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.

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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~

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.

Jacqueline

 

We are in the midst of a glorious snow storm, so I bake cookies, do research, take the pup shed hunting.  I am like a child when it snows.  Yesterday?  We took to making a snowman, and I made snow angels, for the first time in years. 

Presently, Jesse gnaws on frozen fox, I am beyond horrified, tell him to come, drop it, good boy.  We hunt five square miles of prime shed territory on two different plots of land.  I grumble that my hands are empty.  I apologize to God, thank him profusely.  I feel like a shmuck.  He has blessed us abundantly, with the things that truly matter in our lives-family, a loving marriage, food on our kitchen table-the very same one as in my childhood- I simply can’t bare to replace it.

The word on the street is that dysfunctional families raise dysfunctional adults.  The friends who don’t fill that shoe are few and far between.  So, what happens when your very best friend is dwelling in the silent place, and you are incapable of helping her.  You can’t wrap your arms around her, like you want to-because she’s a bit too restrained.  She is holding you at arms length because her relationship with her father was complicated, she suffered.  You are working through boundaries and self esteem issues after a life time of narcissistic abuse.  You have ended lasting friendships with people who refused to take you seriously, or took you for granted.

 

But this girl?  You just can’t shake her-you have become as close as your familial histories have allowed you to be.  She has always taken you seriously, and always respected you.  It just hurts too much when she forgets our plans, or fails to return numerous attempts to ask about her well being.  I do not judge her for this, she is hurting and I hurt for her.

You love her and hope that she knows this.

Sometimes there isn’t an answer.  Maybe you need to let go and let God.

So you decide that you will not allow her to slip away.  You take a step back and give her the space she needs.  You miss her, but know-deep within your very soul, that she is in the arms of the angels.

Jesus has this.

 

I Used to Live There Too

 

I remember, years ago, fantasizing of the time I would spend with my nieces and nephew.  I was going to teach them to dance, keep their secrets, and proudly, gleefully even, watch them grow.  Oh I had such big plans.  We all know what happens when we carefully map out the direction of our lives-God intervenes and turns the whole house upside down, as if to shake us senseless with shock and confusion.   The pain that comes from knowing that certain doors have been shut, dreams dashed-not at all what you had hoped for, no, not at all.

I have learned a few things as of late, and one of them is that if we truly place our faith in God?  We can trust that certain doors should remain shut, at least in hindsight.  But what if the door is left ajar?  What if there is no definitive answer?  Well, that’s when we need to give it to Abba, let Him have it all.  If we are patient and full of the Holy Spirit, God will help us to discern which doors can be swung wide open, and those that must remain dead bolted.  For.  Life.

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When there is deep, enduring, ferocious love?  That is where miracles happen-I am living proof.  That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t guard our hearts, or put on the full armor of God.  Your soul will speak the wisdom, if we remain silent enough to listen.

You simply cannot stop loving the precious innocents-the next generation deserves our compassion.  I wouldn’t want to be finding my way in a world such as this-they are so blessed by a president that most hate, but will end up loving soon enough.  I will never stop loving, praying for or even adoring Olivia, Natalie, Esme or Anthony.

There will always be a candle lit and shining in my window.

In Christ, I have hope~

 

Stay By Your Fireside Bride

 

Awhile ago, maybe six or so months-I prayed to God for an expansion of my awareness, a ripping of the veil, if you will.  My experience two years ago, culminating in a devastating loss, was nothing short of having a sixth sense.   I took pictures of angels in my back yard, on a dreary, foggy day.  As I sat at my pc, writing, the Holy Spirit urged me to stop what I was doing, grab my zoom lens, and snap a picture-directly into a heavy mist.

