I’m on the Outside…..

Good Wednesday morning to you all.   I was unable to attend church this week, and I was supposed to be working the Welcome Center.  At this moment I am almost hysterical at the idea of being held hostage by a bad knee and a chip on my shoulder.  I keep telling myself that others have it much worse (and they do) I think of the homeless in weather like this.  I almost drove to the city with warm blankets for the plight, but quickly realized that the roads were like ice, and I was left in frustrated despair.  I am left with decisions, so many, do I go to a Specialist?  Shouldn’t I just trust God?  I am not going to ask Why Me? because that is a ridiculous supposition, we all suffer in one way or another, right?

I want to rant and rave.  I want to hide in the fetal position, as I am as afraid as I was as a little girl, terrorized by thunderstorms.  As a sufferer from CPTSD, I do not do well with unanswered questions or the unknown.  I loathe going to the doctor, deplore their inadequacies in diagnosing, well, anything.  I trust that He will heal me, much more than I do the medical profession.  God has never, ever let me down; big Pharma and human physicians have, on more than several occasions.  .

I feel as if I stand outside the window, looking at the healthy and content, as if they have something I desire, something I need.  They look oh so pleased on the outside, and maybe that’s the secret.

I’ll just fake it ’til I make it……I want someone to hold me and tell me it’s going to be okay.  I want, oh how I desire, to be that ten year old child once more.

Rally Round the Family…

Life goes along at warp speed until something stops you dead in your tracks: As was the case Sunday morning, after a full weekend of loving and socializing, the enemy came to take his due-you don’t think he isn’t out there trying to devour everything good in your life? Au contraire, mon amies! But here’s the good news-call out to Jesus, and you are free. He can’t hurt you if you are covered in the full armor of God.

But what about those times when evil does strike? Well, Abba will protect you in ways you couldn’t imagine, and that’s why I’m alive and writing this blog-my Lord and Savior sent His angels, and they protected me from a massive head injury and internal bleeding.

Just out of Dwain’s truck, exhausted from a weekend of frivolity, I could barely pick up my feet. I had promised my husband that I would pick up the myriad of dog toys that lay around our yard, at the whim of my golden retriever, who thinks he has to entertain the grasshoppers and blue jays with his cacophony of babies. It’s so sweet, until it isn’t.

I had my purse in one hand, my drink in the other, AND I was carrying six, that’s SIX dog toys to boot. We have concrete stairs, no railing, and the stairs are ridiculously dangerous. It did not escape my mind, while sitting in the ER, that I had traipsed up and down said steps while drunk, high on cocaine, and worse. Never once even tripped. But yesterday was different. My boots caught on Jesse’s blue elephant, and down I went. I had no hands to put out, and I landed on my noggin.

I immediately called for Dwain, who could hear me, but couldn’t find me. Pain so severe I thought I would vomit, I remained perfectly still until my husband arrived on the scene. I am an EMT, and a CNA-I have volunteered in the Emergency Room, with hospice and prison ministries-I have seen it all and maintained my composure. This is the precise reason I am prone to freaking out when I get hurt-I simply know too much.

Head injury? I was out of my mind hysterical. It didn’t help when my husband picked up my head and his eyes bulged out of his-

“My GOD, is it THAT bad?,” I wail. He didn’t answer, he was too busy putting my ample white behind in his truck, grabbing ice and driving like a bat out of hell, towards the ER I had recently walked out of-after calling out the employees no less. As I walked in, I immediately placed my eyes on Dawn, who calmed me as she directed me towards the door. I knew where to go all right. I just didn’t know if they would help me, or hurt me. They had so much power at that moment.

A friend of mine, Katie, was the charge nurse, praise God. She gave me a hug and an ice pack, told me the doctor would soon be in. As Dwain sat on the bed, this came over the PA System:

ATTENTION: SEPSIS ALERT IN THE ER. SEPSIS ALERT IN THE ER.

“Fabulous,” I murmured. And then it hit me, we were the only people there, aside from an 83 year old man with a dizzy spell. What the Harry???? They were talking about me for crying out loud! I couldn’t figure this out as the knot on my head was the size of a peach, but the wound wasn’t bad, it bled very little.

