The Great Escape

There is a new moon on Saturday.  I will breathe deeply and exhale slowly as I make a plan to begin my life anew.

A few posts back, I mentioned a premonition I had in December about January and February, that they would be dark, dark days, that things and people would go underground, that life would be rough and it would seem as though all would be lost and that by March, it would begin to turn around again.  I didn't know at the time that March 1st would be a new moon.  I also didn't know that I would be in a different state, attempting to make a plan for my family.

Kisikelia, who has been following my blogs for many years made, the astute observation that I have sounded depressed.  Yes and no.  I never lost sight of hope and I never stopped dreaming.  I didn't want to die and I have always seen a light, however distant it seemed.  That said, I have definitely walked through a a pit of despair  I have felt lost, empty, lonely and overwhelmed.  Most poignantly, I have grieved bitterly the revelation of what I never had in my relationship with my ex spouse.  I realized, completely, how little he gave me and how  significantly troubled that relationship was because I had a comparison to hold that relationship to.

I have learned that I am awesome. I am an amazing woman that is ready for relationship and that I have so much to offer.  I have learned what works for me and what doesn't.  I have learned that some rules can be broken and that there is so much of life I have not lived yet. I have learned that there is love and hope and healing all around me. I have learned that paradigms can change but only to a degree because there are governing morals and values we individually ascribe to.  I have learned what it feels like to be accepted as I am, and to be appreciated.  I have learned that I help make a good team. I have learned that I am strong and encouraging, positive, funny and desirable. I have had so much fun and happiness.  And all of that?  I never had with my ex.

So it hasn't been drepression, it has been grief.  Hard, bitter grief and despair that I have spent so much of my life not living but believing I have lived.  I have been in a chrysalis for a long, long time but a friend, whom I will always cherish [1], showed me the way out, how to beat my wings and to take flight.[2]

I leave on Friday to travel to my home state, Pennsylvania, to knock on doors and see what I see.  I am terrified but I will make this great escape, I will fly on my new wings, I will embrace this new moon and the words of my premonition.  I will shake off the clinging dust of my grief and break the rules that should be broken.

There is a new moon on Saturday.  I will breathe deeply and exhale slowly as I make a plan to begin my life anew.



[1]For my wondertwin:  If I have seen further it is by standing on the shoulders of giants. ~Sir Issac Newton

[2] for all of my other incredible, amazing friends that have watched me grieve, hugged me, cried with me and encouraged me to get up and try again: I don't need a friend who changes when I change and who nods when I nod; my shadow does that much better. ~Plutarch

Patience Part II

Guess this is my new Sunday ritual.  I used to go to church on Sundays but now that feels like a stupid ritual.  I prefer meditating, enjoying the peace, nature, the silence in the house while the kids sleep, the sound of the wind chimes that I have hanging at both entrances to the house, the birds chirping, the wind blowing, the clock ticking. 

*takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly*

I can't put a finger on it but Sunday mornings as a single parent are the hardest, loneliest, scariest times for me.  My bed is empty.  There's no one there to hug me or kiss me awake.  No quiet pillow talk, no snuggling, no plans for brunch, no one to make coffee for, no discussions of how to spend the day as a family, no Sunday paper to share.  Just, one more day of how to make it through without feeling lonely, overwhelmed, listening to Sissy scream at me, AB pacing and talking and pacing and hugging and pacing and WG inviting all the neighbor kids over to play until she melts down because she can't actually deal with that chaos for more than few hours.  And me?  By myself, no adults, just another week of responsibility staring me in the face, my coffee getting cold, my loneliness haunting my thoughts and hugging myself hoping that human touch from at least my own arms will warm me up.

