Spiritually enslaved

“Bound”
https://www.instagram.com/p/CGgFs07Ar5-/?igshid=1v9zqun43nt1a

I could feel the famine as my tastebuds were tricked into savoring and becoming addicted to the flavor from the essence of meeting my needs. The chains that held me captive, though heavy, kept me trapped in a belief that this was my worth and value.

My survival mode is what told me to remain with my broken pieces for if I broke the lock that was cinched so tightly, how would I be fed the morsels that kept me alive?

There was a point I was so deep within the struggle I couldn’t see another way. This was my comfort food, my nourishment that sustained me for 1 day increments. The rest of my days, I was starving.

The dungeon was dark, cold and despairing, but it felt familiar and safe somehow. The rituals, protocols and rules overtook me. I didn’t know I was in danger, mentally and physically being tormented as my soul cried out.

One day I saw a link that had rusted and became like glue, but looking closer, I noticed another that had cracked. This precious piece had been compromised as I wiggled it a little each day. Days, weeks, months even years had passed and though this once sturdy link, now weakened over time, gave me strength I hadn’t known before.

Could it be that if these restraints were all removed that I could withstand the release and experience freedom, have joy and peace, comfort and feel loved? Terrified I would die, remain lost and starve forever, I found ways to begin to break away.

Consumed with questions, paralyzed by my own answers and fearing the truth, I embraced the idea and took that first leap. What was about to happen I couldn’t know or see and where I was going to end up I couldn’t reach, not yet.

Day 1, I learned to take a big gulp of the new air I had never smelled before. Day 2, I felt new strength as my legs stood taller and walked a little farther down the path. Day 3, I tasted this sweet flavor that was clearing my palette that I’d never experienced before.

Day 150, my appetite has gone from destruction to reconstruction of my spirit. What I craved all those years was never going to be enough to make me
feel full. Your fish are not that delicious, but my Fathers fridge is full! I haven’t been eating the wrong things, I’ve been getting them from the wrong source.

He has done for me what I couldn’t consider and by doing so, He created room to receive the truth, the peace, the love, comfort and joy. Welcome to my funeral for the rabble as I enjoy the new feast.

✍🏻🧝🏻‍♀️

Sharing is caring

May you always know a Mama’s love and warmth… 💕

Did you know the child you birthed, may not be whom you thought they were? Can you understand they may be struggling with something more powerful, cunning and baffling than their own imagination? Do you accept what they perceive and actually know to be their truth, yet they’ve suppressed it for so long?

If you are further confused by what is seemingly bizarre and unexplainable behavior from a loved one, especially your own flesh and blood, the offspring you thought you knew, and you find yourself in constant concern, wonder and worry, you’re not alone, but they may feel as if they are.

Has you child come to you with a secret so deep they can’t muster up the words to speak so they stammer and stumble as they try to explain. You look at them perplexed, coaxing them to just say the words, assuring them it’s ok because you love them so much. You take notice the fear consuming them and yet you persuade them to trust you, hoping they feel safe. At last they just vomit the thing they wanted to share because in doing so they know, or at least can imagine, the relief they’ll feel once they open their busting heart.

Finally they blurt it out, the suppression they’ve been hiding behind, the one they could feel, but never knew why. They’ve felt crazy, like their own skin holding them together doesn’t really belong to them. They’re so uncomfortable they wish they could peel it away just to reveal what’s deep down within. Suddenly its out there and you can’t un-know the things you’ve been told and somehow you manage to take a gulp of air and exhale. You have little emotion, no true reaction yet as your heart begins to sing and you smile feeling their relief.

Terrified to tell you, but so desperate to get it out, they wait for you to say something, anything and the only thought to share is how much you love them. What else would a doting parent do? Reject this child or embrace them as you’ve always done? The choice is obviously the latter and so you choose that card and take the gamble. This child of yours is a sure bet so you feel pretty good about this decision.

For the past too many years to count, this child has been tormented inside, but by what? You pray for them and pour love into their souls. You cry over them, fret, worry and obsess over their very well being and still, until this blessed day would come, you continue to lose sleep and suffer for their pain.

