Down, but not out. I am digging deep, putting more effort each day into getting well. Physically, pushing my body, my muscles to heal. The hip surgery set me back, I’m older and the fight to get back to my old energy level is very hard.
But I’m not going to take this aging thing lying down! Which is, literally, what my mind is telling me to do. There is a heaviness to my limbs…the word for how I feel is CUMBERSOME.
I joined a Weight loss app for a 3 week trial. I am fighting the negative voices from my childhood about my weight. NO! I refuse to go back to being slovenly, to not caring, to eating entire bags of cookies in half an hour, then wallowing in guilt and self-loathing for weeks. NO!!
I CAN get well, I AM fine now. My energy is returning, I am improving, exercising, tracking my food, my mood, my steps. Being accountable feels good. So, now I rest. A good day, doing good things.
I am GRATEFUL today. Thank you , my God. For your Son, Jesus. For forgiving me…for loving me. I CAN do this. I AM doing this!!
Too many offshoots and alleyways. Let’s move along a few years to 2020…Pandemic lock down, I’m working on Zoom with some friends. Suddenly, Donna breaks in with a plea,
” Would anyone like a Maine Coon kitten?”
All the girls pipe up with ooohs! and aaahs! The idea of a warm, fuzzy kitten is SO appealing, so comforting in this lonely isolation. I was down to just one outside cat, Frenchy. She was pushing 16, Fogerty and Ollie had died the year before. In the interim, I had also lost 2 of my beloved dogs to cancer and old age. My remaining little Shih Tzu, Kleo, had become much less active as she aged. Perhaps a kitten would be a nice addition to my little homestead.
My little “not a Maine Coon” kitten as delivered within 3 days. Super fuzzy, a golden cloud, he is a special boy. I name him Zignatious Horatio Needlefingers, and I fall in love. The new routine wasn’t too bad. One catbox, one kitten, one dog to feed and vet seemed manageable.
Things rapidly changed. My kind heart was about to be sorely tested. Approximately one month later, I rescued a half-grown boy cat who I found crying his little heart out in my neighbors front hedges. It was after a “fireworks” holiday; he had obviously run away in the horrible onslaught of noise. My biker neighbor had been feeding him lunch meat, but he needed proper care. I bundled him into the house and he quickly became the Zag to my Zig. They were now happy playmates. But the vet bills and catboxes had now doubled.
WHY DID I ALWAYS HAVE TO BE THE SAVIOR? WHAT CHARACTER DEFECT MADE ME A SUCKER FOR LOST ANIMALS?
Looking back now, I understand the pattern. I had been a mother to my alcoholic, abusive husband. The caregiver for my beloved Mom during her illness- even before. She was so needy all my life, telling me she “lived through me”. Finally, being mother/ caregiver to my dear Dad. Caring for his every need as his madness progressed into a second childhood and excruciatingd death. All those years of caregiving through all those events made me feel needed, wanted, and useful. Loved.
The convoluted and traumatic relationships and disfunction had left me with a void, a pit inside me. And I was filling it with warm, furry little bodies. Ever the caregiver, ever the mother. My self-worth depended on having people and/or pets to care for.
Oh Joyful heart, where are you today? From so much light I now feel only pain.
Where did my optimism run away to hide,
Why now this dread that cannot be denied?
She thought she had come away unscathed, from the turmoil, the abuse
…and rage.
But disease was just below the surface all along, and now the Piper must be paid…
Oh senseless one, unreasonable and blind, don’t mind your feeble, fluctuating mind, because as your marbles leave you, they are cast: to the wind and to infinity, at last.
She had packed up all her winter clothes, put away her childhood toys, went to bed under many uncertain memories
Oh boy, I’m very excited. You know I go thru the highest of highs, then crash to the ground? Well, this time I’m doing something good for my future as a fine artist…I’ve been accepted to study classical art under a great Artist: Eduardo Salazar!! I am over the moon! I know it will take years of dedicated study, but I will soar to new heights.,.All the beautiful images in my head will have new ways to be rendered in my hands, with my new skills, new ways of seeing.
I dreamed, ALL MY LIFE, to study under a great Artist…now , finally, this dream is reality. I hope you will come along on this incredible journey,!
¡TRIGGER WARNING! This post deals with domestic violence, physical assault and ptsd flashbacks. Please use discretion!
Ah, dear husband of mine. How you never leave me. I can remember your last punch like it was yesterday. Dear previous boyfriend; thanks so much for hitting me in the face so hard that you broke the hard contact lenses in both of my eyes. Oh, and for the chipped front tooth.
Dear Ex-Fiance, the lovely memories of you stalking me never leave. I can still hear your trucks engine idling outside my bedroom window at 4 in the morning. A few weeks later you murdered your Dad, and yourself…
And dear Husband of mine, how often I still hear your calling me “Stupid Bitch”, and can still feel your knee across my neck as my vision faded to black. I was sure I was dead, and I was glad. I would never again have to see the evil hatred in your eyes… But no, I wasn’t dead, I had six more years to live with you, memories of being stabbed, shot at and beaten unconscious. Oh, the memories…
But I’m still here, after all this time. I’m alive, and my abusers are not. Maybe some still live, but I am free, and I am strong and I am beautiful.
My God saved me from all of them.
So, when the flashbacks come, and come they do…I know to hold on. Hold on tight to my faith. Hold on tight to what I know is real, and turn off the sights and sounds that rise up to try to torment me.
My God loves me, and has put my feet on level ground. He has given me the priceless gift of a clean conscience, washed clean with the forgiveness purchased thru the life blood of his perfect Son. I am free of the chains of addiction, of abuse, and of my own self-loathing. I am grateful. And free. Today was a hard day, in that the flashbacks came out to play. For whatever reason I was triggered , for a while. But this day is over, successfully lived. I can rest me weary eyes and start fresh tomorrow…
Head in the Clouds c. SusanTMartin2023
I thank God for relieving me of the abusers, the abuse, the sickness of thinking I deserved the terrible mistreatment I endured.
It is a good feeling to care about myself…
It has been a long road, including years of therapy and hard work.
I hope I can help others find the courage to heal.
Out of the Gutter Art 
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