Friday, August 23, 2013



There was a time when I prayed for death. 
I wanted it to wash over me like a wave, 'til I was floating in the midst of it - knowing nothing, seeing nothing, and most importantly, feeling nothing.  I needed the pain to completely subside and put an end to the Voices, which had begun to torment me around the clock, telling me that my only path to peace was through my own death.  So I decided to take matters into my own hands - bring some "peace" to the situation, and I remember reciting these words over and over in my mind, "I resign, I resign, I resign," as I plotted to take my own life.

But, this was not a spirit I began battling in my adult life - No.  It began early in my childhood - imagine that.  There was this dichotomous split between the little girl who wanted to live and the "other me," who would try and cut side deals with our Creator to "just kill me."  Obviously, since this is current day and I am present to write this letter to you, then God, Our Father, whom I used to affectionately call, "my little goddy," thankfully did not oblige; He had already allowed the killing of His own Son instead - for you and me, but we'll leave that discussion for another time.  

As a little girl, I saw God as this pint size person whom I loved and cared for dearly, like He was my own child.  Wherever we'd go, I invited little goddy to ride shotgun as we climbed into the backseat of my parents car and talked about  everything, even how they got along (my mom, at first, was a bit concerned about these conversations). No matter, God became my best friend. I enjoyed Him even more than my imaginary mates because, unlike them, He could play with me in my dreams - we even rode a roller coaster together.  How COOL is that ?!?!?!  
Anyway, God knew things, cool things, which He'd share with me.  I believed they were mysterious secrets about life, so I always imagined I was a bit like Bond, but better.  

Now, in order for me to paint a more complete picture of the darkness with which we first began, I need for you to understand that my life originated in light.  In fact, it was akin to being bathed in it; I woke, slept, played, prayed, thanked, and sang to God.  Remember this was my BFF;  I asked Him to let me brush His hair...He taught me how to fly in my sleep - away from the bad guys...He let me look into His firey red eyes in my dreams and I listened to His voice tell me secret things while He, in turn, listened to ME! Yes, my childhood holds many beautiful memories of our time together.   So, for the life of me, I could not reconcile how SUDDENLY, this suicidal nemesis from without could find its way within - making me want to do things that "the Spirit of me would cry for."  What door had been opened? By whom? Was there an actual "door" ajar (within me), leaving me vulnerable to this mental, spiritual attack?!?! Where did it come from? Was it my parents occasional drama leaving its mark? And finally, do I tell anyone?!?!......"No," I heard the voice say, "people will think you're crazy...  Anyway, you're stronger than that. Just say some prayers and you'll be fine - think positive."  So, I kept smiling.

Years passed and there I was doing life my way, but INSIDE I was battling something that was completely nonsensical.  Two minds were facing off, contending for the rise and fall of the same life: MINE.  The circumstances ranged from failing a test in school to something much weightier, like the breaking of my heart.  Nevertheless, there were "triggers," and when they went off, the voices would resound - even my own voice seem to join "the party," and blamed me for everything that wasn't PERFECT.

But wait, there's more....
# The Takeover, L.D. 

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