For the Anger and the Grief

It’s been two months since we moved. And in those two months, not only did I face the destabilization of loosing an old place of comfort and safety, I also dealt with significant relational issues, alongside the trying to reground my roots in a new place. Then add in all of the trauma rising up from the virus taking over the world right now, and it’s been a perfect storm of grief, anger, mourning, and fighting redefine my space. I’ve been left holding shreds of what I once thought was my in-person community.

I have lost community, the community of which was so healing to my womb and had answered the wailing call of its spirit. I not only lost it, it was ripped away with seemingly no regard to what it meant to me or how much I needed that space. These were the very people who share about holding space for others and yet they did not allow space for me in the entire situation. Seeing pictures of them gathering online because of the social distancing last New Moon further drove the knife into my heart.

Having been given no space for my side of the story, or even to ask questions, this matter has remained a knife in my heart and such weight on my shoulders at how I cannot resolve it when neither other person wants to resolve it. This anger is my bodyguard because I know how much grief it is holding back and protecting. The three of us all couldn’t be adults and resolve miscommunication or vague accusations that were flung around and honest sincere questions were ignored and also twisted.

I wrote the following a few weeks ago and wanted to share it here.

To the ones who decided I was too angry, too unkind. To the one who tried to Kill me and stuff me into her box. To the one who got annoyed and angry that I had opinions that didn’t line up with her own. To the one who forced and reinforced her narrative. To the one who did not Listen, to the one who TOLD me how I felt. To the one who passed on the vague accusations and then threw them in my face. To you both, you two who ripped from me community and beat me down without a voice.

I ask why. Why did you decide it was me who was going to receive the lashes of your trauma? Why did you decide it was me who would bear the full weight of the responsibilities and consequences? Why did you put words in my mouth that I never said? Why did you blame me for the very things you were feeling? Why was there never any space for me? For my valid emotions? For my valid reactions? Why did you use my very words against me and my own beliefs and how much I hold space for trauma? You both knew the exact right words to use against me, you both backed me and tied me up into a corner I couldn’t break out of without breaking my own word.

My heart is breaking, it is broken, and it broke even more watching the community I needed and was so blessed from gather last night without me. I am not welcome there anymore, you both made that clear. I was created to be the monster, the one you told me you were afraid of. But all that showed me was how much you are afraid of yourselves. You are afraid of the shadows my very being brought to the surface and I became the one to blame.

I want to lash out, I want to make both of you pay for how much you both broke me. I want to show you what real anger looks like, not the thing you accused me of. I want to use the things you both shared with me in confidence against you like you did to me.

But I won’t. Even as my heart is broken, and my soul is wailing, I will respect and hold in silence the things you both shared and allowed for me to see. I will not disrespect the trust you gave to me, but nor will I allow either of you to hold my trust ever again. Do you even see what you have done? Do you even have any idea what you did and how much damage you caused? For two people who talk about holding space for others, you neither held space for me. You did not hold space for me, you silenced me, you gaslit me, you shut me down and projected on to me, and made sure I couldn’t say anything.

I hope you both know and understand the full weight of what you’ve done. I hope the pain that I feel hits you both like a wall of bricks. I hope you realize that this is not how you respect or hold friendship and community and circle. I better understand why one of you have never and will never have close female friendships. You push away anyone who has SEEN you because they become a threat in your eyes. And then you break them and destroy any friendship there was before they can hurt you first. What I don’t understand is how you, number two, followed. Are you so unsure of your own truth that you just follow the one you believe the most and are unable to stand unbiased? I have seen how you just vomit words when you’re upset, and I would hope that what you did to me was that and you will be able to see what you’ve done. And how dare you tell me you offered to help, and when I went to you asking for that help, you threw it in my face like a despicable piece of garbage. You never even gave me a chance to explain that I was asking for the help you had offered. Shame on you, so much shame be poured on you for reneging and then throwing it back in my face. At the very least, you both could have given me the space to share my perspective. I held the uncomfortable space for yours, but I received no such equal treatment.

I am angry because it is protecting my deep grief. I am so broken because of how much you both ripped from me. I am disappointed because you decided the outcome before I had even said anything. I am disappointed and saddened and grieved that you both chose to listen to your trauma and react out of trauma instead of being able to step outside of the emotions to find a middle ground. I won’t be coming back from this. I won’t be reaching back out to either of you unless you both do some serious work and understand how damaging this all was.

It is deeply painful to have had these words pour out of me. It is barely touching the depths to which my heart broke. And, I’m sure if either of those two read this, they will continue to paint me as the villain. My own words were used against me. I was told “I just can’t seem to say the right thing” in response to my valid and confused questions trying to figure out what was going on. I took responsibility for anything and everything I said or did knowingly that caused harm. But even that wasn’t enough. I was shamed for my triggers, I was called too harsh, angry, and unkind. All vague accusations that when asked, I never got any answer about what I had really done. I sought to learn, and grow, I wanted to repair these friendships that I had held so dear. I wanted to learn what I had done wrong so I could correct it and make reparations if need be.

