Tag: Memory

*****Shadows****

I wrote this poem when healing from narcissistic abuse. My therapist asked me the question, “Who was your first narcissist?” This is the epiphany.

I kept marrying my mother

Over and over, I begged her to love me

To hold me, laugh with me, instead of mocking me

She abandoned me and I never knew

When or if I would ever see her again

So over and over I begged her to love me

To hold me and never let me go

I kept marrying my mother over and over

The all behaved just like her

Intently looking for places to dagger me to death

The buildup, the let down

Lying on me so the story sounds

true for those in the neighborhood

I am gifting, finally

My permission to hate who you were

I will take that hate and transmute it to self-love

Accepting

It is not me

My guilt was that I destroyed my children

Because it was so hard to be a mother

When the first time I can remember

she abandoned me when I was three

she called me a murderer to hide her degradation

I was scapegoated while she lied on me continuously

This is why, I keept sacrificing everything

Begging her to love me

the same narcissistic cycle

my brain was programmed that way

narcissists loved bomb me without apology or acknowledgement

of the blood drawn from my soul

I was the best ever

Until they got cold

After that, I wasn’t shit

I just waited until

I was the bomb diggity again

Soon we would be out on display again

Outside the doors life was grand

Within those walls though

Your ass was a (female dog)

3.14.2020.9.50a

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

 

 

 

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”.

Healing Brings Good Memories

I know I have healed because I can remember the many great things I had as a child. I now have fond memories and they now cover up the bad memories. The good memories bring me joy, cause me to break out and smile while bringing happy tears to my eyes. A walk down memory lane is now filled with gratefulness. I don’t hesitate to walk down memory lane. It is a pleasant welcome experience. That is freedom.

I was raised by two great women my grandmother Mamie and my great grandmother Bertha. Cara my aunt also shared in raising. Tragically, I never saw them in a healthy relationship with men. However, I never heard them be mean to anyone. I did not overhear them plotting about revenge.
I saw them work together to accomplish goals like being homeowners. I saw them share with friends, family, and neighbors.

Healing has allowed me to see the glorious upbringing these women gave me. I am who I am because of them. I am kind-hearted because they were kind-hearted. I have a passion for helping people just like they taught me to be. I believe in order and setting boundaries like they taught me.
They also taught me to fight back, stand on my own two feet and don’t take no shit off nobody. Just as they taught me to pray and trust God. They also taught me to be ready to protect myself. I really saw no fear in them at all.

One man got rowdy with my grandmother when I was about eight or nine and she got her gun and run his ass out of the house. We never saw or heard from him again. I saw them have male friends but no live-in man. A man did not ever spend the night.
They worked and provided for themselves. I started working at eleven cleaning offices with my grandmother. They taught me by example and word that “If you don’t work, you don’t eat”.

They poured so much love into me. My great grandmother would hold me and rock me in her rocking chair while reading the bible to me. This has to be my fondest memory of her. I thank God that I can carry these memories with me in my heart every day. There is no more rain in this cloud. I found the silver lining. All the hard work has been worth it. #Healed

survivor (when my own soul encouraged me)

you are a survivor girl
stand up and be strong
you’ve made it
through storms of  hard times

you’ve seen bad marriages
the letdowns of dreams
but you’re still here

so it seems you can’t make it
seems you can’t see your way
but you’ve made it this far girlfriend
you survived, through it all till this day

go ahead on and be strong.
you’re a survivor because
you’ve hung in there this long.

gone girl with your bad self
only you know what you can do.

just try it.
just believe in your self.

don’t wait for somebody
to tell you that you can make it through.
you know what you’ve got to do

reach deep down inside yourself and
pull out what has been there for so long
stand up and be strong.

girl whatever it took
to make it through a bad marriage
to a drug addict and wife beater

whatever it took to make it
through abuse and rejection

whatever it took when
you were put down

lied to and talked about

but you made it through
you held your head up high
and you kept on going

girl, you can do it
all you gotta do is
stand up and be strong

believe in your self

you are a survivor girl

go ahead on

to the next lover, she grew up

I know I am healing because in the past I would be on to the next lover. This time though, I am guarded. I should have always had a fence around my heart. It is healthy to safeguard everything about your person.

That is a good thing. I should be protecting my energy. That is self-love. I guess I have finally mothered the hurt little girl in me. I grew up in an environment where I was not protected. I had no clue about boundaries.

My grandmother allowed me to smoke cigarettes at eleven. I was home alone responsible for another child just 6 years younger than me. I was ‘the’ adult. I literally ran the house. I made the grocery list, went shopping, and cooked the food as well as cleaned up after meals. I paid the bills and balanced the checkbook. I did all these things every day from the age of 11. I behaved like a grown woman because I had grown woman responsibilities.

