I need more strength.
Somehow I have managed to surround myself with emotional vampires. They suck dry the world and I can choke on the arid dust so that I barely breathe, the air so thick with their negative energy and these open maws draw every molecule into their abyss and I suffocate and evaporate and die.
I did die. I died the day he began to tell me the truth, the reality of my life and my love. I died more every time another piece of truth slipped from his lips. My entire past become a lie, I died and died and I am not broken, no, I shattered into a million million tiny shards of glass, and I must rummageamong them in a vain attempt to find the unsullied pieces. As Anne Bishop so aptly described, I am a shattered chalice. I walk the twisted kingdom, hoping that I might gain my magic as the price for my death of self.
I am amazed that I was amazed.
In chakra meditation class, the teacher said that through the chakras we take the energy of the universe IN.
I guess I hadn’t realized that.
I always thought I had to create energy and put it in to the universe.
Maybe that is because I always was having to protect myself from the emotional vampires I grew up with. As soon as I created anything, they sucked it down into the void and I had to start anew. I am so accustomed to spewing myself into the world just to maintain my form that I didn’t realize I could renew myself FROM the universe. I feel guilty, taking the energy of vibration and limitless, infinite possibility, and dragging it into my being where it is most likely going to be used to maintain my own vibrational state and then just be sucked into more black holes of humanity. I cannot feed them all. I cannot transform all that negativity, desire for destruction, hate and misery, I do not have the power to transform for even a handful of humanity. What hubris to wish I could make a difference for animau in general. Teach? What do I know? Who am I to lead others? Have them follow in my footsteps, jump off the cliff? I can barely fly, can barely keep myself aloft. How dare I behave as if I carry a torch? What arrogance! What conceit! What a fool’s game I play with myself!
I forgive myself my follies, and smile at them, and enjoy the wishing to be something greater than I am. Every now and then I actually try to build that better person, that goddess potential walking in the world.
Then I become human again.
Maybe that is the way of us all, though. Blind leading blind, one wounded soldier carrying others. Maybe together we can have enough sense, enough senses, enough combined skill to create a better awareness. I must be more willing to hold hands and follow when necessary, not always lead. I could not lead my sister out of her maze of misery. I cannot touch my brother, for he hated me before I was born. My mother taught us all how to hate and be hated and whine and spill bitterness that this was the only way of the world. I tried to rebuild myself, to recreate love for self and love for others. It is so difficult when I have been trained and raised as vampire fodder.
That hurts most of all. I betrayed myself. He betrayed me, but I am the one who chose a betrayer. Someone who is everyone I never wanted ever again. Liar, cheat, lover of misery, bitter, sneering, cruel, sneak, fraud, bottomless pit, back stabber, misogynist, hypocrite, head game player, faithless, addict of sex cigarettes misery hate food fantasy escape thrill self-pity. He is the embodiment of every darkness of every family member and every man I have ever dated all rolled into one miserable package! Oh my Gods, how did I do this to myself?! Am I so thoroughly damaged by my youth that I would CHOOSE this and think it GOOD? Am I so blind, so gullible, so stupid? Did I really agree to this destruction? Karmic contract? Conditioning since birth? Unresolved issues?
Whine, whine, sorry for myself? I am sorry. I am hurt, so terribly wounded I have no words to describe it. What a waste, feeling sorry for myself.
I must find a way to forgive myself. I wonder if this really WAS the contract, or if he broke the real contract, that this time we would love each other and find a way out of the pit together. It is too late for that. He continues to destroy what was once my trust.
Maybe Kali is right. Maybe this is the only way I can reclaim my magic, to walk the twisted kingdom, to give up any futile search for love from the kind of man. The scientist in me keeps thinking if I understand the system fully, if I analyze the pieces that created this mess, then I can fix myself. I am the cartographer of my own history, and if I can map the way in, maybe I can find my way back out. But perhaps this is less a mountain pass, more a ship at sea. There is no going back when tossed by the perfect storm, only riding it out and bailing water and finding the path THROUGH. It doesn’t matter where it came from, only that I survive hell and crawl out the other end, ever changed, forever scarred.
Some days I feel the finger of the Goddess drawing her beautiful images on the face of chaos.
Some days I am merely another ghost, a zombie, dead in the physical world.
Some day maybe I will fly again.