Instant Karma

 

I don’t know about you, but I am sick to death of gloom and doom, evil that cuts you off at your knees, leaves you shaken, breathless.  The enemy is losing, in leaps and bounds, but the news, the mainstream?  They want you frightened and feeling vulnerable, to be honest, at times I don’t know what to believe, but I do believe in QAnon, and let’s just say the concentration seems to be about the blood lines, the Illuminati and their puppets-satanic symbolism and transference runs RAMPANT in every mode of entertainment to be had, the news is enough to make me cry, and never, ever stop.  But I need to stop investigating and start living.  I know more than I should, and by that I mean I wish I knew nothing at all-but then I wouldn’t be me, and I have felt spiritually led through the entire process.

I had a good week, socially.  Lunch with a friend two days in a row!   I actually made my commitments over the last few days, and it feels so, so good.  I also, after 40 years, began eating a small meal at lunch.  I had a hard time pulling it off as of late, I was having dizzy spells and acid gut.  Please………….I deserve it.

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This cracked me up this morning. Enough so that I actually posted on social media! 🙂

Speaking of deserving……how in the harry do these people sleep at night?  Do they hang upside down from trees, waiting for some unsuspecting dope to come along?  Do they NOT KNOW where they are going at the end of the day?   Seriously, what is their thought pattern?  They are blatantly throwing it up in our faces, but know this: they are running scared.  President Trump, with the aid of the United States military, has put a few of their Cabal buddies in GITMO.  Do they not see a common thread?  What did they THINK would happen when Trump began to wage a war, drain the swamp, look at evil so bleak that a group of NYC policemen vomited and wept when looking at evidence.  I hear they are all still receiving therapy.

So, karma is real, man.  I wouldn’t want to be a thug/pedophile/Satanist right now, because the tables are turning.  I am heartbroken and angry, but life is for the living and I have a heavenly father who wants me to thrive, to be genuinely content and at times, euphoric.  I try to have a sense of humor about these happenings, and I find great fun to be had looking into the Q Memes.

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The only, yet most important thing we can do right now is pray.  Pray like your lives depend upon it, He is listening, this I know.  Instant Karma’s gonna get you Bitches, it’s going to knock you right. in. the. face.

 

 

 

Nothing Here Has Changed…Just the Beat

It takes two to tango……..this song was running through my head this morning, as I slipped and slid through my morning hike.  The fallen leaves, combined with the morning rain, had made the bridges treacherous, and my golden retriever waited with great anticipation-if not impatience, as I crawled along at a snail’s pace.

Jesse sees something, immediately slows down, turns around to look at me.  So accustomed to being alone at this early hour, I never considered his eyes were on a human being.  Finding myself at the slipperiest slope, wet rocks crowding the trail, I look up:  there is indeed a man at the top of the hill.  I cannot see his hair, but I do see his metal detector.  I stop dead in my tracks.  Put down my back pack, and get out my mace.  I remember, instantly, that the man  who stalked me whilst half naked last Summer had one, and that the cops told me that this was against the law at MiddleCreek.  I thought, ‘OK, here’s where I faint, fall apart, run…….’  But the real shocker was this:  I had no fear.

I had just fallen, whilst trying to pee in the woods.  It surprised me how many leaves one can pull out of their naked ass cheeks, but they kept coming, my dog mildly alarmed, came over to aid in my getting it together, so I wasn’t operating at my full potential.  I decided to walk right up to him, hiding my mace in my pocket.  If he had red hair (as my stalker did) I would shoot him straight in the face….if not?  I would tell him that he was breaking the law.

Finally able to see the  man had dark brown locks, I stepped up to the plate.

“Excuse me sir, but watch yourself, those are illegal in this park,” I gently roared.

He reaches in his pocket.  I reach into mine.

“No Englais, por favor.”

With that he pulls out his treasure of the day.  One shell casing and two pennies.

I need to get a day job.

An Unkindness of Ravens

When I was frolicking in the New Age movement (please DON’T) I took notice that a cacophony of ravens followed me-from state to state in fact, and it took me some time to realize that this was not a good thing.  Between a well meaning Reiki Master (please DON’T) led me to Doreen Virtue’s angel cards, spirit guides, and the pineal gland.  

