So many of us don’t get much to speak of as a chance at life until we are older. Raped with penetration by age five and following, traded for favors, fear and more fear, isolated, escaping from one to other places of objectification. We don’t like closets. We avoid reminders but since there is no place we don’t remember our traumas, we are, we know, not hidden well enough.
And then one day, Hope gets through the diseased surface of our primitive defense and delivers her message. The message comes again, as Hope is unchangingly drawn to us. Hope has been here before, but this time for what ever reason, it might be our age, finally seventeen or twenty-eight or fifty-four, it might be a nosey teacher or a fatal car crash involving one of our victimizers or our home is moved, but this time that Hope comes, we have the fortune of being pierced through.
When there are holes, Light can enter. When Light enters, Light takes chase to darkness and then, served on a moment-gilded-platter, we have it.
This may not be your story, but is for enough. Even one, right? Even one matters. Things really are that sick in more “homes,” represented by the normally garbed, disguised at school, work, church, stores and behind their computer screens. We are all invariably fooled. All of us respond to these disguises with what is available from our biopsychosocial-selves. We respond by naming them consciously and unconsciously with a name that serves the needs of our biopsychosocial-self. We could say that the disguises are designed both by them and us. It is what it is. We are all fools, this way by different degrees.
But back to those pierced by Hope. Being a friend to yourself may not occur to us for what seems forever along the line that Time determinably follows in our dimension. Being a friend to Me finds us now where light enters. Hope and Light can have their way on our damaged selves.
Hope ports to all new beginnings. The judgment of what makes living, through such distances, worth it is not for anyone but the individual and God. However our opinion, served from our biopsychosocial selves is that life is worth living even in the distance before Hope pierces us through. See Post, Your Pain is Not Special. It Is Normal., to read more on this.
We who have gotten friendly with Me, want Life despite the freakishly terrible. Either we are masochistic to continue through such horrors, to continue living, or it is true. What comes with hope, with being a Friend to Yourself, with Love, when experienced cannot be qualified or quantified other than to say, that Love wins.
Questions: Do you believe Love wins? If not, why? What do you say about being a friend to yourself to those who are in the midst of being victimized? Please tell us your story.
Self-Care Tip: Want Life despite the freakishly terrible. It’s true. It’s that worth it. Be a friend to yourself.
- Remember, You Are Free, Even When You Accept Help. (friendtoyourself.com)
- Premises of being a “Friend to Yourself” (friendtoyourself.com)
- When To See A Psychiatrist (friendtoyourself.com)
- Manifesto, by Sana Johnson-Quijada MD (friendtoyourself.com)
- Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (CFS) and Biopsychosocial Intervention Strategies (eitheory.com)
- No place for disablism in disability campaigning (thecreativecrip.com)
- Mental health issues prevelant among 18- to 24-year-olds (digitalbullpen.com)