I didn’t want to go to Mass today, not at all. I woke full of flashback invaded dreams, remembered. I so wanted to curl in upon myself, drown in going away. Away from remembering, away from life. Stay in bed and pity my past me. To go where the victory of Christ is partaken of? Nope.
I wanted to be done, this journey seems never-ending at times. I will have my footing, then, wham, bam, I am down again. Down of heart and weary of mind. The final count to feel welcome. 1…2…3 she’s out!
Yep, that’s just how this morning was.
I was so lost in the feelings, the overwhelming emotions my child me suffered that my adult me wanted to throw in the towel.
I dreamt of the using and taking, the abuse rained down on me… thing is that wasn’t what was tearing at me when I woke. In my dream I was sitting alone, after, so forlorn. I was crying, not because of what was done to me, rather, because I couldn’t seem to dress myself. My clothes were inside out, a jumble at my feet and it felt as though I simply couldn’t do it. I cried that no one was there after, that I was so alone not only in the abuse but further abused as those that could and should have, didn’t as well.
Rather turned a blind eye, a deaf ear and an indifferent heart.
So, I had me a good cry to the Lord and begged Him to help me care in the now. He did, I still didn’t feel it, but He reminded me that I needed to go. I imagine my Guardian Angels wings whooshing as they propelled me forth. I certainly didn’t go in my own power.
Mass. The remembering and celebrating of the greatest sacrificial gift, ever. Mass. Where my Christ endured for me the very thing that I feel this day, betrayal. Mass. He to suffer again and again what was then for me in the now, flashbacks. Mass.
One of the hardest yet most helpful things for me as I heal has been to revisit the abuse and see my God there. Find how He was with me, yield the whole truth of then to Him that He be with me now as He was then.
This is what I was really wanting to hide from today, I wanted to give up and not do my part of the work in my healing. Imagine if my Lord had given up? Had called forth all of Heaven to save Him from the cross? He could have, yet He yielded, “Not my will, but thine be done.” He uttered to His Father.
So, there I was at Mass. A quivering, emotional mess, kneeling and crying, oh, so tired.
Then the homily was shared. Father to talk of how much we have to be thankful for. The beauty of life and creation ours to see, hear, experience.
It hit me then, all along I was heard, I was seen, someone was far from indifferent.
God my Father, Mary my Mother and Christ my Brother and Savior not only were then with me but are now.
I am home, now is safe, I have oh, so much to be grateful for.
For I am no longer then.
a place where it feels safe to hide
safe from the big people
secure from problems to big
where one can fly away at whim
laugh and play with abandon
but i know it is not real
rather a trap
a secret room in a game of hide and seek
me searching for me as i hides me
pretending doesn’t make it real
i don’t have pixie dust to fly away from here
to lift me from this trappedness i feel
i scared to fly into the storm that separates
at the swirl of the feelings that sent me here
i find i can’t hide from them no more
i want to go home to me
leave behind this ghost town of what was
so i need a ride
i never had rides before that i knowed where there
i do now
so to stay is to live a lie
so goodbye Neverland
i am journeying home today
starting even if it takes me awhile
i can even lie there and rest while the storm rages
my angel fights my Captain Hooks for me
i just trust
and believe in my momma Mary and papa God
remember that they want me home
they never ever wanted me to leave
the land i was never meant to live in
home is where i belong