But that was not to be.

This whole situation has made me skittish about anyone else who I have met in person and have held space with in this physical area I live in. It is not the first time narcissistic behaviors of people I thought were friends have brought me down like this. In fact, this is now the third time I have had these same vague accusations told to me and then when asked, no one can back them up and actually tell me what I’ve done. So yes, it makes me very cautious and distrusting of anyone who calls me friend. There have been countless moments of me sobbing to my spouse and asking what did I do? What has happened? I sought counsel from those I deeply trust and who have proven their safety to me, I did not lie or cover up anything I had said or done. I asked them over and over “do you see anything I’m doing or saying that would line up with what they are accusing me of? Am I doing something wrong?” I sought wisdom and counsel because the very things I was accused of are my worst fears when it comes to being someone’s friend. And somehow they knew the exact things to hit me hardest with. They knew the right words to say, the right things to accuse that would harm me the most. My own vulnerability was taken and then weaponized against me.

Recovering from this is going to take a long time. Especially knowing how close I live to both. And by the way, should either of you read this and want to talk, you need to be the one to reach out. I am not putting myself into harms way again.

I am angry because of how deep the grief runs. I am angry because of the unfairness of the entire situation and how I got shut down before I could even say anything. My power is in words, my ability to use words and use them accurately and vulnerably. When my words are taken away or twisted against me, I am trapped, and the voice I have fought so hard to have has been silenced. I will never not speak out against that. I will never stop fighting to regain my voice.

When My Younger Selves Are The Loudest Voices In My Head

It’s been a while since I’ve sat down to type on this screen. Life has been chaotic, to put it lightly, and since a few days before our move a week and a half ago, I have been one fucked up triggered mess.

So we just moved – from one side of Denver to the other. We moved from a place we’ve lived in for the past 5 years and have had so many horrific and amazing things happen there. I had 5 surgeries while we lived in that place. I brought my youngest into this world and all the complications his birth brought. I faced two (2!!!) rounds of trauma memories returning and restored one of my shattered younger selves to my broken soul. I discovered my true self there, and we built it into a home that was so safe, and stable. It is not insignificant the worth of that space, and the safety and security and stability I felt there. To say that I have been preparing since December for this move, is an understatement. However I was only barely prepared for what uprooting everything there and moving here was going to cost me.

I have felt so much shame and guilt the past few days. Shame of my younger selves freaking out and my current adult self acting out their panic and insecurity and fear. Despite the depth of work I’ve doing for almost a decade, specifically the last 2 1/2 years, this kind of disruption to a safe space and NOT having a new space readily available, I have been deeply spiraling. I have wanted to lash out, the fear and panic has been palpable in my mouth and at the back of my throat. I’ve been dangerously near to major panic/anxiety attacks, closer than I’d even like to admit. I can still feeling the rising bile in the back of throat as panic closes in. Even though right now, it is a quieter whisper and my younger selves are starting to believe me that we are safe and protected and okay.

The shame of spiraling so badly after being stable [mostly] for so long is deeply rooted within me. I was sobbing into the phone with a friend yesterday that I can’t figure out if this is just triggers or if there is something wrong with me and I really screwed things up. It feels shameful for the C-PTSD and strong enough triggers to suddenly take over so that I am no longer in control. Feelings of abandonment, feelings of not having a safe space and being desperately on guard and just waiting for that really bad things to happen. It’s exhausting and nauseating to be so heavily on guard and flinching and wincing at every weird look or “off” tone of voice. I’ve been in traumatized younger child mode, fawning with almost everyone, just trying to watch my back and be on guard 24/7.

Throughout this big transition, I have not been in trauma informed spaces, so trying to explain why I’m suddenly losing it hasn’t been an option. I have found myself over-explaining and then trying to stop talking and knowing that it’s over-explain or start sobbing. Talking nonstop seems like the better option then.

I feel ashamed of myself for not being able to stop this downward spiral, but my higher self and trauma informed self is trying to assure me this is the nasty effects of trauma and the horrific depths of abuse that I experienced. I hate that I have no control over it, I hate that there are so many layers to uncover and release and heal. It is not a one-off and wham bam thank you ma’am, we’re good. It’s a constant work in progress, it’s a constant battle to try to manage triggers so that they don’t slam me in the face so badly, despite having worked to prepare for them.

I have felt like I am only my trauma lately. Especially as I’ve been getting introduced to and introducing myself to new teachers and people we’re going to have in my family’s life in this new area. Trying to navigate new schools for both of my children, the new area, the new stores, and new driving routes is no small feat; adding in the loudly screaming and panicking trauma? It’s been no wonder I’ve been developing migraines most evenings, and falling asleep almost instantly at night because of severe nauseating exhaustion (which is RARE).

