The biggest bitter space I’m left with is one I’m still chipping away at. It is the bile piled up from watching someone I love pour into other people’s visions and dreams but not giving any real support to mine–unless it might being quick money (or more money) to our household. And the insult of it is that I watched him pour into people who actively ignored and discounted me–the person who made it possible for him to bless them.
I cannot adequately describe the reservoir of agony in my belly that rises up and chokes my heart with pain. The rage of it sticks in my throat, and all that gets by are my tears–hot and salty, matching the burning hatred in my stomach. Instead of living waters, for years I have churned out acid that only ever ate away at me. My teeth have rotted in my mouth from me swallowing the words that I wouldn’t let pass my lips, my jaw grinding down what was left.
It is the last vestige of blockage to my flow. One that lies at the heart of my next steps. I keep telling myself, You are more than what you do. You are more than what you have done. You have received what you need to be fully you. You have what it takes to be who you want to be. There is no lack. You can and will do all things through Christ. You have everything you need. You ARE all that you need. God has already validated you. Validate yourself.
Some days, I actually believe myself. I walk in the certainty that God is with me and I cannot fail. And then there are days like this one when the broken places crest and I feel so unworthy and unsure and afraid. All it takes is to see these people flourishing, nourished by all the effort he gave to them while I stood there withering…and the bile trickles into my flow.
Not so much of it now though, you know, because before the old year ended, I named it. I said aloud to God–screamed at the universe what I had carried in my chest for years. And once you call a thing by name, you can fight it. You can’t really fix a problem you won’t own.
I have named my final grief. I fight it every day, the flood of my broken self worth now just a smallish trickle. I promised myself that I would never cultivate that pain again, that I would take steps to finish off the demon of rejection and worthlessness from who I am.
So I have been taking control of my thoughts, pushing myself to enact intentional attacks of love and gratitude for myself and my life. I have begun to release the anger through words and sounds, giving space to my soul to express what I have held in for so long. I have been dropping down into centering breath–wherever I am, whatever I’m doing, whoever I’m with.m, connecting all of the pieces of myself and reclaiming calm. I have been divesting myself of connections with those whose spirits are harmful to me. Some of that is physical space; much of it is mental and spiritual. I have boundaries now. And mostly importantly? My heart is open.
I am getting better at this healing business.