How’d I Get Here?

[My blog will evolve as needed and directed over time, kinda like Me...but this is where it all started...]

Hey. So, you wanna know? First, there’s a perfectly good explanation why this page is hiding three levels down in my blog…with no sidebar navigation to it…written as a page, not a post, to slow down the search engines. I could name that tune in one word — Courage. Huh? See, this little page is was pretty obscure in my blog right now (but not forever) because…as a grown woman healing from years of child sexual abuse — spanning A to I (abduction to incest), crossing race and gender — I need to take baby steps, like this page, to break the silence. This is a glimpse of the rebirth of Courage.

It’s probably wise for me not to just come out with a tell-all novel that wraps my Truth in fiction. I’ve got to babble a bit, learn to crawl and pick myself up when I fall, learn to feel comfortable in the vibrations of survivorship, when not so long ago, I denied to myself that I was even a victim. Pretended nothing happened. Denied everything! Hmm, worked for about thirty years. Until my over-production of strength (and under-production of self-honesty) started polluting my body’s internal functions. Hiding behind my sista-soldier-got-it-goin-on mask, happy marriage with 2.3 kids (.3=our cat lol), successful entrepreneur with six-figure income.

Yep, I almost got away with murder. I put a hit on every last memory that would testify against my fraudulent exterior…throat slit, spine knicked was the command (that’s how much I despised what happened to me). Buried them lower than six feet under….pretty skillful with a shovel, I am. Then one day, enter God. “It’s time for you to heal.” Boy did I hope that was Charlton Heston playing games lol. Of course I responded…”Huh? From what? I dunno whatcha talkin’ bout. I’m fine.” As much as I tried to resist and play it off, I eventually surrendered to my call to heal, and began the journey on 1-1-1 (Jan. 11th) that would change my life forever.

I didn’t choose to write. It chose me. It came inside my healing package – tools and supplies I’d need on this journey. Made sense. Writing is kind of a lifesaver when pain grips your vocal chords…puts your verbal on lock. You gotta get it out someway, somehow. The more I tried to communicate verbally, about anything, the more my words came out all jacked up lol. Misunderstood by everyone left and right. Don’t get me wrong, I could speak…ran my business…interacted with family some — it just took soooo much energy. Energy I ended up wasting, because in the end, they didn’t get it. So, I turned inward and started writing. And today with sista-soldier reprogrammed into this softer, gentler, ‘let’s hug and Love’ chic lol (showing emotions was a no-no…and I had never met, nor could I spell I-n-t-i-m-a-c-y back then), I’m really throwin’ folks off...even myself some days. Weird…Different…

My writings started with poetry. Progressed into prophetic poetry. Huh? Have you ever written (typed) something that was dictated to your spirit? You didn’t want to write, had no idea what to say or how (as a matter of fact, I was about to pass out from another panic attack, and could barely see the screen through my tears). Wow, a very humbling experience. It let me know that even though I knew for sure I was dying, and wanted to realllly badly, God was still with me. Even though I had long before cursed Him for tricking me into this ‘healing’ business….”what the..?…me and the pain had a deal”.

Anywho, after two years of hard, emotional labor, counseling/therapy, botched suicide plans, self-imposed solitary, loss of physical health (three separate tumor-based diseases diagnosed in Aug. ‘06) from the chaos of pain, flashbacks, unforgiveness …..wow!….by the grace of God I’m not only making progress, but substantial breakthroughs. Today, I’m learning how to nurture, maintain balance, and LOVE ‘new’ me.

So much of me has been revealed to me…my childhood, family, my coping mechanisms/walls/masks, causes/effects (promiscuity, fear of abandonment, lack of feeling safety & Love), choices I’ve made, perceptions, beliefs….ahh! I had to start writing it all down, mainly because I couldn’t believe this was my life (neither did I want to believe it….ignorance was bliss). When the words came to me, they came as a story….my bizarre life story on a screen, only now I could watch with my eyes and heart wide open, recognizing purpose. Since writing had become a close companion, I decided to write a book about my experiences…my life…this journey.

If you’re going to be a writer, you have to write (and read)! About something. Anything. Exercise those writing muscles. So, I landed here in the blogosphere to do just that. And the rest?…well, some of it is history….most of it is ‘herstory’, living in the pages of a manuscript I hope to publish as my first novel, a psychological thriller .

So, that’s the greatly abridged version of ‘how did I get here’. This was really a trip to talk about…writing about it is still a soothing balm as I near completion, wholeness, and balance. Time has a way of making things easier to deal with, ya know?

Can I be honest? As much as I’m still shedding remnants of fear, shame/embarrassment, guilt, and some other crap, my heart feels a little lighter having shed some of the silence too. Guess what I’m saying is…I appreciate you taking time to read. Thanks. ~Me