Here’s the Rub…

This blog is killing two birds with one stone. In all of the hustle and bustle, I completely spaced New Music Thursdays! Not important in the grand scheme of things, but hearing Norah Jones through “new ears,” not once-but twice in one weekend initiated a foray into her unique, jazzy, vintage sound.

I had always linked this tune with roads untaken. As much as my addictions took years from my life-my social anxiety has robbed me of much, much more. I find it ironic that getting sober brought on a new list of phobias and nervous ticks – I pick at my skin when anxious, am completely incapable of dealing with any kind of stress, and would rather have a root canal than travel sans Jesse, my golden retriver. I am a germ phobe extraordinaire, a dog hypochondriac and feel uncomfortable (make that extremely uncomfortable) around people I do not know.

1450868_670242899675796_1120820745_n Jesse, to the left. Our beloved Dylan to the right of our son-may He await me at the Rainbow Bridge

What we regret in our lives is never as painful as chances, opportunities not taken. With Social Anxiety, you are forced to cancel plans depending upon just how strong you feel on that particular day. Interestingly enough, my nerves are their worst in the evening, which I attribute to the notion that I am not fully awake for the first four hours after rising. If you want to give me bad news, do so as the sun rises-with any luck? I won’t remember what you said by noon.

I was completely uninhibited as a child-thinking nothing of knocking on doors, asking the neighbors to bake me cookies. I had a sense of myself from very early on, and as a young girl, my father doted on my propensity to not take crap from any person, place or inanimate object. I learned quickly that pleasing dad meant everything. I yearned to make him proud, he was a nurturing father to me, despite many less than ideal situations; such as, my mother-who was pathologically jealous of our closeness. And herein lies the rub:

In your formative years, you have nothing but the reactions of others to mold and guide you in your very human quest to be loved, to fit in. When your own mother dislikes you? Well, let’s just say I was at an extreme disadvantage. Later in life, Satan’s Seed (aka, my sister)did not miss an opportunity to berate, humiliate or gaslight me-I sunk further into depression.

There is hope and I am here to say things are so much better on the other side of recovery from narcissistic abuse. You begin to see the very things the narc disliked about you (pure and total jealousy) are the very same things that others will love. I did my research, and once I felt I knew enough, I dug deep into the Word. A combination of incredible support from my husband and friends, a return to a creativity I thought had left me long before-and a deep faith in Jesus led me out of the muck and mire that is codependency.

I don’t care who you are, your opinion of me has much more to do with you than any other factor. I am no fence sitter-folks either love me or hate me, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Be of good cheer, God is in control~

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.

I Choose Joy

 

Momma never told me there’s be days like this, and that’s because momma didn’t know.  I often wonder what my beloved parents in Heaven think, when they look down at all of the despair, the outright terror and searing pain.  And then I remember, there are no tears, no pain, not even a stubbed toe! in Abba’s Heaven.

My parents know that their children are living in the end days.  I often look up and say, “it’s alright, mom and dad, Jesus has this.”  And again, I remember that they have a totally different perspective in that realm.

I spent the last week being red-pilled myself, and it wasn’t pretty.  I look back and think to myself, what the hell just happened?  Where am I?  Who am I?  And the answer is always the same:  I am in the arms of our Creator-no matter what the world is doing, saying or debating.  I need to remember from whence I came-and remind myself that I was born for such a time as this.

BibleDeu31_6

For the last two years I have immersed myself in the real life battle between good and evil; played out in living technicolor on YouTube, Twitter and the evening news.  I have neglected my family, my husband and myself.  More disturbing, I set off on a journey I thought was imperative, only to find out that it was a drop in the ocean, an atom among molecules if you will.

