Reflection over my life so far, I’ve learned to run after a positive mindset. Greatly wanting to live this way, but always battling with it. I can give kudos and be outwardly uplifting with an abundance of encouragement, for you. This is who I am. This is what I do. But what about me? Where is that self care and love component to gift myself?
They tell me self forgiveness and acceptance is how I will achieve this. Then I go down the rabbit hole where the misery lives. It’s dark and damp, with cobwebs and it kind of smells like death. I don’t purposely fall down in there. I do allow others to trample my heart and that’s when I find myself climbing out yet again.
So far spending time getting reacquainted with me has been both enlightening and disappointing at the same time. Regret is not a common word in my vocabulary. I’ve enough emotional recovery and healing to understand the positive influence every experience has had on my spirit. Then I tend to combat it with a negative connotation because this is how I have been conditioned. Trained out of deserving peace and comfort, even joy. At least on a more often than not basis. That can be debilitating and quite depressing.
I’ve come to dislike those positive memes. Don’t send me the rainbows and unicorns with puppies and kitties telling me to have a bright sun shiny day. Those don’t resonate with me. I need to know that I’ve walked through some hard fucking shit and I am a survivor. In other words, remind me how far I’ve come and that I am ok!
I know this too shall pass and all the other quirky slogans I’ve learned and implemented into my everyday living, but most days I simply need to just be authentically me. A craft I have yet to perfect and likely never will, but my ultimate goal… to be comfortable in my own damn skin. Finding that balance between my own satisfaction and happiness while participating in this event called life. Is it always going to be a chore or will I wake up one day and everything will magically just smooth out? I highly doubt that and I am curious to know the antidote. Meanwhile I will just keep on keeping on, loving you with my whole heart as I work to gift this to myself.
She was tenacious when it came to believing what she thought she needed, and that was him. Far beyond their expiration date and her tolerance of his neglect and torment she clung. White knuckling the life she fantasized, the tighter her grip, the more relentless he became. The addiction cycle prevailed as the destruction and demise ensued.
Breathing had transformed into a chore, labored and choking. His twisted beliefs ravaged her every thought, move and decisions that were no longer hers to make. He had devoured her and she was consumed. Her immediate response to his touch, his words and especially his body language, was to never disappoint him while completely betraying herself.
She had found herself tethered to this neurotic, sadistic human, whom she would discover was really an empty, wounded, broken shell. His pain inside ignored heightened his desire to inflict it upon her. Emotionally, physically and especially psychologically as he pulled her cuffs tighter, his noose around her neck cinched as she gulped. She was his kept property.
How could she break free of the restraints and stay by his side? She could only dream, and that’s all she ever did. Her body was not her own. She had long since detached from it. How else could she endure this life she found herself in?
He was good at this game. Distracting her from her own mind. Convoluting his words while mincing them with his actions. Was she crazy? Could he be right? Did she not hear what he truly meant? Her brain on fire as she worked to read between the transcripts of their one sided conversations. He’s a bully, she thought to herself. More than the mean kid on the playground. Is that where it started with him? She wondered.
She struggled daily to analyze the two of them. Her heart longed for what it could never receive. Her brain constantly reconciling with what was happening. Maybe he’s right. She is the broken little girl inside after all. She must be the one who needs fixing so she will continue to abide by his every rule and expectation of her. Keep working for his love, attention and affection is what she told herself.
This ball of yarn, tattered and worn, had become her sacred space to cling to now. Somewhere, deeply within it, was holding her hope. How will she find it and retrace her way back? She knows she has battle scars and wounds running deep. She didn’t come out of this unscathed, but going from victim to survivor has been her only goal these days. She’ll keep talking and writing until that skein is down to its last bit of what has her bound still. Until then, she’ll do what it takes to unravel the mass of devastation. His secretive ways being revealed, unveiling them for her sanity, saving her soul.
A big stretch up to the sky as dawn kisses her cheek. Good morning she says, aloud to the silence. She greets each day with a grateful heart. Deep breath in and a long exhalation of the past that sometimes haunts her still.
With another gift, an abundance of love, she questions the validity of her life. Her purpose she thought she once knew, rendered obsolete, nothing was true. Being reminded by this fragrance and that special place, letting go isn’t so easy, but necessary to keep on breathing.