Small talk has been almost impossible. Mostly due to the fact that my younger selves have been so loud and scared and it’s their voices that are the loudest. So trying to talk to those new people we’re meeting? Again, it’s the over-explaining, the helplessly sharing irrelevant information, and I feel like I’m making a fool of myself. I have felt so unseen. I have felt so panicked and unsafe and have been desperately trying to find my own little space where I am safe and protected. I stayed up to almost 11pm the day we moved in here, desperately trying to unpack enough that I wouldn’t feel so utterly uprooted, trying to get ahead of the voices starting to build in my head. Here I am a week an half later, and I was most definitely NOT successful. I have worked my fingers raw hanging pictures, unpacking boxes, getting cardboard paper cuts (yes, these are possible and they HURT) just trying to stay ahead of the tsunami of triggers I watched head my way. It wasn’t enough and I lost that battle.

I finally feel like I have my head above water and my voice isn’t quite as muted anymore. I felt like I was a ghost in a room full of laughing and happy people and no one could hear me or see me. No matter how much I sobbed and yelled and begged, no one saw or heard me. Just imagine that kind of panic. The trauma of having been unseen and neglected and abandoned as a young child is some of the hardest I’ve had to process and work through. And I am still doing that work; it is such a deeply layered process and I know there are more layers to go.

I’m still processing what came up and was the loudest this spiraling round. I need to figure out how I approach the immense sense of abandonment I felt. The abandonment and panic of not being seen was so devastatingly loud I am still sickeningly reeling from it hitting me.

I sat through another 10ish hours of classes last night and today and the sense of being unseen and unsafe was so loud I almost had to get up and leave. I wanted to go home, but as my spouse put it, we haven’t attached to this house yet. We’ll get there, but right now it’s a weird limbo, made worse by the triggers and loud trauma.

So I guess with all of this, I am trying to face and acknowledge the toxic shame that’s making me want to hide and withdraw from everyone right now. I’m looking the excruciatingly vast panic and abandonment in the face and shuddering at having to go into it again and process it out. But I will do the work. That’s what I do; I face the shadows and I bring them light and balance. I am a shadow worker.

Here We Go – The End of the Darkness, Return of the Light – The Winter Solstice

Words have not been a release lately. Not like usual. There has been a lot of inward and hidden processing going on, and I haven’t felt words just waiting to be poured out. I have stopped working on my book, well I stopped about two months ago, and have yet to pick it back up.

Words are not the safe space I’ve previously known for working out and processing the shit within me. This is a new space for me to be in. It doesn’t feel familiar and sitting down to write this today is the first time in months I’ve felt words waiting to flow out through my fingers.

A lot has happened, but I also am not entirely sure what exactly has happened. Today I feel so deeply the final descent into the darkness as we approach the Winter Solstice in a week and a half. I spent the entire month of November buried under my own illnesses and those of my children. I believe the final count of drs visits and ER visits ended up with 5 drs visits and 4 ER visits. It nearly broke me seeing my children so sick and feeling so helpless to “fix” them. We were hit so hard with viruses that I felt like we were all drowning under them.

My mother wound was ripped open during that time. My younger selves felt fear and abandonment, crying loudly as I struggled to take care of my own children and then myself. They have been loud and continued to be loud until I started realizing it was them who was causing the extreme physical anxiety I have been feeling and the immense sense of loss that has been utterly overwhelming.

I can feel this sense of being in a space of waiting. “Just wait, it’s almost time” keeps swirling around me. Just wait, it is almost time. This waiting is being surrounded by the last of the weight of this year settling on my shoulders. I can feel how much my younger selves and current self is tensing up for January. I am deeply hoping to not repeat the past 4 January’s health emergencies.

January of 2019 saw me heading in to an emergency CAT scan on January 31st (my youngest’s birthday) with the whispers of cancer surrounding me. April 2019 saw me heading into my 6th surgery in less than 4 years. It was also the most helpful and most significant surgery. It also revealed that what I had suspected about my body was true. My body was in serious near fatal shape and with the help of the specialist I saw, I am no longer at the risk of having a single blood clot ending my life. The summer was full of self discoveries and at the end of the summer, I came face to face with the teacher I’ve been looking and longing for. The teacher at whose feet I will be sitting at and learning from for 9 months come January 2020.

My body feels wrecked. It feels worn out, and I feel an exhaustion that reaches to my soul and makes it difficult to breathe. I feel like the things within me that no longer serve are dying off and it’s a painful process. It is an isolating process. Especially as I am finding words are not my friends right now. My partner reminded me last night about just how significantly improved my health has become since a year ago. Even though I don’t feel it. It’s so hard to see progress when I’ve been in this chronic battle for so long. The past week has been particularly difficult with having some massive hormone crashes and trying desperately to ward off a panic attack. I remember so vividly how utterly sick I felt a year ago. I don’t want to go down that path again, I don’t want to feel like my body is dying.