I thought I was following the right Patriots, turns out I wasn’t.  I feel betrayed, but schooled as well.  What was I thinking?  Me, a puny human-and Jesus, THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD!  Don’t misunderstand me, I had the correct information alright-it was the PAYtriots who had me, and by the balls.  I don’t believe in coincidences, I never have.  And so it was, one day last week, when a man who plays a pretty important role in the NSA and current administration, happened to be tweeting about the same information that had me awake at night:  who was this Dustin Nemos (aka, Dustin Craig Krieger) who came out with the Amazon bestseller about QAnon?  And more importantly, why was he taking credit for the entire Great Awakening?  Why did it bother me, I mean, what do I care?  But here’s the thing:  my conscience couldn’t, wouldn’t let it go another minute.

I teamed up with this man Morpheus on Twitter.  I knew nothing of him, only that I had been following him for two years.  I asked him his opinion on the matter-what transpired between us was a friendship I could never have foreseen.  He knew things.  He knew things no one else seemed to know.  He was a bad ass for sure, and he set me straight on quite a few things.  We worked together for a week, had a good laugh or two, and shared our testimonies.  Actually, he shared his-turns out he had died at the hands of a vicious gang, as a young man.  The brawl began in a bar and ended in a playground across the street.  And as he lay there, his vision changed-he saw himself, on the ground, bleeding, dying, and alone.

Enter Jesus, stage left.

He did not go on to explain the private exchange, but suffice it to say?  I believe every word.  Morpheus had a near death experience, and it changed him in profound and intangible ways.  He left a mark on my soul, and for that I am grateful.  More importantly?  He reminded me of what is truly important, and that God will give you the strength you need to endure the plans He has made.

And so it was that Abba, Jesus and I made a new plan-one in which I get to live out loud, play in the woods, work in my garden, write at whim.  I no longer carry my pc from room to room.  I don’t watch videos, I don’t tweet my fool head off.

You see, if you have the faith of a minute mustard seed?  You can achieve good and great things-by praying, sharing and loving the God who created you with all of your heart and soul.

I did my job.

I planted the crap out of that seed.

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~

Life During Wartime

 

This ain’t no party, this ain’t no disco, this ain’t no fooling around..

I saw a video this morning that kind of, sort of, somewhat saved my sanity.  Her name is Polly, and I had subscribed to her two years ago, while up in the mountain cabin we call our second home.  We don’t own the cabin, but our friends are generous enough to allow us free reign, and for that we are incredibly thankful.  Here’s the thang:  I didn’t remember following her, and I saw her in a new light as she was doing vids on The Great Awakening.

 

What is the Great Awakening?

Many people mistake this movement as a blatant political statement geared towards wiping the planet of liberals:  I caution you not to fall for that, as this movement does not discriminate exclude anyone, of any denomination or political affiliation.  Quite simply?  We have been lied to, manipulated, and poisoned-literally-by the people we were taught to trust.  Once you go down the Rabbit Hole, so to speak, you cannot unlearn what you are faced with-and afterwards?  After you are AWAKE (I believe God chooses when and if we are to awaken, and frankly?  It has been an ongoing process: it begins where Elizabeth Kubler-Ross left off-you will grieve, you will deny, you will bargain and in the end?  It is up to you to decide what your heart and soul are telling you.

Discernment.

Patriotism.

Faith.

A purpose driven quest to get to the truth, no matter the cost.

In my case, as in Polly’s, I lost my family.  Everything I thought I knew fell away.  At first, I was screaming the facts at anyone who would listen.  I made mistakes.  I wept daily.  And to this day I am alone in my fight, to be a seeker of the God’s honest truth.

I don’t try to red pill anyone any longer.  You can use this information in any manner you choose.  I don’t write on it very often as I am still working on a way to begin a blog under an assumed name-my life is no longer my narcissist’s business, but she is loathe to understand this concept-and reads my writings daily.

I pray we can all come together, as a nation, as a people, as God’s children.  For only then will this bitter war of words and flesh end; for the good of all nations under our mighty Savior.

Say brave things-you have a roaring Lion inside of you, and he is begging to be heard.