mr. B...a GOOD day...and a busy week!

oh, how i wish i had taken the time on friday to tell you that i did have a GOOD day....a better day.

my morning was rough,
and my heart was broken
and aching
and shattered;
from my terrible temperament

no excuses...i was sad
and i wrote....it is how i felt.

moments after i wrote, as if God felt he could prove His infinite power and my individual worth to Him....my mr. B walked through the door;

an angel sent, in my moment of distress.

he took the day off, to be with me.

'did I need anything?'

he couldn't have known



i weep in silence,
i don't call
and plead
and beg
and cause riots
for his attention, but he knew.


HOW did he know????

he knew, because He knew

oh, i am ashamed to be so pathetic at times, to be so needy, and yet in that moment, the balm that i needed to pull myself up and take on the day with a better light, more strength, was given to me....

and the character
that has grown in me
from my challenges,
strengthened;
and from the depth
of my darkness
came light.

we need people, we need each other....and i wish that i had just written a word or two to tell you....THANK YOU.

....thank you Steve...and Prayer Girl...
for your consistent care for me,
your thoughtful comments friday.

and thank you ALL, so many of you
who read, and write,
and comment,
and pray,
you who are here,
for me

---your love and prayers,
and the miracle that comes
of others praying
on our behalf
....for me,
for us.

mr. B walked through that door and his arms were the armor I needed to battle the depression and anxiety that was cresting within me....

It was a GOOD day!

a HAPPY day....and gave me strength
and anchored me in the HOPE
that I can have many GOOD and HAPPY days,

even when I feel broken and lonely and discouragement....

so CHEERS, my friends,
each of you...who are here

reading,
weeping,
healing,
and hoping...

i, too, am here,
and working on healing....


i will be very busy for a week with family in town,
so my absence is only
that I am engaged in some good works,
I will be back....late next week!



and i hope to have a HAPPY update
and to find you all here,

healing with HOPE, LIGHT,
and having your own GOOD DAY S
from time to time!

mile 191

aLONe agAiN...and PLeAsE dO nOT eXCusE

Today feels like this...for me:

Link here
to hear the original version
of Gilbert O' Sullivan
singing Alone Again, Naturally

In a little while from now

If I'm not feeling any less sour

I promise myself to treat myself

And visit a nearby tower

And climbing to the top will throw myself off

In an effort to make it clear to

whoever



what it's like when you're shattered



Left standing in the lurch at a church

Where people saying:

"My God, that's tough

She's stood him up"



No point in us remaining



We may as well go home

As I did on my own

Alone again, naturally


To think that only yesterday

I was cheerful, bright and gay



Looking forward to well

wouldn't do

The role I was about to play

But as if to knock me down

Reality came around

And without so much, as a mere touch

Cut me into little pieces

Leaving me to doubt


Talk about God and His mercy


Or if He really does exist


WHY did He desert me
in my hour of need...




I truly am indeed Alone again, naturally


It seems to me that there are more hearts

broken in the world
that can't be mended

Left unattended

What do we do? What do we do?


Alone again, naturally

Now looking back over the years

And whatever else that appears



I remember I cried when my father died

Never wishing to hide the tears


And at sixty-five years old

My mother,
God rest her soul,

Couldn't understand why the only man


She had ever loved had been taken



Leaving her to start with a heart so badly broken


Despite encouragement from me

No words were ever spoken


And when she passed away

I cried and cried all day

Alone again, naturally

Alone again, naturally

i suppose that takes some explaining...and all i can say is this:

i was up early...my friday, our friday, at the end of a long week and the crest of another LONG week to come. with seconds to spare, and here i am...in my closet.

i did my chores, and the chores that were left behind by the kids this morning....and wrestling them all into their morning routines,

into the car and ...off to school...

not without tears...

oh, i have had many many tears this morning...

In a little while from now

If I'm not feeling any less sour

i have cried this morning too many times to count...

i cried when i saw the dishes in the sink,
i cried when i saw the dust on my piano,
i cried when my son was still in his pajama
doing homework 5 minutes after we needed to leave,

i cried when my daughter made me toast,
while i was vacuuming...

why does she had to do that?

i know she is trying to be good to me,
but that reminds me of another song...
a song that reminds me of fixing my moms tears...

