I lingered and then lingered some more, as I knew that when I left, I would not pass this way again. All of the memories and horrors…all of the expectation and disappointment and disgust…all of this fucking pain. I stood in all of that pain. As the pain kept raining down, I stopped seeking refuge and shelter. I just stopped. I decided instead, to let the rain and the tears wash me away. Wash me all away. I have never really done much more than existed, and that was a chore at times. Standing here though…being here and repeatedly trying to leave here…all while trying to find a way to stay here. Something broke in me. I let it break. Literally being shredded and mocked and taunted with tones and rigid jaw lines and then being rendered lifeless by the contempt. There’s no fight for this. There are no words for this. There is no reprieve from this. This has never been okay. I have never been safe. I have been thrown away and I grieve as though I am the one who left. I would never have left. I know I am not the leaver… I am the left behind…a pattern I’ve learned and repeated so, so many times before. I won’t act like this is okay. I forgive. I cannot forget. I love. We are the best thing that ever came of all of this. We stand alone. I stayed and I held space. This pain though…I have never known pain like this before. Foreign and so familiar is the pain that finally hit me hard enough for me to go down. We closed out a couple of lifetimes standing there. There was no budge and I cannot bend anymore without fracturing myself beyond repair. I regress. This morning though…first thing when I opened my eyes… the tears continue to fall. No dam can hold the flood of tears on their way down. No force can stop the flood and there is no comfort to be found. I haven’t spoken much of this, as I don’t even begin to know how to find the words. These words, somehow jumbled and coded, edited into “I” statements. These words are so void of all of the pain inside. These words are the best that I can stammer out, in an effort to relieve the tension that holding them has caused.
This is about me. This is about me and how I feel about what has been done. I have the power to make decisions best for me. I am not powerless. Making someone else wrong will never make any of us right. Lies are an attempt to hide a truths that don’t align with us. I have been invisible and I have been hurt repeatedly and on purpose. Over and over, and over again, I’ve not been seen at all. And I…I am barely breathing and moments away from ceasing to exist anymore at all. I am dying and I have been blatantly denied life support. I am drowning and the flood gates have been opened anyway. I am broken as the cord that held my world snaps and crashes down on top of me. I am struggling in the rubble and I extend my hand. I see the shadow pass before me and the hands shoved in the pockets of the dark image passing by. I am but a lowly beggar and my basket is nearly empty. My heart nearly broken. My face tear stained and aged and lined. I stand alone and so I am going now too. Another thing and the worst of things is that I would fix this if I could. I cannot. I cannot fix this. I did not break this. Unaccountability and anger and greed and rage and entitlement and contempt that can no longer be disguised or hidden behind other words seeps out and drains my soul. The mask has fallen off and the truth, scribbled across the shadows of a face I used to know. I can. I won’t. The rhetoric in my head, that I repeat on accident…unsettling. A broken little girl in a woman’s body. Sam and Coral and Coral and Sam, tumbling about, being tossed and turned out…A golden boy falling from grace that never befell him. And she in her casket. We have fallen apart. We have fallen from grace. We have lost more than we ever could have imagined. And my soul shrieks in the most agonizing pain of this lifetime. The bloodstains and the tears…the flashbacks and the right nows…the horrors and the lifelessness…the lovelessness…and I must go on.
For each painful thing that befalls me, and oh how it has befallen me, that I cannot turn seem to turn positive and to the light, I offer three positives and I give thanks. And I am on my way to that, in the midst of all of this.
In the loss of all I’ve truly ever known, I have gained the opportunity to be myself. And I give thanks.
I have done enough here and so I must go, as I’ve much good work to do our there. It rips my heart into bits to be begrudged the little bit of happy I have found and to feel the venom seeping out. Our house was full of strangers and friends…friends who who aren’t even friends back…and we watched from the outside of the glass. We had our little faces pressed against the glass, peering through the window at the Christmas of someone else in a home that we used to call our own. And we cry…God do we fucking cry. And I must go on. Without the knowing of how, I will go on.
Brand new, I return to the rooms of AA. Beginning again, from my lowest point in four and a half decades, I crack the cover of my big book for the first time. I begin again. I die this death to be born anew. I die this death to begin my life as me, for I will not dwell here any longer.
For the gifts and the lessons and for the endless and abundant blessings, I am so thankful. I truly am. I know how blessed I am. I write to heal myself. I write to get all of this out. I write to try to sort myself, my life…this. I intend to harm no one. And, I will not be silent. I have carried the sins of many. I have endured the beatings of nations. Today, on this day, I decide. Tomorrow and the next day and all of the days after that, I decide. From now on and for always, I decide. My decisions will be in my own best interest and in my own highest good…in the highest good of everyone, for we are all the same.
I am in the throes of something that I must go deep within to resolve and sort out. I have pulled myself out of circulation today and will not be available, as I repair my heart and lick my wounds. As I prepare my inner warrior for spiritual battle, I must prepare a place and I must ready myself for the letting go that is taking place, to prepare for all of the good things coming. These embers are still hot and cooling down, and as I patiently wait for them to become ashes, I prepare myself to rise up. I will rise from these ashes. And so it is.
As always, I send all that does not serve us, back to the universe to be recycled for the greater good of us all. I love you. Have a beautiful Sunday!