Dr. Ammons didn’t waste any time checking me over. I was told it would hurt like hell for a few days, but that I was extremely fortunate as if I had hit one inch below, I could have had serious eye trauma. If my cranium had hit a few inches lower? I could have knocked out my front teeth. But I knew about head trauma, and I was frightened. I kept what I knew to myself, forgetting that my man is a first responder.

And so it was, that I woke this morning with a shiner the size of Texas, and a headache to beat the band.

And because of His love? I’ll be strutting my stuff, sooner than you can say the words accident prone.

Into His Arms…

I have to start out by telling you I have consumed my happy juice and am a bit crosseyed at this time.  But praise Jesus, for he has given us every herb, plant and fruit bearing tree so that we will live healthy, peaceful lives.  Medicinal.  Used for my CPTSD, it can take me from despair to joy, and that my friends is worth its weight in gold.

I’ve been thinking about what is happening in this world, and obviously, it all but freaks me out.  After watching a video I shouldn’t have, I was overwhelmed-feeling as if the entire three ring circus was on my back.  First sad.  Then frantic.  Then Jesus.

I tell him, Jesus! I am clinging to your robes today, I need you badly!

These are the times when I run, full throttle, all engines on to God.  I picture myself running in to his amazing hug, and hear him say There, there child.

I can’t do this Jesus.

I know too much, why do I know so much and when did you make the decision to take a scaredy cat like this girl, and lead her in the direction of Doom.  Real news.  Investigative reporting.  I have felt the Holy Spirit driving me in this direction, and some days?  Down with the ship I go.

He never pushes, never demands.

I come to the realization that He alone is my Lord and Savior.  He will not leave me nor forsake me.  He is in control.  

I take a long hot shower.  I plug in my tiny white lights strategically placed all over my home, to give comfort.  Put some cinnamon on the stove.  And then He takes me back to who I was before I got clean.  I am profoundly grateful.

I fall into His arms.

Love Is Wild……

What is love, really? And how do you know if you’re on the right track, if you are loving someone enough, or …in a way that tells them they are loved?

Love is patient.
Love is kind.
Love does not anger,
nor does it boast.

This is what we find in our bibles, and make no mistake-God meant what he said, but how many of us can rise to that place? For me? Love is compassion. Love is validation. Love may take it up a notch or two-as lovers are passionate, and the frenzy can make us crazy. My husband and I still rant and rave, but at the end of the day? Love, somehow prevails. I remember not so long ago the days of begging him to love me, and now the tables have turned-love doesn’t hold anything over your head, and if you wax and wane poetic, but have no understanding or compassion, what does it amount to? Dust. Dust in the wind.

True love allows the other person breathing space. It listens, nods its’ head in sorrow, puts you in the shoes of the lovee.

Don’t you speak over my words. My reality is hard won, and I won’t trade my newfound jewels for stones-not today, not ever~

I Don’t Really Got It Like That……

For as long as I can remember? I have struggled with making money. While among those in the work force, I never made more than $250 a week. My Income Tax Return was almost always $250. Early on I surmised that God did not think it necessary for me to be a CEO, stock market analyst or-heaven forbid-a successful comedian. He knew that I was so grateful for the basics-food, a roof over my head, a loving husband and loyal dog. That’s pretty much it. Anything I made went to groceries, and when I had a chunk of moolah saved? It always went to something necessary-like buying my man a vehicle to get from here to there. They were always used Chevy pick-ups, and we held our breath each year at inspection time.

No, I have never been a material girl. From a very young age I fought hard to exist, so caught up in the struggle to survive-little things have always, always meant the world to me…and it is true to this very day. God provides for our needs, no matter how simple or complicated they are. I thought I needed my family to be happy, and realizing that the need for Jesus trumps the need to be loved? Life affirming.

Now the tears start rolling. I spent my first Christmas without any interaction (with the exception of my brother) with family. I actually went shopping for my nieces, to Kohl’s. It was there that I cried in the dressing room as I realized they were no longer mine to buy for-it hit me hard, the isolation.

So, for now, in this moment? I will cherish what I do have. My self esteem. My sense of humor. My handsome husband and a dog so loyal it hurts my heart to imagine a life without him. These days my husband drives a brand new Chevy truck, and we don’t worry about the bills or groceries because our income is sufficient. It’s time to start paying it forward.

