One Lacerated Facade
As a lover of all fine arts and a classically-trained dancer/educator, I simultaneously fall in love with, nurture, bow down to, and despise all addictive behaviors. While I don’t find comfort with alcohol it is when I turn 50 that the deck seems stacked.
Tortured allergic reactions, lifelong depression, a stroke at 42 years of age, childhood post-traumatic stress disorder (C-PTSD) coupled with severe lead poisoning after being conceived and birthed in a war-torn land while coping with exposure to radiation in utero, a genetic mutation (MTHFR) conducive to alcoholism, various medical surgeries using narcotics, a panic disorder involving syncope from atrial fibrillation, and a dissociative disorder causing broken family ties and mangled friendships to be littered across the tarmac of my life.
Abdominal surgery at 50 years of age culminates in a ceaseless craving for alcohol. This is combined with relocating to north-central Florida into a completed cottage my father had designed which includes a safe room/bomb shelter attracting mold spores. The surgery rules out any alcohol use ~ however, no one knows until I and a boldly relentless medical team discover it 18 years later.
Added to this is the research supporting evidence of black mold toxicity (CIRS) growing in my lungs and rampantly at my lake cottage, showing a compromised system allergic to mycotoxins, of which alcohol is comprised. Even my team of doctors is surprised at the research uncovered. After countless seizures, falls, and a traumatic brain injury, my higher power, and the Universe watch. Added to this we discern from current research an increase in suicide in patients of this particular abdominal surgery.
Working relentlessly through a facade of days riddled with bloodied cuts and scars, I rise.
While my precious family is totally and completely worn out, I am finally free.
Free.
And then…I am completely abandoned by my now-adult children. My heart is shredded. Yet the power of my God walks with me through the darkest tunnel of my life. One day, flowers will spring forth again.
Not About Me
(Spoken Word) No. Not one. Ever. It is a fairytale. Or a joke. Or a bedtime story from a lover. And yet, why? Why have I spent my life believing someone would save me? This is not about me. Yet I know not why I hold this belief. And why the thematic […]
continue reading Not About MePools of Angry Humans
(Spoken Word) COVID lends itself to the world as a good-enough reason to become angry, be angry, and stay angry No matter who it emperils. Although sometimes it can become farcical it most of all hurts the actor playing the role of “angry human”. Suicides, mental illnesses, murder rates, and WHAT ELSE […]
continue reading Pools of Angry HumansOne Reflection
(Spoken word) Over two years of isolation so far Will it crest will it will it ever be over or Will we live as we did after World War I and then World War II and why Why Oh, why, dearest Higher Power of my understanding Please Can you […]
continue reading One ReflectionSurrender
Why is it so very difficult to lift our own hearts to the God of our understanding for healing? For my shredded heart is ill-equipped to understand the nefarious hatred and anger of humans at times. There are screaming humans who believe I am scraping and servile in my demeanor. They scream very quietly […]
continue reading SurrenderFawn is Rising
Fawn Rising, 11 years of age, Grade 6 Fawn walks out of the end of Ninth Grade. She is pregnant. The year is 1966. Fawn is fully-trained in classical ballet which wards off the lifelong-from-birth pain of scoliosis. Breaking competitive swim records also helps her back. Fawn’s parents spend their lives promoting peace through […]
continue reading Fawn is RisingPools of Angry Humans
Greetings to all the world. I send warm blessings of peace during this week of giving thanks for our existing earth from the United States of America. Questions to query: Is it possible that world-wide COVID carries with it an assumed intent toward uncontrollable anger? Are humans using this as a reason to become […]
continue reading Pools of Angry HumansAt Long Last
Sleep eludes me. I go down to the water’s edge Only to find my heart Is reflecting upon my beloved ones Having transitioned Into another world of existence. Those who had stood by me Those who did not Those who stood for me And those who stood close enough for me To lean against… […]
continue reading At Long LastThe Hand of God
The year is 1966. My brilliantly-gifted father who speaks seven languages is raising me. I am completing the ninth grade. My life is filled with breaking competitive swim records, musical composition and performance, and perfect grades. My life is good. I must drop out of school. At this time, my body is protecting a wee […]
continue reading The Hand of GodI AM AN AMERICAN
I am an American. At the age of 60, while applying to begin work on a doctoral degree (courtesy of my fearless brother Timothy M. Murphey, Ph.D., professor of linguistics in Japan), I am told by the University of Florida that I am considered “non-white”. This was never before said to me. I, and […]
continue reading I AM AN AMERICANCome for Tea!
Patterns, context, surprises, broken hearts, abandonment, addictions, and children of mercy are all things we sometimes cope with as humans. This said the human brain is constantly seeking three things: meaning, patterns, and an absence of threat. Imagine: I approach you in the forest and invite you into my cottage. I then ask you to […]
continue reading Come for Tea!Earth For Sale
What if climate changes all began with thinking “Do we have too many humans on our planet?” What if it became an issue of deleting the huge senior division of our elderly? And then… progressed to a huge blame game of a rampant virus, source(s) unknown? Blame begins to take over all hearts. […]
continue reading Earth For SaleI Know Heaven
(Spoken) It seems that in light of times of victory and blessed positive experiences, we can be swallowed up by uselessness and failure in God’s eyes. I present the following for consideration: Bludgeoning burning running crashing colliding tears going deeper into my heart’s castle of magical wonderment and ache to allow my silently screaming […]
continue reading I Know HeavenI Know Her When
When the family pets lick her stuck out tongue When her face lights up at the sound of my lullaby When her father enters the room and she squeals relentlessly, seemingly without breath When she pulls her cloth diaper off and crawls down the sandhill lake property to the clear water’s […]
continue reading I Know Her WhenBright Sides of Pandemic Isolation
At this juncture I am in the second decade of the third trimester of my life. This means I am 71 years old (if one considers a fully-lived life to be somewhere around 90 years). I adore my age. No one yells at me. No one tells me what to do. I […]
continue reading Bright Sides of Pandemic Isolation