I have so much to say, but it seems as though I’ve forgotten how to form words. How to form words into sentences — phrases — something… anything. I used to be able to talk about so much. But now, I’m finding it difficult to express how I really feel. I used to think I was very blunt and up front about myself, but what I’ve come to realize is the exact opposite.

I only wanted what I wanted people to see. I figured if I put on a strong, courageous front then I was giving them what they wanted. I was giving them what I wanted, but at the end of the day, you realize you’re just living a lie. Maybe I am like Dorian Grey and all my sins are depicted on this hidden painting of myself. But will it kill me to see who I truly am? Will this new existence cripple me?

I believe in reincarnation. I believe that the Soul never dies and you’ve had multiple lives. Each life you learn something as well create karma that is needed to be dealt with the next lesson. I believe the Soul must grow, recreate, re-examine itself, and unravel to find and seek the TRUTH. The TRUTH is what everyone seeks. The TRUTH has always been internal and never external. The meaning of life — the reason for existence has always been internal — not tangible by the physical limitations of this world. That is why the Soul must forever continue a cyclical pattern until all the lessons have been learnt.

The fears and paranoias we have in this life have been triggered by things that have happened in this life or lifetimes prior. Things that we have not yet come to terms with, lessons we must learn and conquer. And I understand that to some people I may sound like a lunatic, but I will stand by my faith in my beliefs and in myself.

I’m very much into spiritual growth. I’m into the idea that our salvation is found through freeing ourselves internally from the outter world. Our inner world or our inner universe is too precious to be trampled on and supressed. But we have all done it… been told that it isn’t “the way” or it isn’t right. And I believe them — I must have. But that sacred garden within you is and will always be there, no matter how much you bury it inside of you.

I’ve seen some of my past lives. And up until presently, I didn’t want to see them. I didn’t want to relive those experiences away. I locked them up inside of me — left them in the corner of my psyche under lock and key. Except something happened, someone came into my life and made me realize that it’s time to fight. It’s time to pick yourself off the ground and realize you are not weak… and you are not defeated. It’s taken me this long to realize that his presence and his existence in my life was not meant to harm me but to wake me up. For the majority of my blog posts, I’ve b*tched and moaned about this guy who came into my life and made such an impact. It’s taken me this long to realize why I never wanted to come to the conclusion I knew I’d find — whether it be that yes, I love this man and that I’ve been running from him because I’ve been running from myself.

And it’s just an insane realization, but it never mattered truly if he loves me or not. It is the fact, I could not and WOULD NOT come to terms with myself — that deep down inside, I could not look myself in the mirror and be proud of who I am.

I didn’t understand why I was this insecure and what caused so much frenzied terror that I cared for someone. And the idea that a person like that could maybe like me scared me shitless beyond belief, because I truly believed that they’d see through me into the eyes of the one person I’ve been hiding all along deep within me. I wondered why I never stood up for myself when it counted the most. Why I let guys trample over me… even my ex-boyfriend. Why if I didn’t tell them to stop EVERY SINGLE DAMN TIME they put it in that it fucking hurt and they needed to let me fucking adjust… and I just didn’t realize what the entire backstory was. I didn’t realize why I felt the way I do (especially about myself).

From what I gathered, I’ve had some really… some of my past lives aren’t pretty. I’m not going to lie about it. I think I’ve just been running from it too long that, it’s just time to come clean. In two of my past lives, I was abused by my husband or rather husbands. What sucks is that I’ve actually met the both of them in this life… it took me some time to piece it altogether, but maybe if I just say it, it’ll be easier to just come out.

Sometimes, these visions would come at random times and they’d just take over out. It’s like going into a deep trance and there is no way out. There is no true evil beyond human perception. We create our own internalized demons. The negativity people feel are from spirits who have not yet passed on (meaning individuals who are trapped in their karma and instead of going into their next life, they stay and relive their tragic, horrific experiences). The world remains and exists — there’s no doubt that it remembers everything. History has bleed into the soil of this earth. And sometimes it bleeds into different realities.

In my visions, I used to get attacked by these so-called demons. It would always start as one-on-one and the end they’d begin to multiply. But when it began, it would just take hold and it was like I was there and I couldn’t open my eyes. It would basically beat me up, torture me, hurt me… it was sadistic. They always tried to kill me, but I realized it was never that simple. They wanted me to suffer, to feel pain. And I would feel it, I’d feel all the pain they’d inflict. They’d choke and I truly couldn’t breathe. I remember one instance they dragged a knife across my collarbone area and I remember screaming and hearing me scream in that realm. I could hear my screams echoing. I felt that pain as if it was actually happening. Everything always felt real. They would always tell me I was worthless, that I never deserved Love, and I certainly never would be worthy of him.

