The Purge

"The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting"- Sun Tzu...

Unable to sleep... Thoughts racing... heart pounding... Tonight was the night, my soul could no longer rest in this vicious game of tug of war. I thought it was from the words of our exchange earlier he never really seemed to understand that every heated face off chiseled away at me. For him it was win or lose for me it had everything to do with feelings of inadequacy. Every critique or complaint took me too a place I once buried away. However tonight there was no rest, in my head as Kelly Price belted out "There's a hole in my heart...My soul is bleeding... I need to free my mind... And see what I'm feeling" I was broken and nothing could be done to fix Me, but ME. And it began... Plagued with sordid memories and horrific tales. Forced to face the truth... My truth. I wish I was a rapper and could write a prophetic rhyme with a dope beat , but the only beat I could feel or hear was that of my heart racing. My palms are clammy and Kelly Price's Tired continuously plays on a loop in my head. I get up from where I lay with him and rock back and forth careful not to disturb him, even he can no longer help me with this. I think of brunch with my friend earlier and how we chatted about the very thing I needed to do. She was proud I was getting "help" finally, but little did she know I'd been getting this kind of "help" since I was 6. Finally I move from my husband's side and disappear to the most far away place in the house, because when the sobbing began I didn't want anyone saving me. I was mourning ME. The fear of facing my own self was debilitating. The load I was carrying could no longer be a crutch, no medicine could cure this, only the harshest detox could remove this... It was ME vs ME... What a war? I had been battling it for years but now it was time to duke it out. There was a life to be saved in this war and it was my own. The platoons had gathered and as I sat there shaking I began. I had to face my demons those that I had brought on myself and those inflicted on me by others before I could get any place in life. I laid there on the floor in a labor like position as if a new me would be conceived. I read on Carol Parker Walsh's blog evolveyourimage.me about 3 Resolutions to Make in 2015, positive self talk was one of them, but before one could get to the positive you had to go through the negative. I decided to dig deeper. Feeling abandoned in ways one couldn't imagine, sometimes feeling like the child no one wanted, having an unique upbringing full of dysfunctional love, running for my life some nights, ashamed of defilement, raped of my innocence, spoiled at a young age, self hatred pushed on me from the one whom carried and birthed me, Miss Piggy (she wasn't cute in sassy back then), rejection, feeling insecure and unsafe, awkward and out of place. Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs states this damaged foundation is where it began. It was like the root of evil, the seeds that were planted within me, bred so many things before I could even grasp them. More fortunate than most of the kids I grew up with. I went to private school, my family was looked at as affluent, I was well traveled, well versed and knew Shakespeare. A bit ambivalent I learned how to live outside of me. Proteus at age 6 and have been that way ever since. Although my infrastructure was a bit different from my peers I grew up with, the rules have proven to be a lot of the same. I was no different from them, an ideal shattered right before my eyes. As I played things out. Little black girls aren't safe in a house with men and boys, domestic violence was the way love went in the hood, drugs were the unspoken secret of us kids, snorting Pixie Sticks emulating that in which one of my comrades had seen and showed us. No this wasn't Losing Isaiah or Precious this was life. Some people will never talk about it, it's just the way it is, deeper than the code of streets, it was to protect ourselves and our family name. However the things you witness as a child and bury, those secrets fester and on nights like this, they refuse to go away. I feel something well up and seasoned tears begin to roll down my face I can taste the salt as they hit my mouth. I can't weep like I want to, like I needed to. I've detached from my baggage, so now what. I get up and go over to the mirror, purposely removing my clothes, naked I stare at myself. I looked through me as I began spewing some of the venom out loud that I had told myself and been told a lot of my life... As I looked over my nude body, the foul rhetoric began like vomit; fat bitch, trifling, lazy, ugly, not good enough, never going to make it, dirty, disgusting, stupid, weirdo, I hate you, misfit, nappy head, bulimic, whore, nobody's going to want you, look at that stomach (as I grabbed my rolls), pig, your just like your mother, you'll never be good enough. I looked over ever nip, tuck, and fold of flab. I remembered every scar, blemish, and bruise. I began to breath baited it was as if I was being suffocated by my own malevolence. I lay back on the floor, the cold begins to comfort my trembling corpse. I gaze in the ceiling feeling like I could hurl at any moment. Falling into a slumber I awake to my husband calling my name, I'm stripped, not only in the literal sense. I jump up and go about my day as usual, but I can't get last nights rite of passage out of my head. Yes rite of passage. So many demons came alive in me and they were riving silently at the core of my being. Fat shaming, body shame, sexually tainted, mentally muddled, self-hatred, eating disorders, psychological damage, bad relationship, even worse decisions and the list goes on. Methodically I continued on with my day, cooked dinner, went to my Monday mentoring session, hit the gym, all the while knowing that I would have to deal with this soon. Long gone were the days that these wounds were left open. It was an endless loop. These nights were becoming more frequent and the aftershocks were lasting a bit longer. It had become a dangerous game of torment. But after Monday came Tuesday, then Wednesday, Thursday and Friday... and the week was almost over. It was like some sort of sorcery had to be done to fix this. I had gone on for days barely sleeping and crying without cause. Too many times had I purged, but not cleansed. Then it happened almost a week till the day the Purge began, I was inclined to get on my knees, confess and pray. As I knelt there in that prostrate position it was as if the heaviness from heart was lifted. I didn't know what was ahead of me, but this I knew that in which was behind me had been killing me softly for years. If I had not mopped up this slop once and for all, along with those secrets I would've found myself 6ft under soon. Before I continue let me say this, my life hasn't been bad, horrid moments didn't equate to a horrible life. I've been blessed with wonderful people which is part of the reasons I've made it thus far. I've had awesome experiences, been too wonderful places and seen amazing things. I was actually very fortunate. However, the woman in the mirror could no longer go on rooting and uprooting the mess that had hindered me. Before I could pulverize the nexus of this all, it was time for me to face the mirror again. That same shiny reflector that for days at a time I'd avoided, for moments in time I'd covered up detested at what looked back at me. Finally after almost a week and a half since this all began, I walked over to the mirror in the center of my house and looked passed myself and let of a big "FUCK YOU"!!!!! I then looked at myself dead in the eyes with the passion, that same passion I looked at my husband with on our wedding day and said "I apologize. I've mistreated you. I love you and I promise to honor, respect, and care for you for the rest of my life." No this wasn't a kumbaya moment or some Tyler Perry movie, it stamped the first day of the rest of my life. No longer rigid, a gentle foundation where I can begin to build. I am no longer that shackled, rejected, mentally confused and tortured girl that looked in the mirror and despised everything that she saw. I'm a woman free and building a brand new me. We all must face that mirror one day, if your tormented by your past don't be afraid it's time to Purge as we walk into a new season in life. If you don't like what you see in the mirror it's time for self reflection and change. You can do it. I dare you to.

Please continue to follow me on this journey.

Love & Light
xoxo Jane