Day -16

I have had three nights alone, my son away with his grandmother.

Tonight is the first time I have cried at all since alone.  I haven’t even cried about what happened in so long.  My tears these past 15 months have only been tears of frustration, anger, overwhelm and panic.

It feels like there is a malfuntioning security perimeter around the deepest center of myself.  It is on lockdown and I am locked out.  The months of anguish over my circumstances and surviving financially have done something to me…something not good.  Living in chaos for too long has eroded a feeling of stability.  I know my feet are on firm ground because God is with me, but my feet are so callused from walking on shifting pebbles that I can’t feel the ground…I only know it is there.

I wish I knew how to break into myself to release the crap I don’t need to carry around.

Not even two minutes after I posted this, I caught a dim reflection of myself on the side of my wardrobe. Suddenly I was over come with the words, “it’s okay to feel sorry for yourself”. Permission. Then I gave myself permission to follow an unusual urge. I got down on the floor, I pressed my face against the side of the wardrobe and cried. I put my hands on the wardrobe and held my reflective self while I cried.

A thought occured as the tears subsided: I have never not been a witness to or victim of emotional abuse. I was fed crap growing up and the more crap I ingested the weaker I became. The climax was the abusive crap Hyde fed me under the guise of love…I nearly starved to death in my soul.

I need to think about this more and try to see if I can evaluate sources of crap that are lingering still.


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