I'm Done With Evil

"We didn't think she was a part of your family."  White hot rage burned inside me.  It was detoxifying.  It was delicious.  For the first time since Evil seeped into my life, poisoned my dad, and made sure she had him to herself, I was able to detach and observe as the white hot anger flashed in every cell of my body.  I was done with carrying their in-accountabilities, secrets and lies.  My stepsister had suffered a brain aneurysm and stroke the month previously, was in critical condition, and no one bothered to tell us.  We had just seen them in June, and as usual, no matter how much time had passed, my stepsister and I were able to connect on an authentic level, sharing stories and laughing.  I especially enjoyed sharing stories of our children.  My children especially enjoyed the reconnection with their cousins.  When I asked my dad again why they didn't contact us, he spewed out another lie.  This was my chance, a magnificent opportunity to claim my power and to put an end to Evil running the show.  "You know what you did, you know why you did it, and it was unkind."  When I got off the phone, I was able to let all the hurt, anger, rage, and sadness bubble out of me as I paced in front of our dining room window which revealed the gorgeous autumn day, keeping me grounded.  I love love.  I'm done with Evil.

Evil first made her daring appearance a few days after my mother committed suicide.  I answered the phone, and through the line came in that annoying, screeching, high-pitched voice, "Hi!  This is Mom!"  In that moment, I gave my power away and gave her excuses for behaving so inappropriately.  This was the beginning of the collapse of my critical mind, leaving me unconsciously wide open for further hurts to be slung at me.  This is Mom?  What the...?  She just died!  Oh, "Mom" from the church group six years ago!  "Hi", and that was the beginning of my end.  Life as I knew it had already ended.  I didn't think it could get worse.  I was so wrong.  I didn't have the strength, the courage or the wherewithal to stop Evil in her tracks.  She knew I knew about her and my dad having an affair, sending letters to each other.  I still see my dad telling me that he wanted me to write letters to Evil's daughter so that he could put his letters in my envelope.  My stomach turned.  He told me not to tell my mother, because it would upset her.  "Okay."  Another part of me died.  A few months later, my mother was back in the mental hospital.  Four months after that, she died.  Three months after that, my dad took me and my siblings to Texas where Evil resided and we spent summer vacation putting up with them disappearing and French-kissing in the kitchen.  Later, Evil told me that my dad grabbed her boob in the park during that trip.  TMI.  And oh, there was so much more to come.

I became putty in Evil's hands.  She dressed me, she filled me with inappropriate sexual stories between her and what-used-to-be-my-dad, she listened in on my phone calls, she lied about me, she lied to me, she told me I had been my father's wife for years, she ignored me, she insisted I call her "Mom" and to enroll the rest of my siblings to do the same, she interfered with my siblings and my relationships, she made fun of my mother, she pitted me against my siblings, she spoke for what-used-to-be-my-dad, she made sure what-used-to-be-my-dad became her mouthpiece, she told me that when what-used-to-be-my-dad died she wouldn't tell anyone in the family...

The list goes on and on and on.  My putty self was so desperate for a mother's love, I allowed the molding.  Just don't leave me!  Evil had me.  She had her ways of letting it known that if I didn't keep her secrets, she would give me the silent treatment.  I remember so many times just seeing the back of her frosted mop haircut head, always tilted to the side as she walked away.  I remember the pain in my heart.

Fast forward to when I married the male version of Evil.  I had learned the game of "Let's Pretend Everything Is Okay"  aka "Don't Rock the Boat!", and I played it well.  In fact, I became such a master at it that I attracted  Male-Version-of-Evil to up the ante and threaten my well-being with all kinds of abuse.  "Let's Pretend Everything's Okay", because I couldn't bear being left again.  Please don't leave me@!

It wasn't until I was holding the rusty razor to my wrist that I realized that the only one leaving me was me.  I knew I didn't want to die.  I just didn't want to live anymore.  Putting down that razor changed the trajectory of my life and opened up opportunities for me to heal.  Again, life as I knew it ended.  On to the next chapter.

Fast forward to when I married Love.  Living in another state, reading helpful books, attending healing workshops, making great friends, and birthing two amazing human beings.  Welcome to "Claim Your Power 101".  This "class" would prove to be a long one but well worth it.  Love and The-Two-Amazing-Human-Beings were instrumental in returning me to me.  During this extraordinary adventure, I still allowed Evil to interfere, but much much less.  I was on to her, and she knew it.  She upped her game.  She morphed into Two-Faced so skillfully that it was difficult to discern.  That is, until I became conscious of her game.  There was a part of me that still held onto the dream that everyone changed and healed like me and that we were all going to come together.  Nope.  What I learned is that there was still that pesky residual of "Please don't leave me!" weakening me and allowing Evil to still run the show.

Fast forward to the present with me in the advanced class of Claim Your Power.  The-Two-Amazing-Human-Beings, along with Love, have continued to reflect back to me who-I-really-am, encouraging me to empower myself and to remember my worth.  The more I awaken, the less Evil has a hold on me.  And then, POOF!, there's nothing there.  I remember the exact moment it happened.  I was on the phone with what-used-to-be-my-dad regarding my stepsister, when I caught myself starting to say "I'll talk to you later".  Halfway through saying it, I just hung up.  There was nothing there.  At last.  I had done it.  I didn't allow the fact that my stepsister was in the hospital to stop me from expressing my anger and hurt.  I didn't even ask how what-used-to-be-my-dad and Evil were doing.  There was nothing there.  I'm done with Evil.

-LD