|Posted by More Than Me on June 15, 2012 at 9:00 PM||comments (0)|
I haven't written anything in the last 10 months other than letters to my new born son. I was pregnant and had the most difficult time with it. Preeclampsia with high blood pressure and severe round ligament pains were my issues. I was on bedrest most of the time and it was very hard to move when I had to. I spent my time in a brain fog and trying to think what am I going to do now that I had a baby on the way. It kept me away from writing. I felt lazy and worthless because I couldn't do what I wanted, move like I wanted, or even eat what I wanted. I guess it felt like a pre baby depression. Now that he is here though, I am doing a lot better.
We both spent many weeks in the hospital and I am thankful to God that we are both doing much better. Because of him, we were able to walk out of the hospital and enjoy the comforts of our own beds. There truly is no place like home. My son was born 10wks early and has been a fighter every day since. He has fought hard to overcome his short comings at birth, from his under development to his low birth weight. Today, he is the smallest mighty man I know.
My family has been a tremendous help to my son and I. I wouldn't have been able to make it through this pregnancy without my mother especially. The love that surrounds us from my family will keep us and sustain us through our trying times. I haven't worked in over a year due to health issues and then the writing of my fantasy fiction novel, but as I was about to make a turn in my financial situation I became pregnant. It has been a hard, lonely pregnancy due to the lack of involvement of my son's father, but that is a story for another day. Today my son and I are happy and mostly healthy, I still have a way to go, but he is doing way better than me
|Posted by More Than Me on October 15, 2011 at 9:55 AM||comments (0)|
I woke up with this on my spirit and I had to share it. I've put myself in a lot of positions I didn't want to be in because of this unknown fear in me that incouraged me to say Yes, despite my reservations. I could have saved myself a whole lot of pain and anguish by saying no to fear. Fear is of the enemy and I don't want to afraid of my own excellence and my own shadow. By saying no to fear, I'm claiming my life and emancipating myself from its mastery.
I was a prideful and scared sinner and lived as best I could in the shelter of both. What I learned as I got older is that I wasn't living a life at all. I was just surviving. My head was barely above water and I was spirit was gasping for air, gasping for life. The love God had (and still has) for me I couldn't see because I was blinded by the lack of love for myself. My prideful shell didn't show I lacked love for me, but on the inside I knew.
I drank heavily and fornicated regularly. Despite my past and what has happened to me throughout my life, my body was not the temple to me that it should have been and I thank God for carrying me when I couldn't or wouldn't carry myself.
If my words are of help to anyone, that is all I can ask for. When I was younger, I didn't think I had a voice anyone was willing to listen to, so I said and did things they couldn't or wouldn't pass over. Being molested as a child, I didn't have a lot of reservations to sex and sexual acts. It's not that I wanted to do them, I just didn't care one way or the other if I did them. If a boy wanted to touch me inappropriately, most of the time I let them if they could ever catch me alone.
My spirit was ripped apart by the acts I let myself be privy too, and now as it's becoming whole again I look back as see all the times and places I should have said no. All the drunken nights when I barely made it home and would fall asleep at the wheel, I should have said no. I thank God for seeing me through that too. I thank him especially for me not injuring anyone other than myself in my drunken plights with anything more than a word.
No is a powerful word. Even though I may have said No when I was being raped and it didn't stop the attacker, at least I still had some fight in me. At least I didn't lose all of my spirit or else right now, I would be dead. I would have died a long time ago. Though sometimes I feel some parts of me are dead and won't ever come back, I am glad for the parts of me that are alive and sustains me.
