Leah lost her will to live.

Her last plummet into darkness was just more than she could bear. She lost her will to live. There was no more strength to fight with. She spent a lifetime screaming and begging for someone to understand that is was getting harder and harder to climb out of that damn black hole. It kept sucking her back in.

She tried so hard to be wanted. She knew she was needed. Everyone wanted her to meet their needs at the drop of a hat. Who cared that her illnesses were ravaging her body a little more each day that went by. With heat searing down her legs, toes curled and locked into never ending cramps and tears pouring out of vacant eyes, they demanded their needs be met – now. She told them over and over that she was rapidly losing her will to live. She lost count of the serious suicide attempts. They didn’t even remember how fragile she was becoming. No one heard her crying out. More likely, they just couldn’t be bothered to care.

Every friendship ended because during her times in the black hole, she had nothing to give beyond the demands “they” made. She tried to find the strength to reach out but the words were lost.

There had been too many losses during the last six years. On bended knee, she pleaded for someone to just hold her.

When she decided to stop fighting, the black hole became a place of comfort rather than fear. It enveloped her providing her with the love and warmth no one else seemed to have for her. She stopped fighting the hole whenever it would call out for her. She welcomed the darkness and the peace that the hole provided. She didn’t think about those people. If they could not be bothered to hear her screams then why should she care anymore – about anything.

She spent eight days on life support last August. She fought their efforts to keep her alive. They tried every day to wean her off the vent. She almost won the battle. She begged the black hole to not let go of her. She longed for the day in which her body and soul would be free of pain. She longed for it and dreampt of it often. Every day they would turn the vent off in hopes she would breathe on her own. If only they had known how hard she was fighting their efforts. How could they know of her desire to be set free? No one else listened to her cries. Why would strangers listen? She wanted them to give up on her. Let her go. Let her find the joy she yearned for. She didn’t even care what happened to people after they took their last breath. On the eighth day, they defeated her. Her body betrayed her once again. When no one was looking, she sobbed uncontrollably. She thought about her suicide attempt in 1996 when she took enough pills to kill a horse. Her boyfriend and roommate read her suicide note and saw the empty medicine bottles. They left her on the couch and went on about their busy lives for three days. She was near death and barely breathing. They did not even call for an ambulance. There was no effort to save her life. After eighty plus hours of being on the brink of death, her body betrayed her by forcing her lungs to breathe, her heart to beat strong and her eyes to open. Her boyfriend welcomed her back and changed the channel. Their decision to not help her just reinforced the fact she was worthless.

She thought back to her second serious suicide attempt when she was eighteen. Her father was enraged because he had to get out of bed to retrieve her from the hospital. He asked her how she could be so selfish. Didn’t she know he had to go to work the next day and he was forced to get out of bed in the middle of the night just to pick her up. He never asked how many stitches it took to stop the blood from gushing out of both wrists. His only concern was his interrupted sleep and what an inconvenience she was. This, from her father. He was supposed to love her. Wasn’t he?

With every failed attempt her family found a way to reinforce the belief that she was worthless. With each failed attempt, she came to hate God more and more for not letting her die. Didn’t He know how worthless she was. Didn’t He care about the excruciating pain in her soul. If he really were a loving God, wouldn’t he let body leave the hell which consumed her every waking moment. If God didn’t care about the agony she was in, how could we call him a loving God? Maybe it was just her that He didn’t love.

One loss after another with no one to hold and comfort her, the spirit which dwelled inside her started dying. At the age of 53, she decided enough was enough. She packed her suitcase, walked out the door and never looked. 

I will never look back. I am finished being a doormat and servant. I will no longer allow you to abuse me. I will no longer give someone a piece of my heart if their only concern is themselves. I will no longer allow you to push me towards the black hole. I will no longer allow you to destroy new (or old) friendships because you pushed me into the hole. You know I stop communicating with the world when I am locked away deep inside the hole.

