Posts Tagged ‘God’

Such an awesome read!! 

http://thoughtcatalog.com/rania-naim/2016/06/there-is-something-liberating-about-letting-god-write-your-story/
Amen! Lord I give it all to you. You are in total control & I have complete faith in Your plan not my own. I will not rely on my own understandings, only what You show & tell me. Only on Your guidance.

Someone who lies with a smile and a smooth voice is a liar just the same.

https://anewperspectiveperhaps.wordpress.com/2016/03/02/deception/
Sometimes. Sometimes. There is a wolf among the pack with an entire plan we are all so naive to. The history of destruction. The cycles of separation, confusion, tearing all good apart creating bad. God is the only light. So we all may know there must be a blessing coming from all the deception. He always has a plan. Thank you God Almighty for placing me right where you wanted & needed me to be, to see it all. Half of the fight, sometimes more than half for some, we fight  with Mental Health/Illness is the perspectives & perceptions inside our heads or the ones we innocently allow as good souls to be placed there. Thankful today for the guidance, wisdom, and patience He is giving me. 

My safe place is honesty. My safe place is right here. 

“I have no words.” the first thing I said. Why? Because I literally couldn’t find the right ones in my head to begin to explain my thoughts and feelings. Silence is sometimes the most calming & effective thing for people like me. I have severe PTSD, anxiety AND ADHD. Click on the link to read more about this. Ha! IMG_2158Sucks but it is what is; reality as a part of life for me.

Today is my Mother’s birthday. Maybe my boyfriend’s question is right, “are you having a hard time w/ that today?” I said, “no.” But maybe he’s right now that I think about it. Maybe not.

“What is wrong?” he asks. My answer, “I don’t like it when my intelligence is insulted.” There’s a few reasons i feel like that. I’ve been lied to, manipulated, mentally spun in circles as though my mental strength was a science experiment.

Am I right? Ever? Ehhh, sometimes I’m right, sometimes I’m wrong. I am fearful each time this situation comes up; my mind spinning, emotions wherever (not always in one specific place) they can be classified as. What if I just spit shit out & it’s not the right words? What if I am just processing flashback emotions and it will pass? What if I am not realizing exactly what symptoms happening right now? How is the person going to react? Am I going to hurt them w/ my inability to express who, what, when, why, & how verbally? Are they going to take it right? Are they going to understand? Are they going to care even for a moment about who I am & what I deal with inside? Am I going to just get pushed away? In my world the answer to the very last questions is the ONLY result I see. “NO.”

That being said, I stay quiet. Try to process it & let the shit storm pass. Get through it & accept that this is life for me. Period. No one gives a damn & it’s just better in solitude. They always say they do & will be there not pushing me away saying they get it or atleast try to but each time once they know they have me & my soul, it isnt the same & that is all gone. And yes, “i’ll be embarrassed when I’m wrong.” I always feel like I’m a freak or stupid or off and just am screwed up so it is too hard for anyone to give me unconditional love I give.

Or who knows maybe it’s that I don’t know what that means at all. How could I right? The very person. The very one being that I came out of. She didn’t give me unconditional love. Everything & everyone comes with terms & conditions. While I do my very best to offer that to the ones I choose to hold dear in my heart & soul; I may never know what it’s like myself.

Other than God. He has that for me. That I have security in.
Clearly, I have a lot more learning to do.

Every single day of our lives comes with trials, lessons, tribulations, blessings, emotions touching & intertwining with each of our senses. Some wanted. Some unwanted. Mental illness/disorders such as PTSD/C-PTSD, and many others merely intensify these experiences.

For me, faith and a higher being (The Lord) is my saving grace. My light at the end of the tunnel when deep inside, all is black. He blesses me with His unconditional love as a Father, which I have never ever had & don’t know. Feel free to read more about my journey of life not knowing who my Dad is. Leave a comment. Share your thoughts or experiences if you may 🙂

God for my kids & I, He turned what seemed like the end, into a brand new beginning for us. I was homeless. Living in the battered women’s shelter. Lost everything. Surviving the 3rd account of Domestic Violence with my youngest’s Dad, and 3rd intimate abusive relationship. Surviving suicide. Suffering from ADHD, PTSD/C-PTSD, Anxiety, Depression & BPD traits. Everyone has different beliefs. I am certainly not one to judge or shove mine down your throat. Whatever it is that keeps you going, gives you hope, allows you to have the strength to get through each moment of the days we endure & live, this happens to be mine. Hope all you surivivors, amazing souls, community of support here and afar can smile one more smile that maybe you didn’t necassarily have when you woke up this morning!