I want you to know, it's okay to say NO. I wish I did it more in my youth, but there is still plenty to say no to in my adulthood. The enemy never sleeps and he is just waiting for me to give in to his intimidation and fear. It's so easy to live the life of death that he wants me too, but I choose to live the life God has promised me abundantly. I choose to be free of fear, intimidation, condemnation, society's pressures, and most of all I choose express my freedom with God's love and his blessings.
|Posted by More Than Me on September 23, 2011 at 5:35 PM||comments (0)|
In my twenties, I dated men of all nationalities and races...Serbian/Yugoslavian, Croatian, Romanian, Dutch, Korean, Cambodian, Morrocan~French, German, Egyptian, Nigerian, African Decent American, Caucasian American, Caribbean, Palestinian, and Pakistani....off the top of my head. They were all nice men in their own way, but the common thread of those that weren't full "black" or mixed with "black" was that I couldn't be brought home to meet the family. Our relationship would not be accepted. That was usually when the break up would happen. If I'm not good enough to meet your family, you aren't good enough to date me.
I was really saddened have to part ways with some of them, because I really thought we could have had something special, but when it came down to it I realized that we all have our own familial prejudices. We all have someone we paused before taking them home. I am grateful for the experiences I received with these men because they helped mold me to the woman that I am now. A couple of them I wished death upon for a period of time, but that is stories for a different blog. I am happy with me now. I learned thru trial and error what I want and don't want, what I will and won't accept, and how I look and treat other people of other races.
Granted, you can learn those things from people of your same race and background, but there is a slight difference to the education. If I was a different person, the fact that these men would shower me with the world as long as it didn't involve their parents and parents community, it would have given me a complex. I'm glad I'm as strong as I am and know my worth and beauty inside and out.
My advice for dating outside your race or religion is make sure you have a partner that is strong enough in themselves that they would have your back in this world no matter what comes your way together. There are quite a few old world parents and grandparents that you will just never please, so as long as you two are ready for the fight...blaze trails. If you aren't however, find someone your own speed.
|Posted by More Than Me on September 17, 2011 at 4:25 PM||comments (0)|
I've had a lot of death in my family recently, and the one that affected me the most was that of my cousin, who was like my sister. She was murdered 3 months ago and I dreamt about her for the first time a couple of nights ago. The dream was very surreal. In it, I had 3 paths to chose from for my life. One path lead me to being lost, another path (the one she was on) lead me to death, and the third path (that I couldn't see as clearly) lead me to love, success and happiness.
I've been asking God to make my steps clear to me and I guess this is as clear a sign as he can give me. As obvious as the paths look to outside onlookers, on the inside the choices are a little harder. The only thing that makes it easy is the first two paths I'm doing for other people and the third path I'm doing for myself.
The path for myself which leads to love, success and happiness is so scary because in my dream as well as real life it is the most unknown path. In my dream it was gray and shadowy, not as clear and as full of life as the other two paths. It just promised greatness as I chose to work through it. The lack of clarity and predictabitlity was and is scary. There was a figure of a man waiting for me in this tunnel and he was a gray shadow too.
I've been asking God to make my husband as well as my path clear to me and he has given me a choice. Now I know that the things I asked him for are all on the same path. Am I going to let fear keep me off of it and choose instead to stay with one of my predictable certainty of spiritually lost or dead? Or, am I going to be a big girl now and choose to live my life on the path that I will splash color on as I travel through it?
Fear has had a way of holding me back from doing great things, but I can't live in fear anymore. I have to live for me. I have to find my passion for life, my paintbrushes to splash colours on my own walls instead of everyone elses.
|Posted by More Than Me on September 6, 2011 at 12:30 AM||comments (0)|
I was in church on Sunday and my pastor gave a very compelling sermon. In it, his spirit spoke to mine when he said if you want different you have to do/be different. You have to shake things up a bit and change socially, politically, and economically; knowing there is always a price to pay for change.
I used to be tired of having to battle my demons and my past so hard, living in such a severe case of denial to a lot of things that I was ready to call it quits, but God wouldn't let me. Then as I came to grips with my life, dealing with who I was and who I am now, I was able to get a better grip on my struggles with my physical, spiritual, and emotional life.