.I'm so tired of being here
Suppressed by all my childish fears
And if you have to leave
I wish that you would just leave
'Cause your presence still lingers here
And it won't leave me alone

These wounds won't seem to heal

This pain is just too real

There's just too much that
time cannot erase

[Chorus:]
When you cried
I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream
I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand
through all of these years
But you still have
All of me.

i cried when my Mr. B told me he was taking the day off
to help me....with my busy day...

why do i have to be so broken...somedays.

To think that only yesterday

I was cheerful, bright and gay...


i was...yesterday i was happy, and pleasant,
and i didn't say the cutting mean things i said today...

i didn't make my kids feel like THEY had broken me,
yesterday...


but today...i don't know what i said,
i don't remember the words,
but i will never forget the look on their faces,
the hurt in their eyes...their slumped shoulders
as they walked through the doors to school.

...oh, how my words cut and broke them...

i didn't break the cycle of abuse today,
i broke their poor tender once innocent hearts.

But as if to knock me down
Reality came around
And without so much, as a mere touch
Cut me into little pieces
Leaving me to doubt
Talk about God and His mercy
Or if He really does exist
Why did He desert me in my hour of need

with days like today...what will my daughter say about me:

Your voice it chased away
All the sanity in me

These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase

[Chorus]

I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone
But though you're still with me
I've been alone all along

we get to school, me with them,

my kids are kissing me goodbye,
'mom, i love you...i'm sorry...
don't be mad at me'

why do they have to apologize?


it is not their fault i am broken,

but they think it is...


its not their fault i broke today,

but i made them think it was.

my youngest went to get out of the car.
i took a good look,
and there in the wonder of his eyes
he pleaded,
'mommy, don't be sad'

i didn't even answer,
my cold shield held back the
offer to be loved,
and to love.

instead,
i noticed he had no coat,

and it is snowing,

its is as cold outside
as i am inside

no coat,
no undershirt,

and now i have to run him home,
and back to school... and he is late.

and i don't have
TIME or PATIENCE or ENERGY
today for this mistake

please do not excuse little j,
for being late to school.
he left without a coat,
and he is old enough to know
what he is responsible for
in getting ready for school.

i have taught him well,
he has no rhyme,
no reason,
no EXCUSE.


my breaking today...is no eXCusE.

.And climbing to the top will throw myself off.

.It seems to me that there are more hearts

broken in the world that can't be mended

Left unattended

What do we do? What do we do?


Alone again, naturally.

In an effort to make it clear to whoever


what it's like when you're shattered.


oh, i really don't know.
what comes tomorrow,
of my mistakes today.

how long until
they wont
ask me anymore
or tell me
or forgive me....

and i don't blame them, PleAsE dO nOT eXCusE.

deep insecurity

i have a side effect i am certain troubles me greatly because of the past, and yet I recognize that it is something that plagues women...people, all mankind, in general.

the trouble of being deeply insecure, and easily offended. both of these traits are not ones i am proud to carry. i easily express to others that taking offense is an option. you don't have to be effected so greatly by others words, opinions, actions....and then as if to mock me i find myself hearing something said and being so wounded, again.

insecurity is such a painful mask to wear. one that hides a persons truth, a persons value, in the treacherous comparison of what others can do, what others are doing, and what others might be expecting of you, of me.


i hurt.

i ache.

i tremble.

i ponder and plead to know that i have value, worth.

i hear the words of the song by Orianthi:

According To You

I'm stupid
I'm useless
I can't do anything right

According to you
I'm difficult
Hard to please
Forever changing my mind
I'm a mess in a dress
Can't show up on time
Even if it would save my life
According to you
According to you


except that it is according to me....

it is me that beats me down these days. it can spark by something simple, a word, a reaction, a pouty teenager....and i am my worst enemy.

according to me...i am inconsistent, i am useless, worthless, incapable, constantly screwing something up.... seems i have heard those things before... from him.

my abuser...why can't i get him out of my head...when there is so much good and new in my life, in my heart....

