Author: Mozayik "the souls' poet"

The true story told in poetry. I am a Real and Raw Poet and Author of ”The Souls’ Poetry” my soul's true story of its’ journey to healing from the pain of childhood sexual trauma. I blog about my three-year commitment to therapy and what life is like before and after healing. Decreasing the stigma of mental illness, inspiring women to tell their stories, and leading women To and Through Therapy is my mission.

Black Woman Walking with ptsd

I had a panic attack. I was afraid to leave my apartment. I cried, I prayed and I grabbed my box cutter, mace, gloves, mask and sanitizing wipes. I reminded myself that “I AM NOT MY FEELINGS” I went out and got my medicine because no one was coming to save me. I prayed that I would not be stopped by the police because they may not understand that I had to take the weapons to protect myself. They may think that I mean to harm them or they may use it as an excuse to kill me. All kinds of thoughts run through your head when you are a black woman living alone with ptsd.

I look back on 2020 and know that it was God that I held on to me, otherwise I never would have made it. I would have lost my mind, y’all know the rest of the song.

Thank God for therapy or else I probably would have just lay there and kept crying. This pandemic, the isolation, losing people that I love, and living alone with the constant uncertainty is starting to get to me. I am just keeping it real.

Crying helped me to release my emotions because I know that I am not my feelings so the sooner I face the fear and let it go the better.

BUT, I am exhausted from the unrelenting battle with fear. I am not paranoid. I have valid reasons to be afraid to step outside my front door. I was brutally beaten in the streets in July. I saw the man in my neighborhood again and he recognized me.

I came here to live because I was fleeing a domestically violent partner. I was unemployed and living in my daughters basement. They were the first people to give me a lease. I figured I would get in and get out but I had no idea what was about to happen.

I have been trying to move but the manager where I live is a Narcissistic  a-hole that has it in for me because I wanted to start a tenant associations to address the horrific conditions she expects people to live in.

One example is allowing raw sewage to run through the parking lot while people walked through it and took it back into the buildings during the Coronavirus Pandemic. I reported it and forced her hand with other things so every time I apply somewhere else she lies and says that I have bogus lease violations. It is a very long story.

I have a good job and I don’t want to live here anymore but she thinks she is making good on her threat that if I sue her “I wont have any place to live.” God is still in control though especially since I have done nothing wrong by trying to help improve our living conditions.

I know that I am not the only one going through things. I am just telling my little story. I am tired of Covid-19, tired of racism, tired of white people not getting, that, WE BEEN TIRED. Tired of fighting for the basic right to feel like I matter.

We are supposed to be celebrating the legacy of Dr. King but now we live in a world where Hatred is at an all-time high. It is all very disheartening. I know I will survive. I always do, but I need a f***ing break.