I lie to myself until I believe it (and sometimes I still don't believe it).  I tell myself that this will pass.  I tell myself that I'm a strong, amazing woman.  I tell myself that I can do this.  I tell myself that I'm not truly alone.  I tell myself that I am worth it - worth the effort, worth the price, worth the sacrifice.  I tell myself that I'm beautiful and funny and smart and loveable.  I tell myself to look around me and see all the wonderful things I've created and done with my life.  I tell myself that I am a loyal friend, a hard worker, and that I'm patient, kind, giving and selfless. I tell myself that when people think of me, they see all of these things in me and more.

Then I collapse into a heap and cry and cry and cry because I don't believe it.  I WANT to, but I don't.  I know it's true but I don't feel it.  I hear the words but I don't see it.  I give until it hurts because I want people to give back but that's not how it works, is it?  I should be pouring into myself with the same measure of love and respect that I give others but that feels counter intuitive.  It is the nature of abuse - to never believe that I am worth anything, to take blame when things don't go well even though I've done nothing wrong.  It is the lies of the years of abuse that haunt me and tell me in a louder, stronger voice that I am flawed, unlovable, worthless, wrong on all accounts, need to atone for my misdeeds in order to get the good things I want,  to believe that if I give enough I will finally be worth something.

Which is why church doesn't really fit in my thought process anymore - Christianity as whole is set on the premise that if we do good, we will have good things.  It's one more abusive paradigm in my already challenged, hurting soul.  I can't. I just can't do that anymore.  I fight so hard to keep my head steady as it is.

I wrote this poem in November.  It still applies.  I wish it didn't. I wish I could get past this hurt but no matter how hard I try to shake it off, it just keeps hurting, I keep feeling lonely, I keep feeling scared, I keep feeling like I'm missing something that will make this life turn around for me at last.  I know that just last week I was writing about hope.  I still have that hope, but today that river in my soul is muddied and murky with all the sediment and runoff from the hard things in life.

PATIENCE  (11/26/13)

copyright laws apply, this original work is the property of this blog owner.  Copying, claiming ownership or redistributing is an infringement of the author's rights and will be prosecuted.

Just hold my hand a little while
let the fear leak out my shoes.
Hold a tissue to my tears
Let the trees be my muse.

Don't say a word, the wind will talk
It whispers hope to me.
Please don't look me in the eyes
I fear what you might see.

A warm embrace might do the trick
Then I can smell your love.
The fear pummels my every thought,
A punishing iron glove.

I'm sorry that I'm broke this way,
Filled with doubt and anxiety.
I know you're never out of reach
But alone, don't let me be.

So hold my hand a little more
Please don't leave my side.
And tomorrow I will laugh again
My smile bright and wide.
 

PATIENCE

*long, drown out exhale*

deflated balloon much?  yeah.

I thought the universe had given me a green light several months ago, thought that my life had found it's course and direction finally, FINALLY and then KABLAM!

Universe is so snarky.  Pulled the carpet out from under me just as I was standing tall on my feet.  Now I'm back down on my arse and in think, plan, do mode but a little more wounded and weary.

I could get my head stuck up my butt and curl into a ball and fuss it out.  (ok, i've done that a bit already) but, all around me my friends, both virtual and real-world, have had one hell of a time lately.  It's as though universe is blowing up on all of us.  Maybe universe needs some of the love and energy back?  Kinda hard for me to do that when she's been so wretched to me.

vague enough for ya?  Wish I could be more specific.  Don't feel like I have the liberty to be brutally honest on this blog anymore.

Sissy is spiraling down again.  She will likely get another short-term placement in the next few weeks like she had in November.  Which, all things considered, is good for all of us.  I know the next few years with her as she wends her way through puberty are going to be hell but I don't really want to do it.

AB is so tall now.  So grown.  So teenager.  *rolls eyes*  But really, I can't complain.  He's a good son.  He tries hard most of the time.  he loves unconditionally.  He helps without being asked.  He just needs a lot of direction.  And redirection...and redirection.  and please, PLEASE do not put that young man in running pants because when he starts pacing, the *swish swish swish* drives me absolutely insane.