WHY do i continue to make room for him?

why can i NOT be secure, and content, and constant.....and patient.

where is my solace. my peace.

he no longer has me and yet he controls so much because i let him....he had my childhood, i don't want to give any more of my life to him, and yet...in one thought, one statement i find myself spinning myself into a new nightmare, one that tells me that what i am doing today is not good enough, is not worthwhile, and doesn't amount to anything.

i want so much to overcome this.

to be strong enough.... to not let one more day be taken by his malicious venom.

please... let go of me,
and let me live,
in light,
in peace,
in hope,
in joy.


this moment in time is mine. i keep telling myself that.

and when things come up, when i see my follies, my mistakes...they are just that, a simple setback and yet a growing opportunity...and i can move forward.

why don't i believe that in the aching parts of my soul.
why do i feel so hopeless, and so dejected.

in general we are our best critics. even when no one else sees our faults we project our faults as if they were world renown. we don't remember the infinite value, the incredible beings we are, and the worth of our individuality. we see the scum, the rot that their abuse left deep in our core.... and that is something that i pray doesn't take my whole lifetime to overcome.



i want to be able to say this:

I am a daughter of God, who loves me...and I love him...

I have infinite value and worth in me.

I am me and that is enough....

oh, someday let me believe.

pain knitted in healing

Rhonda's grandmother told her:

Don't you say a thing to ruin him.



So I am wondering....

Why is it always about protecting the family member that needs castration?
Why can't those who are suppose to love and care and protect have the instincts to do such?

I am just wondering...

Zan wrote:
I guess it is time, to sit down and have that cry. Cry for my sister and the pain she is in. But also accept there is nothing I can do. I do not hold the key. She does. I hold the key to my own problems, my own issues, my own pain. She has a separate key. They may both lead to similar memories and feelings but they are not identical, they are separate.



So I am wondering...

There is so much similarity in our pains, and yet we are so individual at the same time. We are here for each other, and some things feel familiar, and yet, we have a key to our own healing. A key within us. I have a key. I am sure it is there, ...I am still searching.

I always think that somehow I can love enough, care enough, protect enough; to heal the pains of those around me. But that doesn't make sense now, with what I expected from those who were suppose to love and care and protect me.

If I didn't feel it, does anyone around me feel it from me?


Is what I am doing enough?
And if I can't find my own key, am I doing any one else any good?

I am just wondering...

VICKI IN AZ gave me this:

Well she didn't just give it to me. She gave the offering to all of us and I watched it and listened today. With my heart and with my mind and soul. I have heard it before, but today it etched something in me that I needed. I suppose being broken; being open, I was able today to feel the balm of healing, an offering that Broken is Better.

And that with what is broken I can become....

thank you friend ♥

Yes, I am wondering...and reaching.

Yes, I am trying to heal.

Break of day heals night....

I sit here in the break of my day....reading and searching...finding morsels of peace; in prayer, in scripture, in your words; words of wisdom, of healing, of pleading for peace.

Yes, Peace.
The light of the day,
that chases away the nightmares,
the night terrors,
the darkness.

There is light peaking in my closet.

Broken souls that needs His mending....

...this broken soul that cries for mending...

Could it be that God loves broken things?

...i am wondering if that means me?

same shit, different kid

i really do NOT like being a pessimist

i am struggling so much
right now with my ups and downs

it seems the harder I fight
the harder the fight is

i suspect that the good is good
and the bad is bad
is the way it is
everywhere
for you
for me
for everyone



QUESTION TODAY:

do all sex offenders
go to the same school?

are they taught things
stuff to do to mess
with kids heads
and hearts
and bodies

stuff so that therapists
have a rule of thumb
a right reaction
a word or solution

why is it that they do
the same shit
different kid


yeah, i am struggling

my daughter, bless her 13 year old heart, came to me a few days ago and asked me if it is "really true that someone can stick their fingers in you to check and see if you are a virgin".


i FREAKED...inside.

inside i say because

happily
for the first time EVER
i was able to maintain
some composure
about myself
and not allow my problems
my childhood
my upbringing
to contaminate hers




i asked her 'why' she was asking me.

[a good mom question, i thought]

she told me she is
reading the book
'the lovely bones'

which she got from school, and of which book she saw the movie with a friend. ...a movie i will probably never be able to sit through. a movie that i will never ever want to have to hear about again....a move about a murder of a girl, which movie does not go in to the depth of the abuse that you get from reading the book, a book of which i will also never read....or wouldn't have....but must now, for her



today i have a daughter
stained by the work of the world
stained by the thoughts of abuse
in her head
the thoughts and feelings
that i have
not given to her from my childhood

thoughts suggested in a teens book

sick and twisted
and wrong


and truth...don't forget TRUTH...



what happened to Cinderella, and Ever After....
to Princess and the Pea... and If you give a mouse a cookie...

