Trauma is a horrific thing to have to endure but to live it over, and over again makes it a life long journey. Healing is a process that isn't overnight. Folks will cheer you on and yet the head still fills with all the memories of what has passed. Nothing can really make any of it feel better or go away. I think with time, maybe. I cant always be sure that I will ever be who I was. The naive little girl who loved the world so much. I can say that I am mad. I am sad. I am hurt and I struggle daily with each of those emotions. They don't just appear at once. I 'll be cruising along with life just fine and TRIGGER happens.
I will wake up so sad. My feelings of hope washed away and no feeling that I have any spark left. I am reminded of how fragile life is when doors are shut in front of me. When I listen to the painful lies spread about those who are living in poverty. I am left with little faith in humanity when I watch the greed consume folks during a possible hurricane or when I have to listen to some ignorant rant about how “poor folks did it to themselves.”
There have been plenty of days that I had to sit in various parking lots or parks not running the car to conserve on Gas. That gives me time to reflect. It gave me time to feel the pain of what we went through. I sit and cry. I sit and try to fill up the empty space in my chest that once had hope. I squeeze my fists tightly hoping to feel love. I get nothing. Nothing from this pain. I listen to the breeze hit the loose shield on my window. It rattles. The cars drive by and there is nothing. No one to talk too. No one to trust. No one to believe in.
Well? No one except the dog. She listens. She licks my arm lightly when I cry. She sits next to me panting away in this damn hot car. She cares. Or at least she trusts me. I am her food. Shelter. Butt rubs. We have a great relationship. She pants at me while I cry. Yes. There is the love of my pup.
There are plenty of folks who want to view the story but very few who want to help. Then there are those who help but then act as though you now owe them the world. So it's easier not to reach out for help. Sometimes? There are folks that give help unconditionally and that's when I feel the most blessed. That's the glimmer of hope that gets me moving. It always happens last minute. The sand is on its last grain on the timer and BOOM! Something happens to change your moment. It really doesn't take much. A smile. A joke. A gas card.
I find that as I journey through life, I have a deep sadness I can not shake. A sadness of the cruelty that others impose. I don't understand WHY nor can I wrap my head around how someone can be cruel. I don't understand abuse. I don't understand the judgments. I don't understand how someone can hit someone else or use words to crush a heart. The deeper I get into the world of poverty, the harder it is for me to feel anything more than sad. There are many ways that we can stop this madness. The fastest? Is to talk about it. To talk openly about why poverty exists. Why it's so complex and how we can overcome it. I find that many folks are afraid to hear the answers.
So? Poverty grows on………
Until Next time……
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I write pieces of my 43-years journey circling this planet. Some are past and some present. The time is not relevant. It’s the story of healing, hope, transformation, and my overall determination not to give up.
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Write to me as I would love to hear from you:
Living & Thriving with Rustie
2828 S Mccall Rd
32–4
Englewood, FL 34224
