A Call for Help: A Diary of A Survivor / Part I
How Do We Ask and Receive the Very Help We Most Long For
Yes, I think it was March 2021 that we first met. Goodness, seems very very long ago. The vibe is so different now. It was a special time. A challenging time in a different way but, also, a beautiful time, rich with camaraderie even within myself and with so many who came together to stand up for freedom, for truth, for our souls, our bodies, our sanity and the integrity of humanity, for all LIFE!
The war was full on evident though it still is. They've just given us a little seeming reprieve for most of the masses.
Thank you for your beautiful letter. I am very touched reading your words and feeling your thoughtfulness and presence. When I read your letter earlier today, little tears welled up. It's wild to step into a “yes” that I keep thinking I have already stepped into and, yet, know, too, so well, what I have denied myself. Writing you, asking for your assistance, is saying “yes” to myself. Saying “yes” to goodness and to caring about myself and to love, to caring from others. Those are big ones. So easy for me to care for everyone else. As I wrote before, too, that I can do it all by myself. And, all kinds of things underneath that one.
Maybe I will crack open a page of your book and let it be like a line or a paragraph and maybe it can help me to lead me into my own truth rather than what concerns me about taking on other's memories. Certainly hearing other's stories helps validate what we have denied so... though I don't have what you went through at all but something happened that effects me to this day, sadly, that I still have been unable to free myself from. I've tried. I have freed myself for a while and beautiful things unfurled in that state. But, then, through the decades, more traumas – new and the old – gnawed at me and I began to give up. And, I disconnected to some degree from the source of my being and tried to be fulfilled from this Earth. I wallowed in victimhood begging in my own mind for the love and savior who never comes because there is none other than the one within. No mother, no father nor anyone else ever came to rescue me. Not in the beginning of my life and, not later and not now. I knew what to do, but I somehow chose to give up instead.
Have you ever given up?
Boy, is it painful to abandon yourself, again and again.
That program to suffer is so strong. The program to not be free is strong.
I was getting free and "they" didn't want me to be free. And, I stopped freeing