Buried Alive

Each time the old messages screech hauntingly, slay them down. After a while they tend to not bother, staying in their graves where they belong. Who we are may be a stirring in the cauldron of just that plus who we choose to be.

Make a choice. Slay the dragons, or let them take me under. I slay them each day, some days with more success and energy than others. Other days they thrive like the walking dead, burying me as they walk upon my grave.

But my hands claw up through the dirt, my spirit rises, flourishes, and wins. Those messages from childhood will remain. Whether to listen to them, or choose not to, that is the work.

I am bad because I didn’t fight them off. Brothers who weighed twice as much as me. I am bad because as vile as it all felt, sometimes my body responded. I hate my body. I am bad, bad, bad.

And ‘family’ allowed those message to stick because then they were protected. Those that did it, those that knew but did nothing.

Choose. The truth, which is something new to me that I am still learning about. Or choose old messages that often threaten to bury me. The magic is loving myself how I am, and loving my body too, just how it is right now.

It is hard to learn the truth of who I am over the booming loudness of badness… to find my way to my core buried beneath cold, hard, vaulted steel, arriving at the place where love resides.

Dig. Dig until you find it, that soft, warm, puffy cloud place where love and comfort swirl like warm waterfalls… for self and for others. Unearth the sweetness where bliss and heaven dwell within. 

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New Normal

My new normal, that feeling of a lock down, a frozen robotic existence with repetitive thinking and other thoughts askew. My new normal from summer-time when well-being soothed my ragged spirit with some kind of normalcy, and was luxuriated in.

My new normal is my old normal, that of fall sinking into winter, realizing that without anti-depressants I just have to cope. The concoctions brewing in my head over these months can be scary. Being on those medications in the past made me want to escape my brain because another force was in control.

Being controlled by others or anything outrages me, like hot coal on ice. So I plod along the best I can. And now it means taking even more time to provide care and gentleness.

The warm October day was brilliantly robin’s egg blue. Seeking warmth on the patio had stopped due to my restlessness compounded with loneliness after the birds migrated south deserting me.

No hummingbird whizzing by my head to the feeder just a few feet away. No morning chorus upon waking. But a finch was at the feeder. Though his bright yellow coat has faded, he stayed. Along with woodpeckers, blue-jays, and others. People stay too.

Take notice, you are not alone. The hot sun sank into me. The coldness began to melt. Feelings of wellness replaced the hard stony core. There are ways to deal with this. 

It will take more effort to search for the warmth of love as the cold gets colder. Cold that matches my interior where love is hard to find even on a good day. Hard thick layers of vaulted steel protect that vulnerable tender place. 

It takes work to melt it away, that and a reliance on chemicals. My chemical of choice is chocolate, not really a chemical but an inducer of endorphins lacking in a brain such as mine.

Lots of chocolate in the form of fat free milk, sugar free sweeteners, and my new best friend- Hershey’s chocolate milk mix strengthened with more baking chocolate powder to intensify the flavor—a happy healing brew. Chocolate drags my spirits from the basin on up. Or I think it does which brings the same relief. 

That and a friend I’ve never met, but is an intimate friend even if she is far away. I share with you two sayings she sent to brighten my day…

INNER ACCEPTANCE

When struggling, in pain, anguish, confusion, fear, anxiety, or any of the other countless forms of hurt, words pour forth easily. But what then when the tremors inside are calm, and feelings of well-being flow?

Will boredom replace chaos, or shall I take the peace and enjoy it? How this occurs is not really a mystery, or parts of it are. It was a war, a war with the world. But decades of fight are over.

There are things about me that have not changed. I am not easy to be close to. I like my solitude, and prefer to interact with others infrequently. Nature is my truest friend. (and my cat) Time does not heal all wounds, but hard work, perseverance, and courage do.

Wounds remain still, because what was taken in childhood when hands lay upon me unbidden, stole all that is sweet, innocent, and natural. Those hands took my life. The one left to live was run from.

Coming ‘home’ to what is after the rage burned out sustains. Warmth softens not burns. Once inner acceptance is felt it grows.    

 

A HAPPY DWELLING

Waking, the first feeling is edginess, and with it attempts at quelling anxiety. Soon my breathing becomes regular, and my body feels soothed as encouraging thoughts are put into place. Good sleep patterns occur once again. Why long periods of restful sleep are suddenly interrupted by a difficult night remains a mystery.

The workings of my mind baffle me. Not being able to fall asleep must have  come from me, perhaps a belief that sleep was undeserved because I’d let important self-care tasks go out of whack.

Punishment. Until cleaning up my act, punishment. And that feels true. As the sky turns rosy and another day erupts, thoughts go to, ‘What can I do to nurture myself today?’

Self-care comes first. I am no good to others unless gentle care is provided at home within myself. It feels selfish and wrong, yet is the very exact right thing to do. Make my inner dwelling caring and whole, only then can it be truly shared with others.  

A Restful Day

Sitting alone in silence, the only disruption in the solitude of dawn is the plaintive howling of a wild pack of dogs in the distance. Disbanding once the rosy glow of morning arises, a rooster crows. Even the birds that stay, cardinals, sparrows, wood-peckers and doves, are late risers.

The cat hunches waiting for prey to pretend hunt as she’s kept inside and can only watch, hope, and drool. The dark coffee is rich, waking me slowly to this last day of summer.

Shane and the grand-children spent the day with us painting odd shaped pumpkins from Samuel’s pumpkin patch. The toddler isn’t well so no running outside. But we had plenty to occupy us inside; toy trucks, movies and laughter. It was a relaxing afternoon with them all.

HOME

Days string together brilliant, azure blue, and sunny, warming my body with memories of what’s to come. The stove will be fired up just as my bones begin to ache. The pleasure of just ‘being’ during this lull of peace needs more careful absorption… as with all things, it is temporary.

Wisps of jet plumes, pink and yellow from the rising sun, crisscross the sky as a lone cardinal chips from the hedge-row nearby. The mornings are still interrupted only by a distant train whistle, or a car going by.

The day opening is greeted with anticipation. When younger more excitement is looked for, though it is hard to discern whether it was excitement or anxiety. Now my belly turns with excitement over a trip to the glen, or a butterfly nearby during a walk through the meadow.

I do not have to leave home to be happy. All that is needed is right here on the land, but more completely right inside my own self; a place once scattered, broken, and chaotic now home

 

HAPPY DAY

“Let’s take a day trip to the glen,” I exclaim to Samuel.

He nods, agreeing, and the next morning we are off to my favorite place where we’ve camped and hiked since the boys were little. Walking along the water as it gurgled across the rocks, my insides unwound opening to mother’s gifts of solace and comfort. 

The smile arising was unforced reflecting true internal happiness. Sun freckled the forest floor carpeted with soft mossy rugs. My hand instinctively reached out to caress it’s invite. You could easily curl up for a nap on the nature made mattress.

Pockets of warmth confronted shaded cool areas. My senses rejoiced with pleasure from the variety of feelings. The days delights were relished- one, one more, then another…