by Motavenda Melchizedek

It is a such a strange and viscous cycle that ensnares me. And there are
different things mixed up inside it. And I am trying to become free.

I feel so many mixed feelings about my life, my destiny and my power.

I have traveled for so long with this focus and it seems now that it has led me
nowhere. There is this strange contortion of myself that I have somehow become
inside of this box.

I look through endless pages of writing and I want to burn everything. I
want to forget it all. Cut it loose. Because I haven't found a way to say what
I need to say. And what I have written so far is all about being ensnared.

I am not alone in this arena. There are others. We are trapped in
similar ways. It seems like it has to do with openings. Finding openings and
not finding openings. I have not yet seen that I have the power to affect

You know right now I don't even know what makes me happy.

I don't know what my dilemma is about really. It has to do with me and the
world. And me feeling like I can't be who I am in the world. That I know
things that I am not allowed to know in this world. I keep letting the outer
world determine whether I can own my own view with confidence. I ask the world
one by one to accept me. And when I am met with rejection, which I invariably
am, for some part of me they don't understand or agree with, I am devastated and
thrown back into the trap and ensnared again.

It's what I have done with those I have loved. It's what I have done with my family.
With my mother. With everyone who can't see me. I spiral into this sense of
entrapment. Like I have to live underneath them. Like I am trapped inside
their world and I can't become who I am until they see me and allow me there.

It is very much the infant in me. The little tiny little girl. This is how she
felt. It is how she feels now. It is like I am this tiniest of creatures in
the arms of whomever I happen to be with. Open, totally open, and then they
become my mother. They reject some part of me and I feel this craziness. This
overwhelming powerlessness in the face of their view of me. I feel no option.
I feel like a BABY! No mobility, no strength to leave. It's like I haven't
developed into even a toddler who can crawl away and know I have a choice. I
can not walk. I can not speak to defend myself. I can not go away into another
world and decide on something else. I feel stuck with it. And I become
desperate and completely overwhelmed.

There is nothing for me to do but cry and try to get someone else to hear me.
Someone who might help me. And rescue me from my mother. Or make her see.
Make her evolve to love me.

I was so pure. A pure pure baby.

That is what my lover whispered. "You are so pure." And then he too abused me.

You know it is so strange that I have never seen this dynamic clearly. I have
lived it again and again. But only now do I get it. I need to show up for
myself. I need to take the tiniest purest me that I have laid in the arms these others and carry her away.

I am so embarrassed.

It is very hard for me to know how publicly I have acted this out.

I try to explain it. Why it is I speak to issues of abuse. Try to explain it to all the wrong people.
And they are so appalled in the face of my confusion about my work.
They reject that squealing, crying, helpless child. They say I need to heal. That I need
to accept what happened to me...that there is a reason for everything. I need
to get over it.

And I don't want to. I don't feel like that is the answer to my question here
on the earth. I have come to talk of the devastation of the soul. I have not
come to accept it. To make light of it. To move past it like it was some kind
of spiritual exercise. I can be attacked this viscously by my own mother and
not be affected? Why on earth would I be here to say that?

This is the argument I get into with the "spiritual" ones. And I have been the
voice about it more than I want to be anymore. I have tried again and again to
inject my viewpoint into their world. By coexisting there with them. And there
is no place for me. This is the cycle of rejection I am in with my work and the
"metaphysical" world. Perhaps this is the pure spiritual child in me too.
Perhaps I have been reaching out to these people from the beginning hoping they
would be the ones to see with me. But they have not. In fact, most of them are
more powerfully rejecting of my plea than I can say.

I have felt stuck. So stuck with knowing what I know and trying to explain it.
Trying to say to the world that this is going on and we must address it because
it is too much. It is too deeply evil. And I have played it out again and
again trying to feel it for everyone. Trying to impact the collective psyche by
feeling it. By embodying the horror. It's like I am inserting it into the matrix
of our collective emotional body. I am there screaming IT HURTS!!! STOP
IT!!! I know it might sound crazy, but that is what I have been doing. I've
been trying to single handedly raise the collective awareness by experiencing
the pain and feeling it. Consciously. Because the masses won't.
And I believe that if they only felt or even just knew what it felt like they would get it
and it would stop. Once and for all.