A year ago this month, I chose my words of the year for 2019. My word for 2018 was Reckoning, and whoa was it a year of reckoning. When I faced 2019 and considered what it was that I was bringing into the year, the words *Dancing* and *Triumphant* came roaring in to me. As usual with the words I choose, those two were almost thorns in my side as I traveled down the path of 2019. But the pure beauty of holding those two words with me is the realization of how deeply and wholly I found myself laughing with joy and feeling truly happy with who I am and what I’ve become. For the first time in my remembered life, I have been able to truly feel happy and laugh with joy this year. It makes me teary eyed just thinking about how that feels in my bones. It is a certain kind of healing where words tend to fail.

The word *Jubilant* came to me a few months ago and I wrote it down feeling fairly confident it would be my word for 2020. I felt like maybe it was a good segue from *Dancing & Triumphant.* But things have shifted. I have been preparing for this transit into the new decade for the past three months in particular. Since just before Samhain, I felt the deep pull to “just wait, it’s almost time.” And as friends have started talking about picking their words for 2020, it became clear quite quickly that Jubilant was most definitely not my word.

As I’ve turned my gaze back on 2019, the heart wrenching despair I felt at the beginning of the year stood out, as well as the sobbing relief it transitioned in to after my birthday in April, and then the moments of actual pure joy and happiness made me just want to experience that more. I faced a second round of childhood sexual abuse memories coming back in August, and I am still here and feel more whole than I ever have. I have a burning in my spirit to fight even harder and with more precise purpose for those who do not have a voice. I feel that anticipatory burning of “just wait, it’s almost time.” My soul, my body, my heart is on fire and ready to explode with a dragon’s roar. Despite the heaviness; despite the tears and loudness of my younger selves fears and anxiety. I am waiting and it is almost time.

I am waiting yes, but I am also preparing – physically and spiritually. We already have several massive changes and shifts lined up for this next year. And they are going to be big changes, changes that will probably threaten the peace for a bit until we get settled. But I am actually hopeful. I feel hope and expectation of being blessed and having my awareness being expanded of what it means to feel joy and happiness. I want that, and I want to claim those beautiful things for myself, my children, my spouse, and chosen family.

So as I’m sitting here writing out this post, my two words for 2020 have burst upon me like a thunderclap.

* Burning Hope *

For someone who struggles with hoping for fear of things going wrong, this feels like an detonation in my heart. I am choosing to lay aside my fears and the fears that were confirmed as a child, and I am choosing hope. I am choosing to face the future with anticipation and excitement as I wait to see what Fate brings me. I am choosing to believe that I can do this, I can keep healing from the trauma wounds and abuse scars of my past. I am choosing to believe my younger selves and to give them all the gentleness and love we never received as a child. I am giving them the hope that as ripped so viciously from us.

I have no plan for when my next writing offering will be. I am allowing things to shift and move around me, and as this space isn’t providing much room for written releases, I am not turning to this space as much right now. But that being said, thank you for reading and following along when I do write!

Here’s to a brilliant, bold, and explosive shift into the new decade! It’s going to be an absolutely powerful shift!

Releasing Magick – Samhain

Here in Colorado, we just got a second snowstorm in October. We only got a few inches but every tree and bush was covered in whiteness. As I drove my oldest to school this morning, surrounded by the whiteness and the cleanness of the snow, I felt a peace settle in my spirit.

I have felt so chaotic for the past few months. I had a little bit of a breather in June, but then it all went to shit again as we shifted in to July and it’s been nonstop since August. As we approach Samhain in just a week, I can feel the spirits stirring around me. October holds a lot of pain for me, but it also holds a lot of hope and goodness. It’s a strange push and pull, happiness and sadness, joy and pain.

I’m leaning in to the peace that Samhain is starting to shift for me. And I’m grateful for that shift. I still feel unresolved on some things, but I know it is merely this moment is not a moving forward moment, it is a time of holding and waiting. As I spoke with a friend about this, it’s that feeling of taking a breath before a dive, but it isn’t time yet to dive into the water. That intake of breath, but not time to release yet.

Samhain is called the Witches’ New Year. It is the beginning of a new cycle around the Wheel of the Year. It is another fire celebration and it is the end of the harvest festivals. For those who are still new to the Wheel of the Year, Samhain (pronounced Sow-in) is also known as Halloween. It is also considered one of the Sabbats of the year when the veil is thinnest, Beltane being the second.

That being said, Samhain is the preferred time to specifically honor ancestors, it is time to save and hold space for those who have passed on before and who are ready and willing to give guidance when asked. Samhain is the time to officially put away the last strands of summer and open your arms to the coming darkness of the winter.

With winter already starting to encroach on Colorado, it’s easy to shift into the “winter is coming, the darkness is here” mode. But for everyone else, enjoy the fall leaves, recognize the cycle of life as the trees shed their leaves so they can hibernate for the cold and dark winter. It is time to release and shed anything (and anyone) who is no longer serving you. Whether that be energies that are insisting on dragging you down, or old habits or harmful mindsets you need to break, now is the time to prepare to do that. The most powerful time will be on the 31st as the darkness of night falls.

How to do this? How do you shed and release?

Well, here are a few ideas.

Tarot –

If you are not sure what you need to release or shed, laying out a tarot spread can help you gain clarity and name what needs to be let go of.

