“Come Breakdown, break me wide open. Carve your name in the caverns of my heart. Rip off the blinders. Cut the shadow’s cord. I can’t take one more day of this pitch blackness. This sandpaper love has rubbed me raw. For God’s sake Breakdown! Come!”
I’ve had it. The pain has settled too deeply. Here I am, on the bathroom floor, the first wave of tears from a lifetime of wounds gushing out of me. My picture-perfect life is shattering before my eyes.
I rise, adjust my mask. I lean into my reflection in the tarnished mirror, trace the outline of my face with trembling fingers. I trace each curve, each feature. My hollow eyes stare back. Deadness. I tighten my brows, look deeply into my eyes. Maybe there’s something worth salvaging in this matted soul. Maybe God is in there somewhere. I close my eyes, gently. For a split second, I feel a sense of hope. And, then, the memories return.
After all, unattended wounds don’t always heal. Love-starved little girls don’t always grow up. Traumatized children detach from emotion, but the pain? It harbors. It seeps. It grazes in the heart pasture year after year.
I never thought claiming a stake in my authentic identity would be so hard.
“You’re dating a woman? We’re moving out of your house and in with Dad. We can’t live with you. You are crazy. How could you do this? How could you do this to our family?”
I’m speechless. Breathless. Moving out? No. Oh my God, NOOO! Nauseated and dizzy, I crumble to the floor, hard. The cool tiles meet my fragile frame. I draw my knees tightly to my chest. I moan. I heave.
I am broken.
It’s not supposed to turn out this way! I can’t be alone! I can’t be apart from my kids! I can’t live like this! Deep sobs convulse my body, I regress into a helpless, traumatized little girl, babbling, “I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!” until my throat is raw and my lips burn red.
Ironic how one moment can shift momentum. One rejection can trigger a lifetime of shame. One final crack and the mask shatters into a hundred fragments. All that’s left is me naked and vulnerable before a God who feels hard as stone.
Our masks. So concealing. So distracting, making it easier to move the frick on when inside you’re…dead.
But the soul.
Oh, the forgotten God-breathed soul and how it yearns for attention, calling out each day. The Divinity behind that soul, whispering..
Tend to me. Please. Just get quiet for a moment, I have so much to say. Slow down. Stop resisting. I need you. I want you. Please come back to me.
Everyone has a story; all stories involve pain. And though we run from that pain with all our might—it serves a purpose for the greater good of all – and God.
I left my husband for a woman. Yes, I thought I’d made my escape unscathed—until my teenagers and a host of others rejected me. The Church scorned me. My secure life ended. I lost my kids. I lost myself.
I lost my mind.
Everyone hides some pain. You know, the kind of pain that digs and digs and becomes so unbearable, you do whatever it takes to numb it. Me? When I hit my cracking point, I lost it emotionally, as every emotion I’d stuffed since childhood surfaced.
Insecurity. Unworthiness. Fear. Shame. It was too painful to face them. I needed an anesthetic! Something to kill the pain!
No, I didn’t reach for drugs or alcohol. I didn’t reach for God, assuming He was not interested. I didn’t reach for food. I reached for a person. A toxic relationship that made me feel love-drunk and insane at the same time.
Broken and ashamed, this kind of love rubbed my heart bloody raw.
Still, I longed for healing and wholeness. Soul recovery beckoned me. I knew deep down my soul longed for my Heavenly Father. So, I embraced my pain and used it as a springboard to embark on a new, inner spiritual journey. The journey led me inside, to face the pain and terror of being abandoned and alone. To face the darkness that towered over my family for centuries. To empty out, to die to “self”, so Someone Greater could take over.
I battled for my life. I cried. I meditated. I prayed. I got help. I took my power back and vowed never to give it away again, never again to use a person – or thing – to fill my void.
Screw the love drug.
Today I tell a new story. Today, I’m committed to the soul recovery journey, one moment at a time. I’m committed to following the path that Jesus has shown me, with compassion and love leading the way.
I’m no longer a love-starved, fearful little girl. I’m no longer afraid to be who I really am, wounds and all – who GOD created me to be! I am a powerful woman of God, sharing my story through the valley in the hopes that others will be inspired, wake up, and re-discover themselves and their God in a most amazing way.
My breakdown was hard as hell, but it was the springboard towards a beautiful spiritual transformation still in-the-making. God took me to the very depths of my darkness, where I wrestled with a whole lot of things, until He shined His light and lit my path to freedom! The thing is, He never left me and He’ll never leave you.
Today, life makes a whole lot more sense. I walk with my head held high because of Jesus! My children and I have a wonderful relationship. They’ve done quite a bit of growing themselves mind, body, soul. Today I have a wonderful partner and a healthy relationship.
It feels good. Life feels good.
What will you do when pain surfaces?
Listen, you’re going to encounter pain at some point. You’ll probably want to run from it. You’re going to want to reach toward things and people to numb it or find some temporary fix (like alcohol, drugs, lovers, money, power, food, gambling, etc.). You may feel depressed, highly anxious, dissatisfied, frustrated, hopeless. You may lack passion or purpose. Your faith may be nill. These are symptoms of a deeper issue.
Your soul…Your God…is calling you back. Back to the REAL you you’ve forgotten. Back to the God you’ve disconnected with. It’s time to remember. It’s time to WAKE UP and start navigating a new scene from a new perspective. From God’s perspective! With eyes that recognize His Kingdom within!
Need help? Reach out. I’m a phone call or email away.
It’s time to heal. Grow. Connect with your God.
It’s time to awaken and arise!