Yet I Live

“Nothing is better for self-esteem than survival.”
moluscators
If not for the Lord, my life is lost, my soul buried beneath issues and vanities. In my longing for a father, I find it in Him. He teaches me wisdom and picks me up when I’ve once again skinned my spiritual knees. When I make mistakes, and they’re many, when I choose the wrong road, and that’s often, He forgives, directs, and provides for me. This is my testimony that thus far, I shouldn’t have made it alive, much less profitably, and still I’m here. My way is full of enemies who hate for no reason, other than color, or jealousy, or because I refuse to die. I’ve seen them tapping their foot, looking at their watches wondering, “When will he fade out?” For that I’ll give thanks again to my Daddy, my heavenly father, who puts light back into the burnt out shell of me. The devils know me as I walk past, whispering “Thissss issss he who left us and yet lives!” Yes, I live, at times only a breath away from crossing over to the evil camps of malignant foreboding that shudder with anger at my betrayal. My body belongs to that camp but with the help of my Father, I’m able to choose whether or not I stay there. That choice is my everlasting evidence that God is real, for where He to be my fantasy, surely you’d read of the savagery of my soul and the punishment of madness that overcame my mind. Thank you Father for the self control you give me and teach me to use. Those choices are hard, and as with all discipline, painful. I press on, with no turning back, to see what things will be revealed in the blasted lands of my life.

Rescue

“and it was he who some fifteen feet down spotted the body of the young man  floating like uprooted seaweed, upward, a brilliant white in the underwater space, and it was he who grabbed the body under the arms and brought him up, and also he who made the young man vomit all the water he had swallowed.” ― Roberto Bolaño, 2666  
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Wave after wave full of debris. It’s not just the water, it’s the stuff in the water that hurts. I’ve learned through years of playing in these waves, how to hold my breath to wait out the turbulence above. Being beneath the ocean isn’t always a bad thing, but necessary for my survival as I dive into the deep to let the rolling trouble pass. Lately I’m a land dweller and though having never entered the ocean for years, I can still learn from those water bound lessons. It’s not so much the living, the actual breathing and going through the days that brings the danger, but its the stuff that’s in the living that hurts. 
There are many ways I’ve held my breath to get under the trouble. Substances, relationships, danger seeking (i.e. adrenaline junkie), have all held me below. With all this avoidance and struggle its nice when I see a boat. That’s how God intervened in my life. He sailed through the storm and found me gurgling and diving just to survive the day. With loving hands he picked me up, asking nothing from me. I never made promises to Big Daddy (that’s my affectionate name for God), saying “I’ll do this or that if you save me”, I was just a panic ridden, scared to death young man who needed the rescuing power of God which He was happy to provide. 
You may not appreciate this power to rescue but believe me, when trouble comes and your life ebbs, you’ll grab any hand. Though not just anyone could save me because I have this tendency to jump right back into the frothy waters, that’s all I knew how to do. His hand not only rescued me but gently held me in the boat long enough to help me expel the water I swallowed and show me that I can ride the waves for exhilaration. That’s the wonder and love I have for Big Daddy, he teaches me a better way. So here I go, pushing ahead to the other side fully aware that though I feel like the waters will swallow me, I’ll still be saved.

A Death Called Dove

“What a short time I had been given to experience love. I felt as my life had only recently begun and now it would surely end at sunrise.”
Meredith Taylor
sweetesttootsieroll
Found then a little dove cowering in the birth of new
A blade came near and scant to miss
only a hairs breath relinquishing bliss
Flying before her time with wind both a friend and foe
Thinking to see, her wings grow tired
Blind fear rushes never more inspired
A shy grasp at what becomes a mysterious fateful lore
Trying but giving away the hidden life
Reduced to nothing and shut in by strife
Again the hungry clock stood its watch over gentle dove
Only to alight were she would never to fly
Wings fail to carry her to comforting sky
Talented feathery quills of reaching passion stoned to silence
Will giving her gifts to the clouds that call
Only create little pieces in the memory of all
Just dreams of doves laying torn in dawns fading embrace
O fragile dove you’ll ne’er see forever pain

Walking in silence ’cause your wings are maimed

Also published in Broowaha Citizen’s Magazine

11 Things I Wish My Daughter To Know – Wisdom for my daughters –

Athena, Goddess Of Wisdom
1)  Hold your head high, you’re beautiful, every day, all the time. When a man asks you to change your appearance to be acceptable to him, walk away and be yourself. Develop your character inside. Beauty is deeper than an outward appearance.
2)  Respect yourself. In all you do and say, be a woman of class and honor. You will not get respect until you respect yourself.
3)  Follow your dreams, never let a relationship, whether it be friendship, or love, rob you of what you dream.
4)  Be independent, make sure of your own finances, health, and career. Always have a way of escape – financially, physically, and emotionally.
5)  Beware when you find yourself rescuing a man, whether financially or emotionally. They will use your motherly instincts to manipulate you and guilt to force your hand to provide for them.
6)  Every gift has a price, you may not see it at first, but it’s there. Don’t take lavish gifts from men, they will pressure you with it. Earn what you want on your own.
7)  When a man hits you, he WILL hit you again. You need to leave right away or know that you will get beat in the future. He will not change, you will suffer at his hand. There are no exceptions to this rule.
8)  Listen to your heart, when you feel something is wrong, something is. These are your gifts, empathy and insight.
9)  Precipitating a crisis to keep a man from leaving is a grave error. Getting pregnant, getting “sick”, using his secrets to threaten him, these will all backfire on you.
10)  Pick the things you will and won’t deal with. Every man will have some quality that will drive you crazy, a fault that may or may not be forgivable. Choose what faults you will or won’t deal with BEFORE you’re in a relationship and stick to your decision.
11)  Do not cheat on your man, this can lead to great violence toward you and injury to your self esteem. There is never a happy ending to this, if he cheats with you he’ll cheat on you. If you’re not satisfied with your man, leave. This can save your life.