I didn’t question it.  I took the camera, lifted it to my eye, and promptly had a near heart attack.  White Crosses.  A dozen of them.  I took the camera away, saw nothing.   The magic happened when I saw the footage-angels, in my estimation.  God was signaling to me that although I was in the New Age, getting Reiki treatments, and burning sage while uttering a prayer so evil I could only find part of the Latin translation on the internet-He was protecting and loving me right then and there.  I had no idea at the time that the origins of angel and tarot cards, angel readings, crystals, totems, mediations, yoga, sage burning and the third eye?  It comes from the occult, and it’s easier than you may think to allow demons into your life, home and relationships. Turns out, after my stalking experience, I ran to my Reiki friend, who very lovingly prayed it over me in my hysteria.

It was so beautiful in Latin, and I asked for its meaning, but Lila didn’t know.  She learned it from a fellow Master.

It took me months to forget this mantra, so I won’t go looking for it.  I searched the internet for days, finding nothing but the (I kid you not) score from Damien.  Another story for some other time, back to my blog.

Around the time of the angel sightings, I began experiencing a thinning veil, an eye for another realm so to speak.  Synchronicities, premonitions, impossibilities.  A knowing that I simply can’t put into words.

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All of these things were happening as my relationship with my sister began to spontaneously combust.  Reeling from that alone, I was later blindsided by her systematic destruction of my relationship with my niece, Godchild and nephew.  And when that wasn’t enough?  She took my brother as well.  Gut-wrenching melodrama was the theme of that Summer.  I relapsed.

I am sitting at my perch, at the end of our couch-a few moments ago.  Did you get that text from Craig (my brother) today?  I think that one of your aunts died.

Stunned, I said:  “I only have one aunt.”

My Aunt Irene is now in Heaven, with her beloved husband who passed just months ago.  They say it was her heart, which was shattered by the death of my Uncle Bill, I am certain.

The tears didn’t come at first, which didn’t surprise me-I had only met the woman a handful of times.  Same with my cousins, same with Uncle Bill.  You see, my dad and his brother were estranged-Bill was a born again Baptist, dad was an alcoholic agnostic.  I remember every year at Christmas, Bill would send my dad Baptist Digest.  It always stung a bit, when the magazine hit the bottom of the trash can.  I didn’t, no, couldn’t understand why my dad didn’t spend more time with his family, even if they lived in upstate New York.

You see, it takes an orphan to see what family truly means.  And from where I stand?  Family is everything.  It is my opinion that we become who raises us, whether we fight it or not-the cycle of abuse is the hardest one to break.  I don’t judge my sister, and I have forgiven her-she did not choose her childhood, and I think she bore the weight of the dysfunction.  I know that she loves me, and I know that she hates me.  I also know that I am not yet strong enough to reach out, but pray each and every day that God provides a way for us to coexist-without it costing my mental and physical health.  I learned that lesson with the loss of what is hopefully the last toxic relationship with the worst narcissist I have ever had the displeasure of knowing.

In the name of Jesus I break the Spirit of Jezebel that erodes familial love.  The slithery, dangerous one shall not prosper here.  Drink the blood of Jesus, Jezebel.

My heart reaches out to all of you who know this pain.  We are not an exclusive group, the victims of Narcissistic Abuse.  The crowd is growing, and we have so many excellent resources to choose from.  Below is one of my favorite videos about family relationships.   Angie Atkinson is wonderful, accessible on YouTube and she maintains multiple support groups.  The point is:  don’t try to do this alone, remember that even when your family hates you there will always be a bond through God and blood.  They love you, but in their own way.  It’s up to you to decide who you can and cannot live without.  God works miracles in our lives, each and every day.  Don’t give up hope-not a good place to be.  I take things one day at a time, and reflecting on how incredible my life has become since my rebirth?  I know that the Alpha and the Omega, who created Heaven and flat earth, 🙂  He has my back, always.

The best we can do is put it in our Abba’s sturdy hands-and know that he answers each and every one of your prayers; in a way that will enrich and embolden you.  He will prosper you in all of your ways, just go to Him.  He’s within you, beside you, and best of all?  For you.

