Wounded Woman

5bc9e87e975941fc2b3f8f495690f93a-d3bxc9o                                            pic credit/Cold Wounds by badccintra

 

Wounded Woman

You can tell by the look in her eyes.

A beautiful sadness, silent cries.

The lines of her face

mark passages of time.

The scars and stories, she can’t erase.

Wounded Woman

She carries immense weight

on her shoulders.

A lifetime of trauma and pain;

but, the heaviness doesn’t stop her

from dancing in the rain.

dancing in the rain

Wounded Woman

twirled and thrusted

until she broke through

to the other side.

Alas, in Great Spirit she trusted,

and set herself free,

never again to hide.

Wounded Woman

She wove her wounds

like an intricate web of Grandmother Spider;

as she journeyed deep inside her.

She found the truth and beauty

of her own old soul.

Her spirit held all the selves, the keys.

Thus, Wounded Womanbecame whole. …<3

 

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Grief and Anger

My dad’s one year memorial just passed. Unresolved emotions makes it hard to let go.
I feel stuck in my grief and realize the “daddy’s little girl” in me, will be sad forever.
What about the rest of me?
I feel sad my father and I didn’t have more of a relationship.
Habitually I passed right over anger.
I don’t want to be angry at myself, I don’t deserve it.
I’m not mad at daddy, it’s just sad we didn’t connect more in this lifetime.
This is the bullshit I tried to feed myself.
I also fed myself a bunch of carbs and washed it down with a big glass of wine.
Thankfully, I have grown to be self aware enough to recognize my emotional eating and drinking as a sign something was wrong. Stuck in the thickness of grief and anger. Literally and figuratively constipated. Unable to release.

In therapy, I found my elusive friend again, anger.
Yes! I AM angry!
I put my daddy on a pedastal. He was my superhero.
I needed him too much to be angry. I was too afraid to be angry.

I’m angry daddy! You chose booze and women over your own children!
Then when you were sober, you chose pride and expected us to take the blame!

I have always focused on the beauty and forgave the ugly in people.
I suppose it was a coping skill. How else would I have survived being abused as a child?
Or repeatedly raped? Attacked? Abandoned?
It was a handy coping skill to help me accept the horrors that have happened to me; but, it’s a faulty tool. You HAVE to acknowledge the bad, ugly and horrific. If you don’t, you end up in relationships with people who hurt you, let you down, mistreat you, or worse. 

I am so fucking sick of picking out the good in people and ignoring the bad! I want to see people for who and what they really are! Only then I can judge if they are healthy for me.

Thanks daddy for this lesson.
In finding my anger for you; I discover that I did NOT deserve to be abandoned. It wasn’t my fault. I don’t need your approval.
I am liberated.
I do NOT need to demean myself in my relationships with men just to feel worthy, or to keep them by my side.
I don’t need nor want negative attention.
Allowing grief and anger to come in helped me grow.

I am still angry with you; but, I also am grateful for the times you did show up.
When mom was sick, when she was dying, and at her service.
You were there. Real and feeling. Loving and supporting.
I love you for that.
I treasure the night of my brother’s surprise 40th birthday party, and you showed up. We were all a family for a brief moment in time.

I love you daddy for what you could do and did do, and it’s okay for me to be angry too.
I am sad. I am angry. I am grieving. I am letting go…

 

What Do We Do With Grief?

 

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Twelve years today,

your spirit whirled away,

far out of reach. 

It took all of these years

to move from the constant grief,

to face the fears

of a life with out you.

To see through the darkness 

that you held the light to.

In my heart the nostalgia sustains.

It’s the memories i keep 

that give me courage to face each day.

It’s been a treacherous journey just to get this far,

I wear proudly on my soul, the scar.

Today I feel that grief again,

like a dam trying to hold the flood

I tense up.

Afraid to feel,

my logic scrambles, how do we cope?

Throw yourself in homework,

paint, create!

Channel the grief for better.

For better my spirit screamed, now that’s just mean!

What do we do with grief?

We feel it,,we let the sorrow in, we honor the loss, we sit with that pain

because reality is, my life will never be the same.

Her smile, laughter and wisdom

are not in the flesh,

yes, she’s with me, but it’s not the same.

It’s not fair, my sadness weeps,

my daughter doesn’t have a grandmother

and its fucking sad, my grief bellows.

I let the flood take over me,

run through me, and fill me.

In the arms of my daughter

I set the tears free.

I am so blessed to have her, 

we are like you and me!

It is true, I have lost part of myself forever,

and it is also truth we are all together.

It’s okay to feel sad

my sorrow whispers.

It won’t consume

like it once had.

A cardinal appears

and I know you are near.

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This cardinal appeared a few hrs ago, right after I finished a good cry.

19429936_10212322039393646_8990911526266190717_n RIP my angel ❤