The Maze

Sometimes I catch myself wondering “What the heck is going on? I mean REALLY going on.”

Because my mind is a maze that has me running through it, trying to find my way out, when I don’t even remember how it began.

I get caught in the playing and replaying scenes from my life, over and over, analyzing what has happened, wondering where the answers lie.

I keep feeling like I am missing something, some hidden clue that will unravel this mystery. Maybe it was something someone said, a look, a tone of voice, a gesture, that reveals the truth.

Maybe it’s because I remember so little of my traumatic childhood which bothers me. My mind has me trying so hard to go back and remember.

But no matter how hard I try, the missing memories don’t come.

I am aware that I have a toxic mind, however it constantly finds new ways to trick me into falling right back into the abyss.

It was recommended to me that when I come to see that this is happening again, I remind myself of my name, my age, where I live, what day it is, what time it is, and where my feet are.

I stand planted, feet apart, in my body, and focusing on my core I imagine roots growing far and wide into the earth.

It forces me to get present where my thinking gets quiet.

Very few who have experienced trauma really recover and live happy, joyous and free.

When I hear that it reminds me that I want to be one of those who do, no matter what.

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Survive

Getting sober is not for the faint at heart. A lot of times things come up from the past. Memories of events too painful for our psyche to deal with finally surface. We have shoved these events far down in our consciousness.

Sometimes these things that happen when we are children are so traumatic that it’s like we never knew they happened to us. It feels like remembering for the first time. It’s not an easy thing to confront.

I watch as women around me just can’t move past the pain. They just can’t face these traumas and they don’t make it.  I thank God for those lessons in what I don’t want to be.

So many of us women don’t make it.

As much as I don’t want these things to have happened to me, as much as I wish it would just go away, that it wasn’t THIS specific person, it doesn’t make it not true. It doesn’t make it go away. It can’t change what has already happened.

To try avoid going through this would be a death sentence.

Why has this come up now after all these months? I wish I understood.

My spiritual guide says that the timing of these memories surfacing is no mistake, that God doesn’t reveal things to us that we are not ready to handle. She says if it comes up, it’s time.

I made a decision a long time back that if I was going to get sober again that I was going to be one of the ones who make it. I see that this can be survived. I believe it to be true.

I know there are solutions if only I reach for them. Even when paralysed with sadness, sometimes if I can just lift a finger in that direction, I can see the horizon of hope.

All I have to do is be willing to try.

Wingless Angels

Universe of all things created

Is it time for truth so soon

When this fragile soul has been lifted up

Must it sink into lost memories unwanted, undeserved

An innocent child unprotected

Senseless occurrences leaving angel’s wingless

Youth stolen by faceless beings

Safety stolen

It must be time

Truth will cannot be hidden for eternity

There is no backwards but only pushing on

Trust is paramount

Embraced in warmth of the all knowing light

Safe in your presence my spirit rests

Hidden from dark shadows grasping from below