But there is something very deteriorating for me in this task. I become
ensnared and I become contaminated by them and the whole process of swinging
back into the wall. Of slamming against it trying to make an impact by feeling
my devastation for them to see. They don't want to see it. That is what my
sisters tell me. They are happy and they don't want to see it.

I am bleeding on the floor. I am absorbing their world into me through the open
wounds. And I begin to feel this horrible place I have there. I feel the seat
I am assigned. It is so fucking awful. I feel like I am strapped down into an
electric chair. And they all, everyone of them, drool waiting for the clock to
strike. I plead in self defense. I AM INNOCENT! Oh, that is pathetic to
them. Ridiculous...but deep down they wonder. Could she be? But that voice
inside them is faint. Because it is the voice of their own purity that they
barely know anymore. And they feel the hunger. They want the surge of power
they will feel when they destroy me....It is more immediate. It's right there
in front of them. And they are hungry for something that will make them feel.

My wound is the wound of the mother. Pluto moon conjunction. My mother sits
right on my power. What is it that she has taught me that must now be undone?

I am a baby. A pure child. Innocent. Full of light. Full of knowing. And I
am in her arms. She can not see me. She can not know me. She can not stand
me. Holding me makes her know how unsafe the world is. She decides to shut me
out. I become a card board doll. She holds me still because she has to. And
it's not as hard holding a card board doll.

I lay there. I can not believe it. I am too small to have a voice that she
will listen to. I look at her. Her eyes are empty. She is a shell. There is
no feeling coming from her. Why would she feel anything about me? I am a card
board doll. She carries me around until she doesn't have to anymore. She feels
nothing for me. She goes about her business. There are chores to do. An angry
husband to fear. Other children crying. She moves across the surface of her
life. And she is succeeding.

And I am there too. Trying to figure out how on earth I will survive this.
Screaming deep inside because I have now learned the penalty for screaming out
loud. It will not be tolerated. Only my father is allow that pleasure. And he
indulges in it and in other things we will not speak of.

I am alone. I am silenced. Yet my silence only amplifies the voice inside me
screaming. There is no tolerance. I am not allowed ever to say how I feel. To
tell her that I am not a card board doll. I am not allowed to tell her how
scared I am to have a shell for a mother. She does not want to know. And when
I love her, she knows. So I am not allowed to love her. Not for very long.
Only when she lets her guard down. And forgets that I am there.

I do not know anything beyond this world that I have been born into. I vaguely
know there are other worlds...billions of them...but right now I am too afraid.
I am stuck. I am ensnared in her world. I am so confused by it. I can only
feel hollow. Which makes me want my mother, even if she is a shell. It makes
me cry even if I am punished for it.

I go away. I go to the farthest edge of this world that I can find. And I try
to live there. But I can't. I am still in it. No matter where I go. I am
still here. In a world that has no place for me. In a world where I am not
loved or wanted. Where I am not allowed to feel. A world where I present a
problem for others. A world where my needs are really annoying and disruptive
to people already dealing with way more than they can handle.

I try to be a shell...but that is just a card board doll grown up. And it
doesn't work. I know how wrong it is. Because I have lived in a world ruled by
one of these creatures. And it is a nightmare world. It is no place for

I decide to self destruct. I decide to get rid of myself. I'm just a card
board doll. It should be easy. But it isn't. I fight back. And I win. I am
stronger than I think.

Now what. I am in the world that I was born into. A shell of a world. A world
without feelings. Where I have lived on the edge now for too long. Where I
have tried not to feel and have failed. Where I have tried to self destruct and
have ended up resurrected.

I am dwelling on the fringe of a world where I am not allowed to be. Yet I am
here existing. I am in a world where feelings are not allowed yet I feel
everything. And what I feel now is how I can not stand being pushed to edge. I
feel how sick and tired I am of dwelling on the fringes of a world ruled by
shells. I am stronger than that.

I am not a card board doll. Even though my mother believes I am. I am not
without feelings. Even though my mother needs me to be. I am a child. Full of
passion. Full of life. I am rich and wonderful. I am the opposite of a card
board doll.

I am in the desert. I have come here to get away from everyone and
everything. It is a dry dry desolate place. At the edge of the world.

And here in this desolate place is a woman grown wanting to be herself.

