Its probably enough to say that as the day wore on i was binge eating. From the snack machine. A bear claw, Cheetos, and peanut butter cookies. Ive asked for cereal for dinner. My stomach is upset.
Tomorrow morning i have a dentist appointment. It was a chore to stay here today, i have to remind myself that i did it for a reason. Two people other than myself are in trouble now and thats the Lord’s will. Despite everythibg i found myself delighting in Him today–the “Heaven Sent” messages suggested it and i did. He used me to correct two other souls and i realized in the process that i have a soul myself–something i dont think about enough. Both because it properly limits me, and because in this i can trust Him, im only himan, i make mistakes, who am i to try to dictate what happens? It all passes through His hands. I am small. He is not.
Meek, humble, patient,and kind. These are the words that keep going through my mind. And i see a face: i believe that it is Jesus. I am trying to understand this.
I hope that tomorrow will bring relief from the harassment.
I hope that my son will text me.
I know thst God loves me.
Liquid diarrhea last year after drinking two prune juices.
So I am home from the partial hospital program today. I could have gone but for once I realized that, feeling a little weak, i ran the risk of exposing myself. As I did here last night. I chose to fight my battle here and maybe close the chapter on this unfortunate part of my history,
See “Trouble on the Smoking Porch,” Jan 16th sticky post which means it is at the top and if it is no longer there look at Jan 16th.
Well I went to make this blog private because I feared what would happen if MTM staff stumbled across it. I will make this a sticky post if that is still possible so that in such a case my reasons for keeping a public blog here are apparent. I have made the blog public again.
I announced in my early weeks here, to avert a problem, that “My ex husband helped to blow up the World Trade center.” I have said this so many times to so many people that I didn’t think much of it. Everything was a haze. I’ve gotten cuffed and committed for it, I’ve gotten tasered and commited for it. I’m still recovering from the tasering. That was about 6 years ago. Here it finally came back to me. There were bad vibes, all men on the smoking porch, I thought uh oh, gang bang, and said, “no” to myself. Someone grunted, I saw one woman standing bear the door. Everyone was quiet, I got up to step outside and started thinking,no gang rape. As I approached the smoke receptacle I got the image of getting beat up. Big John said, “That’s her place. 9-11.” I saw my husband cringing in my mind but he fled by the time i got up to my room, the jerk. It actually felt good to be taken seriously on this, oh I’ve got plenty of attitude, I’ve lived with this alone in silence, most of the time, for 20 years (that’s when he sold the GPS devices to an Arab named Ahmed.) When 9 11 happened i was in shock because i had just prayed fir “Christ’s miraculous provision” about my whole life, and my animosity towards the Manhattan elite social set was a big part of it. This was truly terrifying, and I had no way to sort it out, my religion was in an infantile state. So i lived wih it. Day after day. On and on. Years went by and our lives blew up in so many ways across the board, I got I’ll and fell into a desultory relationship with a young Jewish psychiatrist who made me feel human, I lost my place in time and space.
Now it’s coming back to me.
Well Alex ( the ex husband) is going to have to man up and take responsibility for his wife and kid. Our son is struggling to make sense of his life. Push comes to shove. I’m not going to take the fall any more. I’m not sick any more and I’m not laying down and dying any more. The Lord “does not want to harm me but to prosper me, to give me hope and a future,” I am told.
Well there’s another smoke break at 1000 that I don’t usually go out for. I’ll be up late because I’ll have to wait to take a shower. God give me the grace to know what to do.
Cutting to the chase, on the way back up to my room from 6 o’clock smoke break someone behind me whispered “gang bang.” So THAT’S what’s going around. It’s been an awful day. I’m not even going to go into it. But that was the clincher. Now i can feel the way he was looking at ne, the security guard on the smoking deck who lit my cigarette. I was proud to catefully memorize hus name, Paul. Men in uniform always get my automatic respect. A childush habit i will now relinquish. What a jerk. He called me “stagnant ” and “smoked meat” when i was working out my near death experiences. He loves miss K, along with big John, and they took me down for her sake. I’m the English little girl. I have zero or negative status. So, yes, I stumbled into a sexual moment and then there were three men around me and some one said “gang bang,” but I didn’t thing they were serious. At the Extended Acute Care Unit at Sacred Heart Hospital, where I came here from it was gang rape. There i knew they were serious.
Well I’ve had about enough. I’m trying to work out the sexual abuse issue with my parents who are 79 and 85. It’s about time. Theyre still trying to lie to me and say it didn’t REALLY happen. I told my mother I was ready to discuss seeing my father again, I haven’t seen him for several months per the order of the doctor at EAC Sacred Heart. But she had to have it her way. I went out with her after church. On the way back, she took a back road and drove a over Hell’s half acre trying o get me lost and disoriented, attempting to place fear in my mind. Thats what they did right after the abuse hsppened, they put me in the car and said we were going to tbe mall, the rest is a blank. Theres also the sexual anuse by my brother, the possible incident when I was 13 that I only partially remember, and the likely physical abuse by my mother when I was very small. All this was lost in the vortex and trauma of the injury from being kneed in the crotch by my brother when I was small, which gave me an odd handicap which wore my mother out. So right now I’m looking at all of this and just about going out if my mind.
They want me for meds.
Well there’s a line and security guard Paul and Jackass little John are there so I’ll go back later,
What a horrible day.
Oh yeah, and when called my ex for help, he turned off the voice mail (i called twice.)
I made it to Church this morning. It wasn’t easy.
