Monday, October 27, 2014

Beautiful

Every story comes from the echo of a trouble in our soul. 

My echo is dark. I'm quite accomplished at keeping it tidy in wraps for myself and you. I keep those stories in the Dark Corners. Because I can see twinkles and lights and sunshine and fog sitting beside beautiful old oak trees. I can see my children, their eyes and their amazing bravery. I can see a life without this burdensome story. I can hear music, love songs and childish ditties. I can draw monkeys that swing from the ceiling near humongous palm trees that I've stapled to my ceiling. 

I hate, HATE, that my children have seen with such young eyes violence. I hate that my sons have seen their father attempt to take my life, stopping short for who knows what reason. I hate that my daughters have been called ugly names; that they heard me being referred to in undeserved and disrespectful ways. I will forever hate the day my oldest daughter cleaned up my hair off the floor after her father had pulled it out, handfuls and handfuls of hair up off the bloodied floor. 

How do my two perspectives live? How can we hold both? Like a trapeze performer swinging back and forth. Like a glorious sunshiny day that also has a forecast for a storm. My heart is full but I'm afraid forever heavy.

Sun and rain equally bring life. I chose to make joy. I chose to live in the glory of a life without harm. Its simply beautiful. I breathe without my back hurting. I walk without feeling the raised bruises on my legs. My head never aches anymore from being hit or slammed into whatever was near. My life is beautiful. 

I have for the last year implored everyone who reads this to get help if you are being harmed. I will forever continue doing so. I also beg everyone who reads this to see the stars, feel the wind and enjoy everyday we have. Life is beautiful. My hands though empty hold my children and I need your help to keep them safe. Please share my story. Please help not only my children but all the other children who find the terror of a family member's anger to be normal. Recovery from abuse is not easy, be brave with me.