You are safe

After The Creature was born I found myself often telling her “ You are safe. You are loved. You are brave.”I still say these words throughout our day. Today as I tried my hand at meditation a word popped in my mind in a loud way:

I AM SAFE…

I am in a stable and supportive marriage. My two intelligent girls are healthy. There is food in the kitchen (even tasty treats!). Lately, I have been finding my body turning against me and the stupid vortex of doom trying to suck me up. I wake up with stabbing stomach pains. I find myself crying for unknown reasons. Breaking down sobbing trying to explain to the kiddos I am just sad and I don’t know why. But really deep down in the pit of my being I know why. I have not processed much in my life. When something bad happens or someone takes advantage of me I blame myself. Or I let people who I believe are friends manipulate and use me.

Over the years I have been picking at this festering wound that I have been trying desperately to hide from. I poked the surface letting tiny bits ooze out. I quickly dab at the wound trying to do damage control but I picked too hard this time. The infection wants out and my true self wants to emerge. She’s been screaming for some time behind the curtain of this well crafted performance. I have been dancing in this orchestrated illusion for far too long. The spinning and bowing to be a person that I feel people want me to be.

I AM DONE.

As this wound weeps I am left with a cavern that still holds a lot of pain and loss. My job as an animal caregiver was the best job (besides being a mom) I have had. I thrived and felt a calling. As the years went by the demands placed upon me were too high. I started to make mistakes as my soul broke. I moved on to another animal shelter that focused on rescuing chickens. In every way possible that job on paper was ideal for me. A chance to go back to school all while caring for the chickens that I love so deeply. My supervisor for that job lived next-door to me; a small laundry area separated our spaces.

The environment soothed my wary heart in the foothills. I started to feel my spirit rising. As nature and the rhythm of life settled into my being; the typical pattern reemerged. My lack of boundaries and lack of self worth made me a target. It started with tucking in the animals at night for him. Before long I was once again working while vomiting even when I tried my best to say I can’t do this. Often times there was a documentary playing in the city that was more important to this person then helping me or the animals.

I left that job shortly after finding out I was pregnant with The Creature. My supervisor’s responses to my surprise pregnancy was an offer to drive me to the clinic if I needed “help”. From all our conversations we have had while working together I know he thought an abortion was the right thing for me, or really for everyone. Once again a non-profit left me feeling voiceless and lost. Tossing the dead chicken’s bodies into the old straw. Covering them with their own shit. No respect given to the dead. Him driving the truck on top of these composting corpses. The frantic de-clumping of the chickens – a job that required running back a forth between the different areas trying to make sure the chickens didn’t suffocate. The chickens we had to leave behind at an egg farm and watching live birds being tossed into a back of a trailer that was going to be used as a gas chamber. The volunteers faces are etched in my mind when this person told them put there cell phones away. Instead of chickens getting first taste of freedom bodies litter the trailer floor. Someone thought putting a large number of chickens into an open trailer was a good idea. These girls didn’t understand anything about space. To feel safe they tried to get close to each other. I had to sift through the bodies looking for survivors. I lost the passion I had for chickens with that job. I became more broken.

Here I stand very broken but I am safe.