Let Hope Reign Over This Place

Sometimes your mind can be cruel. Learning to love myself was one of the best decisions I've ever made. I no longer allow the voice in my head to control my emotions.

 

 

 

 

“how could you let the house get so bad?”

 

“Your so lazy. You used to keep the house so clean. What happened to that person?”

 

“you don’t have a real job, this house should be spotless”

 

This is my train of thought while standing in the middle of the tornado that is my living room. I am in a trance and the words are on the turntable of an old record player; ever increasing its speed.

 

Suddenly, I snap out of it. Continuing to stand in the same spot, I am frozen. Those were not my words and that was not my voice inside my head. Am I truly unstable like he says or is he haunting me still even though he has been gone for two months?

 

I close my eyes and allow myself to feel, ignoring the raging bitch that continues to mock me for my shortcomings. I am so sad and so, so angry. “self”, I say, “it is ok to feel”

Sometimes your mind can be cruel. Learning to love myself was one of the best decisions I've ever made. I no longer allow the voice in my head to control my emotions.

 

I prayed to God for mercy this morning in the wake of a hell storm that was forming with the promise of a miserably hard day. But, I had no mercy for myself. How was I to accept mercy from anyone if I could not first accept it from myself? I was still living in his shadow always trying to outrun the condemnation that was to come if I didn’t run our lives just so.

 

Things have to change. I have to unshackle the voice in my head, clean the remnants of tar that is his essence off my broken spirit. I have to then stitch that spirit back together like I have done hundreds of times before him. The alternative is my death. He does not get to be the one that breaks me to such an extreme, he does not get that power.

 

I am so tired though; my needle and thread are worn. I am tired of people and the pain they bring. I love such dark souls; it is as if I love those that bring me pain because I do not feel I deserve a healthy relationship. Subconsciously, I seek out abuse because it is all I know and all I feel I deserve.

 

I crave a mother; not just any mother, but MY mother. She is my beginning, the first voice in my head to taunt me. I have to stop and ask myself, have I been seeking my mom’s love and approval in every adult relationship I have ever had? Is every person in my life a subconscious reflection of my mother? This thought sends chills down my spine.

 

I know very little these days as my emotional state is being held together by worn out thread and a rusted needle. But what I do know I am clinging to like a raft in the ocean.

 

Still standing in the living room I clear my head of all thought. It is time I listen to the heart of which is ME, not the voices trying to define who I am.

 

I FEEL love. Love for myself; and that is when the tears begin to fall. I have no hidden agenda, no quota to fill, and no expectations. I just simply and purely love who I am. I am funny, driven, smart, resilient and STRONG.

 

I am honest. So much so I will sacrifice it all to set the truth of things free, even if it is a truth about myself. I would not be where I am today if that were not true. Despite the chaotic hell that is my present situation I have worked hard to not become like my mother in the fact I do not suffer from the same personality disorder.

 

I feel strong even though my knees want to buckle under the pressure. I feel like I can run despite the fact I’m crawling through my days. My heart is weak and broken but it is my spirit that picks me up off the ground and tells me to move, to RUN free towards happiness and peace.

 

This is who I am when I turn off the entourage of voices in my head; the whispers of broken spirits trying to convert the living.

 

I do not need to be rescued. I don’t need someone to come in and fix my mess of a life because I don’t need to be saved. I have faith that God is leading me to the path I am supposed to be on, hope in myself that I will follow his lead and enough mule headed determination to see myself through.

 

I have an image of an old steam engine in my head as I begin to pick up the toys off the living room floor. It will take time to build up stamina to make it through a whole day without tears threatening to break free, but like the train I will get stronger, faster even. I will pick up the pace; I just need to give myself enough grace and mercy to see this through. Faith in God is great, but I can’t accept anything he has to offer unless I put some of that faith in myself as well.