the nightmares that haunt us

something that I thought I dealt with along time ago came back to the surface. I don’t talk about it much and do not believe I have ever mentioned it on here or any other blog I have owned. I have PTSD – without going into the gory details, its from childhood trauma/abuse. I was diagnosed at 16.

I was watching a war move, I have seen many, I am very interested by history and watch them when I can. For the first time, in a very, very long time I had a reaction that awoken and stirred up some unresolved emotions of my PTSD.

It had nothing to do with the war scenes, but it had everything to do with the few brief scenes of child abuse… Especially the scene when a gun was pulled on child (never fired, but aimed anyways).

I am still a little shook up and I don’t think I can sleep, nor do I want to – I feel I have a lot to say about this, but this is good as it is going to get as of now.



Time is a funny thing,
it quite often passes us by in a blink of an eye.
We all of a sudden go from youthful smiles to wrinkled eyes.
But all I need is time,
not time to escape the oldness of age or in efforts to try to obtain lasting beauty.
No, that is not quite what I had in mind.
I just need time to remember who I was before I met you, before your entire being consumed the entirety of the essence of who I once was.
Time to recover from the heartbreak that severed us into two, rather than a solid unit.
Time to forget how your smile, your touch, even your words altered me to my core.
Time to respond to the last thing you said, while regaining time to remove the first thing I had said.

we are always living among borrowed time, never quite knowing when someone will walk out of our lives forever.
We always think were timeless, but really were just prisoners of time, that is the reality that consumes us.

Missing you

I miss you
You were the best of my teenage years
No one knew me as well as you. Everything was instantly better when you were around.

You loving me and I loving you was so simple and beautiful but of course I had to make it all way too complicated.
So, it didn’t take long after I broke your heart to know the feeling of regret that crept up like vile.
I lost my best friend
I lost my other half, a piece of my soul
Realizing the piece that was always missing and wormed your way into places I didn’t even know existed.

Then I had to go and turn both of our realities upside down.

Severing the ties of our romance that resulted to a bitter end of the greatest friendship I’ve ever known.

so here I am a decade later still missing you.

Wishing I could still be loving you.

Forgiveness is the path to Freedom

I am currently in the Midwest visiting my family… I forgot how crazy they can be, but I also forgot how much I love them and miss them dearly. I had one of the most vulnerable conversation with one of my sisters yesterday. She and I have not been as close as we once were and I feel like she has always kept me at arms length.

Yesterday she took a chance in bearing her soul to me, something she would normally do with our older sister. However, she expressed that our older sister and her didn’t seem to be on the same level of understanding when it comes to issues regarding our deceased father. So, she took a chance and shared with me, she was shocked (as well as I) in discovering I feel the same about the whole situation as she.

She doesn’t miss our father, he was mean, abusive, and an alcoholic all of our lives, the bad times strongly outweigh the good times. Our oldest sister is from his second marriage, so she was only there on weekends, she never had to live through the trenches as hell as we did. She got the good times, we got the bad and ugly – even the times of wishing you were dead, that is how bad it got sometimes. I also confided in my sister something no one in my family knows, that through all, despite how angry and hostile I was, how I had to learn how to forgive him after he died and let go of my anger and resentment (which took me years). I realized how much anger and resentment I held against my mother for allowing it to happen, for never divorcing him and for how every time she left after a fight she left my sister and I there alone to deal with him. I explained to my sister that it was much easier to forgive my dad, because he was the alcoholic and though I do not see it as a disease like most, I see it as a choice (he chose alcohol over his children, up until his death) my sister views him the same way (I guess you would have had to live it, to understand it the way we do). My mom however, she was suppose to be strong one, the one to take care of us. Instead my sister and I became survivors and learned to care for ourselves and each other. My sister is 9 years older than me and she moved out when I was 8 because she got pregnant. I was not naive to believe I would be cared for, I knew I was on my own.