They stray and stay away until they come back, wounded and confused, but you love them through it all. Because of you they can venture out to test the water and find their crooked way, but still you love them unconditionally because in a sense, they’re still yours. They face fear and they run, we watch and we wait, but somehow we find our way back to the other to touch home plate and feel that safety net wrap us up until we part another day.

Rest assured this path is their journey. They are never alone as we stand on the sidelines, cheering them along. They’ll find their way in the darkness and the light. Despite all the trials they will triumph in the night. Sleep well and take comfort they will be alright.

A loving, devoted mama bear.
I share because I care.

✍🏻🧝🏻‍♀️

Equal parts of pleasure and pain

That’s the addiction between them, but where’s the love, honor, devotion and respect?

Unhealthy as can be, walking along, him loving her, their desire undying, what else could they expect?

No ordinary life style created from the darkest part, the destruction of her broken heart.

Time over time she trusted him with it all, never believing the depths she would fall.

It isn’t who he is, but rather whom he’s become, she fights her own battles, with no escape or place to run.

For now it’s clear to see, her equal part gained pleasure with the pain she had endured, yet his love, she will forever treasure…

✍🏻🧝🏻‍♀️

He’s some kind of a sorcerer

Philippians 4:13
I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me

He had cast a spell over me some time ago. I loved him when he was hurting me. I trusted him not to do it again. I believed him when he said he loved me. I questioned him in my mind and answered it to my heart.

It was he who disappointed me. It was he who lied with every word falling from his lips. It was he who deceived me. It was he who took pleasure while I suffered. It was he who tore it all apart.

I can see clearly now that the physical and daily mental pain has gone astray, the kind you inflicted upon me.

I feel clarity washing over me, the kind that allows me to see clearly.

I taste a little freedom now and then since making real choices as decisions are declared over my life by me now.

I smell the fragrance of life since I’ve been unshackled from being devoured whole and fed nonsense by you.

Today I can pause, it’s a must, to pay attention to my breath for this is all I can trust.

Because of you I walked away from all that I knew, believed in, held tight to, counted on and grew.

Thank you for the release from ties that kept me bound, for had you not I wouldn’t have the courage to stand firmly on this ground.

Time under tension increases strength and power, so is it no wonder I’ve come back to my One and only strong tower.

How grateful to you I have a new found peace and revel in the quiet moments to worship, glorify and to hear, the gentle whispers of my God who is always near.

Uncluttered is my heart, open it to receive, let my mind become sharper, it is honestly in You I deeply believe.

✍🏻🧝🏻‍♀️

Please just let me be

The hurt and the healing… it’s all my process

There’s still those nights when the poison must come out = the problem the hurt the pain

There’s more days than before when the light shines through = the solution the hope the joy

Seeing you in the distance, passing you on the road, stirs up emotions I have to unload…

You threw me away time and time again. Each discard breaking my heart more than the last.

Days would pass, sometimes even months and there you are, missing me and I you.

I faded more with every reconciliation while more torture brought deeper pain.

You’ve abandoned and dismissed me as if I never existed. I see now that it cut to my core, straight through to my soul.

You took it all and left me naked beneath the ground. Buried alive with pennies over my eyes you left your rag doll burnt and shattered.

I’ve spent my days since your final display when you shoved me out, replaying events that still haunt me today.

I want you to suffer and wriggle in fear the way you torment me by keeping this real.

I get it, the inner turmoil that drives those hurtful parts of you, but you need help to overcome the demons that reside within you.

There was a time you evoked all the goodness from me. Now you bring out the worst with your unwillingness to take responsibility.

It’s an ugly trait and I feel sorry for you. The longer you go untreated, the darker you become and the hardening of your heart can’t be undone.

How could you let us come to this. Such acts of hatred and remorse. Really it’s your own hurting bones and crushed spirit that makes you behave in these bizarre, unexplainable ways.

I didn’t put any of it in you, yet I’ve been paying for the sins of others since the day we came to be.

