I would sooner tear the beating heart from own breast than do harm to an innocent soul.
However, if their intent is harm against my child then I will spare nothing in my pursuit of justice.
If living clings to her or them, then she will live and I’ll meet them in hell.
I haven’t written for a while, I’ve been too afraid, afraid not of others’ comments or reactions but of my own. I’ve also been too busy to write, too busy wallowing in self pity, getting mired in the past and way too busy facing some truths that I never even wanted to consider. Fear is my biggest enemy and I’ve been kicking it’s ass something fierce lately.
Dad – you sick fuck.
My ex-husband – I wish I could have helped you but I was way too screwed up myself, leaving you was the very best I could do for both of us.
M – maybe I pushed too hard too soon, you weren’t ready to fly. Thank God for second chances.
E – I wasn’t fully present enough and didn’t push you hard enough, I’m so glad that has changed.
Myself – I am strong, kind, loving. I am alive, I am human and I am perfect in my imperfection. I will strive to always do better than I have. My life hasn’t been perfect but it’s way past time to get over it.
To the rat in the barn – thank you for your ugly words, they made me face my ugly truth.
There is so much more to life and I’m done letting fear stop me from finding it.
Daily Prompt: Landscape.
When you gaze out your window — real or figurative — do you see the forest first, or the trees?
I see the forest but then quickly become lost in the essence of the individual tree. The beauty of the branches, the wonder of the buds, the protection of the canopy of leaves, the strength and longevity of the tree, the scars she bears, all are part of the energy she emits.
Some trees are more powerful than others. My backyard elm has helped heal my wounded soul many times. There is a tree on my walk that I go to when I am especially depleted. He is very large, and very old, very scarred and should be ugly, but he is divine, his scars take my breath away in their beauty. The ground beneath him hums with energy and he radiates power.
I see the forest, but each tree is sacred, a gift from God, a channel for the powerful healing energy within the earth.
Spring has finally arrived and I could not be more estatic! I think our temperature soared to twenty-four degrees celcius yesterday and my partner and I, with a group of other like-minded souls from our HOG (Harley Owner’s Group), spent most of the day in worship.
I very seldom attend church, it has never been part of who I am. I didn’t even get baptized until I was twenty three, and that was with a great deal of trepidation. I told the priest I wasn’t much of a church goer and he told me that doesn’t really matter since:
For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.
I go a little further than that, I have a personal relationship with God. I talk to the Creator daily, often, and give thanks randomly throughout the day, whenever I see something amazing – which of course is very often.
Being out on the motorcycle yesterday was worship for me. The sky was blue for as far as the eye could see in every direction. The sun shone down and warmed us, the breeze was light and carried promise. The roads were clear, traffic was light and seven Harleys roared their joy in worship of the open road.
Yesterday, that was my church, the ceiling was bright blue sky that didn’t end. I could not breathe in the air without exhaling thanks to the glory of our Creator. My God is so expressive and abundant in his beauty that it takes my breath away.
Another Thank You Lord, for yesterday was a balm to my soul.
I am at a loss right now. I don’t have any more rants to write, I got out what needed to be said for now, I’m sure more will come up later, that’s the thing with dealing with past trauma, you think you are over it and then suddenly it pops up like a whack-a-mole. Well, I’ve hammered it down for now and don’t feel the need to talk about it anymore. (At least for now!) Plus, I have apparently discovered a rat in the grain and need to figure out who it is, either that or “unknown” is just lying and trying to upset me.
I also have a confession to make. I didn’t plant my seeds this year. I got the room all ready, got the pots and potting soil, got all the seeds and then the weather sucked so badly I couldn’t bring myself to plant the seeds. So, I guess I will just prepare the larger garden this year without planting it all, and buy a few vegetable plants that I can’t live without. It’s raining out today and the snow is almost all gone from my yard, now I’m really kicking myself for not starting those seeds.
I discovered a few things recently: that even the written word has the power to make me sick, there is no mistaking the gut feeling I get when I feel somehow threatened, most people in my blogosphere are kind, supportive people, and the need to moderate comments before they are posted is now clear.
Thanks for reading.
A couple of my recent posts – So The Psychiatrist Said…, and How Far Is Too Far, garnered some interesting speculation. I was particularly interested in one of the negative comments and have put part of my answer to it in this post.
Let me begin by saying that my words are not harming my children, they are fifteen and nineteen, not five and nine years old, they are old enough to understand that standing up and speaking out about injustice is not a bad thing, it is a necessary thing. Secondly, I’m their mother, they have never read and have no interest in reading my blog, as far as they are concerned I don’t really exist outside of the realm of “mother”. Besides, why should I keep my experience with abuse quiet from them? They are two girls, in a group of three, one of them will be a victim of abuse in their lifetime. Hopefully mine will have learned from me that abuse is not acceptable.
At least I’m damn sure I’m no longer willing to keep my mouth shut because what i say may make someone else feel uncomfortable. You should feel uncomfortable. Abuse is more than uncomfortable, it destroys lives and families, it harms society as a whole and it will take the whole of society to stand up and put an end to it.
F.U. secrets, I’m standing up and shouting out. How dare you tell me not to?
Tell us about a book you can read again and again without getting bored — what is it that speaks to you?
via Daily Prompt: Second Time Around.
I have a few books I have read more times than I can count. The first book is Stephen King’s ‘The Stand’. My first copy was a paperback which I still have, tattered and torn, missing its covers, but still the one I pick up even though I have the hardcover as well. I like the writing for one, King is a Master without doubt. The story grabs me and doesn’t let go till I’m finished it, I know how the story unfolds, I know what comes next and I love knowing where it goes. The story is an epic battle between Good and evil, Good wins, that’s important to me.
Another of my favourites is Jane Austen’s ‘Pride and Prejudice. I go in stages where I read nothing but horror or mystery or deep, dark, heavy works, and then I need to read Pride and Prejudice. It’s like a palate cleanser for my brain, something nice and light and playful and innocent.
Another favourite is ‘Lady Chatterley’s Lover’ by D.H. Lawrence. It is the language and the dialect in this book that draws me, it is so very different that it requires a different level of concentration in order for me to read it.
I have other favourites, but these three have been read the most often.