HopeK429

There is a symbolism in the fires we set; in the bridges we burn with intention, to the ground. We stand there, staring blankly at the rubble and debris. We take comfort in the fact, that we’re on the other side of it alone; that no one can harm us now. When the one person you trust most with your life is the one who slowly took it away day by day mark by mark it puts us on guard and every time we let someone get close enough, to feel the warmth of our light, it feels like all they want to do, is snuff it out. They don’t know what to do with our hurricane souls, so they try everything in their power, to water us down; to dismiss or to minimize our pain; to silence our thoughts somehow. Relationships always leave us feeling caged. We feel bent, and broken; we feel wounded and sometimes even afraid. And no matter how many times we try to explain it to them, this sadness inside us, still remains. We are left there in silence; the aftermath of such violence. We are left there all alone, to handle our rage. A pain born of fire; the object of horrific unwanted desire. A fierceness born, from forcibly living, inside of a cage. We didn’t ask for this to be our story. We’ve done everything in our power, to rewrite our history. But you cannot change the past; you can only change the future. And happiness just cant last, when your wounds are never sutured. They want us to heal, without feeling a thing; without hearing the story of what shattered our souls. They tell us it’s over now; that it’s all just in the past. They say to get over it; to move on with our lives; as if freedom is something we could ever truly grasp. We can barely breathe, most days of our life. We are fighting these demons, that the monsters left inside. They handed us their darkness, and we’re supposed to just instinctively know, how to turn it back into light. They murdered our soul; they shattered our innocence, and most of the world around us, doesn’t want us to put up a fight. They want us to be quiet. They want us to simmer down. They want us to handle this massacre inside us, without making a single sound; without speaking the depth of our pain, out loud. So you see, there is intention, in these bridges we burn down. We don’t just set them on fire with a match; we incinerate them, to the ground. We make sure that when we burn them, they can never be rebuilt; that we will never be able to cross them again. We keep ourselves safe. In our cage, we remain. It’s exactly where they wanted us, in the end. In our hollowed out shell, we are deathly silent. We are violently deconstructed. We keep burning these bridges to symbolically show, that our lives can only be reconstructed.in our own time and it takes years not weeks or months... We cannot heal, what we do not acknowledge; and they will not acknowledge our pain. So we stand here alone, on the other side of burning bridges, with the smell of burning ash, in our veins. We mutilate and burn our own flesh, in the flames. This is what abuse and mental and physical trauma does, to a domestic abuse survivor. This is the destruction, that it leaves in its wake. We are chaos, born of hellfire. We are the very definition, of debilitating pain. A pain that cant be seen by others only felt within ourselves.. And as long as no one allows us to speak our holy truth, we’ll be trapped all alone here, in our shame. And in the end, we’ll have nothing left to show for ourselves, but this burning flesh, and a cage.”

"The God-shaped hole in all of us is a voracious beast when stuffed full of the world. It'll take you to places you never wanted to go and keep you there longer than you ever wanted to stay."

https://youtu.be/b1_RKu-ESCY

If you always do what you’ve always done, you’ll always get what you’ve always got. When we grow up without clear direction, without plans or goals. Without any idea of who or what we want to be, we are left to drift amongst the wants of others and be placed into the category’s society has assigned to us. A category gives us a sense of belonging, but also creates a limit of who we are supposed to be. We become conditioned by our beliefs and are a product of our environment. Everything we think, do, act, is a choice. If you are more focused on how another person acted rather than how you reacted, you are inadvertently placing the blame on someone else. Choosing to be a victim to your outcome is easier than taking responsibility. Understanding that you choose to be a victim toward a situation is a hard pill to swallow, but without awareness you can’t change it. Change; its simple to know, but hard to follow. We live in the paradox of wanting to be better without truly wanting to do better. We want to remain within the comfy space we have created, leaving it for the unknown feels more uncomfortable than remaining in a place we know is no longer serving us purpose. We are constantly faced with contradictions in our lives, “nothing grows in your comfort zone” but “the grass isn’t always greener” Without a thought audit, we don’t question why we believe certain things or why we do things a certain way, we will continue to be the same person, with the same core beliefs. The intention to be better, is easier than the action to do better. We may tell the universe we want more money, but deep down we believe ourselves to be poor. We may tell ourselves we want to be successful but deep down we believe we will amount to nothing. Denial feels comfier than acceptance. Blame is easier when its placed upon others, rather than ourselves. Hiding from the past is easier than healing from it.  Humans are like water, we take the path of the least resistance. I know I'm not alone in avoiding being uncomfortable, we are creatures of habit and changing the routine causes our brain to go into a bit of a frenzy. Its easier to stay the same but nothing great in life is easy and the only way I am going to change my identity is to put myself in situations of discomfort, to become comfortable with the feelings of rejection, failure and boredom.