This is a helpful tarot spread to get you started with!

Candle/Fire magick –

As we shift towards the darkness of winter and the physical darkness of the shorter days, longer nights, lighting candles is a good way to still hold space for light and breath in your space.

Performing a candle releasing spell would be an easy way to release those heavy things that need to go. As Samhain will be on a wa

Items you need for candle releasing spell:

  • Candle – white
  • piece of paper that will burn easily
  • black ink pen
  • pot or plate to catch the ash of the burning paper or the paper can be burned in

Instructions:

Write down all of the things you’d like to release. These can be anything you feel is not serving you.

Light the candle and recite these words as you light the paper with the candle flame.

“With the burning of this paper I now release what does not serve me. Through releasing this, I am asking in the things that do help me. I now forgive and release everything and everyone from past and present who needs forgiveness and release. I ask for the universe to witness this release. So Mote It Be.”

Sit with the ashes of the paper and allow the candle to burn all the way down. Witness and hold space for this releasing.

Burning Bowl Ritual –

This is an alternative to the candle spell above. Take a few pieces of paper (or however many you need) and write down something you are releasing on each piece of paper. Roll or crumple up the pieces of paper and put them in a fire safe container. You can use the same releasing recitation above for this spell as you light the papers and allow them to burn to ash.

With both of the spells/rituals above, take the ashes from the paper that was burned and either bury them in your backyard far from your house, or flush the ashes down the toilet. Either way, make sure you complete and finish the spellwork.

Moving on to honoring ancestors, there are several ways you can do this.

  1. Tarot reading
  2. Dumb supper
  3. Ancestor altar

I feel like there are so many ancestor tarot spreads out there, I’m not even going to link to one. Use Pinterest or Instagram, or create your own spread! Let your cards and ancestors guide your hands.

With the Dumb Supper, as I have never done this, here are a few links for how to go about creating one. I will say that this can simply be done by setting a place for an ancestor at your table.

Links for Dumb Supper ideas –

https://witchoflupinehollow.com/2018/10/21/honoring-your-ancestry-with-a-samhain-dumb-supper/

https://moodymoons.com/2018/10/21/dumb-supper-what-it-is-how-to-host-one/

Ancestor Altar –

This is fairly straight forward. Creating altar space in your home simply means having a specific spot on a shelf or table that holds respect and honor for whatever the altar. For an ancestor altar, this could look like pictures of your ancestors, items or food they liked or were common from wherever they are from (if you want to go back that far). Whatever you feel is honoring and respecting your ancestors, do that.

I have not done a whole lot of work with deities that are connected to Samhain. I know Persephone is connected, as is Cernunnos. But I still need to do some more research about the deities and their connection before I feel confident writing about it.

I am personally very excited about Samhain this year. I am actually really dressing up for the first time and I cannot wait to show off my costume! I think it is probably going to be way overboard, but I am not sure I care at this point. My spouse and I are attending a witchy halloween party tomorrow and despite the cold right now, I am very much looking forward to it!

Bringing it on HOME – random updates and interaction with the Divine Masculine

Samhain is 13 days away. We are officially shifted into the darkness. I am feeling a little more present in my own mind and body this week than I did for all of August, September, and the first half of October.

Just after the last new moon at the beginning of the month, I joined in blood magick with a moon sister and we held protection over the Red Tent circle. That night as I fell asleep, I was suddenly aware of something trying to break through my defenses. There was a malicious intent and with how exhausted I was, I knew I didn’t have the defenses in place to protect myself.

In stepped in two beings I never would have expected to come to my aid – a roaring fierce Griffin (yes, the eagle headed lion) and Horus, the Egyptian God of War and the Sky. I have purposefully NOT worked with any Gods due to how badly I have been hurt and ripped to shreds by the masculine.

But as I wrestled in my mind to stay ahead of whatever was trying to destroy me, I watched as Horus and the Griffin posted themselves in protection for me. In fact Horus was so respectful and honoring to me and told me that however I needed help, he was there to give me aid. I was blown away and given much relief watching these two beings come to my aid and fight for me. I have felt nothing but great respect from Horus and his desire is to be an aid in whatever way I need. I am cautious because I am still not actively seeking Gods to interact with, but this moment with Horus is shifting my mind.

I have started three different posts in the past two months. Trying to find words for what is the chaos inside of me. The chaos has had a drive, it’s been breaking me from the inside out; breaking down misconceptions, breaking down the lies I still carry burned into my bones.

I have fought, and won, through another round of memories returning. I have sat with the youngest of myself and listened and felt what she had to give me. I have sat with siblings whom I never thought I’d ever seen in person again. I have spent time with my powerful moon sisters and performed protective blood magick together with one. I faced an intense wave of suicidal ideation – the darkest things have gotten for me in 5 years. I sat with another star-sister and we strengthened our companionship through using our words and backing up those words with our actions.

