.

You’re also traditionally published. Got a story to share about your querying and publication journey?

I began querying back in 2016 and though I received rejection letters, they were also filled with advice and opinions that I gladly took. As much work we put into our writing, the revising and editing is a must do, no matter how much we dread it.

What has been your most unforgettable experience (good or bad) as an author?

My most unforgettable experience was when I received a full manuscript request for my poetry book and by accident I sent the file for part one of my memoir, which mortified the beta-reader.

Who do you think you inspire? If not, who and what do you want to inspire?

I hope I inspire others to know they do not have to live in shame, secrets or silence. At times, I inspire myself for having the courage in telling my story in such graphic detail.

What character archetype would you be if you were a character in a book, movie or TV series?

I would love to be Snow White from Once Upon A Time because she is a bad ass character.

What kind of animal character would you be in your story, and why?

I would say an elephant. They stick by family, love their offspring and don’t let anyone walk all over them.

If you were not doing what you are doing now, what activity or hobby would be keeping you busy?

I was a cook for 27 years until a drunk driver left me disabled back in 2015.

What do you consider as your weakness, and have you done anything to overcome it?

My weakness was accepting the truth about my birth family. Who wants to remember the caring, safe, loving family you never had? As life proved, for nearly 30 years, I didn’t.

Anything else you want to tell your fans, our readers, and the writing/reading/blogging community at large?

Part Two of my memoir will be out in June 2022 and I will be adding many more books to my collection of published works.

I would also like to thank all at Feed My Reeds for their over abundance of work they do behind the scenes. Thank you all for your support, I truly appreciate it.

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A true story chronicling the young life of Catherine Alice Mellen and the mother who harbored a monster.  A graphic, in-depth detailed look into the daily life of childhood trauma, family secrets and a young girl who just wanted the abuse to stop.

Catherine was five years old when she was subjected to a horrifying evil as fear instilled her every day life.  Being a trophy in a child predators sick world, she turned to a mother who turned her away, she looked up to brothers who looked the other way.  She pleaded for help, begged to be protected and assumed it was love.  It wasn’t long until Catherine’s mother turned her excuses for her boyfriend into hate for her own daughter.  A childhood full of inhumane sexual abuse, torture and cruelty would all end with the completion of a well dug out tunnel inside the cellar wall.  Knowing she would be silenced for good, Catherine’s desire to live and not be abused anymore would be decided in a split second decision she made as an eleven year old.  Would her family be there for her or would she just disappear from the home?  This is a true story of one child’s desperation for survival.


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Repressed Memory Reality

It’s feeling your ribs slam against the bandaged torn sealed scars of your heart as you gasp for a breath that is really a knife, slicing the pain wide open~ A Repressed Memory Reality

Survivor’s Mind: When Childhood Trauma and Poetry Collide… #poetic #memoir

A Childhood Tragedy Under A Mother’s Watch: The horrifying story behind the poetry…  #shocking #truecrime

Part Two:  A Life Given To Me 1982-2019 is coming in June 2022

Childhood Abuse, Family Secrets, Unsolved Murders and the Monstrous Predator My Birth Mother Harbored..

Powerful and Supportive

‘This is in memory of my high school mentor, Fr William Joseph Dowling of Kilburn, and in salute of the power behind this book by Catherine Mellen’ ~ Jack Oswald

A powerful, supportive and beautiful mockup banner by Jack Oswald #grateful #blessed and #thankful

Part Two 1982-2019 coming June 2022

Brand New Teardrop

💧Brand New Teardrop💧

Brand new little teardrop
Running down my cheek
Sorry you must visit
In my pains highest peak.

Although I feel a comfort
That you would feel my pain
A tiny little teardrop
Falling down like rain.

Back again my tiny teardrop
I’m sorry I’m not that strong
I’m glad you came to visit again
My strength it seems, is gone.

I don’t mean to be a bother
Or keep wasting your time
I’m glad you’re here to support me
When my pain is at its prime.

Tiny little teardrop
Why must you visit again
I’m trying to live without you
I don’t want to be your friend.

I want my face to smile
I want my heart to feel good
I wish you would stay away
If only you could.

Tiny little teardrop
Like an old withered routine
Slicing through my happiness
With your teardrops in between.

You’ve gotten kind of boring
An old habit to name a few
It’s time for me to start over
Making teardrops that are new.

Why must you return
To my eyes that cry?
I’ve told you many times
It’s time to say goodbye.

I wiped away your tears
Their flow I did stop
I just didn’t know
Each time, it was a brand new teardrop.

Written by Catherine Mellen ⚘

A New England Snowstorm

A New England Snowstorm

As I lay down to sleep
Snow will fall three feet deep.

I made a list of things I’ll need
Pen, paper and books to read.

Shovels, rock salt and some sand
Check in on neighbors who need a hand.

Flashlights, batteries and candles too
Incase power goes out for a few.

Some beer, liquor and the wine
Stock them up and you’ll be fine.

An over abundance of marijuana
This is my list, you can join if you wanna.

Grocery store trips are a big no no
But for bread and milk, people still go.

Parking bans and nowhere to park
Another snowstorm leaving its mark

Disgruntled drivers all over the road
Middle fingers waving, a masshole code.

Three feet of snow is coming our way
Don’t like the weather, then wait a day.

A winter blast with snow above our knees
But on Tuesday, temps will be fifty degrees.

Written by Catherine Mellen aka Irishgirl692