Everybody’s Talking At Me

Everybody’s talking at me.
I don’t hear a word they’re saying,
Only the echoes of my mind.
People stopping staring,
I can’t see their faces,
Only the shadows of their eyes.

I’m going where the sun keeps shining
Thru’ the pouring rain,
Going where the weather suits my clothes,
Backing off of the North East wind,
Sailing on summer breeze
And skipping over the ocean like a stone.

I’m going where the sun keeps shining
Thru’ the pouring rain,
Going where the weather suits my clothes,
Backing off of the North East wind,
Sailing on summer breeze
And skipping over the ocean like a stone

—Harry Nilsson

Although the interpretation of this song varies from person to person, I have always interpreted these lyrics as describing what it’s like to have people always talking about you; talking at you as if you aren’t there, standing right in front of them; having people staring at you; and about how you, personally deal with all of this; finding your own peace and solitude in the midst of it all.

Have you ever felt like people are talking at you, talking about you, even though you are standing there right in front of them? I feel that way each and every day.

A typical day for me goes something like this:

I get out of bed, and if I’m lucky to have a few minutes to myself, I turn on the tv to catch the morning news while I am getting ready. Some days, I can avoid hearing about myself, but in recent months, it’s been day after day that the news is about me, although I remain nameless in the broadcast. The healthcare bill and whether coverage of abortion is included in it, George Tiller murdered, Abby Johnson resigning from Planned Parenthood after viewing an abortion, the newsfeed goes on and on. The major newsmakers involved in each story may change, but the one constant in each of these stories is the unborn children that are killed by abortion. Having survived an abortion, myself, at approximately 24 weeks gestation, I consider myself one of these unborn children.

The only difference between myself and the others who have been aborted is that I was blessed enough to survive, have a voice, and now lend it to them in return. I honestly believe that all of us, as fellow humans, are just like my fellow unborn brothers and sisters whose lives have been ended by abortion. We are all human; we are all made from the same fabric of life. The only thing that sets us apart is one decision-the decision that some make to end a life. Far too often I see people avoid this true reality about abortion. We were all one step, one decision away from being an aborted child. This is the reality of my life that I’ve had to face, and it has certainly not been easy, but far too many people seem to be complacent with the fact that their mother chose life. I don’t wish the reality of my life on anyone (although I have come to the point in my life where I know that it is an absolute blessing and gift, not a hardship), but I do wish that more people could walk in my shoes for just a day to truly feel, to truly understand the reality of abortion and not take the so-called “choice” of life for granted.

But I digress…..

After getting myself and Olivia ready for the day, I drop her off at daycare. And although our music of choice during our trip is children’s music or a movie, after I have the car all to my lonesome, I turn on my satellite radio. Typically, I listen to EWTN, but sometimes I listen to XM’s Catholic Channel, and still other times I catch up on the news with CNN Headline News. No matter the station, however, the talk again always turns to abortion, to pro-life issues, to unborn children.

While at work, I typically check my personal email on my Blackberry a couple of times a day, and check out the news on the local and national fronts, and also the newest updates from friends, family, and colleagues on Facebook and Twitter. Obviously, because of my pro-life beliefs and interest, I receive emails, inspirational quotes, and news links on abortion and pro-life work throughout the day. And obviously, that is my choice to do so, as it is so many other people around the world, but the difference between 99% of the rest of the world and myself is that once again, whether it’s the satellite radio station or the news links and emails that I receive, I am one of the unborn children that are being talked about.

And so my day continues….my trip home is much like my trip to work. I listen to satellite radio on my way to pick up my daughter from daycare, and once again hear about abortion and the unborn children just like me that are killed each and every day. When my husband and I turn on the evening and nightly news, there are the day’s stories again, almost always touching on abortion. Before I go to bed at night, and I check out my emails and updates from Facebook and Twitter again, there are more stories, more news about abortion.

And yes, I know that I could turn it all off-the tv, the emails, the Internet and it’s applications, which truthfully, many days I do, and frankly, I would encourage everyone to do, to shut out the noise of the world that we live in and just focus on ourselves and our families (kind of like Harry Nilsson does in his lyrics, finding some peace and serenity amongst it all), but that’s not my point here.

My point is that like the survivor of a traumatic experience often has to relive it over and over again, both in their mind and through it playing out in the media, I live out my “status” as the survivor of a failed abortion attempt each and every day, and will do so for the rest of my life.   I can turn off the radio or the tv, but I can’t turn off the truth.

I simply can’t say it enough—I know that my life is a blessing, but I don’t know that I can truly tell you how it feels to have people “talking at you” all day long, and wondering if they understand what they are saying, who they are really talking about; whether they ever hear a word that I am saying.  I hope that you do.

As for me,

“I’m going where the sun keeps shining
Thru’ the pouring rain,
Going where the weather suits my clothes,
Backing off of the North East wind,
Sailing on summer breeze
And skipping over the ocean like a stone.”