WG is all energy. I wrote this poem for her today:

 a whimsy, a sprite
she jumps with delight.
with gossamer wings
she bounces on springs
and ascends into flight

And Jennie?
Pissed.  Mad as hell.  Tired of life crapping out on me.  Tired of fighting, fighting, fighting for what I want and need.  Tired of having to reevaluate.  Tired of having to stand up for myself and my rights.  Tired of being the one with the short end of the stick.  *sigh*

Sometimes I get a premonition or "vision" or insight.  I have an intuitive nature.  Call it whatever you want to.  I know that many times I have dreams or random thoughts that pop into my mind that give me hope or energy to carry on when it gets dark (and sometimes to send energy, prayers and love to people I that are hurting).  The first week of December I had one of those premonition events.  I was in my thinking spot (the bathroom), stepping out of the shower and this:

hold on.  It's about to get really bumpy.  Everything that is working right now is going to look like it is getting turned off, shut down, like you are getting blocked out and cut off.  All of the universe's "Yes's" are going to become "No's" and it will look barren through the end of February.  Then it will turn around and the "yes's" will return but modified and better than they are now.

I don't subscribe to my intuitions as a exact measures but I also use them for hope and sometimes, guidance.  The thought of "better" yes's is good but yeah, it's dark right now!

So to all of you, because I know I'm not the only one that is hurting, in fact, just about everyone I know is hitting some gosh darned hard low spots right now, hang on.  Just hang on.  The tide will turn and we will all get back on our intended courses once more.

Just take my hand and sit with me
Make joy and mirth from misery.
We'll dance as though the day has come
When happiness joins the setting sun.

For Red 

Beloved Tennessee Walker

You made us all smile

What will I find?

I dream I had two weeks ago has stayed with me.  It has given me hope and strength.

It began at a church gathering in a fellowship hall of sorts.  People were just arriving and without any specific task to complete, they were standing around greeting one another and laughing.  I had been assigned a task but didn't know where to go as I had never been to the church before.  And because the task was nonspecific, I didn't know what I was expected to do or what person was supposed to give me directions and put me to work.

I stood in the background, assuming the proverbial wall flower posture.  A gentleman was laughing and getting along with everyone, making the social atmosphere light and easy.  Someone came up to me and said, "your husband is so funny!"

I looked at her quizzically and said, "He's not my husband."  Then I walked away, following the hall to a stairway that led me downward.  The stairwell opened into a vast, open space with floor to ceiling windows on three sides.  The view out of the windows was breathtaking.  There was a pond with manicured gardens surrounding it, a stone walkway to the left, tall reeds in the back obscuring the surrounding city vistas and an overwhelming sense of tranquility.

I walked slowly toward the glass and whispered, "wow.  that is so beautiful"  Then I saw that the room was actually the pastoral staff's private study.  I backed up and returned up the stairwell, still remarking how amazing the view had been.

At a landing on the stairway, I took a turn and ended up in a hallway filled with tables of desserts.  A frantic woman dressed in her Sunday best was talking hastily on her phone about some issue with the food preparation.  She was agitated and annoyed.  She gesticulated for me to start tending to the problem at hand, pointing in the direction of the dessert table.  I could not see any issues there which made her frustrated with me because I was clearly no help and therefore one more annoyance.  While she argued with the caller and rolled her eyes at me for not tending to her problems, I shrugged and walked away.

Feeling lost and confused but knowing I had a purpose, I wandered into a sitting room that was occupied by four women in a heated debate over some biblical study they had been doing together.  No one was in agreement and the debate went in circles with each person simply restating the ideas expressed but insisting her wording wasn't saying the same thing as the other.  I chose to interrupt, knowing I was needed somewhere to be helpful.  Asking if they could please point me in the direction of someone that was in charge, i got only blank stares.

All of these scenes and encounters left me bewildered.  A husband that wasn't mine.  I breathtaking scene that I should not have been privy too.  An angry woman that wouldn't be pacified.  A group of women arguing the same point.  A job to do but no information for how to do it or where to go or what it was or from whom I might get direction.  An overwhelming sense of loneliness and being lost but at the same time knowing I have a purpose, I needed only to keep searching on my own.