I have fought the darkness that is disassociation and am still struggling to gain ground with that one. It is a sly beast that cannot be pinned down. I have sat with having my fears confirmed and feeling the gut wrenching heartbreak knowing that the pain and horror I had felt years ago was true.

I am feeling very inward turned right now. Contemplating all that has happened this year. Remembering those who have been cut out of my life, remembering those I have stood up to. Thinking about what it means to be counting down to the end of the year and then the beginning of a new decade. 2020 feels like it will be an intensely powerful and significant year. There is a lot of work I, and many others, are doing right now to prepare for what this next year is going to bring.

I am excited to be starting two classes in January where I will be sitting at the feet of a Druidess elder and learning from her. I am excited about choosing a new place to lay our heads and moving there in February. There is a lot of change coming, and it is change that I am choosing to bring in.

My heart rate jumps a bit thinking about January because I’d really really like to have a January where I’m not fighting for my health. But I am choosing to believe that I am stronger and more prepared and can handle whatever comes my/our way.

I don’t have much else to say, I’m going into mental hibernation for the next few months. But I am still here. I am still fighting. And I will not stop until all of the battles have been won.

With the Power of The Morrigan – Curses and Disassociation

As I’ve sat with these returning memories and uncovering more injustices my younger selves experienced, the more anger I’ve felt, the more pain and soul anguish that has run through my body. Feeling my younger selves’ emotions was overwhelming. Especially as I felt those things for the first time. I never had the choice to feel anything other than fear, pain, and bursts of anger when I was child. It wasn’t safe enough to feel anything other than that.

A week ago, I sat with the pain of feeling so small, and yet, I wasn’t small enough. He, the shadow man, could still get me. That feeling of smallness was so overwhelming, my words stopped working, my mind was shutting down. I came face to face with that desire to just end it all and have some peace. My heart was aching, my lungs felt like they were collapsing, and I couldn’t stop the tears as they ran down my face. I was disassociating as I tried to figure out which younger or current self’s emotions were overwhelming me in that moment.

It was so layered and discordant, I felt so lost and unsure of who I actually am. I knew part of it was I had finally given myself space, my younger selves’ the safe space, to feel and exist. I was validating and affirming my very whole existence. And it hurt. It was hard. It was heartbreaking.

In a brief moment of reprieve from the chaos in my mind, I began to put pieces together of how I was going to fight for myself, and give myself further protection and validation of my story. I had had an idea that slowly started about a week and a half ago. There had to be a way to release all of the guilt, shame, pain, and harm my parents had done and given to me. I wasn’t looking for an end-all, cure-all, but something to officially “return to sender.” A dear friend offered assistance as I am not well versed in spells yet.

As I worked with them to make sure I had all the details I needed, I found out that things were already “returning to sender” in my abusers’ lives.

Now, let’s just be clear, so there is no confusion here. I am not Wiccan, I just prescribe to a Rede or standard of what spells I can or can’t do. What I prepared to do, and then completed this past Friday on the 13th as the full moon came in, was a curse. It was detailed in releasing and returning every bit of harm my abusers/parents did to me or put on me through years of trauma and abuse. It was physically cursing them with everything they’ve done to me. It was giving Karma an exact road map of what to return to them.

I have never been a place before where I was willing to stand up and fight for and defend my younger selves. My parents have continued to control me even though I live 2000 miles away. And it’s time for that to end. So my friend gave me the groundwork, and I set to work writing down the actual spell.

I did feel a tad guilty that what I would be doing would most likely cause harm to my parents/abusers. But I realized something very important. This is what a parent does for a child who has been hurt. They defend and use grown up words to get justice for their child. They use their words to protect and set up boundaries. I never had that. The ones who were supposed to protect me, to defend me. Casting this curse is how I am protecting and defending my younger selves and returning every bit of harm caused to us by our abusers. This will bring them harm, but harm in terms of what they have done to me.

A dear friend came in to town and was able to be there on Friday evening as I cast the curse.

By the power of The Morrigan,
Macha, Badb, and Anu, 
I curse thee, ___________________________ and ___________________________, that pain and misery will come to pass upon you. 
May the pain of knowing you’re not wanted break your minds. 
May your bodies feel forever uneasy and anxious
May your belongings break and shatter
May material work be forever out of your grasp
May you be scorned and lied about
May your secrets be revealed 
May your nights be filled with never ending terrors
May you always feel unsafe in the light of day. 
May your remaining children call you cursed. 
May your friends turn their backs on you
May your deepest fears and nightmares come true
May the knowledge of what you have done haunt you day and night. 
May the guilt eat you alive
May the shame burn your body. 
May you always know it is your fault. 
I return every ounce of harm you have caused to me, 
Body, mind, spirit, and heart. 
I return every iota of pain you have caused to me, 
Body, mind, spirit, and heart. 
I return every physical ache, pain, spasm that you have caused to me, 
Body, mind, spirit, and heart. 
I return every overwhelming moment of shame of being touched without consent, 
With the power of The Morrigan, 
May all this come to pass, 
May you be damned forever and always. 


