……
I have cut this out of a very large blog...I think in total it was about 24 pages...this is the point I finally got to...after ripping everyones heart open to get to my own pain.



…………………….Our destiny of finding the beauty in negative spaces…
Where we came from to where we are today…
I have a story inside, but I am still afraid… and tired…
More water, I need more water… I think I am in love with water… seriously, I think I need a nightly IV of fluids…
Ahhh clarity of thoughts….
…water is sublime…
Page 7 and I am still trying diligently not to write what will hurt me…make me look bad… condemn me to the outer circle of hell, ahhh Dante…you really do suck…
Now that I have verbally shattered everyone else…I can rip my heart open…again.
Mending myself as I purge the haunting stupidity of my mistakes…
Guilt sucks…even if you don't look at it ..it lingers and festers and boils over until…
I am not a good mother.
I am selfish, I am weak, I am stubborn, I am arrogant, I think I am always right.
Trepidation is folly…
I was thinking about "G's" Grandma … Then my miraculously untamed mind went to …me, of course…me ,mememememe… (you kind of have to sing that, It's a Railey thang.)
…I almost strangled my child on her own guilt and remorse as I tried to refrain from seeing mine…
I thought about Judy… I thought about the time frame of knowing her… I thought about the circle of hell we lived through, my little village and I… watch and wait, watch and wait…
There are two stories that helped me see my frantic madness. (Don't let the normalcy befriend you ..I was completely mad.)
I refused to believe that I could not have the child back that had been lost to me… Steven Kings, Pet cemetery story made perfect sense to me…(If you don't get this part read the book ,but don't watch the movie, cuz you still won't get the allegory through the movie.)
You must truly see how deeply entrenched I was in the complete restoration of my child. Selfishly…I was completely prepared to tear her fragile, delicate heart open to see if she was still there. And She was just as completely ready to let me…I am her mother after all…mother knows best…I am such a bitch!
As I ripped and shredded all the crap from her while she lay perpetually bleeding inside the pain and trauma of my pulling and tugging at her soul…
She's ok…
She's ok…
She's ok…
Her twin remembers…running to get a bowl for her to throw up in as we lay on the floor curled into one another… feeling the trauma all over again…shaking with the velocity of the suffering… medicated and still, so scared…the only way through… is through …right???? again, I'm such a bitch.
Just when her sore would begin to scab over…I picked and picked at it until it bled freely again…relinquishing any of the old to make a fresh new one…only to be picked at again…complete restoration… a word I didn't know yet, but the concept was there. The jackals of hell sat perched next to us, as I washed her non- tear stained face with the fresh washcloth that Fate always had ready…the jackals laughed and told me I was killing her ...she would never be the same…she was damaged…forever broken, doomed to never truly feel anything…
Two stories collide inside my mind as they were told to me…
I had wrapped my baby up in her death shroud.. .her death clothes like Lazarus, believing that I would have her back, snarling and biting at anyone that told me I couldn't…Forcing everyone to do just as I directed…
…. Cocooned and safe inside our misery we clung to each other… all three of us…
…I sat cross legged on the floor of my bedroom looking through the box of pictures… I realized our life was distinctly cut into two separate lines. Before the rape of my children and after. I even had the pictures marked in that way. Metaphorically, One box of 'before' and one box 'after'…unknowingly…until the Spirit of God came and smacked me around a bit…
I sat and looked at the picture of a smiling carefree baby that I clung to...the four year old I craved to hold and smile at…
…and I went away… I lost myself…I caved inside my misery… I suddenly became less… I closed my eyes and saw… an alter… way past a field of green, green grass. I see the alter now… it was made of rocks. shaped from huge rocks to form the alter…I heard a thought inside my head… 'Can you lay her down? Can you put her on this rock and remove her death shroud? Can you put her there and walk away. Remove her clinging fingers from your flesh and walk away? Give her to me…GIVE HER TO ME. Even if it means her death…can you let me have her? Take me to where you lay down your faith and then remove her death clothes, even if she dies… Even if she dies, can you give her to me…'
… suddenly I came back to myself and I felt her real physical presence next to me. She sat with me cross legged on the floor of my bedroom, and held a picture of herself in one hand from the 'before' box, and in her other hand she had a mirror…She wanted to show me…She was practicing …"Is this how I used to smile mommy," and she pasted her little face with the same smile in the picture of before ,yet her smile didn't reach her eyes, still she tried it again and again as I watched I horror… I watched my eight year old try to become four again…right in front of me…she put a mask on for me… for me…for me… so I wouldn't be sad… sickened, and disgusted… I watched her in silence as my heart broke open and poured the pain and tears I had tried so hard to keep in check…
"….give her to me…now!"
