As I Lay Dying

I was lying on the bathroom floor, feeling the kick of his feet striking me in the back and head, I began to lose hope and willed myself to die. I was beyond pain at this point and I couldn’t think of anyway to end the torture he was inflicting on my person. I was finished. I was over it. He had won. My eyes were closed and my breathing shallow. The background noise was fading away.

“OPEN YOUR EYES!” A voice commanded of me; but I refused. I didn’t know the voice; but I was slipping away into the darkness and didn’t even care who it belonged to. The voice didn’t care. “OPEN YOUR EYES!” It shouted in an overwhelmingly large, deep voice which commanded me to obey. I couldn’t refuse the voice.

I opened my eyes. For the first time in over 30 years, I saw clearly. No glasses on, I saw my little boy’s face and the face of his best friend, tears streaming, voices pleading and I knew I had to get out of this situation. If not for me, then for them.

I leapt to my feet, as if on springs and ushered them away from the violence I had been suffering, ending, for the moment, my torment.

It wasn’t until much later that I came to the realization that the voice that had saved my life was God himself, telling me that I had more to do than lay on a cold bathroom floor and die.

It has been 4 years since this horrible, life altering moment and as I look back on my escape, I am thankful to God for all he did to help me through the horror. I thank him endlessly for the son he also saved that night. It has been a long road of recovery since that night; but we are better for it. This was not the first time I’d encountered death; but I never wanted to embrace it as much as I did that night. Now, I look at death as the next great adventure. It is going to sleep in one world and waking up in another. This time, however, I’ll be going to meet my Heavenly Father.

I’d once heard the quote, “Do not go gently into that good night.” and thought that I’d fight it; but now that my life has been alter and I’m saved, I embrace what the end of this life will bring. My only regret is that I am within this sinful flesh and can’t seem to live up to the person I want to be.

I still lose my temper. I still sin. I still beg forgiveness. I pray. I go to church. I help others. I try my best and sometimes my best isn’t good enough. I pray some more. God forgives me, time and time again. He knows my efforts, He sees my struggles and His grace is enough to save me from myself.

Life is hard. It is not perfect. It is mine, flaws and all.

Little Girl Lost

Sometimes I still feel like a lost little girl. It’s hard to believe I’ll be 45 this October. I have overcome so much and still I wonder how God let’s me be an adult, who takes care of a son.

I still have nightmares due to my PTSD. Sometimes my anger at my life is too much to bear. When I am so overwhelmed by my disabilities that I can only cry, that is when I feel like that little girl most. I just want to curl up in my bed and have my mom take care of me; but I can’t. I am a grown woman, who has her own child to take care of and I can’t have that luxury.

I would rather die in battle, as an honorable Marine, with a gun in my hand, than this slow, agonizing death at the hands of my own treacherous body. I don’t feel sorry for myself and the life I live. I’m a survivor and proud of the battles I have won. The problem is that some days, it just gets so overwhelming that I am that little girl in need of my own comfort. My major fault is that I put EVERYTHING ahead of my own needs until I reach this point and have a meltdown.

I have survived domestic violence, rape, and molestation. I suffer PTSD, Migraine, TMJ, Trigeminal Neuralgia, Lupus, allergies to everything, diabetes and hearing loss. And yet, I am still a little girl inside. I love my life. I love what I have accomplished, the people I have met along the way who have taught me so much, the young man I am raising to be such a wonderful adult. Life is interesting. The challenges are many; but the journey is worth the walk.

God, I am grateful for the many blessing you have given to me and my family. I am luckier than most. I accept the things I cannot change, even when I am feeling like a child. You, Lord, are my everything and I will shed this human flesh when we are reunited.

Another pain filled day.

UGH!!!!  I’m not sure what is going on in this body of mine; but I do know it hurts.  My face has been throbbing for days now and relief is nowhere in sight.  I’m not sure what it is going to take to make the pain dissipate.  I’ve been taking aspirin like it is candy.  Everything seems to aggravate my pain.  Light is the enemy and sound reverberates through my brain like a million gun shots.  My stomach is rolling like an out of control ball and the vertigo is not helping.