I continued to wander the seemingly endless rooms and halls.  It was as if the church was one addition after another with no true architectural clarity.  There were people hustling and bustling about or talking amongst themselves but none of them noticed me, or at the least, none were concerned that I looked lost.  Then, I entered the original sanctuary for the building.  That is to say, like some old churches, the original sanctuary is not torn down but remodeled and repurposed but the congregation meets in the new, improved sanctuary after renovation.

I stood in the empty room, the vaulted ceilings high above me.  The room was barren and plain and had a feeling of sadness, as though it had acquiesced to being an all purpose room after so many years of hand bells, pipe organs and acapella choirs.  I sighed heavily.  The contrast of the beauty in the sequestered pastoral study that was off limits to all to the ordinary, dull, now lifeless sanctuary struck me viscerally.  A sound, something like a gasp or a cry or an echo of emotion from deep within me escaped my mouth inadvertently.

Then the plaster walls began to dissolve and fall away, silently.  The ceiling drifted slowly to the floor like snowflakes.  People began to enter the room but said nothing.  They just watched with me.

Falling, falling, the room around me was transformed.  Above me ascended the most ornate and breathtaking masonry.  Chiseled archways high above the pews, stained glass windows even higher still, a belfry and pipes from a long since forgotten organ, all of it, for everyone, covered up, hidden and taken for granted.

"Wow" someone said.

"I didn't know all of this was here." another said.

"did YOU do this?" another asked of me.

Slowly, a smile crept across my face as the last of the plaster fell to the floor, the dust still floating in the air, now illuminated by the sunlight filtering through the stained glass windows.  I had found my purpose: to find the hidden beauty in the loss and pain and give it back to everyone that needs it.



I'm not sure what the dream means but it fills me with so much hope.  I know that as my immediate future looks uncertain and I approach huge changes with trepidation, it will be beautiful ... for everyone that needs it.  I know that the wandering and the feelings of loss and loneliness, uselessness and frustration, thinking that I don't belong - that I'm a fish out of water, will fade away and though there be special places for a select few, the more beautiful things in life are those that are available to everyone.  The discovery and revelation is what makes the journey, though it be hard and long, worth it.

Toward beauty I will set my path
To things of good and not of wrath.
To Hope and Grace,
With gentleness
I will find my joy at last.

New Moon

Wednesday is a new moon.  According to astrology charts, it will be the first official moon cycle for the new year.  That means the last moon phase was actually the end-of-the-year moon cycle.  Which explains a lot.

Everyone I have talked to has agreed, this past week has been really tough.  In fact, most people are nodding their heads, some weepily, that the last four weeks have been hard. Emotions, finances, transitions, relationships, jobs, all of it has brought pain and struggle.  And though I don't subscribe wholly to the stars, as in, it's not a religion for me, I do submit to the truth that there is cosmic influence and at the very least, some gravitational affect the moon has on the balance of energy here on Earth.

For SCIENCE, of course. ;)

I've been on a life odyssey of sorts for the last year.  In particular, the last six months have been a real bender for me.  My IRL friends know the story but I'll refrain from posting it here.  I have received so much passion, joy and happiness and it has changed me, for the better.  At the same time, I have grieved and mourned my losses once more but at an entirely new depth.  It is hard to grieve for something you didn't know you were missing, an element or two required to make your life happy, whole and functional, until you stumble upon such treasures and the AHA moment smacks you dead in the face.

The sad truth of my life, is that I have had so little of what I have needed.  In fact, I haven't been capable of acknowledging my needs because I didn't know what I needed or that I was allowed to have needs as opposed to being a subservient entity beholden to the wants and needs of others.  Such is the dastardly toll of abuse on the psyche.  When I was in therapy, my counselor urged me to stop and think about what I needed in the moment, in my daily life, and to secure a consistent happy, bright, functional future for me and my children.  Although I listened and acknowledged her advice, I could never wrap my head around what that process should look like.