I am sure I have lost the two newest people in my life. I found them on WordPress. I made a commitment to one of them who is trapped in a black hole. He needed me but not in the way the others do. He made me feel wanted and cared for. Get your mind out of the gutter. It is not a romantic or sexual love between us. We had become brother and sister. I let him down. I stopped being there for him and I would rather die than cause him pain. I know I have hurt him deeply and I don’t know if he will be able to forgive me. He had become the joy in my life. He made me smile. With hundreds of miles between us, he gave me the hugs that no one else would. He doesn’t even know of the pain and hopelessness I have been living for so damn long. He lives with enough of that himself. I don’t want to burden him with my crap.

I know I have hurt the person who introduced me to the person Who stretched his arms hundreds of miles to hug me. I came to love her deeply. If she chooses to read this, she will know I am speaking of her. She has changed my life in a way she will never grasp. She is THE one who gave me the courage to start changing my situation. She doesn’t have a magic wand therefore the change would not happen over night. I had to go back to the black hole one more time in order to examine my life and decide who could stay and who had to go. I separated from my husband. I have been searching the corners of the world for six years looking for the courage to leave him. SHE helped me understand that courage came from within. Look no more. It has been inside of me all along. She helped me understand that I am not obligated to help or care for anyone who just wants to take from me and give nothing in return to my spirit. I have already reclaimed my power from the ones in this house, not just my husband. If they do not wish to uplift my spirit and encourage me to chase my dream which was buried and forgotten so long ago, then I will gladly help them find somewhere else to dwell. I will never lose a friend again because I allow you to push me into the black hole. You no longer have power over me. I will NEVER give my power away again. I will NEVER allow anyone to make me feel worthless again. If I am not worth your time then you are not worthy of my love.

I may never attain my dream of being an author but if I can make my followers feel something, then I am successful. If my words help just one person find their courage and power so that they may make the changes they dream of, then I am a success. If my words are powerful enough to touch you deep in your soul, then I am a success.

I did not write this in order for anyone to pity me or feel sorry for me. I need support and encouragement. Pity will not help me. I wrote my story so that anyone suffering this kind of pain can see that it is NEVER to late to reclaim your life, as long as you are still breathing, anyway. I may never understand why I did not die all those times in which I hovered so close to death’s door. I only know that for the first time in my life, I’m grateful that I didn’t die. I started cutting at the age of 10. That was 43 years ago and it wasn’t popular then. That was when I started crying out for help. No one listened. (I stopped cutting many years ago)

Sonni,

You heard my cries and you helped me. I will never be able to find the words to adequately describe the gratitude I have for you. You set me on the road to reclaiming my light. I hope it is not to late. I can’t stand the thought of losing you and the light of your spirit which shines so bright. Please forgive me.

Jamie,

You will never begin to understand the depth of the pain in my soul for letting you down. I never wanted to burden you with the crosses I bear. You carry enough of your own without me adding to them. You may never understand just how deeply you have touched my soul. You made me smile every day. You gave me a reason to get out of bed. I knew I would write you therefore I had no choice but to get out of bed. My tears flow freely down my cheeks at the thought of You not forgiving me. Each tear begs for forgiveness as it falls to the floor.

As of June 9th, 2016, I do solemnly swear to never again be a victim, nor will I give my power away.

Hugs,

Leah

Bertha’s Legacy, Jamie’s Future. Do you have the courage to walk with us?

I am not looking for approval. I do not desire a history lesson. I will not approve posts written by haters or trolls. I have not the time nor patience for hate. If this is not a cause you are interested in then you may not want to waste your time reading this post. However, I hope you will find it in your heart to at least hear me out.

If you have read my previous posts then you will already know who Bertha is. If you took the time to listen to the radio show, you will know who Jamie is. If you do not know who Jamie is, please check out his story at
http://www.mynameisjamie.net. If you yearn for a world filled with love, acceptance, equality and peace, then perhaps Jamie’s story will move you like it has me.

Due to side effects from the medication that eases my pain just enough for me to be able to get out of bed, most of the $3 words I once knew are lost to me. Same with my dictionary and thesaurus so please don’t have high expectations of my writing skills!