Today is less about the loss of what was as more emphasis is put on the freedom she is reluctant to feel, but now is. She watches them while she sees the light flicker in their eyes. Others who pay her the attention she was always instructed to ignore. She smiles back at them now and then, yet inside, deeply feeling rejection towards all.
Too soon or too late, she is where she is, growing and learning simply wanting new friends. No longer seeking that white knighted, makeshift alpha or fake savior. Becoming comfortable with her own company while she continues to blossom and bloom. They don’t understand, although some say they do, that her completeness comes from the brokenness within.
You set the pace in this rugged little rat race I turned for a moment stuck in the torment This seductive game I couldn’t be contained Shrewd yet so weak pretending I was meek Calling your bluff in your ridiculous cuffs Rolling my eye no more tears left to cry Pathetic to any shunned by many Digging your way down buried underground I laugh at you now with your furrowing brow Disapproval lashing about fuck off hear my shout This battle is over the war won covers me in clover Flourishing in joy no longer your ragged little toy Dead soul torn apart what once held your heart You’ve lost much more than I gave you credit for Etched upon my brain your turn to feel such pain It all began with you telling me nothing ever true Blood boiling red your skin peeling so to shed Addiction is your enemy but I however am set free Taunt me more believe what you don’t know Hell is where you reside not a soul on your side Only in the wake of your demise you fall not rise Me on the other hand unstoppable taking a stand Tell me again once more with conviction about honor respect and love Oh wait that’s right yours is only a contradiction You taught me more than I ever bargained for Let me praise Him for pushing me out the door Stop listening to his demands Only the righteous One commands The world will shout but the Man whispers about “Get off his back Get out of God’s way Get on with your life” Get it? Got it? Good!
Those lies, the ones they told me, I’m learning to rewrite the words in a way that inspires rather than devours me. In a word, or 4, I am a good person.
Ever get tired of listening to the sound of your own voice? The one that rattles on inside the corners of your mind? As I begin to take captive these very objective thoughts, I practice re-recording them. Now when I begin to play them back, I hear my voice, my truths, my consoling love and I let go. Capturing the simplicity and compassion I’ve longed for.
It isn’t in another where I seek and draw from the soothing joy I find within. I watch my daughter struggle with her inner being as she wrestles the demons that have haunted her, but she is all knowing. She always has been. She is a conqueror, a warrior and she’s afraid sometimes, but she rises up to take on the challenges of another day. I admire her completely. I support her in the ways she needs and I step back while she finds her way.
My life has been that incessant rollercoaster. This child of mine is most like me of all. She’s witnessed her mom’s struggles and has even inherited many of my my traits. She is fiercely independent yet welcomes a hand up from her trusted allies. I embrace this journey she is on, loving her with absolute unconditional love while I learn by listening.
Even though she tells me not to be, I’m often apologetic for not seeing through her pain early in her life. I’m your mom I tell her, I knew instinctively of your hurting, but what it was I couldn’t figure out. I thank her for trusting me now. For being the bravest young person I’ve ever known. One who has courage when her fear stops her in her tracks, paralyzing her from taking a step on any given day, but somehow managing the next breath. In a world that is more divided, cannot accept diversity and is extremely judgmental, she perseveres. I tell her she has been blessed with this gift to do great things.
As my granddaughter and I walked up to join my daughter in line at the pharmacy yesterday, a woman in front had been chatting with her as they stood patiently awaiting their turn. She smiled at me as I took my place next to her and this kind, older lady asked, “is this your son? I was just saying there’s a twin in here that looks just like”… she trailed off, I felt my heart thump as this was my first encounter, an opportunity to practice my reply. I smiled at my daughter, hesitated, wanting to feel natural and proudly correct her, when the words, “they’re with me” escaped my lips just as my 9 year old granddaughter confidently spoke up, pointing at her dad, correcting the lady’s mistake… “her daughter”, she told the woman. “Ohh, sorry” her words apologetic and sincere. Both my daughter and I beamed as we looked at this unwavering little girl. We should all be so matter of fact, straightforward and honest.
She taught me a valuable lesson in that simple display of assuredness. This is not something to make any sort of issue out of, unless you choose to. Wisdom comes from the most untouched of places. I stood in awe and felt my heart swell in admiration. Life is as simple or difficult as we make it be.