i answered her query

the best that i could
how do you tell an somewhat innocent
girl that the man who did that
in the story of her book
was disgusting
and twisted
and defiled that little girl



murdering her was his best work

how do you tell her
when your heart is bleeding
your mind is racing
and you feel like your being suffocated
by her innocent, and yet not, question

suffocated by your past
your memories
and you are beginning to panic

again

here is where i am
i answered her question
i told her yes, and no...



i didn't tell her
that he did that to me
frequently

i didn't tell her
about the pregnancy
i didn't tell her
about the rape
i didn't tell her
about all the fowl and vile
and intrusive
reckonings
of my childhood


i just told her that yes,
she has a skin
of innocence


every girl does

and it can be broken
a lot of different ways...

i told her lovingly
all that a mother should
in innocence
and in confidence.

i hugged her
so she couldn't see the tear in my eye.


i told her that i was thankful that she came to me
and i hoped she always would.

i asked her
if she had any other questions
i asked her
if she really wanted to read that book
i asked her
to please come to me
and not be afraid
and not be alone
and not worry

i will always be here
i will always protect her
i will always love her
all of her
everything about her

no matter what

when she left me
in my room
i sat frozen
fear took over
and fear has stayed

i have protected her from so much
and yet
abuse
came into her life
in a way i never considered

she is probably fine
and because i was composed
and full of love and tenderness
in handling the circumstance
she will be better for her knowledge
her understanding
of something she doesn't
hopefully
ever have to live WITH
but can be sensitive to

abuse

and now i am in my mode
of healing from this...
healing from the panic
and anxiety
and suffocation

of a simple innocent question
an innocence that was never mine
not since i was nine.

When it's good, then it's good, till it goes bad...

happy Trails, Smiles, and Hope...

Good morning friends.

In our path of healing we meet one another, and when we see someone down and out or veering from the path of healing we reach out to them.

We offer our shoulder, our kind words, a feeling in our safe HUGS that gives each other a moment to rest, and reflect, and ponder.

I could write so many things as I have felt so much healing and perspective from each of the comments you all left for me.

You gave me hope, and peace, and contemplation.

I have felt surrounded by so much support, and I thank you.
I will come back and ponder them all.

One thought that I keep thinking about is that our insides are not like
anyones outsides [prayer girl]. ...and that I need to not compare my experiences, or my healing to anyones.


Of course I can understand and empathize with many many experiences, and I can hope for healing which I see happening, but what is mine is mine, and I am equipped to live through, handle, and heal in my experiences.

And you are all here with me,
helping me,
buoying me,
and offering me the most amazing words,
and in your words a shoulder to rest upon,
even words of healing scripture for my heart and soul.
So THANKS.

In the meantime enjoy this following thought from my son.
It was beautifully said, and I am so happy in that moment that I was with him in his pondering, which have launched my own contemplations.



J said the most profound thing;
which profound rhetoric caused me to ponder, which pondering caused me to desire to search within, which searching within now causes me to write....

J, upon waking Friday morning to the frigid falling of fresh flakes stated with absolute faith: Today is going to be GREAT!

Me: okay, I will play along, why???

J: Fresh new snow to shred!

To Shred is to cut a trail while
Skiing/Snowboarding.
The fresh snow came just in time
for his Snowboarding Lesson day!

Me: Ummmm...

J: You don't get caught in someone elses trail,

you get to make your own!

Simple enough, and yet...profound!

Don't you think?

Really, are we suppose to get caught in someone elses trail.

Will we really be happy if we try to be just LIKE someone else??? ...wouldn't it be better if we blaze our own trail, shred fresh snow, make our own tracks, be individual???

...We were all created to be unique,
so ...why do we try to so hard to keep up with the "joneses"?

...life is FRESH...shred you own trail.
Happy Trails Everyone!!!
And Happy Happy
Happy Smiles!

And Happy Hope in Healing!
Bless you all...

Dear Elizabeth...

It has been a while since I posted anything personal. I suppose that is good, because I have been engaged in living life, rather than regretting the past. It isn't that I have been pain and anguish free. Stuff crosses my mind, but I have pretty good coping methods these days and it seems I don't freak out as anxiously as much as I have in the past ....sounds like healing.

I have appreciated comments that you have given me from time to time, even when I am Missing....and you wonderful people who have been such an integral part of bringing me to this point of healing will NEVER be forgotten. You are angels who walk here on earth. Walking one with another, helping, lifting, healing.

