It’s just about a year since I first touched the edges of this wound.

A wound so deep it brings with it a dragon breathing fire.

Wrath.

There is a lot of Grace I need to give myself here because I’m expected not to “abuse my power”.

But a trauma response is not force.

A trauma response is a deep, guttural explosion.

And I, like everyone else, have to accept the consequences of this.

But it’s like this wound is so deep I barely even notice it until I’m fully in the center of it and it feels like someone is about to kill me.

That’s what a trauma response is.

Life of death. It’s not rational.

When I first touched this it was last year when Kellen accidentally gave me whiplash in the car.

I was also dealing with my rotator cuff and unknowingly dealing with the brain stuff from mold and I was at my capacity.

The betrayal I felt was so deep.

Like how could you?

How could you not protect me?

It gutted me in this deep deep way.

I felt it again this week.

After 7 months of mold remediation the ceiling in my house that was almost fixed had water pouring through it. I was able to hold this because we are addressing it and we have these amazing people helping me.

At the same time a leaking pipe in the hallway of my apartment building going on for a week.

I started to feel the mold in my hallway.

It effects my vision first.

Then my brain.

I requested to see the engineering manager in the building because he and I had done this dance a few months ago when this leak happened the first time.

I began the conversation politely but stearnly insisting that this was a problem, that I was living here because of mold, and that I am clear there was definitely mold in the hallway and can he bring in someone to contain the area.

I was met with “there is no mold”

And

“You can’t feel mold”

It had the flavor of patronizing dismissal of the feminine

Gaslighting my knowing and wisdom

I unleashed a full wrathful fury on him that I’m not sure I ever have in my life.

Full throttle wrath.

I don’t think I have ever given myself permission to let it out in that way.

It was not a personal attack.

It was clean content wise. No name calling.

Just Wrath.

The no you will not fucking gaslight me and you will fix this because god damn it my physical safety is depending on you.

It was deep.

He was frozen and then just walked away.

The energy felt bigger than me and this situation though.

I went upstairs and sat down and asked myself why this rage, why now?

and I turned all that energy in and down into my being and penetrated the spot of

“WHY DIDN’T YOU PROTECT ME?”

And along with every flashback of ways I experienced failure of being protected I got to the personal root that I knew about but never truly felt.

My birth father, who is long dead and who I never knew, beat the shit out of my birth mother when she was 6 months pregnant with me.

This betrayal, most likely an attempt to kill me, was the trigger that ultimately led to her giving me up for adoption.

Wrath is commensurate with our pain.

This is pain I didn’t even know I had.

And while it is deeply unfortunate this guy was the one to meet my wrath I’m grateful it happened because I know that it served my absolute highest and best good.

I also trust the energy so much that I imagine there is some wild gift in this for him too.

He actually held it.

He didn’t even react.

And while you can judge me, I’m not actually sorry.

I should want to clean it up.

But what feels true is to fully let it go and soak up every bit of medicine in it for me.

I feel the rightness and perfection in it.

And the potency of the discovery would not have occurred without that level of reaction.

It was completely out of my awareness.

The pain was so buried I could not have located it without a bomb.

As I tapped into it I felt like I was screaming for every child who has ever been harmed.

“WHY DIDN’T YOU PROTECT ME?”

“WHY DIDN’T YOU FUCKING PROTECT ME”

I remember standing on the edge of a cliff considering my suicide at 15 and screaming “FUCK THEM FUCK EVERYONE.”

No one knew how to help me.

They had no answers.

I was deeply alone in my pain.

Just me.

No one was coming to save me.

And literally no one was coming to save me.

I had to choose myself and to live all alone.

People are so quick to judge my pain.

The people who think they preside over watching my power.

And yet even with all my power, I’m powerless to do anything to protect myself in this current situation because literally not one person will listen to me.

All the ears turn deaf to even the loudest of screams.

That powerlessness brings us to the depths of the heartbreak.

The acceptance of the pain, the fear, mortality.

I could feel the depth of this collective pain.

And through my own pain and I invite you to tap into this opportunity to feel the wrath in you that screams “Why didn’t you protect me.”

It is no surprise that I’m feeling this before lineage and before my 45th birthday.

This needed to come out this week.

It feels so incredibly important that I open this part of my heart and integrate this lost wound.

I will thank this man in my prayers for his deep service.