Sadly, I never had the honor of meeting Bertha. Yet she has been an amazing influence in my life. My mother was raised in an extremely prejudice and abusive home. Her only refuge was in the arms of Bertha, their African American maid. Bertha loved mama as if she were her own. Because of her, mama grew up not living with fear and hatred in her heart. Because of Bertha’s love, my mama chose to teach her children love and acceptance. We grew up with the knowledge that all people are the same. We all put our pants on one leg at a time. We may have different pigmentation or believe in a different God. Some people may not believe in a God. It is not for me to decide that I am right and you are wrong. Each and every one of us have a right to our own belief system, thoughts and opinions.

That being said, I loved and accepted everyone. I was always out to help the underdog regardless of race, color, creed or religion. We all bleed red.

Unfortunately, I grew up thinking that “just not being racist” was enough. What a small and shallow world I created for myself. Then I met Sonni. Boy, has she opened my eyes! Thank you, WordPress. In a very short time she has taught me so much. Thank you, Sonni. Sonni introduced me to Jamie. His story is tragic and one that happens far too often. I knew nothing of the prison system until I started reading her blog about Jamie. I had no idea of the cruelty and neglect that runs rampant in the prison system. I used to think that all or most prisoners deserved to be there and never even thought about the conditions. There are hundreds of thousands of men and women who have more than paid their dues. Many who could not afford an attorney were frightened into taking a plea deal, often giving them far more time than a jury may have. Jamie was told that he should take the seventeen years being offered because a jury would likely give him 99 years. Of course he opted for the deal. Black men in Texas don’t get paroled. They serve every day of their sentence. I bet many states are the same. My mom worked for the local District Attorney’s office and can tell you stories about how black men and women almost always serve three times the amount of time than that of a white person who has been charged with the exact same thing. Tragic. Unjust. Fundamentally wrong.

The rapist who lives in my neighborhood served eight years for brutalizing a woman. Jamie is serving seventeen years for being in the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong person. He is not a violent man. On the contrary, he is a gentle spirit. He is the father of one of Sonni’s grandchildren. She knows his story inside and out.

If someone had told me six months ago that I would be writing to an inmate, I would have told them they were crazy. If they had told me I would come to care deeply for and love a prisoner, I would have told them they were insane. I love Jamie very deeply. Not romantically. I am married and almost twice his age. Jamie has become my brother and I am now his sister. I am not going to give you details here as I so desperately want you to read his story for yourself, with an open mind and loving heart. I’m sorry for being redundant. Ah, I found a $2 word.

“Bertha’s Legacy, Jamie’s Future” is an organization I am creating in order to bring black and white people together in order to fight for justice and equality. Contrary to popular belief in this country, those two things do not exist. This is not and will not be “my” organization. Each and every one of us will have ownership. We will stand together and walk side by side. We will be one voice. I am looking for loving people who honestly want change to walk this journey with us.

DO YOU HAVE THE COURAGE TO WALK WITH US?

Let me remind you, no racist, hateful or hurtful comments will be approved.

Thank you for taking the time to read about Jamie and the dream he has unknowingly inspired me to reach for.

Hugs,

Leah

I have started a group on Facebook called, “Bertha’s Legacy, Jamie’s Future”

It is bare bones right now. I will be adding posts on a regular basis. It is a closed group so it will be off limits to haters and trolls. I will not allow hate or disrespect at all. Zero tolerance. We may not always agree. We may feel differently than someone else. There is ALWAYS a way to explain your belief system to someone else with love and respect. I hope that you will by, even if you just want to say hello, give encouragement or just lurk for awhile.
Hugs,
Leah

David Snape Show 2 (4.4.16)

Reblogged on WordPress.com

Source: David Snape Show 2 (4.4.16)

 

Please take the time to listen to Sonni’s interview. You can fast forward to 1:26:00 where the interview with Sonni starts. Please take the time to listen and spread this around the internet. Most people have no clue and many won’t care. How would you feel if it were your relative?

I still don’t know how to do this properly so please forgive me, Sonni.