With your compassion, your sympathy and empathy.
You are amazing and strong,
and your strength has helped me to find my own.

Please don't think ever that I forget you, that I don't recognize the pain and loneliness that you each might suffer from day to day. If you leave me a comment I get it that day. If you need me I will hear your plea. I just am a little more absent on the technological market these days. I am on the instant gratification mode of texting or FBing... or more often I am living in the moment with my children and family. Blogging has brought me healing, and the direction that I hear from you all is to turn to Him who truly heals...which has impressed me and I have turned to prayer. So....there I am, and here I neglect, and yet...I never forget, and have great appreciation for each one of your insights.


Today....today...WOW.

Today I need to write HERE, so here I have come. A couple of thoughts.

One, I have been writing with my mother an interactive history. It is amazing how engaging in a persons life can bring you to a deeper healing. Understanding her is helping me to understand me better. I always questioned how she could allow those awful things to happen to ME. Didn't she care??? I suppose this is a thought for me to further explore another day, but....it has been a good month of learning to Love her, and I do. I have forgiven her....weird, huh. I am sure some of you will question that being that all you have is what I have written here. It is a subject that I will come here more often to explore, for it is a HUGE part of my healing, and a HUGE insight to who I am, learning who she is and was.

......IS and WAS...for they are two very different people.

I have a lot of love and compassion and empathy and forgiveness for her.

So much to ponder.

Second, I have been really consumed with the Elizabeth Smart Brian Mitchell Wanda Barzee trial...insanity....kidnapping...rape....saga. From day one, when that beautiful young girl was taken, SNATCHED from her childhood, from her home, from the protection of her mothers love and fathers arms....I have been with her mentally and emotionally on her journey.

I have cried, prayed, pleaded, and terrorized by her story, by her pain, her anguish, her experience. She has come through this a strong beautiful woman....and yet, what will become of her...

Really Third and Fourth, and lastly that is what this post is all about...

Dear Elizabeth....





My point in writing today...my PAIN....my anguish....my torment is this:



When Elizabeth was taken I was awakened by cries...a phone call and many tears. We know the family, my son is their sons best childhood friend from the innocence of first grade.

That day I got two phone calls.

One...my sister called to ask if her children could come spend the day with us. Her husbands brother had killed himself that morning; the girls Uncle. She needed to do family things that day and be there for her husband, their dad. The girls needed a place to go, someplace loving and secure. Of course I said yes. TEARS.

The second call came from the school. Could my oldest boy stay home from school? His best friends sister was kidnapped that morning from her bed. The school knew my sons heart and that he would be anguished with the news. They felt it was best if he didn't come to school. He was in first grade...too young. TEARS.

That day we drove through
a tank of gas and two tanks of tears.

I honestly didn't think we would make it. The pain was awful. Two tragedies....so much uncertainty.

Of course as the story goes ... Elizabeth was taken by Barzee and Mitchell and made to be his wife. She was a young girl ....only 14.

Nine months later she was found back here. Months of rape, months of terror. Terrorizing her, her family, her community....my heart.

As the story unfolded....I wept. I read every paper. I prayed...I pleaded...and then I stopped praying....I stopped pleading...was anyone listening anyhow...



Her story was too real to me. I read the accounts...I had lived that nightmare. I knew what it was like to be afraid. To hear that your family would be killed. To be raped, to be terrorized. Too many years I personally knew that kind of pain.

I shut down. I remember not being able to come out of my room. I remember not speaking to anyone...I was silenced in my pain, my anguish again...

My husband asked if I wanted a separation...

I remember thinking I needed to be institutionalized...I went to therapy...I told my story...my therapist told me that he had never heard anything so terrible as the events I had experienced...he needed a break from my healing, he needed a break from me. He had worked with girls who had been sexually abused...girls who were institutionalized and he had never heard the things I told him...the things I had been through.

He "didn't know how I could be sane and how I could function."

If he didn't know ...than how was I suppose to know.


As I continued to watch Dear Elizabeth heal, I watched her blossom in her youth, I couldn't understand why I couldn't. Why can't I heal????


I didn't want this pain anymore in my life.


One day I took all the papers about her, her story, her pain, her return, her healing...I burned them in our fireplace...time to let go, of her pain, of mine...

I went back to school. Wanted to get my mind on something productive...not my pain, ...not what I thought defined me.