I will treasure the memories of harder times, as it was then that the miracle of His amazing grace was ever present~

I Confess…

In 1990, I married my fiancée of five years, in a Catholic ceremony. I did it with the full knowledge that I was in love with another man. I take full responsibility for the role I played, however, it still makes for good reading.

The wedding had not gone off without a hitch, no pun intended. I had an ex who had threatened to “crash” my wedding: I took care of this little inconvenience by hiring a security guard, who was given a picture of the man in question. As the limousine containing my mother, my father and myself pulled up to the church? I see said security guard frisking a friend of mine, who happened to have red hair, but looked absolutely nothing like the red head who had planned to embarrass me at my nuptials. As my father and I sat in the back, knocking back the champagne at warp speed, my friend Dan approached the stretch.

“Michele, they won’t let me in.”

After my father and I pulled our laughing carcasses off of the floor, I had a quick meet and greet with Mr. Robotto. I had asked that he not come dressed like a cop, which he did. I had asked that he come to me before throwing anyone out, which he completely ignored. Needless to say he was fired, and my nemesis never made it to Lancaster, Pennsylvania.

I had asked my maid of honor to search the church for the man I was truly in love with, as he was my husband’s employee, and had been invited. I knew, with certainty, that one look at that man and I would make The Graduate look like Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. A mix of high anxiety and no sleep the evening before, I was a whirling dervish of angst and punchiness. I don’t remember walking down the aisle with my father, but I DO remember this scene:

My girlfriend Gina had been given the assignment of reading scripture. And as she began to quote Corinthians, she stumbled on a word. To the normal person, this would have gone unnoticed; to an exhausted and heartbroken bride to be? The funniest thing I had ever heard. When I laugh, well, it’s with my whole body-and I am not quiet about it, no, not at all. I laughed so hard that the priest began to become unhinged, and as hard as I tried…and then, the icing on the cupcake of the service: hearing my father and best friend laugh with me, I was gone. I collapsed at the altar, thus ensuring the crowd that this would be a day that would live in infamy.
************************

It wasn’t until the ex and I pulled away from the cozy bed and breakfast; our friends and family waving us on, headed towards Martha’s Vineyard, that this song played. And as I sat, numbed and tortured by a forbidden want, hot tears of recognition trickled down to the post card I had been writing:

HAVING A WISH, TIME YOU WERE HERE…

I mailed it from Nantucket.

To Dwain, with love… (to be continued)

She Killed it With Kisses…

My cup runneth over…it is well with my soul-even after the email I just received from a member of my family.   Are you SURE you don’t have BPD???????

Jesus Mighty, Mary and Joseph.  When will this end?  When do I get to stop apologizing for breathing?  For being a modest success and overcoming alcoholism and addiction to opioids?  I am no longer the black sheep, but I am sure as Hell the Scapegoat-and that shit is over, whether or not the narc “approves.”  My poor brother is worried.  He thinks my anorexia led to Borderline Personality Disorder.  Stop the madness, step off and WHAT THE HELL YOU TALKING ABOUT, WILLIS?

I know.  It’s a holiday weekend!  We must ensure she not enjoy it, maybe terrorize her with a new diagnoses?  Yeah, that sounds good.  Not that he knows what he’s doing, but I can tell him what he’s doing wrong, and that would be talking to our sister.  He is concerned about my anger during his last trip to my home, in which he stated, flat out:

“I don’t believe you.”  Courtney, you can wipe that demonic smirk off of your face.  Are you proud of the person you have become?  Are you right with Jesus?  Why have you deemed therapy a no-no?  Why did you call me two years ago and beg me not to go no contact?  Why did you admit to keeping the children from me?  Why did you admit keeping me from family vacations?  Why do you care?

I can answer every one of the questions, but rather than do that, I will stop reading emails, taking phone calls and feeling guilty because my kin is a psychopath.

I have earned this time of relative happiness.  My husband has been through enough.

Consider this your CEASE AND DESIST.

Your opinion doesn’t matter.

Nothing you say is true.

Deep down inside?  You are a coward of epic proportions.

Step off.

You have been served.