*** Please note- this post is very raw. I wrote this as I was remembering***
I prayed to God that I would not forget
The times, the trials, and the life I thought I might regret
I prayed that the memories would stay raw
For others, whose pain, I saw
I was in Italy, a dream some may say
It felt like hell, my time there was only but one day
I walked around heart sheering in pain
I could hardly cope I wished my life done-my body in a grave lain
I believe I cursed at myself to not give up
Although, I had been told that there were demons inside of me
Which were speaking and someone told them to shut up
I was so confused not sure of who I was, or what to believe
“You’re a runner. You always run” I was told
Lost as to how to withstand the pressure, yet, scared to fold
I was determined to fight
But how and to whom am I supposed to hold tight?
Diseased is how I was portrayed
My wherewithal I knew was slowly being frayed
I kept silent, afraid to stir the pot
I began to anticipate my cheek being, by a hand, shot
There was so much tension
I wanted to die
There was so much condescension
No matter how hard I tried
I wished more than anything to be invisible
Since my presence brought such hostility
How could one person be so divisible
And me- I had become a person of debility
I could no longer survive
I was seen as needing more help than one could give
It felt like I was just a pawn to contrive
Although, I still apologized… it was (I was) too grievous to forgive
Betrayer, un-loyal, untrue
Were words I could hardly believe I heard
Wicked through and through
“I am beginning to give up hope” –so much for being reassured
Lost and alone
Not even knowing where to start – who to phone
Will they believe me ?
Even through they cannot see?
It seems implausible
I bought this lie for too long
Hope seemed impossible
I didn’t know where I belonged
We got out of Italy, thankful for a new member joining
I felt the pressure release a bit with a distraction
I felt the new member and I adjoining
Until, another seize of control and I was cut off like a knee-jerk reaction
The manipulation and control sent me into panic
Lack of appetite, and sometimes loss of bodily control
My mind fought so hard to keep me in check – if not I’d be called satanic
By the time I’d fled, the damage – already was done to my soul
I am grateful to know the pressure and fear
For now I know the meaning of so many tears
I taste the indescribable feeling of freedom
A tiny fraction of fellowship with whom they had to “bleed him”
He, my Jesus, held me when I crumbled
Stood firm when I was enraged
Helped me get back up when I stumbled
And when I had to pick up pieces- He was fully engaged
He allowed such pain for something so much greater
I didn’t see it at first, but I see it now
I must never forget, for of my story, He is the creator
For Him, I look ahead and keep my hands to the plow
Thank you for sharing these hard memories and for hanging on To Jesus in the pain.
Thanks for reading it and standing by me ❤