I remember like it was yesterday. This clarity frightens me, it’s the sign of a wound I can’t heal, a portal to a place that turns me into a danger to myself and to others.
No one could ever predict it, or even imagine the brutality of these emotions. After all, it’s me. The sweet, gentle, polite me. Yet, for years I acted like a drug addict.
There’s no metaphor here, not in my screams, not in my violence, not in my pain! I see myself begging for love, falling on my knees, manipulating, threatening him to give me back what I thought it’s mine for eternity. His love. Expressed through attention, tenderness, passion, care, admiration, respect…any of this would be better than nothing. Because the nothing he offered created the mad me.
And, just like a drug addict, I see myself trembling, taking pills, all sort of pills, searching, always searching…desperately searching for someone or something to replace his love. I see the mad me blindly repeating this scenario with others, just to prove myself that I’m the good one. I’m still lovable, while they…
The mean ones, the bad ones, the seduced ones and the abandoned ones. Then, back to the start, because my prince was supposed to be there! Among the mean ones, the bad ones, etc…I took, more than once, an overdose of hours spend on line. An overdose of princes turned into frogs. It proved to be almost deadly.
Am I still a danger to myself and to others?
It’s easy, I guess, to just say the words…”God’s love healed me”…in fact, it took me years to build this kind of faith inside me. And sometimes I feel it wasn’t me at all. Maybe the promise of a greater Love, or just the green hills embraced by golden light, in my dreams, or was it the warmth that keeps me safe, like a pair of protective arms around me, every time I fall…
I promised myself I’ll never be on my knees, begging for love, never again.
I promised Him I’ll always look up with a smile, waiting to return HOME.