I will not be sharing the details of all of the prep work I did for this spell work, or the various materials I used. This is the written/spoken part of the spell, but it is only words outside of the actual spell work.

The very second I placed my pen to paper, a banshee’s cry rang loud outside of my open back door. I felt the beginnings of the death throes of what I have carried for so long. As I waited for the candle to burn down at the end of the spell, another malicious spirit showed up outside one of my windows, determined to break in and stop me. I am grateful for how strong my protection boundaries are, but I still felt a massive sense of dread. It was a “I’m going to get you” kind of dread, not a dread based out of fear I wasn’t doing the right thing.

As I watched the spell burn and be completed, I felt a sense of weary accomplishment. The spell took a lot out of me, and I know it’s only the beginning. Yes, the spell was immensely successful, I know this through how well the spell completed, and with how so many spirits have been trying to get to me and aren’t happy that they can no longer leach off of me. But now I have continue this healing work.

And the next step is facing the disassociation and cleansing and restoring boundaries and energy protection. I’m realizing just how far I’ve come in the past few years, but also how much further I need to go.

I was sexually abused from the ages of (roughly) 1 1/2 to 4 1/2, then was verbally and emotionally abused until I cut my mother off 4 years ago. Disassociation was the only way I survived. I would, and still do, retreat into my mind and forcefully ignore whatever was going on my body or my direct surroundings. I start lashing out with frustration and anger because I got stuck in my mind somewhere and suddenly broke out of that and panic because I don’t feel safe because I checked out and do not know what is going on or where I am.

Heck, I’m even disassociating while writing this. I know that it’s a lot of this has increased recently because of the second round of memories coming back in the past month. So I’m going to wrap this post up. I need to let my body and spirit rest more, I have another long road ahead of me.

Resilience – Restoring

Content Warning: childhood sexual abuse, rape, incest, drugging. 

I am the survivor of childhood sexual abuse, starting roughly around the age of 1.5 and going to sometime before my 5th birthday. I discovered physical proof backing up my memories a few days ago. That shook me in ways I didn’t anticipate. I have learned to honor and respect the things my younger selves have finally felt safe to give me. But to have physical proof makes things a lot more concrete than just trusting your own mind memories and body memories.

It’s sometimes odd how fate decides to bring things about. I have multiple fellow survivors as close friends now. We are all in varying places in our journeys, we are all on different planes of the kind of healing required of these wounds. But do you know what brings us together even more than anything else? The fact that we hold space for each other’s stories and can validate that none of us are crazy for what we feel or remember.

I have shifted back and forth between an utterly overwhelming deep sadness at feeling my littlest self’s smallness and her massive disassociation at such a young age and anger that knows no bounds at the fucking bastard who did this to me. I can also trace back the spirit beings who continued to surround me every single step of the way. I see how they protected me from my soul being so shattered and splintered that I no long could hold on to myself. Just barely though.

I suppose there’s a question of why I am not cynical against those beings for not keeping my dad from sexually abusing me. I am not even sure how to react to that. While I firmly believe everything that has happened in my life has had a purpose, I don’t believe any deity should have come in and put a stop to the abuse. I had to go through that to become who I am today. But not because of what was done to me, but because of how my soul has fought continually to remove the filth put on me and restore it’s wholeness.

I am who I am today because I kept pushing on, I kept saying I’m not done yet. I am pushing to keep healing and fighting against the waves that constantly threaten to drown me. I’m fighting to heal and end this cycle because of those around me who do not have their voice. I am fighting to reclaim my power and my voice so I can speak up for them.

I have been sitting with the memories that have come back this week. I won’t be publicly sharing them as they are too graphic and too dark. They are the things I will share with fellow survivors to let them know they are not alone in their own darkness. I will be using my powers as a witch to make sure that I am removing and returning all of the negative energy and soul sucking yuck threefold.

I am not angry at my father for what he did to me. I am angry that my youngest self was treated so horrifically by my mother. My father? He is already reaping the consequences of what he did to me and my other siblings. So is my mother. I am more sad at the amount of disassociating I had to do to merely survive.

I’m working hard to rebuild and reclaim. Even though I know it is not possible to regain the childhood I never got to have, it is possible for me to make sure my own children get the fullest childhood to the best of my ability.

She’d say “You are so much stronger than you even think you are
Let your heart, let your heart lead the way”
That’s what she’d say

She’d Say – Andy Grammar feat. Lady Black Mambazo

We Are Safe.

Little one, we are here

Little one, I am holding you

Little one, our dragon is protecting you.

I see his sides glinting with shimmering opals

I see his eyes burning like rubies as their fierce glare burns those who are hurting you.

I see his wings spread to gather you close.

His fire bursts out as it’s destroys the space that has broken and beaten you.

I hear your wild cries and shrieks of terror in the night.

I see your hands wildly looking for safety.

I feel your pain when that safety is ripped from you.

I see your baby curls, the golden blonde ones,

The Shirley Temple look alike that drew so many smiles.