Now I know.  At least, I have a much better sense of what I need.  It will likely morph a bit more as I continue to grow and move in this positive direction but as long as I'm moving and not stagnating, I'm still on a good path.

One thing that gives me pause, is how little people stop to reflect and contemplate for themselves.  It is as though I've opened my eyes for the first time and see, REALLY see what is around me.  The juxtaposition of beauty and pain in life which ultimately still makes it beautiful, is the most poignant vantage point. I've learned to sort through the struggles and internalize only those things which have made me better, stronger or given me positive energy and propelled me in a forward direction.  Another is that I've learned when we accept the light in others, dismissing their own dross and negative energy, we can achieve a purer perspective in relationship.  We are sentient beings, made from the same carbon that came from stars and one day we will be returned to the earth, but our spirits, from whence they come I'll leave you to make your own declaration, will remain to convene long after our mortal forms have regenerated into a new energy source.  If we embrace the energy we give each other and that resides within one another, we will achieve a higher level of understanding.  And I believe this personal achievement makes it possible for each of us to recognize, accept and then discover what our flaws and strengths are and what energy we need from one another to remain happy and whole despite the trials the cosmic energy of the universe will send our direction.

That's a head full of HRPuff'NStuff, I know.  And for some of you, you may be thinking I've gone off the deep end, started smoking something and denounced my faith in God.  Nothing could be further from the truth.  God came to give us life, and give it to us more abundantly.  It is written in scripture that He knows the plans he has for us, plans to prosper and not to fail.  So why don't we have abundant life and why do we feel like we fail?  I  believe it is because of the inherent truth I discussed, because we don't receive the positive energy from one another, from the creatures of the earth, from the living things all around us, from the rocks and the water, from the fire and the air.  It's all here, right within our grasp, and yet we ignore it, go within ourselves, shut others out because we received their negative energy and didn't let it go, or because it has gotten so dark in our hearts and our lives that we forget we bring our own light.  You can call that light, God, if that is your paradigm, just don't ignore the inherent truths in what I'm saying.

Namaste - the light in me bows to the light in you

Try that on for a while.  See how that shoe fits.  Embrace only the positive in everything and everyone.  The moon will cycle again and in 28 days from this Wednesday, you may find yourself on one more journey toward your peace, hope and happiness.  In the meantime, try out new things to capture that energy.  Burn incense or do a sage smudge.  Light candles and send out positive energy to your friends in need.  Create beautiful things in what ever fashion you create, then give it away just because. Burn a fire and let the flickering flames speak truth to you or open your heart to release the pain. Play different types of music than you are used to or CREATE music with instruments. Spend time with animals of every shape and size, just pet them and receive their warmth.  Release your fears and do something you've been afraid to try.  Do something completely out of your paradigm just because you can - i promise, it won't hurt.  Some rules were made to be broken. Give forgiveness to those that you have hurt because letting go of that negativity will set you free.  If you are owed an apology, open your hands, let it go and then shake it out.  Spend time in nature embracing the breath and life in the elements around you.  Laugh, love, sing, dance, meditate, breathe.

It is my gift to you, dear readers, that though I have loved and lost once more, I will give again and again and again.   Learn and grow with me and together we will be free ... and happy.

When the Happy Well Dries Up

It is a cruel game of the gods and universe to suck dry the Happy Well just when I was basking in my reflection of the shimmering waters.

I have spent the last month crying nearly every day.  Sometimes sobbing.    There have been moments of happy, true, but so much of it has been overshadowed by my grief, anger and loneliness.

My overwhelming daily responsibilities have caught up with me, once again.  Try as I might, it has become increasingly difficult to wade through the challenges with the same positive energy and fervor I had just a few months ago.  I am acutely aware how much I need other positive people in my daily life and then painfully stung by the truth that I have so few available to me within my real world circle.