If you aren't specific in what you ask for, you get a loose translation of what you ask for. I had to learn that too. Be purposeful and specific. There are a lot of things I want out of life, but the things I can do for others to get what they want out of life, I can't seem to do for myself. I try many things, but still seem to fall short no matter how hard I work. It is disheartening at times, but it is not in me to give up on anything. Good or bad, I ride with it until it can't be riden any more.
How do I shake things up? It's more than moving to another city or state, because that can just be taken as running. I've done that many times before. The problem with running is, you are bringing yourself with you and unless you change along with your zipcode, your surroundings will turn in to the same. What do I believe in? What do I stand for? Where do I want to go and where do I want to be? Who do I want to be? What did God call me for? What is my purpose for the life he has given me? Once I can answer those questions for myself, making the changes in my life would be easier. They have been easier, as I transition to the woman in Christ I'm supposed to be.
I still have far to go, but I'm on the road. I'm on my way. I am jumping over speedbumps and leaping over hurdles with God's coaching and grace. Even in my darkest times, he's never left me alone and I am forever thankful. Grateful for this life he has blessed me with, the good and the bad.
|Posted by More Than Me on August 30, 2011 at 1:30 PM||comments (0)|
I know my calling now and I know the gift I'm to use to share my gift. What I don't know is how to fake the passion in my life that has long been missing. I wish I knew how to go about getting it back. I am so lost in the fog sometimes that I can't see past the next minute, much less the day. At random times I do checks on my life. I ask myself if I was to die right now, am I happy with what I've done. I have to say yes. Lack of passion and all, I still have to say yes.
I have written books and published them, I opened a restaurant, I was married once and I was a good family member and friend to most. I've loved in my own way and lost. I have also been learning how to let people in. It's been a process, but I'm getting a little better as time goes by, or I could be deluding myself with my numbness to life's hurt and pains.
The thing I'm best at faking passion for is sex. Once I am in it, my body reacts as it normally would to stimulation. If it's someone I truly want, just talking to him would get me excited, but if he is someone I would use just for a sexual release, it's going to take a bit more, because it's just sex. Making "love" transports me out of my body. I get lost in a world that is different from the one I'm on. It feels like I can look back and see what I'm doing and I can share myself more as I'm detached from me.
I wish it was the same with my writing. I can write about sex, infatuation, and romantic love, but when it comes to emotions and feelings of loss I am so numb to those, I can't fake them on paper. I wish I could, I even deluded myself thinking I could do so, but I can't. I am so separated from those feelings in my real life, I can't give them to my characters to express.
I started this website in part to help me find those feelings I gave up on a long time ago from a little girl to now. I thank God for his pressence in my life for saving me so many times, not only from death, but from the paths of true death with my soul and spirit lost.
I've been told many times that a part of me is dead and it died when my cousin was murdered recently by a "man" that was stalking her. I agree with part of that statement. A part of me is dead, but it died way before my cousin's death. Her death just added a bigger piece to the blackened hole I carry around with me. Now, I am trying to seal up that whole, but I just don't know where to begin. That is why I was lead to this site. The creation of it is not only to help me purge, but to let others know they are not alone and to let me know I am not alone.
Not only is God with me, who ever you are reading this is with me too, and I am with you. I am going to stop looking to outward things to get my passion back. I am now starting to look within me as I find the GOD in ME.
~Be Blessed Always~
|Posted by More Than Me on August 22, 2011 at 12:20 AM||comments (0)|
It seems like another lifetime ago that I was once married. Another life, another me, yet still the same in some ways. The masques are always there, hiding what lies beneath it's surface ready to come bubbling out. From a child I became a master of disguise and in transitioning to womanhood that skill became all the more handy.
Behind the masque I hid my pain, insecurities, and the trials of my relationship as I did everything else. To show no kind of emotion or feeling was my crutch. The only time I felt anything was when I would get injured. When I started seriously contemplating murder/suicide, I decided it was time to go. I wasn't ready to die nor was I willing to go to jail for killing him.
