communion

poem that i found visiting my grandfather this week. it is one that was written in my grandmothers handwriting from many years ago. i found it interesting that my grandmother would find peace in these words, that she needed them at one time in her life, and that, so timely, i would come across them.

i am small tonight,
and heaven is far,
only God and I,
and the evening star --
the perfumed breath,
from the heart of a rose,
whispers to me;
"He cares! He Knows!"

courage

A Warrior's Journey

The fragility of your bearings

were perched on the wind

standing on the ledge of the heavens.

God held you tightly

infusing your veins with his nectar

his sweetness over powered the bitter.

You feared the darkness and the light

yet our prayer's vibrated your soul

lifting you into the spirit of the sky.

You sprouted wings today

as your body begins its renewal

bathed in healing promises.

You can give up the anxiety of endings

and share in the joy of letting go

for today is your new beginning.

God bless you!

speak

i drew a picture of myself last night. it turned out pretty good. but i couldn't put a mouth on it. it was so suffocating to sit there with my pencil and my eraser and not be able to draw my mouth. then i realized that this is how i have felt for so long. saying the truth, the secrets, is going to be hard, but maybe i can do it.



my son is 14, he told me last night that bravery is something you have to do, and courage is a choice.



it made me think about myself, like when I was a child, i didn't have a choice. i just had to brave it out. but now, i can speak, i can heal, which will take courage. but it is my choice.
i have to choose it, and show that i have courage.



i am going to think about this for a while.

What is a survivor anyway?

I had to go back to a blog I read earlier today.
Someone out there who writes how I feel.

If this is YOU reading ME, I am going to send this comment to you;
because I am wondering.

My brain won't stop tonight.

...in the tub tonight I was thinking, what is up with the word survivor?
everyone smiles at me and says, "you survived."
You are doing so great! SMILE, CHEESE, SMILE, BS BS


How come no one sees me looking back with a blank, sad stare.

Like when I was a kid and they saw my life through rose colored glasses.

So messed up.

Survivors are victims; trying to make it. Yes, I survived, but to do what, live with the victimization that I put on myself every day. my mind wont stop, my body memories aren't going away. i cry, i fall apart, i cant seem to handle simple daily tasks sometimes. the anxiety and depression just takes over.

One thing I am good at is faking that I am okay.

I seem to be pulling a lot off.

so here i am blogging to heal.

i will do something with this, but when people say Survivor to me, i don't get it.


It is like that word makes other people feel comfortable around me.

and i think that the Survivor (CBS) show has made it cool to be called a Survivor; society thinks that all it is about is going without food and water and looking destroyed on television for a season.

That is so unreal; unrealistic. [yes, i watch the show, every season]


summary:
To me a survivor is a victim disguised; trying to make it, trying to matter, trying to heal.

Are you okay today? I am worried about you. Please write if you can.