Happy mornings and fun-filled evenings have kept me living, breathing, smiling but it has not been upon my own strength that I have found that hope.  So I grieve that I have still, STILL not found the strength in myself to be happy without help of another.

And I grieve that, try as I might, I really LIKE the help and hope others give.

It is an indeterminable loop, it seems.  If I can not rely solely upon myself, then I will be a drain and burden on others.  But if I rely solely upon myself, then I crack from the weight of the burden.  Surely there is a balance?  I have yet to find it.

This year I turn 40.  The proverbial midlife crisis, that I thought had already swooped in and devoured me in the divorce and thus was breezing past me, licking my face with the last few blasts of stiff wind, has just now settled in and taken root.  I have no health insurance.  I have no retirement. I have no benefits.  I have no savings.  I live day-to-day, month-to-month.  I have the responsibility of parenting two disabled persons for the rest of my life.  I am alone every morning when I wake up and every night when I go to bed.  And all of it rests on my head.

Some people have said I'm incredibly strong and amazing and awesome and such.  Which is a lovely compliment, indeed.  But I can't be Atlas, carrying the weight of the world ad nauseum.  I am female.  I LIKE being feminine but I have the hardest time balancing femininity and my responsibility because I have to be so strong all.the.time.  I want to be pretty and cherished, loved and petted.  Adored and fawned over.  Sometimes.  Once in a while.  That seems so impossible when I'm carrying so much.  And when I'm alone, even more so.

I understand that life is life, that we all have struggles and burdens, that there is not one soul that treads the Earth without turmoil, loss, heartache and pain.  But I also understand that there is a path in life that I can find that will make the journey less burdensome and more happy.  I know this because I've had a taste of it, because I have within me the power to sustain my joy and hope AND carry my burdens.  I just have to find a way to do it by myself.

I have some big plans ahead, and although I'm running on empty already, I'm going to dig that well deeper ONE.MORE.TIME.  I'm going to find that underground spring under the bedrock of my despair, tap into it and watch my well fill again. 

I have recently learned that there is so much life out there to live that I have not experienced.  I'm on a quest to capture it.

I have learned that there are amazing, wonderful people out there that are just as eager to be positive and pour into other humans as I am.  I will join hands with them and commune in like spirit.

I have seen that my children and I can be happy when I do these things.  I will hold that truth close to my heart and I will not stop until I see it's fruition.

As I sobbed myself to sleep Friday night, my eyes swollen, my pillow soaked, my head throbbing, I settled myself with the final image of happy, like-minded people dancing, singing, laughing and simply living, enjoying each other and life despite the trials while we sat around a blazing fire.  I put myself into that scene and soaked up the positive energy and at last I slept.

1. I am not going to Orlando Retreat this year.  I will be using that time away from home for ME only.

2. I am applying to as many schools as I can find in the North East U.S. that have a Graduate and PhD program in education and preferably in states that will accept my GA provisional certificate and my years of education experience so I can continue my career while I go back to school

3.  I am doing some final repairs to the house and finding someone, anyone, to buy out the principle and my former spouse's remaining equity line borrowed against the house

4.  I am getting myself and my children to a new life, to the amazing friends I've made over the years so my real-life circle of people becomes broader and more stable

5.  I am embracing the hope and joy I have tasted and running toward it, blindly maybe, but running full tilt.

I can not, will not, am not capable of, carrying this burden by myself in Georgia, with challenged children whose needs go unmet, in an economy that I can not get MY needs met and living a lifestyle where I am alone all.the.time.

A beautiful friend, who gives such wonderful hugs, told me several months ago that I am so, so, so worth it.  She said that she hopes I find someone who reminds me of that truth every minute of every day just how true that is.  Today, I am going to be that person for myself.  I am going to tell myself every minute of eery day that I am worth it.  I am enough. I am not alone.  I am.

And then I'm going to go find my happy and steal it back from the Universe and the gods that think it's so gosh darned funny to let me have a taste and see the beauty of it all and then take it away from me again. 