With therapy, I was able to understand that I had had no childhood. I was abandoned and left to my own defenses at a very early age.

Now that I know how to protect my body, mind and energy, and soul. I understand the behavior that was not serving me well in my adult life. As a child the behavior protected me.

I am still unlearning a lot of misinformation and dysfunction but at least I am not on to the next. I am confident in being able to love myself first. I am confident that although I still will have to deal with the fear of being alone, I am not alone. God is with me because God lives in me.

I am enough for me.

NO, and NO I am not alone.

Whew! I am one of those people. The kind that starts immediately looking for the lesson in the situation so it can be over with and I can move on in this journey of healing.

I lost it today as someone stood at the end of my bed. belittling me and talking to me as if I were a child. I forgive myself for giving her another chance. She called and said what I wanted to hear and boom, right back to the same ole same ole dysfunction.  I asked for my possession and she refused to give it to me and I admit it. I lost it. I lunged at her from my hospital bed trying to get my car keys. she refused to give them to me so I got out of my bed and ran down the hospital hallway to get my keys. I got them too, but not without much embarrassment.

I learned that I do have a breaking point. We all do, but staying away from people that bring out the worst in me is the top priority. I am a force now because as I said, lessons are the most important. I really believe life is going to be filled with nothing but positivity. People that play with your mind are dangerous.

I am sorry for taking my family and friends with me on this journey to love. We don’t usually consider how our choices affect our loved ones that have witnessed you suffer needlessly. Healing is a process. Most women go back to an abuser 7 times before actually leaving and staying gone. I will talk more about that in upcoming blog posts.

I did not get real with therapy until I was 50 years old when I found myself cowered in the corner of my bedroom having flashbacks of when I was left home alone at 5. So this 8 year journey has been an education if nothing else. There have been gaps along the way but it has been probably a good 5 of those 8 were spent in therapy.

It became my mission to free myself and destroy patterns and pathologies in the family tree so that “we can rock the future generations without dysfunction”.

So anyway, let me get back to the point. I learned a lot about myself with these last, ugh, few uh, well let us call them revelations.

I learned that I was still co-dependent. I saw it from a different perspective by listening to my dear friend even though we have not ever met in person, Sherry Dickerson. She talked about needing to be needed was classic co-dependency.

I kinda sorta knew that but the way she put it just made all the circuits of codependency go off in my brain.

Finally, I really get it.

I will always go to therapy when things come up that I need support with, the best place to go is to a Mental Health Professional. That can not only listen and validate your feelings but will also give you tools to use while you heal.

I learned that I have been telling myself a lie about being alone.

My son and his wife and my grandson came to see me at the hospital. I did not call him and I should have. I did not want to bother him. That is that old tape playing in my head from childhood that says he is too busy to be bothered with me.

Let me say that none of my children have ever made feel bad about asking for help. I just don’t ask that is my issue. I see that and it does not serve my highest good to not allow my children to be there for me. It is a blessing for both parent and child when our children bless us with their care and concern.

My daughter checked on me throughout the evening and day.

Another son contacted to make sure I was okay.

I have a lot of friends. I have a lot of Facebook friends that prayed with and for me.

I have a great support system. My girlfriends have my back. These are friends from way back 30 or 40 years or more.

No matter what, even if they have to tell me I am wrong, they will still support whatever I decide to do with my life.

NO, and NO I am not alone. God is with me, and in me so I will always have love. I will not be dying alone. that is a lie from hellacious energy cause hell is right here on earth.

I learned how to let go. I am a Cancer so that is a hard one for me. People tend to take my kindness for weakness. I am not stupid. I am kind. But when I realized that I can not trust you, and sometimes it takes me a long time because I have issues, but, baby, you get no more of my goodness. So I am working on keeping my goodies for the one that will appreciate them. I may have already overlooked her but I wasn’t ready. After all of the drama of the last few months, I am still not ready. That is a great place to be.

I learned that I am poised for greatness.

I also learned that my mouth could impede my growth.

I am a fighter. I fight back. I won’t allow you to do me any kind of way but on the flip side, I learned about my Trauma Brain and Trauma Bonding and a lot of other stuff about trauma and why some of us, especially survivors, keep having the same challenges.

I am even more committed to helping women. When I research and help you I am helping myself. As I encourage you, I encourage myself.

Believe me, I know when to quit, although it may appear that I don’t, and that is okay. I am going to continue letting God lead the way and keep on getting these lessons. This education will catapult me to the next level. I count it all joy, even the F*** ups. As long as we learn, hey, it is all good, right?

Thank you for letting me be myself again

Mozayik

8.18.19.4.41