Allow me to start this blurb by saying I have no idea why, but I feel it is of the utmost importance that I write it down. I can’t explain it, and I don’t know if I feel it is necessary for me alone or for the entire world or even just for a few people to read. All I know is that as soon as I was rescued and my eyes were opened, I ran to grab the computer… and that something deep inside me compelled me to write. That being said; I shall begin.
Have you ever had a nightmare so real you find yourself shaken to the core? All nightmares are horrific, sure, but I am talking about a different brand of nightmare. I’m talking about the kind of nightmare that is so think, so oppressive, so real it makes even your physical body sweat, and tremble, and the worst thing about this nightmare? You cannot wake up!!!
Unfortunately, I know all about this brand of nightmares and just a few hours ago, I was visited by one of the worst I have ever had. Now, don’t worry, I won’t get into all the gory, horrifying details (I think some things are meant only for the self.) But I will say this. Once the standard nightmare made the transition; my whole body felt pinned down (not in the dream, in real life) I couldn’t move, couldn’t really think straight and I was scared; point in fact, I was terrified.
So I did what we all try to do when nightmares assail; I tried to wake up. And for a moment there, I thought I had succeeded. I thought I had woken up at my mom’s house (not that I had even put two and two together mind you and realized that I had slept in my bed at home, next to my hubby all night, but I digress) and as I had been so mortified by the whole dream, I ran downstairs to tell her all about the dream and how scared I had felt. But when I walked into her room and started telling her the tale, she simply looked at me with empty eyes and began complaining about how old and ugly and out of place she was (by the way, if you have ever met my mom, you know neither of these things is even remotely true as she is stunning and livelier than most 30 year olds).
The second my “fake mother” said those words, the fear tried to grip me even tighter. But something strange happened then. The second I realized I was still in the nightmare, fighting for my life, a dormant part of me became alive. And she was calm, and collected, and strong, and she was ready to kick some butt. So, I turned away form my fake mom, and started to make my way toward the door when out of nowhere, two demons (there really is no better way to describe the ugly, insignificant things) came at me teeth bared and claws at the ready. Little did they know, however, that they were no longer dealing with a freight little Sapha. Oh no, this time, they were dealing with me! And so I easily disposed of them. It was a lovely feeling; knowing that I was protected. And that was the thing. See, this “me” knew she wasn’t alone; she knew she meant something, was something more than met the eye. This “me” felt the presence of God all around her, and declaring herself to be a daughter of The Most High, she simply disposed of the evil around her. And then, I took one look in the mirror, and saw ME. Not the self I have seen in pictures or in mirrors since I was a kid. No, this was I, and she was beautiful, and strong, and fearless, and she made me smile. I could have stayed there a while, talking to her; in fact I wanted to. Wanted to ask her why she was so different from “me” and what she thought, felt, etc. But no sooner had I seen her that we (both the reflection and the woman moving through this nightmare with authority) were off.
We made our way out of the room where the demons had once tried to assail us, and into what seemed to be the very core of my brain. It was a strange place, and got even stranger when we screamed at the very top of our lungs, “Enough!”
The whole room (or brain, or whatever it was) reverberated with the sound. “Enough!” we yelled again. “We will no longer cower in fear, nor will we hide from our selves, nor will we demean our selves or feel bad for ourselves.” Then more “mes” came around every corner of the brain and stared in shock. “We are enough! We are protected by God himself and we are no longer going to bow to the demons that assail us; they will run before us because we are protected. We are not petty, insignificant beings. We are protected. We are beautiful, strong gifted, talented, and we are protected.”
Then at that moment, a feeling of need overcame me. I felt I needed to write about this. I didn’t know why, it made no sense, but I needed to. So I tried to wake up again, and found I was still unable to completely come out of the dream, so I tried to cry out for help, but all that came out was a small whimper. But that whimper was heard by my husband, who ever so kindly woke me up, and hugged me until I had finally rejoined the world of the living again. He smiled gently and then went about his morning business as I ran for the computer to write this all down before I forgot (as we tend to forget dreams the second we wake up). I went for the computer in order to write this with no particular purpose, but knowing there was one I could not see. So if you are reading this and have been helped by it, then I am glad. If you read it and gained nothing, that is ok too. I don’t know whom this message is intended to, but I had to write it down. Now I have, and I am glad I did; for myself.
I would never want to forget that I am protected, that I am loved, that I am beautiful and strong and that I am done with misguided perceptions of myself. I am done!
If you read my very first blog. Then you know I have had quite the year, and that I have been fighting to change my perspective of myself for the better. You know that I have been fighting the eating disorder self and have been replacing it with a different outlook.
Well, the battle rages on inside me, and I am well armed. I am no longer a victim of “perception” I am simply ME. If the media thinks I am too fat to act, let them. If the world thinks I am weak and insignificant, let them. If I had forgotten myself along the way, no more! I remember now. I remember even more clearly than I did the day my angel showed me so much more than I knew. It was her guidance, and all that I learned that day that made the “me” in the dream that strong, that beautiful, that lively, and that “ME”.
Too long have I been ruled by others’ perceptions of me and the world around me. Too long have I forgotten that I am protected and that I matter. Too long have I forgotten the “me” inside. So, once more I cry out, “Enough!”
And when times come, where I begin to forget again, I shall count on God to send me angels, nightmares, etc. to wake me up again. It is all a part of the journey, and I am open to grace, so I am ready to take this journey where it may lead me. Are you?
"It is better to conquer yourself than to win a thousand battles." Buddha