Something new.

I took a Criminal Justice class. I wrote something about abuse for that class....again, too personal, and TEARS.


I wrote a letter to Elizabeth at that time. I thought that I would take it too her...the time wasn't right. I still have the letter. I see her family all the time. Our kids play sports together. I always think of not just saying hello, and the usual niceties...How are you doing?

I always ponder just someday...stopping to talk to her family, on a more personal level, her mother...her father.

I should be able to do that...but they have had enough pain.
They have her to help heal...they don't need me and my problems.

I just wonder...what is wrong with me.

Why can't I heal?

Why can't I be strong? Why can't I be beautiful? Why can't I be forgiving...and move on....and stop being so consumed by this pain.


Yesterday....Last night....

...I heard on the news that Mitchell is finally going to be tried. They think he is competent to stand trial. To be accountable to raping this beautiful girl of her childhood...of having a normal and decent life and mind to live with.

I always hear in the news that she has forgiven him...That she is not going to allow him to have one more day of her childhood, or her future...her life. I am so proud of her strength. I can say that....I know her enough to say I am proud of her, and humbled by her healing. I am happy for her...

I want to have that kind of healing as well.


Last night...after hearing this on the news....I couldn't sleep. Again...same as when she was taken, ...and when she came home... and when each and every detail was exposed....I couldn't sleep.

I heard noises in my house. When my kids were littler...and all this terror happened, ...I put them all to bed in my room. For nine months they slept in our room...on our floor, in our bed. Beds and blankets and safety...all confined to the space that I could control. And then I could sleep....

Last night. I didn't sleep. I heard noises....In my lingering between sleep and consciousness I had TERROR. I thought I heard someone...not Mitchel. But HIM.....my nightmare...in our home.

he was there...he was in my daughters room...he was walking my halls. his breath was on my neck.

It was as real as my sitting here typing these things. I felt his beard on my neck as he told me again, like so many times when I was a child....I will kill you. I will kill your children, I will rape your daughter, and you will woe the day you EVER told anyone about us. You are mine. YOU WILL ALWAYS be MINE.

I must have been asleep because I couldn't make him stop. He was doing what he wanted to do...what he always threatened he would do.... and I was still helpless, and afraid, and weak. I tried to pinch B...my husband. WHY WASN"T HE WAKING UP....why wasn't he making him stop. WHY couldn't he hear her screaming????????

I was paralyzed as I laid there....and I kept feeling him.....his breath on my neck...his cold terrorizing words silencing my screams. I came conscious and the TEARS had soaked my pillow, again.....

I tried to wake B....I couldn't speak...my heart was pounding, and I laid there. For three hours I laid awake in my bed...Silenced, paralyzed by my fear.... My subconscious knew that it wasn't real...but I could hear him...I could hear her....and I laid there and let him. I couldn't move.

Finally my cat made enough noise that my husband woke up. He let the cat out, shut off the dishwasher and came back to our room. The only thing I could say was please hold me.
Finally I could breathe and speak....AND SLEEP.


When I awakened finally this morning, after two LONG hours of sleep I said ....I had a terrible nightmare.... B's response to me....Yeah...I had a pretty bad dream too.

A PRETTY BAD DREAM... what would it be like to have a pretty bad dream???

I suppose that is why I am here: In my closet...hiding myself, ...and writing...I needed someone to hear me. It seemed so trivial that I had these feelings today. We all have nightmares...fears...terrors.

We awaken from them and go about our day.

Or at least that is what most people can do.

I wish I could go about mine...I wish I had the forgiveness and peace and healing....Oh, Dear Elizabeth....I do hope that you are really healed...I hope that someday, when you have a daughter, and a husband...you don't have to fear the things that you experienced...I do hope that you can really be free of your terror, and not have to relive those feelings...I hope you never awaken to feel the breath of your nightmare on your neck....silenced in pain, anguished and paralyzed...I wish no one ever has to feel what I cant run away from....only hiding...like me...here in my closet.

Wishing for healing, praying for peace...

I almost feel I am approaching my Mile 191 again...God give me the strength to pull ahead...and not stop on the shoulder of my highway.

Help me to keep moving forward...for all I want is rest, all I want is for this nightmare to end...and somehow, somedays...I think that it is not worth the fight.

I don't want night to come...for with night... darkness, is terror.
I can't do that again tonight...please....