Resurrections and Exorcisms

 

 

I stuttered as a child.

I had to take special classes pre-kindergarten.

My speech therapist told my folks “her vocabulary is more than her tongue can physically handle, her mouth has to catch up to her mind.”

Nothing changes.

My current speech impediment is overthinking before I speak.

It is amazing how I channel for everyone else unfiltered, just let it flow. Yet, when it comes to me, it’s all second guessing and insecurity.

In addition to my stutter I had a mousy brown bowl cut, glasses, small stature and a crooked little smile.
I was a strange little girl inside and out. Still am. Still insecure too.

She thrusts her fists against the posts and still insists she sees the ghosts.*

I have ghosts. I speak of them and to them with alarming regularity.

Communion with the dead. Wafers and wine included.

Last suppers that haven’t ever really been the last.

Corporeal/imaginary friends and lovers. Arm’s length, mostly.

Ghostlings and Changelings and Angels oh my. Must be a day that ends in Y.

On my never ending quest to glean the why, I think I figured something out.

The man I call Home sent me this.

I am haunted because, to others, I too am a ghost.

The man I call ex-husband published this.

I had vanished, he wanted me homeward bound instead. Bound being the operative word. I went back to him numerous times after this. Even spoke to him in the summer. It ended just as badly every time. So I buried him, unceremoniously. With a clove of garlic in his mouth just to be safe. Salted the earth and haven’t looked back.

I have one foot in the underworld and the other is only hovering in the present.

I am so messed up about how I used to be that I seek validation from the time called “before”.
Giving it more weight than what is happening here and now.

“I miss you” and “I still love you after all this time”.
Like choirs of seraphim singing, I didn’t hear it at first but they are warbling way off key.

A man from 1992 came to me years ago and told me he regretted letting me go, that I was his one.

On my 40^th birthday, 2 men from high school spoke up. One said he dumped me because he didn’t feel worthy, it was preemptive. Ran before I could hurt him. The other recalled what I was wearing the first time he saw me, said I looked like an angel, he never spoke more than a dozen words to me back then, I actually thought he hated me.

Months prior I had High School Sweetheart speaking to me in ways he ought not to, told me he loves me too, more than his wife. At the same time Golden Boy exhumed the past to show me what he did whilst apologizing for it. I had buried all of it.

I admit, I rejoiced in the resurrections. I felt vindicated.

But all of this is an abomination against the Lord.

“There’s no way around grief and loss: You can dodge all you want, but sooner or later you just have to go into it, through it and, hopefully, come out the other side. The world you find there will never be the same as the world you left.” Johnny Cash

Something happened as I was falling for the Giant recently.

And behold, the veil of the temple was torn into two from top to bottom. And the earth was shaken, and the rocks were split. And the tombs were opened, and many bodies of the saints having fallen asleep arose. And coming out of the tombs after His resurrection they entered the holy city. Matthew 27:51-53

Gelfling rose like Lazarus. I looked the other way.

Wolfling attempted to trespass against us and I didn’t forgive him.

Sunday delivered his weekly sermon. I did not sit and I most certainly didn’t kneel.

The Poet wrote and called me.
My head spun around and I puked him out.
Blessed purging.

I was using Young Un for parables. I squandered my own gifts to lean on the past for advice. Forgive me. He was no Angel of the Lord in this. He said ‘be afraid’ instead. And I was and it was bad, amen.

Then Jesus asked him, “What is your name?”
“My name is Legion,” he replied, “for we are many.” Mark 5:9

Deliver us from evil.

Wait…

Buddha is chiming in, bless him.

“…nothing ever goes away until it has taught us what we need to know. If we run a hundred miles an hour to the other end of the continent in order to get away from the obstacle, we find the very same problem waiting for us when we arrive. it just keeps returning with new names, forms, manifestations until we learn whatever it has to teach us about where we are separating ourselves from reality, how we are pulling back instead of opening up, closing down instead of allowing ourselves to experience fully whatever we encounter, without hesitating or retreating into ourselves.” Pema Chödrön

The Giant/Goliath/Nephilim?

He hasn’t become an apparition just yet, but he would rather miss me than be with me.

I cannot process this. I’m trying.

I asked the Hulk/my other Giant this morning, if I’d untangled myself from my supposed safety nets in a timely manner, would the situation have been reversible.
Him: Hard question to answer at this point. But I believe I would have.
Me: Please know that I’m beyond happy you are happy. I care about you a lot, as a friend.
Him: I don’t think to a mature mind the damage would be permanent
Me: I feel extra stupid because I should’ve already learned this lesson.

I think I am done regrouping now. I layeth down in green pastures and shit for almost a week now. Time to get up and walk through the valley, with both feet this time.

I will listen to both the men in black, Johnny and the Gunslinger “go now, there are other worlds than these.”

The Lord works in mysterious ways, and my gods are even more tricksy.

No choice but to let go and let god, all my Gods.

The football player was in purgatory. I dreamt I was going to see him again after my baptism in the ocean, I denied the second coming.
I cannot fight what is so written apparently.

I might yet find my glory glory hallelujah, forever and ever amen.

But for now, football season cometh.

Hail Mary passes et al.

 

(*the one thing I remember from speech therapy)