It is raining outside. I smell the rain. And I feel hope. I feel a mystery
about to unfold.

I am a baby again. A pure child. And a woman. Innocent. Open. Full of
light. Full of knowing. Arriving brand new into this world. Again. I want to
love myself the way that only a mother could love her child. But I am
disoriented. I try to find myself. And I am hiding. I have all the love in
the world inside me to pour forth into myself. But I don't know where I am. I
am hiding from myself.

Hello? Hello? Where am I? Who am I? Will I ever feel safe enough to come

I used to hide all the time to show my mother how I felt. It made her sad and
mad and very uncomfortable. I would hide everywhere and for very long periods
of time. Behind the couch, in the broom closet, under the bed. I would lay
there for hours and hours on end. And she would pretend. Until she couldn't
anymore and then she would plead and then she would get angry.

Why am I hiding now from myself? Am I that unsafe? That cold? What drove me
to hide? Back then I hid because I was afraid and she wouldn't let me tell
her. I was going to the furthest edge of that world and I was hiding there.
Wanting her to care enough to come to me. To listen to me. To love me back into the center of the world.

She never came. She couldn't come. I wanted her to come more than anything
else in the whole wide world. I used every ounce of my power to make her come
and it didn't work.

I hid everywhere that a child could hide. And she never came. She never
wondered why. Why on earth would a child hide from her mother?

A child hiding from her own mother? What kind of a world would that be? It's
too much to stand to think about.

But I had better think about it. Because I am hiding from myself. And the
world. And my mother. Still.

Hey little girl..where are you???

Are you under the bed? Are you in the closet? Are you behind the couch? In
the garage??? I know you are somewhere???? I am looking for you...

I hid to feel my power.

But it left me alone. It was my only form of communication. There was my
mother with her chores moving across the surface of her life. And me hiding.

I beckon to myself. I beseech myself to come forward now.

I am a mystery about to unfold. I will do my job here. I will protect myself
and my purity and innocence. I will be my own mother. I will find a way. I
want to know who I am. I want to hear myself tell me. I will listen to what I
need. And I will give it to myself. Whatever it is. I will find what I need
to become myself fully here upon this earth.

I want a second chance. And I think it is here. I'm starting over.

I am in a new world. And it is safe because I say it is. It is a world where I
am welcomed and invited to reveal my soul and where I am safe from harm. It is
a world where feelings are spoken and no one is asked to be something they are
not. It is mysterious place....unknown and unfolding.....I am afraid, but I
will hold myself and love myself until I am not afraid anymore. Because I
understand why I am afraid. And I will not be a shell to myself. And I will
not ask myself not to feel.

I say all of this but it feels empty.

I have lived through much in this world in this life. It has devastated me. It
has been nearly more than I could handle. It has taken its toll. It has
tainted me. It has left me shell shocked. And wanting not to feel. Wanting
not to say how I feel.

I look out at the happy people on tv. I wonder how I can be happy too. I don't
see the happy people in real life. Just on tv. The illusion makes me know that
it is possible. It's a world of illusion yet it is still another world. I am
trying to change my life from inside of the world I was born into. I am trying to exist
here strong enough to change it into a world that holds a seat of joy for me
somewhere. Where I can come out of hiding. A world where I can be free and
alive and empowered. Where I can love myself again after all this hatred.
Where I will find a way to love myself after all the rejection that this mother
of mine set in motion.

I will do it. Starting now. I will move in a different way through the world.
I will try. I will love myself. Even though I don't really know how. I will
begin today. Like a child learning something brand new. A living breathing
child. With feelings to guide her. I will create something new. A different
world of sorts. Something more than what I was given to live inside of. I want
to know something beyond this world that I was born into.

I will it to be so.

I will take what I was born into and add to it what I have become and make
something better. Something better than a world of card board children with
shells for mothers and endless people pretending it isn't so. And hoards of
coconspirators and handfuls of those willing to admit it who are forever shamed
and condemned to a life on the fringes for knowing.

I beckon to something beyond the beyond...I call out to forces larger than the
ones here. I want my body back. I want my immortality. My beauty. I want my
soul here strong and complete. I want the vision that I arrived here with to
begin unfolding. I want completion. I want exaltation. I want to know the
glory of my own soul. I want to create anything I damn well please...

And it is raining now in the anything is possible...