You take me back to the depths of that despair with one single motion. If this is the direction you truly wanted things to go, be a grownup, a mature man, the one who had my complete devotion.

I don’t want to suffer beautifully for you any longer, you fucked up, twisted man. What you’ve done and continue to do only makes me see the true version of you.

There are other victims for you to choose from, the ones you had lined up when you set me free.

Go screw with their minds, leave your marks on their flesh, let me fucking go.

Please just let me be…

✍🏻🧝🏻‍♀️

The insanity cha cha

🧠🔨

She’s too tired to cry. She’s too worn to care. She’s too numb to feel. She’s too torn to choose.

She cries out, please hold my heart. She rises up, please heal my soul. She reaches out, please mend my spirit.

She’s not where she once was, but she’s not yet where she hopes to be.

He’s too tired to cry. He’s too worn to care. He’s too numb to feel. He’s too torn to choose.

He makes her cry with her heart so heavy. He holds her down wreaking havoc on her soul. He lets go of her hand as he unravels her spirit.

He’s not yet where he wants to be, but he’s not where he once was either.

The familiarity draws them close, makes him run, leaving her all alone.

Driven by fear, neither can receive God’s Favor to make it disappear.

In her darkest despair, she struggles to believe, he won’t trust so neither can receive.

✍🏻🧖🏼‍♀️

Loose ends

One day, you were there and the next, you were just gone

Abandoned and all alone, no one left to call on the phone

Closure was not a word she had ever heard

She walked through her days like a zombie in a haze

Is this how life is supposed to end, suddenly and tragically with no foreseeable way to mend

It hurts like hell that thing called death, taking her down to what feels like her last breath

It’s happening again that familiar heart wrenching rip, like she is losing her grip

She never gets to tie up those loose ends, they all just disappear, leaving inside gapping wounds and that endless fear

Where does she turn to, with unanswered clues, she is left shattered, understanding the fucking blues

Memories flood her to the very soul, questions erupt as they take their toll

What cowards, who up and leave, every last one of you, open wounds seeping through

The wreckage is smeared and scattered all around, dead or alive you are buried under ground

She will create the stories in her mind, putting the puzzle together one piece at a time

There is no decency left to recover, only freedom from the hurt she works to discover

Run away from all you’ve left behind, including the girl who cannot escape your mind

You’ve all done wrong and there’s nowhere left to hide, it’ll catch up to you as you take it all in stride

Loving those of you who slipped quietly away in the dark, on some ordinary day she will be singing like a lark

You never said goodbye, just left her there holding her heart, leaving her to cry

She revisits the stages of grief, lather, rinse, repeat

Unfinished business leaves grief that doesn’t end

Closure is the gift of maturity that brings comfort to a friend

✍🏻🧖🏼

Forgiveness is an art

It is rising above with class, dignity and valor.
It is for me not you.

It is in the strength of letting go not holding on.
It is for me not you.

It is for my sanity and well being to be free.
It is for me not you.

It is accepting what happened without harboring a resentment.
It is for me not you.

It is trusting a punishment will render from above.
It is for me not you.

It is believing we each did our best with what we knew.
It is for me not you.

It is exhaling knowing I’ve done all I can.
It is for me not you.

It is understanding no one can pour from an empty cup.
It is for me not you.

It is praying for your healing as well as my own.
It is for me not you.

It is being kind even in the midst of turmoil and grief.
It is for me not you.

It is severing all ties yet hoping you too will know peace.
It is for me not you.

It is caring that you still eat just not at my table.
It is for me not you.

It is living for today and not forgetting yesterday.
It is for me not you.

It is becoming a stronger person in spite of it all.
It is for me not you.

It is courageous staying in the fight not to win.
It is for me not you.

It is brave revealing the truth and standing proud.
It is for me not you.

It is the ability of not holding a grudge or keeping score.
It is for me not you.

It is loving without conditions regardless of them.
It is for me not you.