…time would not go backwards for me no matter how hard I prayed…
…yet, I couldn't let go…
I closed my eyes and went… To the place…that place …there was no reprieve there either… I saw the alter, I looked down and saw that I held her and she was covered in white cloths. I held her close to me and I began to shred from her the small pieces of cloths…she frantically tried to stop my tearing and pulling… I refused to look her in the eyes…I couldn't, it hurt way to much…she trusted me. I tore the covering I had given her to exist in,
…The apathetic covering of waiting for the miracle of time going backwards for Mary…
I felt my tears in the natural world rain from me… I tore at the cloths as she tried to stop me, I could feel her fear, her disbelief…she had just been trying to please me… then I pushed her up to the slabs of granite… she turned to cling to me…she was naked, uncovered, unclothed…Confusion was the only emotion on her face… I tore her free from me and pushed her onto the cold grey slab…
…death would be better then this… We could no longer exist inside this apathy…
… I would see her again…
….I didn't understand what was happening, or how it could happen…
…just that time was short and I better hurry…
I pushed her from me… My spirit screaming for help…because I was literally drowning in my own tears…
…choking, I turned and walked away as I heard her pleas for me to get her…come and get her… mommy, come back…
…As I opened my eyes again in the physical world around me, she was gone…frantic delirium coursed through me as I stood to find her…
…didn't mean it…
…Didn't mean it…
She lay on the couch, her face and head wet with moisture…she was wet… but never with tears… she was asleep…
…Each time after, I had to give her to Him… it hurt less and less…
Again and again I had to metaphorically push her to Him… I couldn't mend her…He was the only hope we had of any appeasement.
…So I made her cry…
…I had to make her mad…
She was deficient to any genuine feelings…
…she had become quite good at mockery…
…Fake, Fake, Fake… not authentic, suppressed emotions to appear normal…
Anger was the easiest to discover inside her blank walls…
I had to make her angry, and hurt… I had to make her feel something…anything… If she couldn't feel she would never heal, or mend…She would be broken and damaged forever… I would not have that… she would be doomed to manufactured feelings…fake…
Naming emotions did not work. Showing her emotions did not work…blank words on a page… while other mothers showed their five year old the alphabet cards. I was showing mine pictures of emotions on peoples faces. To be real… to feel again…
…I pushed her away again and again… 'not me, I can't save you.' I would whisper wretchedly… I pushed her away… back to Him… It hurt so bad…and I was frozen inside my fear.
…back to Him again and again…
…slowly she began to appear…
………………………………...........Ok, ok…I'll be real, tearing the scab from myself is not as painful, but still very scary…This is how it really went down… no more bull----. This is how I ripped her soul open… disgracefully. This is me, no restraints, undignified and callous, purging to get to the truth at any cost…are you sure you want to know me? Of course you don't! the picturesque leaves are falling outside but, it sounds like hail. Yet, the beauty inside the fall is breathtaking… like that, baby. Just like that.
I sat on the couch. She blankly sat across from me staring at me as she always did… I prayed as I always did…I could recognize the urgency in the feelings around me… She stared at me and I talked to God inside my head…
…and the jackals laughed, 'now she is out there on her own…your not there, no one is there…'
……conflicting thoughts collided……..