It’s just about a year since I first touched the edges of this wound.

A wound so deep it brings with it a dragon breathing fire.

Wrath.

There is a lot of Grace I need to give myself here because I’m expected not to “abuse my power”.

But a trauma response is not force.

A trauma response is a deep, guttural explosion.

And I, like everyone else, have to accept the consequences of this.

But it’s like this wound is so deep I barely even notice it until I’m fully in the center of it and it feels like someone is about to kill me.

That’s what a trauma response is.

Life of death. It’s not rational.

When I first touched this it was last year when Kellen accidentally gave me whiplash in the car.

I was also dealing with my rotator cuff and unknowingly dealing with the brain stuff from mold and I was at my capacity.

The betrayal I felt was so deep.

Like how could you?

How could you not protect me?

It gutted me in this deep deep way.

I felt it again this week.

After 7 months of mold remediation the ceiling in my house that was almost fixed had water pouring through it. I was able to hold this because we are addressing it and we have these amazing people helping me.

At the same time a leaking pipe in the hallway of my apartment building going on for a week.

I started to feel the mold in my hallway.

It effects my vision first.

Then my brain.

I requested to see the engineering manager in the building because he and I had done this dance a few months ago when this leak happened the first time.

I began the conversation politely but stearnly insisting that this was a problem, that I was living here because of mold, and that I am clear there was definitely mold in the hallway and can he bring in someone to contain the area.

I was met with “there is no mold”

And

“You can’t feel mold”

It had the flavor of patronizing dismissal of the feminine

Gaslighting my knowing and wisdom

I unleashed a full wrathful fury on him that I’m not sure I ever have in my life.

Full throttle wrath.

I don’t think I have ever given myself permission to let it out in that way.

It was not a personal attack.

It was clean content wise. No name calling.

Just Wrath.

The no you will not fucking gaslight me and you will fix this because god damn it my physical safety is depending on you.

It was deep.

He was frozen and then just walked away.

The energy felt bigger than me and this situation though.

I went upstairs and sat down and asked myself why this rage, why now?

and I turned all that energy in and down into my being and penetrated the spot of

“WHY DIDN’T YOU PROTECT ME?”

And along with every flashback of ways I experienced failure of being protected I got to the personal root that I knew about but never truly felt.

My birth father, who is long dead and who I never knew, beat the shit out of my birth mother when she was 6 months pregnant with me.

This betrayal, most likely an attempt to kill me, was the trigger that ultimately led to her giving me up for adoption.

Wrath is commensurate with our pain.

This is pain I didn’t even know I had.

And while it is deeply unfortunate this guy was the one to meet my wrath I’m grateful it happened because I know that it served my absolute highest and best good.

I also trust the energy so much that I imagine there is some wild gift in this for him too.

He actually held it.

He didn’t even react.

And while you can judge me, I’m not actually sorry.

I should want to clean it up.

But what feels true is to fully let it go and soak up every bit of medicine in it for me.

I feel the rightness and perfection in it.

And the potency of the discovery would not have occurred without that level of reaction.

It was completely out of my awareness.

The pain was so buried I could not have located it without a bomb.

As I tapped into it I felt like I was screaming for every child who has ever been harmed.

“WHY DIDN’T YOU PROTECT ME?”

“WHY DIDN’T YOU FUCKING PROTECT ME”

I remember standing on the edge of a cliff considering my suicide at 15 and screaming “FUCK THEM FUCK EVERYONE.”

No one knew how to help me.

They had no answers.

I was deeply alone in my pain.

Just me.

No one was coming to save me.

And literally no one was coming to save me.

I had to choose myself and to live all alone.

People are so quick to judge my pain.

The people who think they preside over watching my power.

And yet even with all my power, I’m powerless to do anything to protect myself in this current situation because literally not one person will listen to me.

All the ears turn deaf to even the loudest of screams.

That powerlessness brings us to the depths of the heartbreak.

The acceptance of the pain, the fear, mortality.

I could feel the depth of this collective pain.

And through my own pain and I invite you to tap into this opportunity to feel the wrath in you that screams “Why didn’t you protect me.”

It is no surprise that I’m feeling this before lineage and before my 45th birthday.

This needed to come out this week.

It feels so incredibly important that I open this part of my heart and integrate this lost wound.

I will thank this man in my prayers for his deep service.