#AnAfricanAmericanWomanWithPTSD

PTSD & Domestic Violence

triggering event

flash back to the past

reliving as child

helplessness learned

feels familiar

even if abnormal

sometimes alone is safer but inflicts more pain

and the cycle repeats again and again

running

looking for rescue

anybody will do

just so i can make you love me

hate me

leave me

abuse me

so, I can make true

nobody loves me

isn’t that what you did to me

because it was done to you

so, we are stuck in this maze of abuse

today though, I’m really freaking tired of everyday being about you

I’m still running away while clinging to you

I don’t know how to separate me from you

yvette mozayik circa 2017

this poem fell onto the paper like most

#DomesticViolenceAwarenessMonth

#GirlGetYouSomeHelp

from your mama

you had to learn that life is not fair

play by the unjust rules or lose

they set you up just to tear you down

whatever goes around comes around

there are some things we can’t change

some things we cannot manipulate

try as we may

there really is a thing called fate

destiny if you believe

the universe is under God’s control

take a minute to think about it

the earth keeps turning

the sun forever shines

the moon revolves around us

and birds always chirp

summer comes, winter goes

trees bud each and every spring

it rains when the heavens declare it should

nothing we can do to stop it

if we could just trust in the universal laws

the world keeps turning but we don’t fall

plant a seed deep in the ground and watch it grow

from a tiny seed to a mighty tree

stop, think about it for a minute

if we would just believe

it’s hard when all around us we see injustice

every day they try to take our dignity

but you are in control ultimately

of what you let them plant in your soul

take the good, plant it in you

can’t find it out there in the world

find it in yourself

nurture goodness and peace

it will grow inside your soul

you really do reap what you sow

tell them go ahead hate me

because I believe in justice and equality

but one day just like a seed

I’ll grow into a mighty tree

I’ll be a power to be reckoned with

I held onto what I believed

I didn’t let you plant your seeds of negativity in me

I became responsible made good choices

held on steadfastly to the belief that

what I put out there is what I’ll receive

by mozayik ‘the souls’ poet’ 1997

for Melisa when things were hard

Fear is Ilusion

2 Timothy 1:7 KJV

For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.

I am no longer comfortable using the word fear or the word afraid. The other day I told my daughter that I was not coming out because I was afraid of coming out after dark. Fear feeds anxiety.

Because I have been given a sound mind and because of the love I have for my own wellbeing I am empowered by the spirit of god that lives in me to make a wise decision and protect myself. There are many rational reasons why it is not wise for me an African American Woman to go out alone in the dark during these unprecedented times.

From now on I will to be focused on the fact that because of the spirit of God that lives in me I do not have to fear anything.

Fear is illusion. Trusting God requires fearlessness.

#INeededThatLesson

God is my source

I feel compelled to share this. When I was 16 I had Agoraphobia. I could not even open my front door and step less than 4 feet to get the mail out of the mailbox. I understand now that Agoraphobia is what was going on. I don’t know how I overcame it but I do remember doing some breathing and meditation techniques I learned from a psychology book I had checked out of the school library.

This is why I say that our soul knows what we need to heal.

I don’t believe that I am any different than anyone else. I believe we all have it within us to thrive. But, just in case I was called out to learn so that I can teach. I am sharing this with you in hopes there is someone that needs this information, You can heal, you can transcend the pain. It sucks that you have to do it and sometimes you have to do it alone but God is always with you. In your soul are all the answers.

Lately, I have had a very hard time leaving my apartment. This Pandemic, the politics of the pandemic, the protests, the continuous news loops of people that look like me being murdered in cold blood, the politics, and again the politics has been going on for so long. I will be 60 soon and I have seen it all before. There is something different this time.

I am a baby boomer so it is a beautiful sight to see our grandchildren leading the way to justice for all.

There are no instructions as to how to navigate through this except the most simplistic of all and that is the basics of washing hands, staying at least 6 away, and wear a mask. We all are finding a new normal.

I plan to make it out alive and thriving.

God is the source and strength of my life. God removes all pain, misery, and strife. God promised to keep me and never leave me. God has always been my provider, my way maker, and my comfort.

Be encouraged whoever you are that needed to know that this too shall pass and God got you just like all the times before.

🙌🦋👑#GirlGotSomeHelp #MeAndGodWeGotThis

erroneous core belief #1

I had a core belief that I did not deserve to be treated well. Of course, this is an expected response to abandonment, neglect, rape, and abuse. How else was my psyche able to allow this assault on my person, on my innocent soul?

It killed my healthy self-image. Convinced me that, I, the victim deserved this because I was bad and nobody cared. I had been programmed to expect to be traumatized.

