Hate...

Some days I sit in silence, in dismay, in a land of loss and frustration, wandering aimlessly mentally searching for purpose, for who I am within in my heart of hearts...God knows me, loves me and the question that raises its ugly head occasionally is...'why?'

I search for who I am now, in the aftermath of battle, of war waged on an uneven playing field...it is not Sparta and far from it...I view signs of cowardice, in fact pieces of me floating in the ionosphere still in fear of, anxious of, worried over, like a dog with a bone...

I hate the anger and need for someone, anyone, to understand the pain that has taken up residence in every cell...it is not always so dear treasures...just as it is not always hyper-positive emotions in Happy Town...most mornings I rise with a glad heart, thankful for the beauty of spring sunrise, the smell of coffee in the air, that first sip of heaven...however, as with all things, there is a need for balance, and that balance requires slots of time to release negative thoughts, hateful intrusive thoughts and perform some intense surgical self-care.

This morning after the usual scheduled time with my patient, I sat in the truck just soaking in the grace, the care, the compassion, the incredible resilience of the man I just left and reflected on my own character and honour system; thinking with a tweak here and a tweak there, I may be able to live up to such standards set out before me in both him and his beautiful wife.

As we spoke during the couple of hours spent, we contemplatively and quietly talked of competition, the ever pressing need to be RIGHT, in people... I realized I did not feel the need to compete with anyone around me, I was, in fact, in constant competition with myself to be better, to do better, to accomplish much in the time I have left in this world, however long that may be. It was a revelation to me...most days epiphanies come hard, others they slip out with surprising ease. Today was that day...

Things I miss...waking with that special someone and making coffee, sitting in relative silence appreciating the taste, the smell of that first jolt of caffeinated goodness.

Laughing til tears fall, cheeks hurt, gut-busting moments shared...

Cooking together...me the souz chef, him the main man, cooking up some damn fine meals.

Oh yes, there were good times my friends...this is the creation and genius behind manipulation, confusion jogging to keep up and joining ranks....the good times take up perhaps a third of the events.... however, during these relatively peaceful moments is the underlying persistent and frightening wait for that bomb to drop, the world to spin the opposite way round, similar to his head performing swivels worthy of the Exorcist, gnashing of teeth and foaming at the mouth in insanity-filled rage....sooooo not really peaceful, nor comforting but rather a testament to the conditioning, the training exercises to be sure fear is firmly rooted in the lost ones brain.

I miss the man he could have been, would have been, should have been, after all the promises and sweet honeyed lies fell from his lips. That man was somebody and nobody, a false front, con man wearing a mask...and is the root behind all the victim/survivor angst...shown in the beginning, let there be light...until one day night creeps in and the real man reveals himself. It is a mix of impassioned fakery and very real evil...

I do not miss the quick 0-60 anger, the sense of underlying doom ready to befall at any given second. I don't miss the cheating, the betrayals, the hidden moments of obsessive self-pleasure and gratification, the lying, the hiding....God, I could go on and on and feel I may have done just that ad nauseam...

There is no shame in loving dear hearts, no shame nor remorse, truly...the shame comes from understanding that we made choices based on fear and trepidation...we stayed because we loved, but embarrassment comes from knowing we were manipulated in such a way and to such an extent. Plunged into a world we understood existed but without knowledge of how we ended up at this particular point on our life path.

Repeated and regular communication with the monster brought on anger, retaliation and attack...silence was best until that broken down woman within and the grieving child screamed enough to be heard and the words would pour forth; truth spoken gently but with intent and was rewarded with an intense verbal backslapping barrage, each and every time.

The way is not simple nor uncomplicated....it is full of pitfalls, trips, spills and an agony of emotion. 'Here there be monsters' is no joke, instead a momentous understatement.

Healing journeys are fraught with high sea storms and gale force hurricanes knocking you off your feet...we get up again to fight another day, and another until the storms retreat and the skies clear.

We will make it dear treasures...one mighty step at a time, for each step on that path brings us closer to the top of the mountain, the end of the rainbow, to true freedom.

Walk it out my friends and speak your truth; with kindness, with grace, with dignity, for your words will either haunt you or comfort you in their memory replay. Choose wisely...