This was originally published by Sonni Quick,  on her blog, “My Name is Jamie”.

The Dumbing Down of America

You have taken the words right out of my mouth! I agree with every single word. This is a MUST read unless your brainwashing is complete.

Thank you so much for sharing your insights.

Hugs

Sonni Quick

Dumbing down of America Source credit: Theatlanteanconspiracy.net

This is the 4th time I have tried to write this post. The problem is knowing there is a significant percentage of people who are so susceptible to being manipulated into believing what they are told to believe even to the point of their own destruction. It’s mindblowing. When I read comments people make about politicians and who and what they support, it is a direct reflection of the garbage spewed over and over on mainstream media. Tell people what you want them to believe often enough and it becomes truth. Then the people will indignently insist it is the truth. The people behind the curtain laugh at how easy it is to get the citizens to believe what you want them to believe. People will believe the stupidest things.

In our next US presidential election people still actually think the person elected has the power to…

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To be (married) or not to be (married)

I really hope I stopped this thing from showing up on Facebook. If not, my husband’s relatives may just let him in on my secret before I am ready to share it with him.

I love my husband. I just don’t think I can be married to him any more. I have talked to him countless times about the problems we have in our marriage but nothing EVER changes. I am just so tired of things not changing.

My 71 year old mom has permanent legal guardianship of my nephew and they live with us. She receives no support of any kind. She is on social security and I am disabled. She and I do not bring in enough money to support the three of us.

The biggest problem I have in my marriage is financial. My husband is a truck driver. He is an extremely social person. Nothing wrong with that except he has to stop at truck stops every hour or so and will hang out for a good little while just chatting with folks. It causes him to get less loads than all the other drivers so his check along with mine and mom’s are not quite enough to pay the bills. Every time I get close to being caught up he gets “sick” and has to take a few days off. I want to pull my hair out. He does this EVERY December. He has now been out for ten days. Tomorrow’s check might be $150.00 and there will be no check for the next two. I spend every December scrambling to find the money so I can get gifts for my nephew. He is a great kid. Never gets in trouble. Makes A-B honor roll every report card. He has good manners. We NEVER have the money to buy him things other than birthday and Christmas. His birthday is on November 22nd. So unfair.

That is just the tip of the iceberg. I am probably an asshole for sharing this with the world but I really need some suggestions. My pain makes it impossible for me to work unless there is some legit work from home job out there. My doctor visits and meds cost a fortune. I feel so damn stuck. I would rather die than loose him because I don’t have the money to feed him.

I was a workaholic before becoming disabled. I need to find a way to work.

Oh. The biggest problem is that he makes my nephew feel like he can’t do anything right. He raises hell at him for things like forgetting to take the trash out. Come on. He is 13. I have to do right by my nephew. He deserves better.
I am sorry for dumping this on you guys. Please help me with some ideas.

Thank you.
Hugs,
Leah

Back in business!

I am back in business! Old phone completely died. New phone came today. I am so excited to be back! I have missed you guys. I have a lot of comments to go through and i am still trying to learn how to use my new phone. Lots of people to respond to and bad pain today so please be patient.

Hugs,

Leah

In which I tell you how your religion works

This post is so much better than mine! Regardless of how you feel about the refugee situation, please read this. I love this post.

Infinitefreetime.com

christianity_versus_other_religions_blog-horngsawI am not a Christian.  That fact has probably been perfectly clear for a very long time; it doesn’t take a whole lot of reading around here to figure it out.

What may be less clear to non long-time visitors: Chances are I know way more about Christianity than you do.  Is that a guarantee?  No, not at all.  But most of you don’t have a Master’s degree in Biblical studies.  I do.  And I got it from one of the best divinity schools in the country.  So chances are I know more about Christianity and Western religion in general than you do.

I’ve been thinking about Jesus a lot in the last few days.  Maybe I should go full wanker here and call him Yeshua, or something, to rid him of some of the cruft that’s accumulated over the past 2000 years, but the point is I’ve spent a…

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