I'm here. I love you. I don't care if you need to stay up crying all night long, I will stay with you. There's nothing you can ever do to lose my love . I will protect you until you die, and after your death I will still protect you. I am stronger than Depression and I am braver than Loneliness and nothing will ever exhaust me.- God

Reblogged from The Abuse Expose’ with Angel Secret. Truth in raw form. Great read.

The Abuse Expose' with Secret Angel

This message is just a reminder that none of us are perfect and should not criticize or judge others… for that in itself is a sin. Think about it…

Sin…
it’s something we all do.
For we are not perfect…
and definitely not God too.

But God made provision…
by sending His Son…
to overcome as a Man…
for He is the Righteous One.

View original post 119 more words

Happy Father’s Day to all the people who step up to the plate and make a difference in every child’s life they touch & try for.

I haven’t posted in for awhile. I’ve been busy working on myself, school, of course my kiddos, and my relationship. I’ve been focused on recovery and coping through the ups and downs of my mental illnesses. I’ve also been hit with a lot of death lately.

All that being said, I am posting to get through the moment of severe roughness today. I buried a friend (loss) a few weeks ago who was a good father to his children. I am spreading the ashes of an old school mate (7th) grade on Saturday coming up. It’s hard. It hurts. It’s life.

Today is another day that many people celebrate their dad’s. Father’s. Stepdads. Father figures. I however, don’t have one of those. Whoever he is that helped create me with my birth mother, I don’t know him. It’s like this gaping hole in my soul unable to be filled except when I push it away remembering God is my Father. He is what made me possible. I don’t have memories to look back on, hugs, kisses, advice and tender or even harsh moments to look back on. No man to thank for making me the person I am today. I’m rambling I’m sure. It’s so difficult to put into words, the pain my soul feels for lack of all those things I just mentioned as well as feeling this odd sorrow that I can’t even look back on a memory of spankings. Being fussed at, scolded, or told he is dissapointed in me.

My birth mother refuses to tell me the truth. If she knows or doesn’t know who he is. When I was born, no one knew she was pregnant. No one knew because she was an addict. Abused alcohol and drugs. Was very overweight & I ended up being delivered at home in the bathroom by my Grandfather. The ambulance was called to come help after he delivered me and I was taken to the nearest hospital, placed in the NICU, went through DT’s for several days. My birth mother only came to see me once the entire 2 weeks I was there. No one knew how premature I was. No one knew what was going to happen & NO ONE but her knows if the man that helped make me knows if I even exist.

Working through the pain. Working through the confusion, wave of emotions that flow up and down back and forth on this day has become easier over the years. Yet, it is still there. I want to have a Dad. I want to know who he is. I want to know if he knows I’m here. Wondering about him. Does he have the same hair, eyes, character, features, health issues I have? Do I have siblings? Would I have the other side of me as a family that I’ve always lacked with my birth mother’s side of the family. We have always been astranged or on and off throughout my entire life. A very lonely monster lurking around the corner having to be bottled up, shoved back into it’s box, refocusing every moment on the positives being grateful for what I do have.

Does he have other grandchildren? Is he an ass or a good man. My kids’ dads are difficult and inconsistant. But they get all the right in the world to do whatever they want whenever however. Atleast for their sake, regardless of what I think of them as men, the kids have an opportunity to make up their own minds about who their dad is. Their dad gets the choice to be a part of them or not. I have never even had that choice. It sucks to say the least.

Maybe one day. One day, God will bring that moment around for me to know who the other half of me is. Introduce my children to their Grandfather. The other part of their heritage. Maybe one day I can look a man in the face and say, “Dad”.

Until then, I will be fulfilled with what and who I DO have in our lives thanking the Lord for blessing me with the opportunity to live and grow. Thanking Him for my boyfriend, whom I watch fight the hard fight to be a part of his beautiful daughter’s life. Striving to be a better man day after day, wanting nothing more than her to KNOW he is consistant with his Love as her Daddy, never giving up. That is exactly what I want for my babies and one day for myself from the other half who created me.

personn i

R.I.P. Paul Abbey a soldier, a Father, a friend, a gentleman, a true hero. He called you home. Left all the ones you touched with a sure fire smile on their face. Always happy. Forever smiling & laughing. Bringing up anyone who had a frown.

This came on the radio as soon as I was on way to Pop’s to check on him today. Smiled. Cried. Smiled again-Felt your five upon mine lifting to the rain falling from the sky 🙂 Be the angel He brought you home to be. No need to cry anymore. You’re free. Spread those wings & FLY!