Darkness Leads to Happiness

I didn't know what to do.  Oddly, climbing into the back of the closet in the master bedroom, arranging the hanging clothing over me so I could not be seen, made sense.  I sat with my knees drawn up to my chest, hugging them tightly.  A shoe or boot was wedged under my bottom, creating a dull pain and slight tingling sensation from localized numbness.  I didn't move it to get more comfortable.  The constant ache was comforting because it meant I was still alive, still feeling, still real.

I sat in the closet for what seemed like hours, in the darkness, listening to myself breathe.  I tried to think.  I couldn't.  All I wanted to do was sob until the end of time.  I had gotten myself into a real jam and I didn't know how to get out.  Well, I did know.  I just didn't think it was an acceptable life path.  I feared further human disdain.

Fear.  That is my Shadow.  Gandolf the Grey didn't want to go into the Mines of Moria because he feared Shadow.  He was so paralyzed that it nearly claimed his life on the tower in his confrontation with Sauron. Uncertain of his strength, he allowed Frodo to decide the path the Fellowship would take when they were being tracked by the eye of Sauron.  Frodo led them into the mines.   Shadow took Gandolf into Darkness on that journey.

I knew, sitting in that closet, breathing as quietly as I could so I would not be heard or found, that one day I would survive and, though scathed, become like Gandolf the White, having conquered my Shadow.  I knew it.  I didn't feel it, couldn't see it or taste it.  I only heard my heart pounding in my ears as the fear consumed me once more.  Because he found me.  And demanded to know why I was hiding, that I was being childish - wives don't hide in closets from their husbands, they deal with the issues at hand.  Husbands don't make their wives so afraid that they need to hide, bad wives run.  Bad wives ask for a divorce.  Bad wives call things abuse when they are afraid because they don't know any better.  And that is slander and ridicule and how dare I accuse him of such an offense and didn't I know how that looked for him and how it made HIM feel?

Not once did he ask what would make me so upset that I felt like hiding was the best option.  Not a hug, not a "we'll sort this through", not "i love you.  Let's get help".  Not a back rub or a warm meal or a pot of tea.  No comfort.  No love.  Just more hate and hurt.

That was six months into my marriage. Christmas Time.

Fifteen years later, I finally had the strength to go into the Darkness and take back my life.  Christmas Time.

Why didn't I fight for my freedom sooner?  Because of religion and abuse. Divorce is against God's way.  Divorce means marrying another is adultery.  Divorce means sin and unforgiveness.  Divorce means I made a mistake and didn't follow God's path for my life.  I didn't know that divorce because of abuse absolved me of all of that.  I didn't understand that my fear of confrontation and what he kept telling me was just my simple misunderstanding of his needs, was  actually because the relationship was abusive. I didn't understand that every time I was happy and he got angry or sullen, it was abuse.  I didn't know that abuse had eight levels.  I didn't know that I suffered on all levels.  I didn't know anything beyond I was being a bad christian because I was hurting and seeking an answer that wasn't God's Way.

What I ultimately internalized, inadvertently, is that religion is also abusive.

....................................................................................................................................................

In the nine months that this blog was inactive, I was still finding my way out of Darkness.   I didn't know it would take me all the way down to seeking the end of my life.  The finalization of the divorce was very difficult.  The judge was cruelly unfair.  Not one person doesn't still shake their head in a preponderance of confusion over the judge's final decisions.  It left me stuck.  Stuck to continue facing my tormenter, in my home, three and four days a week and for weekend visitations with the children every other month.  It has me bound to this house with his name still on the mortgage.  It has me paying accrued marital debts. It cut me to the core of faith, of hope, of everything that gave me reason to live.

On the eve of my annual trip to Orlando with the ETAAM/BeTA group, I begged to die.  I was left alone in my house with the children, my self-help reminders, written, taped and painted on my bedroom walls serving as one more reminder that I was never to be happy.  Never.  I'm not allowed to be happy.  I'm not allowed freedom. I'm not allowed hope or health or healing.   I had written Phil 4:3, "Do not be anxious about anything but in everything by prayer and petition submit your requests to God and the peace of God which transcends all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus."