Our story started with innocence in childhood. I've known my ex-husband's family all of my life. In a way you can say we grew up together. When I was 11, he expressed his interest in me; he was just a year older. Back then I told him I was not interested and I really wasn't. It wasn't until I turned 14 that I was ready to accept his feelings. When I did that, within two weeks time he started expressing how much he loved me. I was a little wierded out by his attentions at first, but I liked the attention and I encouraged it.
Love is a powerful emotion. My family didn't like me being with him, but they never gave me a reason why, other than he wasn't good enough for me. I needed more of a reason. I was the type of person that had to learn things by experiencing it myself, the hard way. I've grown out of my stubborness for that. I've learned which instances are need to be experienced and which ones are better left alone. Time and life experiences taught me that.
When things were good, they were really good. When they were bad, they were really bad. I wasn't my true self when I was with him. I sacrificed myself, my family, and my friends for love when I didn't know what love really was. I acted in a way foreign to my usual strength of character and I didn't know why.
He was a man of masques too. No one on the outside knew how insecure and troubled he was on the inside. I didn't even know for a long time. When he stopped doing as well at concealing himself to me, I was in trouble and the love I had for him tied me to him longer than I should have been.
I should have listened to my first voice at 11 that told me to leave him alone. Instead, I went with teenage hormones that has done nothing but get me in trouble throughout my growing years. Those hormones got me involved and married to the wrong man, who in the end did nothing but verbally abuse me. When he started to physically abuse me, I left. As tempted as I was to go back, the thing that kept me from not doing that was the fact that he raped me. He said he did it so I would come back to him and he wanted to make me feel good. He did this with the knowledge that I was raped before and how troubled I was with it.
I felt nothing but a severe hatred for him after that, and I NEVER looked back at him afterwards.
My divorce was one of the happiest days of my life. I tried to make it work, but in the end, it never should have been. Looking back now, I see the different areas where God tried to warn me, but I couldn't hear him and I wouldn't listen.
I'm attentive now Lord, and your way is the only way my life should be and will be lived.
|Posted by More Than Me on August 14, 2011 at 12:10 AM||comments (1)|
When I was a child:
I was teased a lot about the size of my lips by the boys in class until we crossed puberty and they decided they wanted to kiss them.
I was picked on because of my cheap clothes and shoes until the girls around me saw the attention I got and then decided they liked the look of them.
I was called ugly and cast aside from family members until I went away to college and they saw the potential in me.
I was touched inappropriately and didn't understand how deep of an affect that had on me until I found out later on what sex and sexual activities really were.
I turned my heart to stone early because I learned that what ever I accumulated for myself, someone would always try to take it from me.
I learned not to save money because if I don't have any to give, I would not get hurt feelings lending to borrowers that would never return it.
I was looked at with contempt from adults who constantly tried to break my spirit until I learned how to break theirs.
I was given the greatest lesson; If anything happens to you its your fault, so I took from that, as a little girl, I am responsible for me, I must take care of me, if anything happens to me I was to blame.
I carried the last one with me the longest. I still have it with me today. It still plays in my head when I think about the times I was raped and abused because I put myself there. I should have been a better judge of character or listened to the signs better, but because I didn't I was abused and mistreated.....because of me. I was to blame.
I had to really unlearn that last one for my sanity, more than the rest because some of the things that happened to me were out of my control. I didn't make anyone drug my water, hit me as if I was their child, or enter me against my will. If I was stronger and was able to fight back more than I did, those things may not have happened to me. I learned to be more aware of the people around me and the company I keep.
I don't take out on anyone what others have done to me, but for a long time I took it out on myself. I didn't have a relationship with anyone for a long time because that was a way of me taking control of my life. No man is an island, or so I've been told, so I have been trying to open up more. I have been trying to let in those that truly love me and have my best intrest at heart. I have also been working on not hurting others because of the hurt others have done to me. I know I have hurt some people in my wake and I am sincerely sorry for it. Some of them I have lost contact with, but the others that are still around I hope they know without a doubt how truly sorry I am.
