Warmer this morning, highs will be in the 50s all week, which is nice for Upstate NY in November. I went to church and it was another nice sermon I’m grateful I was able to attend. Traveling light and not attaching to things too much. I love our Priest and his sermons. I love the way he tells a small story to support the Bible passages, it makes his sermon modern, which helps me with my writing. Today I was thinking that I used to be so positive and never complained and lately it seems all I do is complain and talk about negative things. I know so much of it had to be, but it’s hard for me to complain, and yet; that’s what I had to do—give it all over to God. Then when you think you can’t because it still seems hopeless—do it again! and then keep doing it.
Something does happen, but often it can take time. I usually always could find something to be grateful for, but lately it’s been extremely difficult. How could I find anything to be grateful for when everything in my life had been taken in such a brutal way? The hardest being my dog, I felt guilty that I couldn’t protect him, but know I have to let him go too. To move on with his journey—giving him over to God, grateful he was there for me for so long in such a dark time of my life. He was always a comfort, friend—companion. I miss him everyday, but I also think of those that have lost a child, those women that didn’t make it out of an abusive relationship, those still struggling. I’m out! I’m no longer with someone abusive and today that feels so good. I feel happier about that then I have in a long time.
I hadn’t thought of some of the positive things that have happened as a result of no longer being a victim of Domestic Violence. I know in some ways I will always be a victim, but like so many others, we are both victims and survivors. Some days I feel more like a victim, but there are other days, I know I’m a survivor.
I’m finally free of that awful dark cloud that followed me everywhere. I’m finally free of the constant not knowing what it was. The constant pain of struggling to know why no matter how hard I worked, things just always went wrong. The constant anxiety—pain.
Today I know my ex-husband did so much to make everything I did seem wrong, not right—not good enough. I remember all the condescending lectures about how I just couldn’t seem to keep a job, a friend, or any family. “Even your father wanted nothing to do with you!” he would sneer at the end. I struggled all the time with being downsized, “reorganization’s” at work, and just plain sabotage, not knowing all of it was deliberate. I would then take classes, brush up on my skills, try harder, interview better, and usually get a better job, but never knew why it didn’t work out. My life consisted of constantly trying harder, always working, always doing.
I did the same growing up. Love had to be earned and I learned early to please. I wasn’t wanted and it set me up to continually try and be accepted by the very people that should accept you unconditionally. The family I had never did. I really had no family after my parents divorced. I was forced to accept 1/2 brothers and a 1/2 sister as family, but they never were. The “blended family,” became acceptable, but it was never acceptable for me—just constant abuse. I had to continually earn any acceptance from any of them and their large family.
All were lined against me from the start—I was not blood, the guilt mine not theirs. I’m broken today that this kind of abuse was continuous almost resulting in my death. The violence grew worse over the years as these so-called family members never treated me as family and yet I was suppose to treat them as my blood relatives. I had family. Family I loved, and wanted to see, but not allowed to. Even my relationship with my only relative, my grandmother, was terribly threatened repeatedly.
It’s sick today thinking how this 1/2 family covered up me being molested, made light of the violence I endured, then went on to Traffic me to a Coke dealer to leave me destitute as some kind of horrible revenge for their extremist views.
A 20yr marriage setup to leave me with nothing—disposed of. Do supposed “nice families,” do that to young women—mothers? Yes, yes they do. We tend to think of Trafficking as women in 3rd World countries chained up, tied—trapped. We have similar things here, just as horrible, but harder to see. I’ve lost 20yrs of my life. Married to a man that thought of me as an object to make money from; like the coke he sold—merchandise. He is very wealthy today; I was such a good wife! Doing far more than I should have, always the good girl, always self-effacing—trying to earn love. Love is not earned, it’s unconditional. The way I loved them. The way I struggled to understand and came up short all the time.
I can let all that go now. Traveling much lighter than I ever have. Our Priest talked about just his 2 suitcases and only his car to move. I laughed because I felt shame about my 1 suitcase, but lately had been feeling grateful, his words confirmation of my ongoing journey. Living simply, not being so attached to things, but rather attentive to value rather than amount of things we have.
He talked of Sarah Ban Breathnach, “Simple Abundance.” An old favorite book, I read years ago when it first came out. I also loved her “DayBook of Comfort and Joy,” and referred to it often when I was first married. The joy of simple living. I was grateful for so much in my life and strived to make it all work. I had so little and was determined to make a beautiful life after so little never realizing the darkness that followed me all those years was right in my home—stalking my every move. I remembered things that went missing. I think of those things as I go about my day. The small strand of antique pearls I wore to church that were gone. Antique Christmas pins I loved to wear on my lapel, books, small things that I would forget about because the abuse often kept me scrambling; always tired, running to keep ahead of the anxiety.
