Shaking, Breathing, Becoming

Eyes closed, beats, breathing, focus. Voices and messages of peace and strength. You are safe. Stay grounded. Don’t run. Release yourself completely. Touches from breath angels when you feel most vulnerable. Gentle reminders that you are not alone.

Flash backs of my children. Being cornered. Silent cries. Fear freezing me.

“Bitch.” “Cunt.” A wall, a trash can. Blood pouring from my mouth. Slams to my back while I slept.

Tears. Stiffness. Afraid to cry but finally able to release the tears. Shaking.

A feeling of losing control. Nervous system overload. Pain in my fingers turned into a tingling sensation..

No control of the mind. Blue flashes. Red flashing lights on the wall. Door shutting. Crib shaking. Silent screams.

Cold touches. Tingling spreading. My arms, legs, face and chest. My nervous system.

“Don’t try to make sense of this yet.”

Pain and held in anxiety releasing uncomfortably from my body. Uncontrollable waves of intensity. Shakes and exhaustion.

You have had to be the strength for others for a long time; it is time to be the strength for yourself. You have had to be strong for everyone else. Now it is time to find strength in yourself.

The words stuck in my memory. The words that hit the hardest.

A long drive home. Exhaustion. A clear mind. Silence in a truck filled with relaxing rap music.

Safety and security. The ability to be free to feel the world in silence with him.

Never knowing what it was like to feel peace around a man.

The tingling still radiating in my finger tips. Exhaustion filling my body.

Is this what peace feels like? Emptiness and release of control. Stimulation.

Calls to my mom and dad for the last part of my drive in hopes of fighting to stay awake on the way home. Healthy distractions.

Bedtime. The dark. The silence.

Sleep.

A voice inside my head as I lay there.

“Momma. I don’t like what they say about you. I wish they would stop.”

“Momma. I don’t like what they say about you. I wish they would stop.”

“Momma. I don’t like what they say about you. I wish they would stop.”

Wake up. Look around. No kids. No noise. Nobody but me.

Grab my phone. All of a sudden it makes sense.

The words. The voices.

“Bitch.”

“Jealous Baby Momma.”

“Ugly.”

While I am breaking free, my kids are still living it. Cruelty and hatred spread by a man to people who want so badly to believe him in hopes that they won’t ever have to face the truth.

Flashes of my children. Radiating pain. Sickness bubbling inside.

They don’t like the silence. My power. My peace. They want to disrupt it with lies and drama because they fear the possibility of pain.

“She wishes she was with him.” An overstimulating stomach pain. Nauseousness. Uncomfortable tingling feeling filling my body. Shaking.

Breathe. In. Out.

Music. “It’s another day that I’m not missing you… Should have said enough. Should have said enough.”

“You left me with memories I’ll never forget, no matter how hard I try to forget.”

Internal pain pouring out of my pores.

Struggles to fall back asleep. Sickening pain. Emotions.

Journal.

My words pouring onto the page. Feelings of peace in my fingertips.

The music in the background. The tranquility of knowing safety and security in myself.

Silence fills the room. A quiet click clack of the keyboard fading.

Peace.