Rumor Has It

 

I apologize for disappearing off of the face of WordPress-the fact is that I simply cannot keep up with the rapid fire Q drops, the wait-for-it has turned into the make-it-stop-but I wanted to touch base with my tribe.  The news is good, if you consider treason and attempted assassination good news: God is winning this battle, and those of us who have been closely investigating the entire QAnon phenomenon are enjoying the show.  John Q. Public, however, has no freaking clue because a good portion of them don’t know they’re being lied to-they don’t even suspect what is about to become mainstream-and in a very big way.

Awaken

But here’s the thing-through prayer and conversation with Jesus, I have realized that I have been going about this the wrong way.  I want to explain this whole movement, the Great Awakening that has been prophesized for years;  I must preface any further writing with a few facts:

I was asleep myself; for years.  I in no way judge those who are in the dark-we all live busy lives; if I had been working these past two years this wouldn’t be possible.

I believe that God has called me for this place and time in history-to fight for the truth to be told, and to be a loving force for those who are overwhelmed by the magnitude of what we are about to learn-the public will soon face some pretty horrifying stuff-I went through all eleven stages of grief while doing research about The Storm.  I learned of SRA (Satanic Ritual Abuse) human trafficking, the despicable evil the people we trusted were and are to this day capable of manifesting.

I must stress that what I share with you comes straight from the tippy top.  The Cabal will use the MSM to blatantly discredit the QAnon movement.  Inside Edition has called the phenomenon a “hateful cult,” when nothing could be further from the truth.  At some point, and very soon, there will be a FISA declassification that will take the scales from the eyes of the brainwashed masses.  I am here for the outcry-I am here to encourage and comfort you-as we all know, God is in control-he has this and we need to trust our very lives to a Lord and Savior who loves us more than we could possibly imagine.

So please be patient with me as I work hard to ensure you get the truth, and nothing but.

Be blessed~

Cuffed on a Dirt Road

 

Okay, I have a million different things on my mind, it’s my 26th wedding anniversary, and I forgot my husband’s card.  I have eleventy hundred boxes of cards-as a matter of fact?  I collect them.  I.  heart. cards.  Big time.  I guess I could use one of those, but hey-it’s not the same.  Somehow, spending twenty bucks on a card makes it mean more, and Hallmark?  You have enough of my money, thank you.

Dwain and I have moved mountains since we met, or should I say God has moved mountains for us.  Financial instability,  cancer, anorexia, a motorcycle accident, the almost-divorce, alcoholism and drug addiction, the death of my parents-issues that would normally drive a couple apart, only served to bring us closer.

I wanted to find a way, if underwhelming, to put those years into a blog.  But there aren’t enough hours in the day-I have so many memories, which will turn into stories, perhaps, one day.  So, here’s the Reader’s Digest version, ’cause it’s our day and my man is kicking me in my kidneys.

I was engaged to a decent man.  Or so I thought.  We brought out the worst in one another.  He became abusive on our honeymoon.  He knew I was in love with another man, and despite my pleas, we were married on June 9, 1990.  Allowing myself to be coerced, I made the worst mistake of my life.  I had cervical cancer at the time.  The stress was overwhelming.  I sent Dwain a card from my honeymoon.  

The marriage lasted one week.

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The biggest challenge and love of my life.

 

I moved in with Dwain not long after.

It was wild, all consuming, raw and passionate love.  We couldn’t keep our hands off one another, it was a sickness-a curse.  When he left the room, I ached.  When he came back?  I swooned.  We are still as passionate and crazy in love.

God protected us from murdering one another over the years.  Alcoholism.  Drug Addiction.  Anorexia.  A shit ton of mental health issues, denied grief and a violent temper-all on my part.  We never laid a hand on one another.  We have never cheated on one another.  Although, I deliberately tried to run him over when I caught him driving his secretary back from lunch one Spring afternoon, years ago.

We were poor.  Dirt poor.  His first wife took everything but his soul.  I was a violent, malicious drunk-and the tears flow every time I think of how I must have wounded him.  There was emotional abuse on both sides.   Cops.  Court orders.  And, finally?  Jesus.

He is the song I sing.  He will always have me, heart and soul.

What a beautiful gift He has given me!