…make her feel…something, anything… pick an emotion… my bones ached with constant fatigue…I felt so heavy, my body was beginning to match my soul…So large and bloated with the emptiness around me…
…so tired…
So very tired…
… I began the rant…I didn't feel the words, I contrived them like she did. I mocked the emotion to hurt her…to make her feel… it felt horrible, detestable, acid in my mouth…
…She looked at me suddenly with a new light in her eyes…"mommy, don't say that…" her little girl voice begged me to stop, but I saw the light and felt hope even as I felt complete loathing for the way into her darkened soul…I hated the way my spirit felt as I purged into her soul, hatefully … But I saw the light in her eyes, then the tears came…TEARS! Real honest tears…I ripped her soul open and saw her inner recesses. She was not gone! …just hidden.
…"baby, do you know what that is your feeling right now…" She looked at me as big authentic tears sprung from her eyes…"hate" …she replied… It was the easiest emotion to find.
Frantically I took back all the unbearable words and fell at her feet in a heap… I explained to her that we had just felt her first emotion since the dismantling of her mind and soul. (Some four years earlier. While your child was learning to ride a bike, mine was learning how to feel real emotions again. so you'll excuse me if I can't live in your random world of 'he likes me better then you.. No, he likes me better…STOP! …I please God; not man.) I told her, It feels bad now… but don't let go of it yet…ride it … don't let go…
… medication would be needed and upped at each new emotion we uncovered.(muah! to all the doctors involved and doing exactly what I directed as I needed it and never questioning the pathway back.) we would have to search and find, and bring the feelings back to us…with excruciating lethargy… We were on a journey to find my Lyric and she was well buried.
….finding the beauty in negative spaces…
The path back felt like an eternity, but I see now that it was less then a year. Not even a real year…just a school year… ha, those people at our old school NEVER want to see me again…They thought it would be a great idea to move to another district …yeah, don't fuck with a momma bear. She can smell fear and she will blissfully rip your throat out if you come after her cub… (Really, and not just with words either, I was utterly prepared to battle anyone who stepped in my way.) A wounded cub is not to be messed with.
…purging yesterday to conquer tomorrow…
The battle is bloody and strewn with ugly debris. The bodies you leave laying in waste while you journey on cannot be calculated or respected as you force your way to the other side of authentic belief. It's like I have told my girls and my nieces before them…
…beauty is never painless…
…Pretend is fun, but it's not real…
…Fake is a sad charade…
…Truth is vital and analytical …
…fallacy is a nocturnal obsession…
… deliberate excuses are dangerous…
…fighting defiantly to get to a place where you can rest, as you reflect on the importance of the journey is paramount or you will find yourself without passion, or flavor… salt with no flavor… I implore you to Find a safe place to rest your head… the journey is great; even as the suffering is vast.
************************DISCLAIMER**********************************
Purging and posting the essence of the existence I cruise around in is eminent to the whys I dream about when I am not dreaming of Him, the Holy one. He is the way… the truth…and the life… the same yesterday…today… and forever…truly! I am busy examining the whys, as I careen, headfirst and laughingly into the past of the life I tried to leave behind. Have no fear as I hold you up to the microscope of who you are, I am also diligently peering into the abyss of who I am. I love me even though I am a bitch…I can, because He loves me even when I am un-lovable. I also give you the same consideration. Whispered promises of tomorrow can only make sense if you analyze and dissect the past. Or maybe I am completely insane by now and I am really an old lady reliving my past as I want to see it… no, no I think I would make myself look better if that were the case.
Anyway, we journey through from the things that hurt, my girls and I, and we are busy praying for those that made a difference in our life. There are so many. So don't be a hater…Experiences are stepping stones and we have been sent to do greater things then you can even imagine. I want to be afraid…but He won't let me. I want to stop ,but He won't let go…I owe Him my soul, so I give it to Him as I beseech you to remove the tentacles of the past from my spirit and let us bloom. I can't be who I was…I can only be who I am…today. Pure of heart, full of grace, blissfully happy uncovering Him and understanding the love He pours forth to me continuously. What a God!
************my postings will continue……I have purged all the hate and reserved only the love, so I will diligently march forward into the journey He put before us. Forever resting in the scriptures Luke 6;22-23,27-35 and 2 Corinthians 4;8-10.

Peace and Love,
Mary the great