Forgiveness, forgiveness….

even if, even if…

✍🏻🧖🏼

It takes time to reclaim hope

HOPE

If she could only forget how her world once revolved around him
She could be free…

When she can at last choose to breathe because her life depends upon it
She will be free…

If she could stop pretending that being happy requires serving him
She can be free…

When she comes to realize it was all manipulative control
She will be set free…

If she can learn to accept he manufactured a lifestyle and it was abuse
She can be free…

When she stops looking back at the pain and deception
She will be free…

If she can find her way through the darkness where the light is leading the way
She will feel free…

When she can inhale peace and exhale joy
She can be free…

If she begins to understand his empty hearted soul
She can be set free…

When she knows he cannot pour from his cup that is dry
She will be free…

If she can find the comfort in being without him yet is grateful for the stillness
She is becoming free…

When she looks in the mirror and recognizes her own reflection
She has let go a little more and is feeling free…

If she sheds more tears and you can’t understand how he is making her feel
Give her space and time to process

One day she’ll awaken and simply know
what it’s like to be completely free…

✍🏻🧖🏼

Rescuing herself

She hides behind her smile, her insides riddled with anxiety, her breath shortens while her chest is tight and yet you can’t fathom how deep her troubles run. She disguises it well from the outside world while she fights to get up and face another day.

This friend of yours shares a story with you, one where you aren’t sure if she’s referring to herself or something she’s read, but suddenly you realize, it is in fact her horrific experience. As you continue to politely listen, the shock and disbelief well up. The pain grows in her heart, the agony dims the light in her eyes and as you watch, her body physically changes. She speaks more words, you become uncomfortable and though you don’t mean to, you interrupt her flow with your concerned opinion. Suddenly she turns the faucet off, chokes back her tears and shuts back down. She is experiencing a trigger from a deep gaping wound. Voiceless again, she shoves that secret back down to where it lives.

You didn’t mean to create this reaction. How could you know that this friend standing in front of you has such inner turmoil erupting inside of her? She took a chance on you, trusting you to just hear her cries and take her seriously without judgement or condemnation. So often when she has a moment of bravery and courage to reach out, she does so with the hope of being heard, believed and understood. She hesitates, even retracts some of the information and begins trivializing it once more.

She didn’t “know better”. She struggles with confusion and retraces her steps over the years of abuse. How could she be so trusting, so naive, as she beats herself up now too, feeling so dumb. Over time, she disappeared, even to herself. The coercion and insidiousness of what had become her life, though a little more behind her, the pain engulfs her and she desperately fights to overcome. Her friends observe from their perspective., “She’s a survivor. She’s resilient. She’s strong”. You think you see her solutions and without meaning to, the accusations fly; “if she would just abc, xyz”. “This again?” “Are you still talking about HIM/that?!” These are the worst things you can say to her. All of your well intended thoughts would cause her to retreat back to her darkness where she resides with those secrets that whittle her away.

Never dismiss her need to keep talking. There’s more that keeps emerging with every passing day as she fights for the freedom of her soul. This isn’t one of those things she can keep ignoring and hope it dissipates on its own. No, the poison has to come out with the fear from her oppression. One day you will notice the light returning to her spirit and you’ll know she is healing. Meanwhile, hear her, hug her, just be there.

They have all loved her through the battles they can see, but can you with the ones invisible to you? Is it unconditional or based on her doing what makes you more at ease? She keeps wrestling with the lies she’s been told and the battles still to overcome, wondering if there’s truth to any of it. She is telling you in her own way of her broken spirit, her beaten body, her shame, her wounds, her hurt and her survival. What she doesn’t realize is, she’s truly revealing that she is a conqueror, but she has no idea, not yet. She is still coming out of the affects of his gas lighting leaving her to think maybe she is crazy, but she’s not.

There are days she believes what you dear friend tell her with your uplifting words, but when she needs to run the thread down to the core of its root, listen compassionately, respond with love, offer the gift of your presence and allow her the dignity to process and time she needs to get to the other side. The only way for her to get through it, is to go through it, one hour, one day at a time.

When she comes to you, her heart in her hands, be the light in her darkness and a dose of love because she is running on empty. In doing this, you have given her a gift she will cherish and it reminds her she has another fight left in her…

✍🏻🧖🏼‍♀️