HUSBAND #1 (from past life)
He would hit me, punch me, choke me… beat me senseless. And I’d remember these horrific scenes — scenes of rape, scenes of him bringing other women to our house to have sex in our bed because I couldn’t be enough of a woman to satisfy him. That I could never be enough for him and I felt it was my fault. I thought I could explain what happened in detail, but I’m starting to realize it’s a little harder to talk about than I realized. I do remember one thing. I was pregnant with his child and I remember him beating me. I told him that he was going to hurt the baby. He continue to punch and kick me specifically in the abdomen and told me that he didn’t want to have the fucking baby anyway, that it was just a trap to make him stay with me… afterwards, he left after opening the fridge, grabbing a beer, and making his way to the other room. I looked down and saw blood pooling around… I remember what I felt like after I miscarried — felt empty. The doctors told me I couldn’t have children again. I did manage to get out of the marriage — to get a divorce. I had met a loving man who wanted me, loved me, cared for me… but I threw it all way because I couldn’t imagine how he could love a person like me. I couldn’t give him children. I wasn’t enough of a woman…

HUSBAND #2 (from another past life)
He actually loved me almost insanely, but he was very insecure of himself. He was jealous of everyone. He was also in the army. The one instance I remember was that he acused me of looking at another man (one of his colleagues) and he punished me by raping me. He accused me of cheating on him. He told me repeatedly that no other man would want me that he just took pity on me — and thats why he married me. He actually killed me. He said that if he couldn’t have me then he’d make sure no other man could have me. He killed me by choking me while he raped me.

I know this doesn’t make a lot of sense. It probably won’t, but all of this is a part of the process. The past, the present, and the future are ALWAYS connected. Always. I’ve met both of these men in my present life. All of the impacted my life and no they weren’t sexually connected to me, but both of these men had attempted to further enter my life with the intention of making a “love” match. If I hadn’t met this guy, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have had the will to say “no”, to let it pass by.

The next image/vision was definitely of my own spiritual journey. I was walking through this hospital. Everything was like a black-and-white film. And I entered this room. This girl was strapped to the hospital bed. She had bruises, scars, and wounds all over her body. She looked absolutely horrific. The girl was me.

I don’t exactly remember everything that happened. Only that she started screaming at me — saying phrases like: Look at me! Say it! Say what you’re really thinking! Tell me you’re ashamed! You can’t even look at me! This is why you’ve kept me locked up inside this godforsaken room, because you’re ashamed of me! Of yourself! ADMIT IT! Admit that you hate me!

And that’s when I broke. I can’t even put into words truly what I actually said. I just admitted the entire truth. I admitted that I was ashamed of myself. That I couldn’t stand to look at her because it reminded of all the things that I said I’d never be. That I let this happen, that I never stood up for myself, that these scars, cuts, bruises were all my fault. And I was ashamed of myself for letting this happen, to having it get this far.

I’ve been running from the truth for so long that I’ve buried it deep inside me (like repressed memories). After I let that out, it was actually easier to talk to her. She explained that yes she was a part of me, but that I was broken. Souls will remain broken until they finally integrate into One.

It’s like when you look at yourself in a full length mirror. And say that mirror breaks. Each pieces reflects and represents you. You are broken until you are repaired (until you integrate all these small pieces until one again). It’s like you need to put yourself back together and see yourself for who you truly are before you can truly accept why someone could possibly love you or care for you. It’s not that you don’t believe — it’s that you’re so broken that each piece has its own story. Each piece of a legit reason for either believing or not believing.

I took this girl (who was me battered and bruised) outside. She was too weak to walk so I wheeled her out in a wheelchair. She said she wanted to see the sun — that it had been too long since she’d seen the Light. We had a conversation — and maybe a sane person would understand that this could be borderline psychotic (that you are having a conversation with yourself who represents a piece of you). She said a lot of things that threw me. She said that I knew in my heart that deep down I’ve always known the truth. She said that it has nothing to do with the reflection I see in the mirror, it has to do with the universe I create. She told me to look around and see the beauty I created. That THIS is what the right man sees. And the right man has already seen the scars that she bares and is not afraid. That he’d see them as tokens of lessons learned, of lessons to become a better and improved version of myself – the real me.

Before I left I gave her haircut, I gave her the same haircut as me. She asked me why because the haircut would open up her face so everyone could truly see her. I told her that the more I look at her, the more I realize its not as bad as I thought it was. That it was time to see her, truly her. She was still healing so I made a hammock-like bed for her and personal “nurse” who wouldn’t neglect her. I know that may seem irrelevant since this is all in my mind. But I’m starting to realize, that it’s time that I take care of myself. This is the first step.

She had said that the process of integration would be long. Healing takes time. The more I accept her, her scars, bruises, cuts… the more I’ll understand myself and the more I accept myself — the more I’ll love myself. I can’t change past, but I can learn to accept it and learn from it — to realize it is a part of me.

Maybe this type of healing is supposed to be done in therapy or some psychological institution, but I do believe as my good friend has told me that all the answers come from within.