I came to my senses when I went to her immediately after being stalked by a naked, wild haired, crazy man-and she told me I created the scenario, you know, by thinking about it.  Kind of like The Secret, but backwards.  Most of you know I went through absolute hell getting out of such ridiculousness and evil.  The day of my plummet back into Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, I phoned my sister.

She never got back to me.

The same thing happened the day I was thrown down on my knees in utter sorrow, for the Holy Spirit had made it clear-I needed to apologize and repent.  I didn’t really have a choice in the matter-on my knees for what seemed like hours, repeating over and over:

I have grieved your heart.

I had never, nor do I hope to ever feel that sadness and despair again.

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When my anxieties multiply, your comforting calms me down. -Psalm 94:19

I had been praying recently, about trying to make things “right” with my sibling.  Abba answered that prayer rather quickly, as He reminded me that even though I have forgiven her, it doesn’t change who she is.  How could I possibly move forward without an apology, or even an attempt to  talk things out?

And what would become of my authentic self and the tough road walked to freedom from people who did not have my best interests at heart.  I cleaned the closet of close friendships, and wound up making new friendships.  And although I love my sister, and dearly miss my nieces and nephew?

I broke the chains that bound me.  I can never go back.

Never.

 

The Living Waters

May is Mental Health Awareness month, and in that spirit I dedicate this blog to all who are stigmatized, pigeon holed, persecuted or worse-because of circumstances often beyond their control.  You are my heroes: it is through extreme adversity and gut wrenching pain that you face each and every day.  It is my prayer that you are choosing healthy coping mechanisms and that Jesus is your Lord and Savior.  If not, I encourage you to follow my blog-not for me, but for you.  I’m not in this for a huge following; I am here to be the voice of comfort, reason and truth that I believe God has called me to be-a beacon in a time of darkness.

Please understand that I have never taken credit for my writing, whether you love it or hate it, the content comes from the Holy Spirit:  he speaks to me in different ways throughout the day.  By evening, I am writing-my version of what I believe to be Spirit-led writing.  I am what they call a sensitive-Abba has given me the gift of spiritual understanding.  Only in the past three years have I been aware of this gift from above-but I can say that I have struggled through tremendous adversity (but always under His loving protection) I believe that having lived a tortured life has led me to a greater compassion and love for others.  Sadly, my CPTSD makes it incredibly difficult for me to trust others with my heart and soul.

So, I don’t.

I have been texting my brother as of late.  We discuss political and social issues, and today I sent him a video from Abel Danger-explaining the spiritual warfare and global reset.  He has had trouble believing much of what I have written on the subject of our amazing president Trump, the Plan, or the Great Awakening.

So, my sister was one of the narcs who stopped just short of killing me.  I haven’t spoken to her in years, although I do pray for her.  One thing I’ve learned over and over through my many perpetrators is this:  if you don’t go no contact?  You are setting yourself up for greater pain, dysfunction and even severe health complications due to the constant stress of gaslighting, triangulation, projection and abject cruelty.  Even a short conversation could lead to a triggering of emotional flashbacks so severe, that it takes me weeks to come back to myself.

So, my brother lives in LA.  My sister lives in PA.

My husband called me in to see my niece Esme’s Instagram.  I looked down to see my brother on a scooter, but the voice in the video?  It haunted me.  Something is wrong with that tone, the insincerity-a false sense of excitement.

“There you go, Craig, you’re doing it!”  I insisted to my husband that it was my sister’s voice.  He balked.  He played it again and heard my brother in law’s voice at the end of the clip.  I took off into the kitchen, adrenaline pumping, anxiety rising.  I opened the frig door, and stared blankly into space, closed it, opened it again.

A few moments of despair, and it was over.

“Life is too damn good,” I said to myself.

Thus the end of the trauma.

Thank you, Jesus-for the head’s up.  And more importantly?  For walking every step of my  dark and lonely journey back to peace.

Come to the Living Waters, and drink from the cup of Life.

 

I Cut You Off……..

I have NEVER heard of this band, but I can tell you this-I will be listening from now on.

When it comes to Narcissistic Personality Disorder, I know a few things, and what I know brings me to my knees. The echoes of earlier years, when she and I were close and loving. The survivor’s guilt I feel, which makes no sense as I didn’t get away unscathed-anorexia, bulimia, OCD, CPTSD, alcoholism, depression and crippling anxiety? Yet I worry about the fate of my sister, I wouldn’t be human if I didn’t.

