You, all powerful, all loving. You all say. Do you even hear me when I tell you that you have completely forgotten about me and a hand full of us here on planet illusion where we forget who we truly are. You have abandoned us. Remember that day I kneeled down next to my older brother at the age of 5 years and begged you to protect us from the physical and emotional tortures and isolation we both endured from our dad. Well maybe you where to busy for us and you never saw what really happened to us. The more we prayed the more dad’s agitation to be the only one in control of us and our lives became wild. In fact we got most of our hurt when we closed our little eyes put our hands together and interlocked our fingers. Our face towards the sky saying “please…. God please please help us defy and beat the demons that are making our dad the monster that he is. Protect us from his torturous mind and hands. Help him to be the same loving person our uncle and our haunt are. I was desperately looking for a role model who was not hurting and damaging everyone in his head like dad did and seeing this world as only a threat and a place for suffering but instead all I saw is men and women using everything they could find to hurt themselves and pass that on.

You walked away and left me in the hands of my clueless self, forced to look up and depend on a predator. Having to learn from a generation of kids who were raised by a traumatized society from the second world war. Those adult children who were blindly raised as they raged their parents’s unspoken ptsd until their bodies molded into one of an adult to become a dysfunctional parent themselves. Dad. And many others were not ready. He was not ready. Not ready to explore that invisible wound that felt like something was pinching the one nerve controlling his entire nervous system, giving him the worse pain he so badly wanted to push onto others around him. That pain he shared with everyone around him did not belong to him but he pitched it up and for some mysterious but dark reasons made it his, but never own up to that.

This person’ s life I was not welcome into who was my biological dad how could you have let this happen? Put two clueless being together and walk walk away. Himself never knew at the time that he was still an unlearned child, unprepared to be responsible emotionally and be the maturity the little girls I was deserved to have around. He was drowning his soar existence into a pool of hurt and made sure the closest to him would get a taste of that pain.

I am dark and heavy and so are the burdens I carry. I look around and see your children able to gently put down the cross of their fully unresolved past trauma and walk away. Left in a past that no longer exist for anyone else but me I am not capable of gently putting down the cross of my suffering. The cross of my deep unhealed wounds has become others’s reminder of the burden they desperately had to walk away from to keep up with our culture and society s expectations, That way I am also left behind with what they no longer wish to carry.

I hear them say, what is wrong with you? put it down and follow us. The cross is only a memory of your suffering that no longer has a meaning and you can choose to let this long gone memory burn and become ashes carried by the wind away from your mind. But the toxins from the burned ashes have become my shadow. So why does it still exist for me I yell! Why am I still in so much pain. Why all I see around are men exhausted to carry themselves in this invisible pain situated at a blind spot of their mind and bodies.

But why can’t they find it in themselves to turn their head a little more to the left and check those blind spots. Because a little to the right there is the part in them they love to see only. Your children have become obsessed with what they love to see in themselves and for that is how I can’t see the nails that are still attaching me to the cross. These invisible wounds that went a little deeper into my heart my knees need empathy instead of a fix. a compassionate hand to support me in cleaning an healing those.

You can choose to let this go they repeat and walk away. One of the nails pushed through my flesh while the gift of choice had be taken away from. Choice is one of the gift that was taken away from me at a young age. Choosing was forbidden. All choices where made by the adults around me who were dad or aligned with dad. Decisions was also one of the gift my grand parents had to return back home with when dad told them, “my kids don’t need birthday or Christmas Xmas gifts” just so to punish them.

Years after and I still believe that I decisions are not mine to make and choices are for me to have ….. I must be a monster. You just had enough of me like my brother his wife and the ppl I meet they don’t even look back where I am. They look forward where I am not. At time I run in front of them wave at them begging me to see me but they don’t see me.

Because I couldn’t do what it takes to surrender my life fully to your power. I don’t deserve the full membership that gives me access to be part in that ball room, the famous party where only light beings gets to be…..They have no idea.