Forgiveness is such a hard concept. I was a Christian when my dad died seven years ago, but it took me a couple years to fully forgive him and my mom. I did not go through the normal stages of grief. I mostly dealt with the anger (there was no denial, no bargaining, no depression) – just anger and then eventually acceptance. I think it was because I accepted long ago my dad would die young, that he would die choosing alcohol over me, like he had done time and time again. There was anger, there was hostility and rage, but then there was the calming acceptance, which enabled forgiveness to consume me like a river. My sister is still stuck in-between the anger and rage.

For the first time, my sister allowed me to speak truth, love, and forgiveness into her life. WE unfortunately were unable to finish, because we were driving and arrived back at her house and she has two small children to attend to. But she was more than happy to continue our conversation this evening because she is filled with questions. I look forward to share the truth and love of forgiveness and the gospel to her. She has never been receptive to anything I had to say of this nature.

If your the praying kind, I could use your prayers!


I feel like I have spent my whole life waiting

Always waiting for something to happen or waiting on someone to show up

waiting for empty promises that were never fulfilled

waiting and hoping that I won’t be disappointed yet again

Disappointment was something I grew in to

That I became use to during my childhood, bitter disappointment was the daily norm.

Eventually, I evolved into no longer becoming bitter, and my disappointment turned into the ever expectation of always waiting.

I was waiting for mom and dad to stop screaming

Always waiting for dad to sleep off his never ending hangover so he could feed us

I remember waiting for mom to come home and realizing after a few months that might not ever happen

I spent my awkward teenage years waiting for someone to notice me, to see the abuse and the neglect and give me the affection I so desperately craved.

I could hardly wait until I could be a grownup all on my own and not have to constantly wait on someone else to follow through on what they should do

And now, into my adult years – I feel like I am still waiting…

But not in the way that I ever expected I would

Because now, I am more hopeful in humanity and shocked when I am disappointed, so waiting is an easy task

The waiting has turned into more of an anticipation.

Anticipating on the waiting for the man I am destined to marry to show up in my life

Yet, there is nothing more than radio silence…

I am hopeful in the waiting…

Longing for the joy that I know that will spring up from the well of patiently waiting within

Waiting has taken on a new meaning in my life – it is no longer disappointing or bitter

Waiting is not full of anger or resentment

Waiting is joyous

Waiting is a patient calm stilled within my soul

Waiting is apart of who I am

So I’ll be here waiting



I fear that I have lost my depth and any ability to have a conversation of any meaning or value of substance now days. I believe that any original thought that I once had is now gone and that college just sucked the life from within me.

The worse part is that my inner self of wounder or curiosity has seem to vanish.These were qualities that I most loved about myself, my  sense of adventure. Now, I find myself secluding myself and hiding away from the woes of life. Seems drastic? Possibly, I do tend to be an extreme person, however, I absolutely mean every single word.

I often find myself completely lost in conversations and with much difficultly to put forth the effort to connect, I just walk away without a word.

It’s like I have become empty, but no, its worse, I am hallow – some might see as the same, but it is not. I say this from experience. I have been empty, my life as a teenager was quite empty and lonely, I only knew of anger and hatred, it was all consuming and often very confusing. Since then I have become full of life and joy, love and peace, I know not of anger or hatred because I choose better. Having experience the fullness of life, one cannot become empty again (maybe that is naive, but that is what I wholeheartedly believe with all my being).

To be hallow, is to have everything within you be sucked away, you feel like you are missing something, but cannot quite remember because it has now been lost… no not lost, taken from you.

The difference between empty and hallow, is that you can become empty, but you are left hallow – you see, there is a big difference.

I don’t miss you, because I shine

I once heard from somewhere by someone that we all are mere shadows of who we once were. I, however, happen to disagree with this sentiment, because, I am better than who I use to be.

I do not miss who I was 10 year ago, I am so grateful I am not who I was back then. I don’t miss the hatred, the anger, or hostility. I definitely do not miss the drugs, nor the toxic relationships or environments that I surrounded myself with.

I don’t miss the old me, she’s a complete stranger to me now. Rather than clingly to some sentiment that someone from somewhere said, instead, I say that I am a beaming light in comparison to whom I once was. The old me couldn’t even hold a candlestick to the me I am today, because I shine that much brighter!

I mean if you got a light inside you, you got to let it shine for all the world to see!