Abusive father. Broken home. Divorce. Start over: Wedding. Abusive step-father, round two. Innocence stolen. Self-destruction, starvation, numbs the pain. Find religion, not God. Emptiness remains. Rape. Razor blade to arms becomes my voice. Shows my pain. Give up on God. Find Hell disguised as Love. Inpatient. Canada. Return six months later. Domestic violence. Rape. Divorce. Relapse. Suicide. At the end of myself. Nowhere left to go but on my knees. God answers. Cautious, but willing – I surrender all. Find Life. Hope. Finding Freedom. Healing. God’s purpose for my pain. Reach towards Him like a child. Say, “up, Daddy, up!” And He lifts me higher.

At first I was unwanted, born last, then middle, wrapped in pretty dresses trying to fit some one else’s dreams. Then I struggled, confused, empty, struck with loneliness. Abandoned repeatedly by those that should love me. Grown up before my time, I found a love I didn’t believe could exist. I sought fulfillment, the whole nine yards. Unexpected brick walls, then a brief reprieve of broken sunlight before the sky began to fall again. Lost, loss, longing, agony. Trying, trying, again and again. Spent money, spent time, spent desire. Never giving up, strength in morning, strength in love and hope.