It can all be let go of now. I can travel lighter, knowing that the things I had might be gone, but the value I got from them has made me the woman I am today—a woman of substance. The substance less material, far more spiritual. Ms. Ban Breathnach wrote her book in 1995 and I was married a year later, never realizing the horror that would eventually befall me—all planned.
We grow, we fail—we die. We die to things no longer useful, things we need to let go of, detach from. Love is not about earning our worth, but knowing we have it, are loved for who we are, and for being a unique soul already worthy. It took me a very abusive marriage to learn that. The ending was so brutal, it was only by Gods grace I survived.
I’m still not sure about the Kundalini I had. The snake unfurling prematurely at the end of our marriage, the last time we tried to make love and failed. The energy seemed exactly like what people spoke of, a coiled snake; uncoiling, spiraling up and around my back before recoiling in what seemed like anger, disgusted fear and dangerousness—something wasn't right. It’s intuitive knowing telling me long before I knew my ex and I would never be together again—severing the bond completely.
It was the last time we made love. He then accused me of “whoring around.” I had always been faithful. I believed that adultery a sin and was still trying to work things out, hoping to still retire early, taking him for eye surgery, and building my new business.
By then his abuse was so bad, I was having trouble with severe anxiety and panic attacks. I knew we were in trouble, but thought his worsened abuse was the medication that was constantly changing. The specialist could not stabilize his pressure. He had Glaucoma and I wondered if he told the doctor how much he drank. I had also been concerned about his coffee drinking, but he told me it didn’t matter. When I finally Googled it, I read you weren’t suppose to have much caffeine. Nothing was making sense with him.
I sensed what I can only describe in the marriage vows, “What God has joined together, let no man break apart.” I felt the bond completely removed.
I was free; I just didn’t know it yet. I had believed marriage was until “death do us part,” but knew that it was over—the cord severed completely. The marriage over in ways I was yet to fully understand. The horrible financial deception that would make my life a living hell had only just started as I was still to unravel his deception from the start, but in what I can only describe as a Spiritual knowing—something had been irrevocably changed. We were no longer a couple in the way people should be after 20yrs of marriage. I felt a release; an uncoupling that provided the way to move from his lies and abuse. There was now this space that had not been there before—creative void.
I was letting go of more and more to prepare me for what was to come. The blockages had been severe, going back to when I was a child. People knew and I became a magnet for other predators to prey on me. All these old beliefs about myself, what home meant, and family, had to be examined, along with so much else.
Kundalini was providing a framework. So much was being cleared away, let go of; old cords, old abusive attachments, old negative traumas; so much in my base Chakra of stability—home. In my sacral Chakra; intimacy. All the slut-shaming I endured, all the attacks about my sexuality. All the sexual violence—“20yr Rape,” I was told online. Then I still could not process that, but today I can.
Moving from the victim mentality of earning love to knowing I don’t need to. To know that I can be loved for me and not how much I give and measure up to someone else’s expectations. I can give that all up and travel much more lightly. It feels so good even though I had to pass through the hell of thinking and having so much, but most of it was based on a lie—all of it gone. A house of cards built on me trying to earn approval all the time. So young when this grooming first started. “Get out,” I was told before I could even comprehend what it meant. The terror overtaking any ability to just be. I had to work to be allowed to stay. I kept working tirelessly until so much was brutally stripped away. I had to learn to just be.
Kundalini can be like that; stripping away all that doesn’t belong, so far it seems real, but I’m still getting used to going from living simply to having nothing. As our Priest told us today—it takes practice. I’m still practicing.
I’m finding my way again, after being viciously told I would not have a way out this time by my ex-husband, but predators can convince us it’s hopeless. The truth is, we have to let go, as cliche as it sounds and as hurtful, especially when people we love take things too soon, too brutally. It all goes and we enter that place of nothingness—talk about traveling light! I asked God over and over, what the hell? nothing?
It’s been hell, but then like when I first started doing Yoga, poses would hurt, I couldn’t do them, or would feel awkward, but after awhile your practice becomes easier, your breathing good, the pain gone—my “Down dog” seemingly ok now.
I did Yoga over 20yrs and then couldn’t do it at all through Menopause. I’m now doing it again. Things so much clearer and balanced. I didn’t exercise, ate meat all the time after being Vegetarian 20yrs, and bitched, moaned, and complained constantly.
God works in mysterious ways. Today I’m seeing the balance return, my body slowly more fluid after so much pain, the love returning. I’m traveling so much lighter, happier, and looking forward. I’ll keep you posted how this whole Kundalini thing is going, but for now I’m amazed—it does seem real. I’m finding my way and getting used to only having one suitcase, but things are accumulating once again. Living simply still takes practice—“Before enlightenment, chop wood, carry water. After enlightenment, chop wood, carry water,” old Zen proverb.
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