I was guilty of not being enough. I was guilty of everything that had ever happened to me. I was guilty of ruining everybody’s life. I was fucking guilty if I did not buy the right toothpaste.

guilty felt normal

grandma said my mother did not want me

so I was guilty of being a burden

guilty of being unwanted

guilty of needing love

guilty of not adequately paying the debt I owed

for  never being enough  no matter how hard I tried

mother said I was crazy cause Mamie j  raised me

after she abandoned me

it was my grandmothers fault for doing

what my mother did not

I was not enough to be kept

I was not enough for her to love me unconditionally

so I kept running into the arms that made me

feel like my mother

so I could one day be enough for her to love me

but just like my mother

they abused and abandoned

they were narcissistic just like she

but that was then

now my boundaries abound

I see the  truth of who I am

I no longer need trauma bonding

my trauma brain synapses are rewired

the holes in my soul are filled with self-love

by mozayik thesoulspoet.com

5.5.2020.1.33p

 

 

 

music is my lover

music is my drug of choice

my constant companion

through all of this terror

it saves me minute by minute from madness

I turn it off , it keeps playing

I get lost in thought,  it keeps swaying

soothing me with lyrics of the last song that wooed me

music touches my soul, my hair follicles, my toes

I start groving and the next thing I know

me and music are rocking and rolling

until I am totally holding

freedom

in the palms of my hands

my fingers keep poping

while I drop it like its hot

before I know it me and music are in love

and we ain’t to proud to show it

music is my lover

my drug of choice

call me a gleeful forever addict

i get high

so i can fly

away on my lyrical horses

above the noises

by mozayik ‘the souls’ poet’

circa 4.2020

I finally killed George.

Healing is amazing. The man that raped me at 5 was named George. Before therapy anytime I heard the name George I would immediately be transported in my mind to him raping me. So I avoided George at all times. If I overheard the name I had to put my armor on. Without even knowing it that name had the power to send me to my bed for days.

Where I work the Fitness Instructor’s name is George. We were in an African performing arts group in the late ’90s together but I knew him by another name then.

I do believe that my steps are divinely ordered.  I believe this situation was tailor-made for me. When I first heard his name I did not run home to my bed. I don’t even think I recognized it as a past trigger.

Because he worked there his name was called out frequently. I would sometimes give George a ride home. On one occasion he asked me to take him to Walmart and then we would go to lunch, his treat. Well, the place “he” had chosen objectified women. I felt uncomfortable because of the staff’s attire. Most people’s bra and panties have more coverage than these young women were wearing.

He started going on about someone he knew really liked asses. I stopped him mid-story and told him that I did not objectify women. After that, I had to set some clear boundaries with George. The women at work say he was testing me. I stopped being chummy with him.

George had a stroke. Every day now his name is called out by people asking how he is doing. I am the person at the front desk. I am usually the one giving an update about his progress.

The George that raped me at five is dead to me now.

I have become desensitized to that name. Flashbacks, nightmares, and hypervigilance caused by George are a thing of the past.

This is what healing feels like.

The George that raped me at 5 was murdered in prison. I don’t know this to be true but my memory is that my Father got the word out that he had raped his little girl and they killed him.

Before therapy, he was still alive for me. I wanted to kill him so badly. I thought that it was unfair that he was dead. I was angry because I could not make him suffer.

As I write this I take deep breaths and release any residual energy still tied to that event in my life. I made it to the promised land of happiness.

Ding Dong George is Dead, Finally.

 ‘PTSD & me’