Back home I realized that it is possible that the trouble may be that my new therapist may not be Catholic, I found myself questioning the Eucharist and finding it silly instead of beautiful. And I had some trouble getting there that made me uncomfortable. But thus time I sat with the staff member who brought us and the other resident who came, and i had a feeling of fellowship; the first time I went i sat alone and felt ostracized. I was afaid to go back. I had to leave for five minutes during the sermon part of the mass as i was having bad thoughts. When I went back in I focused in “the beautiful, the admirable, and the lovely:” the large crucifix over the altar, and the image of the face of Jesus in my mind. I have never recovered from these bad thoughts before. This time I did.
I was thinkibg if going all week. All in all I am very glad i made it. After my experience of healing of a terrible physical condition yesterday, i knew I had to go.
I would be irresponsible of I didn’t take a moment to say that, even at this moment of profound relief, and my first moments if true Christian faith notwwithstanding, I am still broken up by the two abortions. I called my mother, suddenly, I wanted to make sure I was in touch, she just turned 79, anything could happen. I think that she was relieved.
But nothing heals the abortions. The move farther and farther into the past and I go awhile without thinking of them. I think if them almost with a smile sometimes, for 2 little lives that I knew for a short time, the agony is gone so I smile. But there they are when i go to take a steep look at my life. It remains. Two deaths, 2 murders, 2 violent ends. Two hearts stopped beating. It’s not all right. It’s nevet all right.
Take that you phoneyass liberal mercenary lesbian proabortion cowards.
My bowels just started working again. Anybody who has followed me for awhile knows that i have suffered horrible problems with constipation. Not to belabor it again here, suffice it to say that after going 3 weeks without sleep in 2003 on a psych ward while refusing Zyprexa, an anti Psychotic medication, I got terrible paina in the back of my neck when I tried to to go to the bathroom. It was so painful I was terrified and immediately afraid to go to the bathroom again. Well I have told this story again and again over the years without getting any help. Just now after using a suppository, I said to myself, it’s been 15 years. Shit happens. (Not to mix up a metaphor.) Maube this shit is over. And suddenly i had a strong, normal urge to go and passed a small, misshapen but acceptable stool. Not to embarrass anybody. I’ve said worse.
Everything is coming together around this 15 year tine line. The 3 weeks without sleep when my cat died, and my pet mouse, and then my grandmother.
But honestly for God’s sake the deeply personal shame and embarrassment of this constipation problem, I have 3 years of diaries at the end recording laxatives taken and details of successes in the bathrooms. I had no idea how ill I was getting. Suddenly all I wanted to do was lay down, I didn’t even want to sit up to smoke, i would lasy still for 1/2 an hour and say “God take me.” And then the overdose. He let me do it. Knowing what he would do.
Well i went back to my early morning post and changed it but, as it said there, what I am going through is a powerful witness to anybody who wants to listen and i didntt want to change even a comma.
Now, a couple of hours and one smoke break later, I am back on track with my personal Saviour.
On my knees, I see where the voice that led me out of bed and down the hall to the bathroom first thing in the dark morning hours, was Satanic, and had me moving to Satan’s beat. Before i even had time to reason. According to the rules of my mental process, which probably sound pretty odd. I avoided it — the moment, the voice, my following it–out of existence, halting its effect on me, retroactively. So now I am back in the saddle of my day, praying, following my therapist, and sanctified in Christ rather than in all these little glitches and interruptions i suffer. The last thing being a tough one that is going to take time and a LOT of trust in Almighty God.
I hate to say that i woke up with Satan this morning, that I saw him clearly and easily, his deception, how facile and silly it was, his angle was to target my trust in my new therapist.
She had to go through my parents as i slept and dreamed, and that’s how i woke up hogtied, i finally realuzed.
Because of this I failed to resist him, I asked the Lord to rebuke him according to the St. Michael Archangel Prayer,
But i am in a nasty struggle.
My story is a powerful witness, the Lord tells me, and Satan wanted me to come here (and my parents also, who follow my thoughts) and post that I was having a bad time to scare away others. Oh God you are so beautiful, beautiful, so glorious, glorious. That’s a song on Christian radio i was listening to the other day.
Lord, I know that you’re with me and, whatever you do is to prosper me, that I have hope and a future in you. You’ve led me to this place for a reason. Not my will, but yours be done.
On my knees today…
At the end of the day I am with God and for God. He is asking for “meekness, kindness, patience and humility” via “Heaven Sent” messaging to my phone which happily appeared on my cell phone a few days ago, I welcomed it immediately and it meets me right where I am at. I took the risk of suffering up my mental glitches and praying without addressing them and was instantly dismayed at losing control, that my prayer, the Lord’s Prayer, went astray and was lost to desultory thoughts but I said to myself, or Jesus said to me, God knows what youre praying for. So I found myself asking, “God, what do you want me to be doing here?” (*Here” meaning Mount Trexler Manor and the associated New Vitae Wellness and Recovery clinic.) Praying, I got that, and then he showed me how lonely I am here and how I don’t have a single friend and I thought of smoking cigarettes in my apartment and having coffee, and thought of asking my mother to come out and scoop me up for a breath of fresh air and a coffee drink at the Wawa. But i didn’t. Then I saw the therapy, and that the therapist asked if she could do “Christian therapy” and now all this makes sense. I went to smoke and saw Miss K on the way back in, who I had forgiven, and exchanged a greeting, and my roommate was pleasant when she came back to the room a few minutes after me. (I was being nasty to her over her constantly talking to her voices and some other things and we had hit an impasse.)
So foiveness is key. I prayed and forgave another person–a Christian–and myself for a terrible involvement that was going on for weeks, I was trying to leave it behind with 2017, but he persisted. So we must love each other, fellow Christians, because others know us by our love for one another. It was really ugly. I have let it go. I pray he does also, He is a little slow.
So I finally understand “putting on a new nature.”
It’s taken me 21 years of “Act as if you believe and faith will follow,” and now I’m finally connecting
I’m looking at a brand new life.