I see those curls being your curse.

I feel your fear of being noticed, your terror of being seen.

Being seen was unsafe, being noticed meant danger.

Baby Maeve, I feel your tears.

The ones you cried at night when no one saw you.

I see the shadow man waiting for you

I see his hands and fingers outstretched just waiting for darkness to fall.

I see you.

I hear you.

I feel your heart beat racing.

I feel that knot in the pit of your stomach.

I hears the whispers of “please no.”

We’re here to bring you home now.

Me and our Dragon.

He’s bringing you to me.

I will be your mama.

I will give you the love and kindness you were never given.

I will hold you, Baby Maeve, I will love you,

Forever and Always.

We’re bringing you home.

We’re bringing you to safety.

I can’t erase what the shadow man did.

I can’t take away the pain and confusion.

I can’t restore the childhood we never got.

I can’t be the mama who wasn’t there for you.

But I can love you now,

I can mother you now.

I can help soothe the rawness these wounds are causing us.

I can be safety for you.

I am safety.

We can hold you close,

We can wipe away the tears,

We can say over and over “I’m so sorry.”

This doesn’t and will not take away the pain.

But it will help, trust me, Baby Maeve,

It will give you the safety and love you have always needed.

I love you.

I believe you.

Baby Maeve

Acknowledge Us

Content Warning: Incest, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Child Rape, Being Drugged

I am strong.

I am powerful.

I was drugged so I could be controlled.

I was wounded.

I was broken.

I was shattered beyond any repair.

Or so I thought.

I recently was given a book written by a fellow childhood sexual abuse survivor. It’s almost funny how magnetizing those stories are and how so many of us find each other. Almost funny. ‘Cuz it’s really not, but it goes to show how powerful our stories are and how they draw us together. Our stories pull and shift so that we can find each other and know that, despite our abusers’ efforts, we are not alone.

The past month has been deeply shifting and transforming for me. A lot of layers were ripped back so old toxic wounds could be cleaned and then healed whole. A lot of these wounds have had to do with my mother. But two weeks ago in particular, I turned to my partner and told him that I realized I was feeling exactly how I did when my memories returned two years ago. Then I forgot about it because well life.

However, as I started reading the book my sister had given me, that uneasiness began to return. I made it 4 chapters into the book and had to put it down and walk away. I couldn’t read it. She was talking about how much she remembered and how she’s able to trace the abuse all the way through her childhood up to adulthood.

I am realizing as I write this that this is how I felt just before my memories returned 2 years ago. It was this uneasy sense of my story not being enough. Combined with a sense of something seriously missing but not being able to pin down what. Since some point last week, I have been carrying this uneasiness that something was shifting. Along with a deep desire to find someone who has a similar story to mine. It is really difficult to find another story like mine – one where the father was the rapist and the mother was the abuser.

As things were really sitting heavy with me yesterday, I kept trying to pull back to gain perspective. But as I did that, something started to fall into place. As I drove home from dropping my oldest off at school, I started tearing up. I have long thought that there was a good chance I was sexually abused at least once before being raped by my dad. Something happened before I could actually speak – the very least, speak in full sentences. This would line up with some of the things that didn’t get explained through the memories I have already had come back.

I have done a lot of work with reintegrating my younger self back into my soul, I even did a soul retrieval and brought her home. So when I got home from dropping my oldest off at school yesterday, I knew something was about to come through. I had lunch with a friend and thoroughly enjoyed chatting with them, but I felt the walls started to shatter and knew it was only a matter a time before it all came flooding out.

Yesterday afternoon, pieces started coming together. It was like I was standing there and calling those missing pieces to return to me. And they were coming back. Pieces were lining up, pictures were forming, and I could see the timeline starting to come back together.

I was sexually abused multiple times between the ages of 2ish to 5ish.

I believe the abuse started sometime before or during me being potty trained.

I couldn’t have said no. I didn’t know how to say no. It was not my fault.

The memories and feelings and sensations I’ve had return explain all of the gaps in my memories that I still didn’t have answers for. I still have missing places in my memories, but I am convinced those are because my brain couldn’t handle it anymore.

It explains my mother’s actions towards me even more.

I have been sitting with my youngest self and holding her and comforting her. My younger self who was brought home after my soul retrieval has been sitting with us too. We are both whispering and loving our youngest self and giving her the safe space she needs to “tell” us what happened.

I am sitting here watching my 2.5 year old happily play and build big legos all by himself. He unquestioningly trusts me to protect him and can be vulnerable around me and my partner. I watch my 5 year old feel safe enough to have a melt down because school was hard and he needs to just feel safe and held. Watching them have so much trust in us is a punch to gut knowing I once had that for my parents. Not only did neither of my parents hold that with respect and gentleness, they used and abused me and took advantage of my unquestioning trust in them.

I am sitting here and being gentle with myself today. Holding space and believing everything my youngest self gives for me to see. I am more present and grounded than I even have been with having memories coming back. My body is feeling relief of having the rest of the pieces.

And So It Is.