I miss her.  There, I said it.  I cannot fathom going through the rest of my life without her, yet I cannot fathom my life with her.  A lose-lose if there ever was one.  What I would love to do is help her, but she was never one to want my assistance.  I want to tell her that everything will be okay, it’s not your fault, just tell the truth and we as a family will deal with the repercussions.  I want to tell her that God has broad shoulders, and that we can talk it out.  I want to pick up the phone and call her, almost did the other day.

How can I have a relationship with her and remain sound of body and mind?  How could I learn to trust her again?  What will become of my family?

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This is what victims need to come to terms with: whether you lose a lover, a mother or a friend-you are losing the idea of who you thought they were.

And if you offer a hand to help them up and out of the muck and mire? Be prepared to see them walk away, because they don’t think they need help-they don’t think they have done anything wrong. Their brain is misfiring and they will think absolutely nothing of dragging you down with them, so FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT to ensure that you are physically, emotionally and spiritually prepared to go to war.

Then, once you have gone no contact? Enjoy the return of your creativity, self esteem and individuality.

No one can do this for you. Just remember: you are missing the ghost of the person you thought them to be.

Jesus, Take the Whole Car

 

Tomorrow will be Easter, and I dread it like the plague.  As I write, snuggled in my bed and nodding off-I can’t help but wonder why I am beleaguered by horrible holidays.  Oh, there’s been a few that were notable, but few and far between.

After my parents passed, the idea of any resemblance to a family dynamic flew directly out of the window.  There were arguments with his mother, as we wanted to see my nieces and nephew when given the opportunity.  Monster would fuss and fight, to the point that I began dreading what fortunate people anticipate with great joy.  It began when I met my husband.  Our first Thanksgiving together, and the first time my mother allowed Dwain in her presence, I remember well.  I woke early to feed the critters, and I was in such a happy tilly I could hardly contain myself.  I sang to the cats, danced in the Fall rain-I simply couldn’t wait to be with family.

The phone rang, for me.  News that my poor mother had fallen and broken her hip, whilst attempting to bake us pies.  In the hospital, she screamed in agony-my heart was filled with pain to see her in that helpless and vulnerable way.

That was the last holiday (with the exception of one Christmas with my daddy after mom went home) I would look forward to, and the last I care to remember.  These days, we go to my in laws-due to my having to live this fresh hell tomorrow, I’ll keep the details to a minimum.

It sucks dogs balls.

Three Easters ago, I was baptized in my current place of worship.  My sister had invited us to Easter-my annual sinus infection was in full gear, and in church I was dunked under ice cold water in an air conditioned building.  I was completely alone.  My husband had a stick up his apple, for some reason.  I remember the Spiritual Director taking me aside:

You’re here alone?  No family whatsoever.  Utterly alone.

Last Easter my step son and we were on the outs.  Dwain asked his mother to invite Bud for the afternoon, so we could visit before noon.  Actually, Dwain had hinted that it would be a good thing if maybe she could skip inviting him altogether.  Days passed, and the holiday loomed overhead.  As we were dressing, my man announced that Brad’s truck was already parked in his parents driveway.

She said nothing whatsoever to Bradley.  We stayed home.

This year, again we do not speak.  He doesn’t understand, even after living in the tragic past, that I don’t have my parents, no close family-not even a friend to spend the day with.  One Thanksgiving I spent the day in a nursing home, visiting a friend, and made no apologies.

I tried going to the Farmer’s market in town, after driving to Urgent Care (pulled a tick off of my chest yesterday) for ten days of Doxy, but after I saw the waiting room?  I left toute suite, not even remotely in the mood to wait at least an hour.

I understand that every one of us has to pick up their cross and follow our glorious savior Jesus.  My problems are one thousand percent insignificant in the grand scheme of things.  Maybe there will be holidays in heaven?

Nah.  He is a just and compassionate deity.

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Spirit in The Sky

Starving artists, one and all
Hear the caw,
The Raven’s call.

Charcoal paintings,
Photographs-
They beckon,
Mother Nature laughs.

The faeries dance
On fallen pine,
they bring such joy,
they’re friends of mine.

A bubbling creek or
mourning dove,
all are signs that
from Above,
You aren’t starving
after all,
but yearning for what’s free,
the love.