These things will help keep you safe and happy, and will prevent your dad from having to kill someone…

Love you girls,
Pops

Related Posts:
11 Things I Wish My Son To Know
11 Things Observed In the Betrayal Of My Friend

Also published in Broowaha 

 12152011 

Skin – Yours feels good on me

Be forewarned: This is a creative application of an analogy
“The finest clothing made is a person’s own skin, but, of course, society demands something more than this.”  – Mark Twain
 
“It’s a sad man my friend who’s livin’ in his own skin and can’t stand the company.”                             – Bruce Springsteen

 

ad libitum

Pulling out my favorite skin, one of the many I’ve gathered over the course of years, I pushed one foot through, then pulling it over my head, stood up and turned around. There, now I’m complete. I looked in the mirror, this skin is tight, it doesn’t quite fit. “After all my hunting to find the perfect fit, damn.” These things change you know, in the night while your sleeping, they shrink and grow taking on their own wild destiny. It’s hard to pull out the men, the women, from their skins. I yank and tug, making little cuts to release the flesh, loving when it just falls off, but that usually meant someone else had the same idea, using it to hide, or rather, to enhance their look. My collection is extensive and ever changing. I pulled some off of religious fanatics, some from thugs, some from pretty boy hair bands. I yanked a couple off some bikers and even a lawyer couldn’t escape my scheming thievery. All skin is beautiful by virtue of hiding mine. I sit looking in the mirror at my latest acquisition. I sure look good in it, wish I could move though, it always rips when I go outside. No worries though, I’ll keep yanking and saving them and perhaps sew them together. I’ll find one that fits and works eventually. I wish they wouldn’t leave marks on me, it blows my cover when you see pieces that obviously don’t fit on me. I’ll make excuses and hold it on while I scurry to pull another skin over the unfinished parts of me.

Also Published in: Wingposse Magazine, April 2013

12202012 

Dreamweaver – Nightmares of Abuse

“My father was one of those men who sit in a room and you can feel it: the simmer, the sense of some unpredictable force that might, at any moment, break loose, and do something terrible.
[Burnside, p. 27]”
John Burnside, A Lie About My Father: A Memoir 

The following is an excerpt from the hopeforhealing.org.,  poetry by survivors of sexual or domestic violence.

 

aneasylife4u

Come, beckons the night,
Let us dance together, and chase the dream weaver
I am not laughing at you
It is only the laughter of the past
Rushing through your brain
 
I am harmless, why do you resist me so?
Pearls of wisdom are here within my walls
And peace offerings as well
Yet you quake at the sight of me
My power has not alluded you
 
Need I remind you?
You cannot resist me forever!
I am that necessary evil
Which recreates evil past
My nourishment lies in your screams
So, foolish one, scream on!
 
No one is listening, no one hears
Wake them; tell them of your sad tales
I will recapture them before your voice silences
But they will not find your persecutor
And will think you mad
 
Reach for the sun, it is hours ’til its’ dawn
As I am your punisher, it is your reward
However, for now I am your companion
Let us dance together, and chase the dreamweaver
Come, I beckon you
011912

Survival Guide: Rape Part 5 – How I make it: Day to day living with the effects

Within each article I’ll include important links for those who affected by the subjects covered, please use these links if you need help!

delliel

 

“Behind every flinch is a fear or an anxiety – sometimes rational, sometimes not. Without the fear, there is no flinch. But wiping out the fear isn’t what’s important – facing it is.” ― Julien Smith, The Flinch

Everyday starts with prayer, or some spiritual exercise. This helps me to believe that someone is watching out for me, that this will never happen again. My only sense of safety comes from this activity. I’m constantly on guard, so sometimes I’ll put myself in a dangerous situation just to say “Fuck you” to the attackers and assaults. Inside I’m scared as hell, but I won’t let fear hold me back. I really don’t care if die now, they took everything they could take, and I live my life like I have nothing to lose. I have to sleep with the light on, and make sure all the doors and windows are locked, sometimes checking them a few times. I don’t like big homes, I’ve got to see most of the house at a glance. I prefer living on the second story (or higher), so the window can’t be easily crawled through. I like being in block or brick apartments so I can’t be shot through the walls. I watch every face to see signs of aggression. When I see it, or sense it, I get violent inside. I don’t want to run, I want to fight. If you scare me, on purpose or otherwise, I’ll probably hit you and ask questions later. I don’t know what perversion of nature has occurred to my sexuality, but those things which happened to me, I seem to find a liking to, with the exception of hurting someone. Then, there is the crying. I cry at the drop of a hat, on commercials, songs, movies, sometimes for no reason. I’m perpetually fighting negative thoughts of my body and personality. 

All these things I live with daily. I’ve gone to counseling, God knows how many hours I’ve spilled my guts to some stranger, looking for answers that never come. To summarize, I’ve changed from the experience. I will never be the same. I accept these symptoms and behaviors as normal. I try to understand that most of the feelings of paranoia and danger are in my head. People are good and not all evil, though I struggle with that thought, I see evil in most intentions. I try to believe that I have a future, that I’m important and worthy of a good life. Most of all I enjoy my life. I take chances I’m scared to take, and I have the best revenge, that of a life well lived.

 If you need help or need to talk to click these links: Pandora’s Project, RAINN
Survival Guide: Rape Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 , Part 4, Part 5