WARNING FOR ALL MALES FROM ME when buying a security device for a loved one. Last weekend I saw something at The Gun Show that sparked my interest. I was looking for a little something different for my wife Dana. What I came across was a 100,000-volt, pocket/purse-sized Tazer .The effects of the Taser were supposed to be short lived, with no long term adverse effect on your assailant, allowing her adequate time to retreat to safety...??WAY TOO COOL! Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home.. I loaded two AAA batteries in the darn thing and pushed the button. Nothing! I was disappointed I learned, however, that if I pushed the button and pressed it against a metal surface at the same time, I'd get the blue arc of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs .AWESOME!!! Unfortunately, I have yet to explain to Dana what that burn spot is on the face of her microwave. Okay, so I was home alone with this new toy, thinking to myself that it couldn't be all that bad with only two AAA batteries, right? There I sat in my recliner, my cat Leo looking on intently (trusting little soul) while I was reading the directions and thinking that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh & blood moving target.I must admit I thought about zapping Leo (for a fraction of a second) and then thought better of it. He is such a sweet cat. But, if I was going to give this thing to my wife to protect herself against a mugger, I did want some assurance that it would work as advertised .Am I wrong? So, there I sat in a pair of shorts and a singlet with my reading glasses perched delicately on the bridge of my nose, directions in one hand, and Taser in another. The directions said that: a one-second burst would shock and disorient your assailant; a two-second burst was supposed to cause muscle spasms and a major loss of bodily control; and a three-second burst would purportedly make your assailant flop on the ground like a fish out of water. Any burst longer than three seconds would be wasting the batteries. All the while I'm looking at this little device measuring about 5" long, less than 3/4 inch in circumference (loaded with two itsy, bitsy AAA batteries); pretty cute really, and thinking to myself, 'no possible way! What happened next is almost beyond description, but I'll do my best .I'm sitting there alone, the cat looking on with his head cocked to one side so as to say, 'Don't do it stupid,' reasoning that a one second burst from such a tiny lil ole thing couldn't hurt all that bad.. I decided to give myself a one second burst just for heck of it.I touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and...HOLY MOTHER OF GOD. WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION. WHAT THE... !!! I AM CERTAIN I JUST MET JESUS!!!I'm pretty sure Hulk Hogan ran in through the side door, picked me up in the recliner, then body slammed us both on the carpet, over and over and over again. I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the fetal position, with tears in my eyes, body soaking wet, both nipples on fire, testicles nowhere to be found, with my left arm tucked under my body in the oddest position, and tingling in my legs! The cat was making meowing sounds I had never heard before, clinging to a picture frame hanging above the fireplace, obviously in an attempt to avoid getting slammed by my body flopping all over the living room. Note: If you ever feel compelled to 'mug' yourself with a Taser, one note of caution: There is NO such thing as a one second burst when you zap yourself! You will not let go of that thing until it is dislodged from your hand by a violent thrashing about on the floor! A three second burst would be considered conservative !A minute or so later (I can't be sure, as time was a relative thing at that point), I collected my wits (what little I had left), sat up and surveyed the landscape.· My bent reading glasses were on the top of the TV.· The recliner was upside down and about 8 feet or so from where it originally was.· My triceps, right thigh and both nipples were still twitching.· My face felt like it had been shot up with Novocain, and my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs.· I had no control over the drooling.· Apparently I had crapped in my shorts, but was too numb to know for sure, and my sense of smell was gone.· I saw a faint smoke cloud above my head, which I believe came from my hair. I'm still looking for my testicles and I'm offering a significant reward for their safe return! PS: My wife can't stop laughing about my experience, loved the gift and now regularly threatens me with it!