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Truly letting go.

Truly letting go is the hardest thing to do. You may go through all types of mental and physical trauma because you have to let go. The only reason of the trauma is because it had been a part of you for so long that is has become part of the cellular structure. Your blood line. So letting go is not going to to take just walking away. You have to clean yourself from the inside and out. To begin with the inside, make water your main source of liquid inside and out. Begin to blend and not cook your vegetables. This way your body will process that chlorophyll and sugars more easily. That is physical fasting. Then meditate to ease your mind. Begin to pray. Take back your personal space and revamp what God has made. Everything He created is good. Yup He said it in His Word. Get better. Be Better

MANIC TURKEY DAY!

Sometimes I think I am going to die from a broken heart. Always looking for someone to love me in the right way. But they have to understand me in order to love me. They can never think that I will be the same person all the time. Anyway, Today is Thanksgiving. HAPPY THANKSGIVING TO YOU AND YOURS. My experiences with Thanksgiving have never been good ones. Especially after the death of my Father which meant the death of my FAMILY. Not that I am in panic mode because I have to cook or assist cooking for a large family but the panic mode in me turns into a manic mode. I am all in my head about the fact that I really don't want to be here. I wish I was dead. It is something about this holiday, and my birthday that makes me sad, angry depressed and all the other disgruntled feelings you can imagine. I sometimes even crawl into these crying fits. I always think about the first time I had a manic episode.

1993. I was so quiet that no one even knew something was going on. I sat at the dining room table with all my friends and family laughing and joking. All of a sudden, I zoned out. I was no longer there at the table with my friends and family. I was in another zone.  Not that I planned for this to happen but it did. I left the table to go upstairs to my room. I fell into a crying fit that I could not get out of . So quiet no one even came to check up on me. I just wanted my Dad. I really missed him. I just wanted to be with him. I changed my clothes and went to sleep. I woke up. I said to myself, "I can't take this no more". My heart was done. My mind was clear. My body was ready. I got up out of my bed and went into the bathroom. I found some rubbing alcohol. I mixed with water. Before I left my room, I had taken all of the antidepressants the doctor had prescribed to me after my Father died. Two bottles of pills and then I drank the alcohol. (You are not supposed to do that mix at all it should cause devastating effects.) I laid down, went back to sleep never expecting to get up ever again. I was finally going to be free from the pain I felt in my heart. I don't remember all that happened after that. Only what people told me. I woke the next day and when I came to, I was in a hospital room in a bed. Looked around and I was seeing things/ having hallucinations. I thought I was in purgatory :). But I did not get up being thankful that I was still alive. Just like the night my Dad died, it all went quiet. I didn't know what to do now that I was still alive. Here I am Thanksgiving 25 years later and the right side of my brain is blown up like a balloon. My heart is palpitating. Head in my hand. Crying.

 I am trying my best to work through it.So to begin to change it, I decided to write about it. Not that it makes me feel any better but it releases some of the tension resonating in my body.

But I see still no one understands the pain and heartache of a person who experiences trauma, betrayal, rejection, abandonment. We can talk about it all day. We can have group sessions and community walks. We hear about it but don't take actions to actually change our minds about how we want to live not realizing that we have the rest of our lives to CHANGE IT. If I knew then what I know now, that I have the rest of my life to LIVE IN GREATNESS. Thanksgiving 2018 would be different.  I can change the way my Thanksgiving goes but the wall of rejection is up so high I can't even break it down to walk right over it. But one day, maybe today I will be able to calm down without drinking my tension tamer tea and meditating the subconscious life killing thoughts away. That takes strong self discipline. Change is hard but so far I have benefited from it.  My Dad will never come back. My family may not all get together all at one time. I may never see my old friends again. This is one day out of 365 not the rest of my life. I will be good. Because this is only a remnant of what is left over after being freed from depression and suicide. God will work it out. I put it out for all the world to read. So something has to transform. 

Anyway HAPPY THANKSGIVING TO YOU ALL. I pray you all stay sane in this time of year.

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Dear Jesus, Its Me

My Third grade teacher told me to write letters. In my head I said write letters? Write letters to who? I was just learning about Pen Pals at the time. Sister said write letters to Jesus. Again in my head I said write letters to who? All I knew was Mary the Mother of Jesus was the one who I prayed to. Jesus was my friend. Write letters to my friend Jesus? Yes Sister said. I guess she knew that I was going through something, Everyday I’d come to school by lunchtime I was sad. I guess it was on my face because I sure wasn’t a cry baby. At the time I didn’t have any friends. By the third grade I was deemed to be unfit to “hang out” because I was not a clean cut girl. For me, I did not think that I was poor, maybe more or less unkempt because it was so much stuff going on at home. 

No one ever told me not to tell. It was just assumed fearful of what would happen if I did. Some say feelings don’t matter. The Bible says “spare the rod, spoil the child”. But through my eyes and my heart, the rod was not spared at all. Daddy used it a lot. Nevertheless, physically it hurt but no scars were apparent enough for someone to scream “ABUSE”. The mental scars though would hold me captive for the first half of my life. 

Some things a child never forgets. It is not really what they think in their heads about it. It is always what is in their hearts which is associated with the feeling s of the mishap. For me, life was hard as I lived in fear every day. So much that fear became a part of my expectation to want to live. There were five of us children in the home. All of us experienced Daddy in a different darkness. 

Our address was 1520 north Peach Street. We moved there when I was 5 years old. I went there when we were just looking at the house with the landlord. They picked me up from school and took me there.  I ran through the house like a giddy little girl. I was so excited!  I ran upstairs to the back room. I looked out the back window and saw this gigantic tree. I was so amazed! The back yard was huge. I had never seen anything like that before. I didn’t know that it was ours. That we were going to live there. I was just excited. 

When we finally moved in, it was kind of scary so we all slept downstairs in the living room. Eventually we got our beds and our room. Mommy and Daddy slept in the front room and we slept in the middle room. Daddy used the back room as a rehearsal spot for him and the band. The house was so full of music. I felt so much joy in my heart all the times I heard the band playing. They were good too. I had never been to one of Daddy’s shows. Maybe then I was too young but I sure enjoyed the rehearsals.