I usually post in great detail the events of an experience. Today I experienced such great breakthrough that cannot really be explained in plain language, so I thought I would try something new.
There I was again, playing in the mud. It was as if I had dug up old smelly dead cats and started playing with them. Entertaining thoughts dragged me back into that mud. It was ugly, smelly, slimy. I didn't want to be in the mud, but it had almost become home. It was comfortable. Everywhere else that I tried to go, I made mistakes. I would force myself to stay away from the mud, but I was so afraid. Lies. I thought the mud was where I belonged - without hope, without destiny. No one special. I covered up fears and hurts until today. Today. They bursted forth like a cork shooting out of a wine bottle. Cascades of tears flowed. It was beautiful, glorious, and painful. But that's when he came to me, when I knew I was helpless, and when I knew I couldn't do it on my own anymore. He held my face and showed me that he loved me no matter what. It wasn't about the things I said or the things I did. I just never belonged in the mud, never ever. He picked me up, and he held me. He saved me and he healed me.