#FeelingSafeIsABasicNeed

someone walks into the room quietly and i jump
the startle reflex is the dominant symptom of the day
that was yesterday
today
i hyperventilate as i drive back home
i saw a man walking in the dark around our doors
I am triggered by this, i am tired, i have not slept
i am trying to put fear back on the shelf
understanding is far and i am just a complaint
my body hurts, i have struggled with chores
while trying to take care of my health
if i try to explain how i have felt
it is always and never
go back to your happy place self
the throw away is imminently dealt
the rejection, the judgment because i am myself
could i just not be me
i struggle with accepting me the way i are
i am scarred
i am scarred
i may even be broken but
most of the time i am just angry
about the battle days with fear
gripping me tight choking out safe light
i must fight to let it go
i must tell my mind that this is not then
and it is not happening again like before
so many befores’
so many befores’
sometimes they come rushing out the doors of my soul
in a second
a simple moment
i could lose control
i could stumble down the dark hole of ptsd
hypervigilance, easily startled, just fucking afraid of everything
it affects my breathing, my being
at least after therapy
i know what is happening to me
i can use my breath to regain free
i can breathe to release my body from this memory
my soul reminds me of who i am and the awesome power to live is me
in a single moment
i breath
shutting the door to the past
accepting me
even if no one else gets it
i still must love and live with myself
my superpower is the unconditional love that resides in me
fear is not really a factor
God lives in me
bring it on fear
i only need to breathe
to be free
by mozayik ‘the souls’ poet’
4.9.2019 716a

It is finished

I have not been promoting my book because that journey has ended. I don’t know where I would be without poetry. I was born a poet because that is what I needed to give voice to my pain. I bled onto the pages and it helped to heal me.

The poems in my book tell the story of my healing. It is amazing to me how clearly the poems actually chronologically portray my healing process.  The title was My Healing Journey and I actually published and printed the part of the book that was finished at that time in 2008.

My healing journey was not complete, though.  The book has gone from 48 pages to 80 pages. It seemed it would never be complete because every editing session triggered me.  I would spiral down into depression,  get into therapy and when I felt better or I allowed myself to be distracted I stopped therapy.  there were also other reasons I had to stop, like insurance or lack thereof.

The book became one of my biggest motivators to continue therapy.  I could clearly see my progress but also see where there was more work needed. I started to realize that my soul knew what I needed to heal. So I trusted it. It became apparent that the book would not get published or even completed until I healed. 

The book became a labor of self-love. It became my promise to God that I would give my gift at no cost. Writing is the tool or gift God has given me to heal myself and to heal others. It is better to give.

A therapist once told me that after I did the work to heal that I would be happier than I could imagine. I did not believe her but I had to try and see what the end was going to be. What did I have to lose? I had happiness to gain, so I  finally committed to therapy because being in pain became unbearable.

I got very serious about healing once I started having flashbacks. I had to face the fact that I suffered with PTSD.  As it is often said,  when the student is ready the teacher will appear. In January 2012 I was led to the YWCA where I spent over 3 years healing from childhood sexual abuse.

My therapist told me that I could be healed from PTSD and Fibromyalgia. She was right. It is true, that if you heal the mind you heal the body. Depression hurts.

I went over 3 years without therapy but the journey was not over. I still dealt with anxiety. Depression was and still is a thing of the past.  I still had to heal from domestic violence among other things that had left side effects.

I don’t regret any part of my journey. I am a powerhouse now for women that are healing or want to start healing.

I was born with a calling to tell women that they can be free from the pain that stops them from being all that they want to be. God has used me to pull women from the edge of the ledge. I am sure I could not even imagine how much God has used me to tell women they can be free.

So I regret nothing. I was called out to endure and heal to say, “Girl get you some help”.

This last year in therapy and the last domestic violence experience gave me valuable lessons.  Iyanla VanZant said, “There is value in the valley”. 2019  took my understanding of why I and many other women keep choosing the same type of person. We attract to us the people we need to heal. Sounds a little skewed but it is true. When we heal that part of ourselves we no longer need that situation to mirror our pain.

I have learned about things like Trauma bonding and The Trauma Brain and Narsacism as well as what it means to be an Empath. I count it all Joy. This information was essential for me to complete my journey to healing.

I decided ten years ago to take control of my life and make the necessary changes to have a better quality of life. I needed my children to be proud of me. I wanted them to see that Mama worked hard to get her shit together. I wanted to show not tell them that asking for help is a sign of strength and if you are willing to do the work you can change.

Now it is time to thrive. Now it is time to teach. Now is the time to reach even more women with the message, “I promise on the other side of healing is Happy”.