Well, until next time folks. I am a work in progress and I just pray to be made whole one day.
|Posted by More Than Me on August 13, 2011 at 1:15 PM||comments (1)|
Men have the same reaction to me all over I think. They all want to fuck me. A couple of them have wanted to wife me, but they are few and far between and they have ended up hurting me. Not usually sexually, but emotionally. What am I doing wrong? What am I supposed to do? A man normally don’t realize how good he had it withme until I am completely done with him and am in the process of starting over and moving on. Why can’t they realize that while they have me? Why is it theymust insist on hurting me? What makes people this way? What makes men this way towards me?
I feel used. I have used many in my time, but only in response to the use and abuse I have received in my lifetime. How can Istop this cycle of hurt and pain? What can I do to maintain my sanity? I need you now lord. I need you to save me, tosave my soul. I am on my knees now lord, help me make it through. Help make me one with you. I do things sexually with men that I don’t want to do sometimes and I feel like I am being raped all overagain. How can I stop this cycle within myself? I want to change lord. I want to live right in you. I want you to help me find my way. Give me the strength to say no and accept the consequences as they may. Give me the strength to walk away and know that standing on my own feet will be okay.
Lord please help me find my way. Lord as a creature of my environment I havecome to enjoy the pleasures of sex immensely and because of that, I give my partner sexually what I can give of me and my spirit at the time, even when I don’t feel I have much of a spirit to give. I need your help lord in breaking the bonds of my past sexual experiences. All of those which are holding my spirit down, holding my life down, holding my future down, lord please strip there power over me away. Lord for all those people looking to bind me and my spirit from achieving a successful and righteous life lord, please strip there power off of me. Please loose their tether that binds me and allow me to slip away refreshed, renewed.
Lord, I am looking for a man to love me. I want a man that loves me and only me. I want a man that will put me first that I can put first. I want a man that I can live righteous in the lord with. I want a man that will accept me for me, my faults and all and cherish me. I want a handsome man that stands tall above me in height because I like to wear my heels. I want a man that can take care of me financially because I am tired of working so hard. I want a man that will support a career of my choice and love me unconditionally. I want a good man that won’t abuse me or their power over me. I want a man that will give his all to me that I can give my all to physically, emotionally, and spiritually. I am tired lord. I am tired of running, I am tired of wanting, and I am tired of waiting. Lord please send my man, my partner, my spiritual soldier in life to me to fight through life’s battles side by side with me. I need him now lord, I am drowning and am waiting for him to rescue me. I am waiting for you to rescue me. Lord please help me.
I am worn out. My spirit, though still lively, is starting to fade. I don’t want to give up, I can’t give up. I am scared of the person I will become if I do. My treatment toward mankind could already stand for some improvement, but if I fall lord, I’m afraid it will only get worse. I have been independent for so long that now that I am too tired to fight through life alone anymore, everyone is looking for someone independent. I don’t want to be independent anymore. I need help, I need someone to be there for me, I need someone to support me and I need someone to love me. I need that someone to be the man of my dreams come to reality. I need him strong in mind, body, and spirit. I need him strong in handsome looks, personality, and convictions. I need him to be flexible still though so we can work with each other through things, and I need him to put me up on a pedestal where I belong with my faults and all. I want him to have a nice body, I want him to be able to pick me up and sweep me off my feet. I need him to want me as much as I want him, but not to be overly possessive, obsessive, and controlling like my first husband. I need him to become my partner in life and marriage.
I want to find him in this year of 2009 if I don’t know him already. I need him to be funny and outgoing. I need him to make me laugh and smile daily, even when I don’t want too. I want him to replace the hurt in my heart. Lord, I need him to dry up the tears I am crying on the inside. I need him to help me trust in humanity again and open myself up unconditionally to life. I need your help lord in healing my hurt and pain. He can’t do it alone.
|Posted by More Than Me on August 11, 2011 at 11:25 PM||comments (0)|
The first time I was raped, I was 19 years old. I had just moved to FL, maybe about 6 months and had made friends with some guys there I met at one of the jobs I held. When I no longer worked in that particular place, I still kept in contact with them because I thought they were cool and we always had a good time when we hung out.