I went to the garage, grabbed a can of white paint and a brush and proceeded to blot it out, starting with "submit your requests to God".

I proceeded to the bathroom where I had painted, "Change = Good" and "Live, Laugh, Love, Pray"  They were blotted out too.

I tore down all of the mandalas I had colored for therapy.

I ripped up my "Who Am I" poster.

I scratched out all the proverbs and verses I had written in pen on whatever spare patch of wall I could find.

I paused when I ripped the drawing I made with the Chinese proverb, "my barn having burned to the ground, now I can see the moon"

I had employed tools from every faith and walk of life, every religion, every positive ounce of energy I had collected like broken shells and river rocks with marbleized patterns and it gained me nothing.  I was trapped.  Stuck.  Never to be free.  Justice had not served me at. all.  Mankind, MAN, had failed me once more.  And religion? It didn't save me either.

I was back in that bedroom closet, hiding, sheltering myself from a storm I couldn't protect myself from.  A storm that had no end.  My honesty, my kindness, compassion and hope meant nothing.  It gained me NOTHING.  Why be good? Why pray?  Why believe?  Why?  There is no out.  If you are meant to suffer in this life, then suffer you will.  

I ripped up the drawing in a blind rage.  Shreds. There was nothing left but tiny scraps to gather later.  I collapsed in a heap and sobbed for hours.  I was convinced I would never be happy.  That it was my lot in life to suffer and endure and pay for my past sins from a former life or for someone else in my ancestry or just because the cosmos willed that I should be in the fire until I disintegrated, literally burning until I ceased to exist.

The next day I drove to the airport to pick up one of my friends from the ETAAM/BeTA group so we could drive to Orlando together.  She slept in my bed with me that evening, the torment and pain still very fresh on bedroom walls.  She let me cry.  She didn't stop me.  She didn't tell me it would be O.K.  She was just there.

When we arrived in Orlando, I went to my room in the Villa, crawled into a corner of the room, half under the bed, and sobbed, begging to die.

Another amazing woman got me and held me until I could breathe.

A third woman slept in my bed for the weekend so I wouldn't be alone because I was afraid I would hurt myself.

A fourth woman gave me her beautiful scarf.

A fifth woman said I had such a peaceful nature about me, and she meant it.

I made it through the weekend.  I drove home.  I drove my friend back to the airport.  I resumed my life.  For better or for worse.

I took one day at a time, sometimes one minute.  Sometimes I could go a full hour without needing to call someone for comfort and love.

The days turned into weeks.  The weeks turned into a month, then two.

I was still living.  Still surviving.  Still breathing.  I had made it through Darkness.  I had conquered Shadow.  I had become Jennie the White.  I didn't even know it had happened.  It just did.

In May I redid my bathroom and my bedroom, the hallway and replaced all the doors.  All of the holes my ex had punched in, patched.  The broken door jamb from his angry slamming in one fight, repaired.  The house became mine.  I breathed it in - my beautiful energy created beautiful things in my home.  And that was only possible because I am beautiful, to my core.  Despite what I have suffered, I am beautiful to my very last cell.

Summer came and with each day, as I closed and opened my new doors, as I slept in my new bedroom and showered in my new bathroom, as I swam in the pool with my children, as I breathed and lived and laughed, I found happy. A tentative, cautious, careful happy.  A real happy.  A happy I had never had before.

Hope followed it.
And health.
Healing.
Dreams.
Singing.
Music.
Love.

It is Christmas Time.  I am not inside a church because I haven't figured out how to reincorporate that element yet, but I have life.  I am happy.

If there is one gift I can give, it is that you find this HAPPY somewhere.  Anywhere.  Please.  Just find it.  And don't let it go.  Do all you can to keep it.  Forever.