Shattered Glass Life After Abuse

I wrote this the day I turned 49, almost a year ago.... last week. I have waited so long to post it. I am not sure why I needed the time ... between the words spilling out and feeling comfortable publishing the post. But since I have just read over the words and like I am reading someone else's memory... I guess it is safely time to post. And last week I turned 50, just another happy day. ____________________________________________________ I received a birthday present today. I am forty-nine. While I don't feel old in my soul or spirt - not even my mind (except for the fact that I have read so much, I have to be old), I can now see OLD when I look in the mirror.  I wonder if this happens to every person that lives a long time. For such so many years, I had a permanent internal picture of what I looked like. I didn't age a day past 20. When I looked into the mirror, I looked like me - the young me I had always known. It must be telling that I had the abi...

I'm scared. I feel like a whole has been ripped right through my gut exposing the deepest secrets of who I am or was and I am really scared. What will become of me? Will they laugh, taunt, kick, throw stones.... Will it hurt? How deep will the pain go... how long will it last...people can be so mean. Will I live to regret me desire to be transparent... my desire to inform... to show what others may never get to peer within to see? Is that way I was set free? Did He know I would tell? Did He need someone to survive to explain what it is to be insane? Nevertheless, it still hurts, deep inside, twisting like spaghetti that will never come unclumped... inedible...stiff, stuck together what should be loosely free... it balls up inside of me. I draw a deep breath and ask for Him to reach in and take this heavy, painful lump away...spiritual surgery by the hand of the Master Physician. I trust. I lie open. I wait. I breathe. I will it away, lifted, takes, dispos...