That doesn’t even begin to touch the pain I’m feeling in other parts of my body.  My legs and knee are painful and I can’t even begin to describe the nerve endings of my feet and hands zapping out of control.  There isn’t enough Calgon to take this pain away or me away from the pain.

I feel like a complainer sometimes.  I don’t mean to be.  I just suffer so much and it spills over into my everyday life.  It doesn’t seem fair; but then what is these days?  This is my life.  I accept the things I cannot change.  This is one of them.

Neurologists, ENT’s, Allergists, Internal Medicine Specialists, I’ve seen them all.  There isn’t a thing anyone can do to help me. 

I’m afraid.  I’m afraid of getting worse.  I’m afraid I won’t be able to take additional pain.  I’m afraid this will kill me.

Over the last 20 years, it has gotten worse.  It definitely got much worse after the assault in 2009.   I’m not sure I can handle it right now, how can I handle it if it gets worse than this?  One day at a time.  It is all I can do. 

I close my eyes and I see cracks of lightening striking behind my eyelids.  I feel my erratic heart rate, thumping in my chest.  I taste an acidic tang in my mouth the never seems to go away.  I can’t seem to breath.  I hear the pain in my ears.

The nerves go wild.  Zapping my face when I pucker my lips, when I smile, when I touch my skin.  The left side of my face goes numb, starting at my ears and spreading outward to my face and the back of my head.  Like a million bugs beneath the skin, crawling with their tiny feet touching each nerve ending.  I think I want to cut my skin off and get them out; but my sanity tells me that the images I imagine are just that — imaginary — and I don’t even think about it.

So many nights I just wanted to go into the garage, get out the drill and put a hole in my skull to release the pressure.  Of course, I know, rationally, that that is not an option at all; but what if it worked?  I sometimes dream about the doctors putting me into a drug induced coma in which I wake pain free; because they have restarted my brain.  Not an option, I guess.  I’ve wanted to have the nerves severed so I can’t feel; but that, also, is not an option. 

I’m at a loss.  I don’t know what to do anymore.  I love my life, I just wish it were a little less painful.  Maybe God has a plan for me that my enduring this pain will make it all worth while.  I’m not sure.  He’ll let me know, someday.  For now, I struggle on with my daily life.  One moment at a time.

Doctor Who?

So, the season has ended and the last episode was entitled “The Name of the Doctor”.  Fans around the world protested the knowledge of the Doctor’s name, not wanting to know, fearing it may be the end.  Seriously, after nearly 50 years in television, without ever knowing the name of the man, was going to put a serious hurt on the fans.  I mean, the Doctor has always said his name was unpronounceable, so how can we possibly learn this information after so long.  Nope, didn’t want to know.

As we progress through the episode, the Doctor’s wife — the notorious River Song (Melody Pond) — is the one who whispers his name, in which we, the audience, never get a chance to hear.  Perfect!  It is also when we, the audience, have to finally say good-bye to the wonderful River Song.  Ah, the sadness.  Now, we’re on an adventure (next season) to find Clara and solve her true mystery.  She’s the one who has been “saving” the Doctor since he began his time travel adventures.

On a sad note, rumor central has it that Matt Smith will be leaving the show and that is heartbreaking since I’ve finally gotten over David Tennet and have totally enjoyed the River-Doctor love story.  Ah, such is life.

What is it with time travel that I love so much?  I remember as a child, one of my two favorite movies were “Time After Time” and “Somewhere in Time” — both about travelling through time and space and a bit of a love story to boot.  Then, in the mid to late 80’s, Constance O’Day Flannery wrote several time travel romance novels that became quick favorites for me as well.

Am I born out of time?  Or am I just wanting sweet adventures?  Would I run off with a madman in a blue box?  Yes, yes, yes!  I’d invest in a good pair of Converse sneakers and ………………………

RUN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!