I had been to one of their homes many times before for game nights and get togethers, so I didn't see the problem with me going over there on this one particular night. I never felt an impending threat to my virtue or anything else. At the time I was going thru one of my phases where I was fasting, so I wasn't eating before 6 or drinking any alcohol. Strictly water.
The night was going as all the others had gone. I was having a good time even though I was one of the only ones not drinking. It was getting late and even though I wasn't drinking, I didn't have my license at the time. One of my so-called friends who was supposed to take me home ended up drinking to much, like everyone else, and ended up offering up his bed to me since he couldn't take me home.
Stupid me. I took him up on the offer and continued enjoying the night with everyone else. I couldn't tell you when I blacked out. I didn't know how I did. Did someone put something in my water? The answer would have to be yes, because there is no way somebody can black out from drinking water.
I woke up briefly at one point in that night with my pants off and my underwear gone. I tried to take in my surroundings, but I couldn't. I didn't have control of my body, but my so-called friend who offered his bed to me was moving around my dead limbs as he pumped away inside me. I tried to cry out, scream even, but nothing was coming out. I passed back out.
When I woke up, I was redressed partially and I was in the bed alone. I didn't know what to think. I was groggy, as if I'd been drinking all night with a mean headache. I got up, completed getting dressed, and found my way to the bathroom. I told myself over and over in the mirror that what I thought happened didn't happen and maybe I ate something bad. I washed my face and walked over to the couch where my so-called friend lay and asked him to take me home.
He didn't say anything to me. He just jumped up, got his keys, and proceeded to the car. I slowly followed him. For some reason I was taking in my surroundings, even though I knew there was no way I would ever return. I was quiet on the whole ride home. I just looked around remembering the outside of the house, the street it was on, and all the streets that seperated my house from his.
I am normally bad with directions. I can go to the same place 10 times and not be able to tell you how to get there, but for some reason I tried my best to remember that time, even though my head was banging and my grip on reality was not all together there.
When I got home, I just got out the car without a word and went straight to the bathroom. I hopped into the hot shower and let the water run over me as I cried over and over again. After being under the water scrubbing myself until it got icy cold, I just sat in the tub as my body and it air dried. I stared into nothing. It was a reality I couldn't face. I was determined to block it out as I did every other bad thing that happened to me.
I made myself forget the directions to his house, even though that took a while. I made myself forget his name, though I could never forget his face or frame. I made myself forget all the so-called friends I made that had anything to do with him, but I always remembered what the house looked like inside and out. I tried to make myself forget what he did to me too, but sometimes it just keeps coming back.
It has never left me. Even though it is always in the back of my mind, in writing this thread is the first time I have brought it to the forefront in the 12 years since it happened. The tears flow silent and wet, but I am here and I didn't break. I learned from that experience and have never put myself in a position like that again. I got my license and took control the best I could of my own life.
I stopped fasting after that, for a long time. I started back drinking heavily and lashing out at people. I was drowning bad, and it's only by God's grace that I'm still alive today. I should have been dead so many times since then, but he always manages to spare my life. Today, I may still shed a tear over this particular occurence in my life for the young girl that was caught unawares, but I can breathe easier now, live my life better now, and I know I am destined for more than a broken shell.
I never reported him to the police, never told a sole about him or what he did to me. The people that lived with me didn't even know because the mask I showed them didn't show the girl balled up inside naked and vulnerable. They saw me as they see me today. My facade shows them strength, courage, and hardness. I always said I will fake it till I make it, but I am tired of faking it so I am making my life echo my mask one step at a time.
As I pick up the pieces to my so-called life trying to make me whole, I am grateful and I am blessed. I am thankful for the breathe God continuously blows on me.