Why it was hard to write From Hell to Healing…


So for the past couple months or so I have been writing my post called From Hell to Healing and I have come to the conclusion that it is a two maybe even three part stories. I have written almost 6 pages that have really let go with what I consider is my side of the story. I don’t mention the intervention that happened when I was about to move to Arkansas. I wish I had but well folks I have a block on my mind from that area of my life. What happened when I flew out of Arkansas traveling back to the Northwest has been a question in my mind for the past two years. My mom occasionally asks me if I remember flying in. I answer yes. I remember coming in with my then two year old son. I remember the stop to Dallas that made me wish I had more time to think about what I could have done differently. I remember my mom’s friend picking us up from the airport. I remember our first meal back was from the drive thru of good ole McD’s. I remember going through the tunnel out of SeaTac and not breathing for the few moments hoping that my wish of a new start will come true. Did he ever love me? Was it ever real? Could he make my life even more miserable than it already was? Would I make it out here? Than the fainting thought of was I a good mother hanged from my mind? It was all jumbling in my head. I didn’t realize that we had traveled North and I couldn’t recognize the lack of Seattle lights. Where were we? My son fell asleep in his car seat. I wonder what was going through his young mind. All I knew was God was coming back and I was ready to go. I had made up my mind I was going home to where I could not feel any more pain or anxiety. The Father promised me that it was time to let go. I remember the hazy dream I had days before our flight. Was it the tiredness, stress, and anxiety talking I will never know. I felt God telling me that it was over. My fighting would soon end. My trying to prove myself was coming to a close. It was finished!

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