Where does magic begin?

     As I awoke from what felt like a deep sleep, I found myself in an empty white walled room with a giant TV screen on one wall. There was a stack of DVDs on the floor with all of the titles of movies and TV shows I have loved and watched all of the episodes. A door opens behind me. Roger, a tall, olive skin-colored, man with dark curly hair, and a thick Italian accent steps into the room. 

"Raquel, what are you going to watch today?" 

I turn and look at him. 

"I don't know." I reply despondently. "I don't know if it matters. I am only the viewer."

Roger lifts up a stack of DVDs that he is holding. 

"They are all labeled Rachel's Life. These are all "episodes" or "life events" where you were the main character. Do you remember them? These events? Can you tell me what it felt like to play that role?"

I take the stack of DVDs and sort through them, reading the titles. "I was not the main character in any of these." I chuckle as I hand them back to him. 

"How do you know?" he asks. 

"There were so many people that those stories revolved around. These didn't really have anything to do with me." I respond. 

Roger laughs, "I guess you are not an expert on making movies and shows." 

"What do mean?" I ask.

"The main character is for the viewer, not the actor, Raquel." Roger answers. 

"Ok, so what does all of, this, mean to me?" I ask. as I motion to the TV and white walls. 

"I need you to help me prove to you that you ARE the main character in your own life. Being the main character in the show you want to be in requires many action shots. Document how ever you please, as long as you can review the scenes to put them together. The magic is in each of the moments. How many can you create in a day? What is the image you want for the character?" 

"Where do you want to start?" 

                                                   Photo by Elena Mozhvilo on Unsplash

Meeting Of the Minds

I sit down at my kitchen table and take a deep breath. I have so many things I need to be doing and instead I am panicking about meeting with a group of Deities that I have called upon to help me with this 7 month container. I look up and look at the sliding glass door leading outside to my backyard. I close my eyes and open them again. It has become a solid white door. I look across the table and my spirit guide is now sitting across from me. He motions to the door without saying anything. 

I get up and walk to the door and open it. I step into the darkened warehouse. The light above the conference table is bright. I go to the chair at the end of the table and sit down. I look down at the papers I have brought with me. I look up and all of the Deities are now sitting at the table. I gasp and jump back in my chair. 

The Dagda raises his hand in a little wave. "We move quietly and swiftly, pardon the surprise. You have something in your hand?"

"Yes, I printed the plan for the container so you could better understand and hopefully explain to me how you all can help and support me during this 7 month journey."

"Please read for us." He says.

"Ok, so there are 4 Pillars. Shadow Work, Witnessing, community, leveraged commitment.

The energy dynamics focus is Intentional Action, Consistent vulnerability, Power-with Boundaries, Finance/emotion/time commitment, Ceremonies/Rituals, Generous gratitude action.

The shadow work: "A willingness to open my heart, inviting deities and cohorts as peers, into the heart space. Seeking their support as witnesses and guides, as we call up our old stories, fears, wounds, and the death-life-death journey of the old."

You are the Deities." I stop talking at this point and put the papers back on the table.

All 9 of the OGs, and GOATs stand up.

The Dagda speaks again. "We are doing ....Shadow work. Are you ready for this next step?" He does a "come here" hand motion towards the door.

Roger my spirit guide steps into the warehouse, and walks up to the conference table.

The Dagda turns to Roger and asks: "She decerns you clearly?"

"Yes she hears me clearly. and does well with separating her internal dialogue and myself."

The Dagda nods. "Very well. Thank you."

"These meetings will need to be done while you are alone moving forward."

He sits back down as does everyone else.

There are the golden goblets in front of each of us.

Hygieia speaks first - "The Depth and importance of self care. What we learned at 12 we will learn again."

Erebus speaks next. - "The Fears will rise, your understanding of your past lives helps greatly. "

Itspapalotl raises her goblet- "The dead shall speak."

Aine places her hand on her goblet- "The gratitude is in the details, we will find them."

Ganesh picks up his goblet- "Its luck when you can't hear the whispers. You must silence the mind."

Soteria leans forward in her chair, and clasps both hands around her goblet, but stays silent.

Euphorsyne picks up her goblet- "Finding joy underneath the darkness. Tulips in the snow."

The Dagda touches his goblet-him and Soteria look at each other. He looks back at me.

Soteria speaks up- "I will guide the protection."

The Dagda joins in- "And I am your accountability. We will meet more often than your sister wrote in the plan. We must see progress. We will let you work with your spirit guides to see clearly the goals to be reached by the end of the container."

With a blink of my eyes they were gone. It was just Roger and I at the conference table. We both got up and walked quietly through the door, back to my kitchen. Another deep sigh as I sit back down at the table.

I turn to Roger, "why didn't Caishen say anything?" I ask.

"He did", Roger replied. "You have some work to do in this area. He held up his goblet and said -Moving the stones of desire and fear open the creekbed to the flow of wealth and water.

You couldn't hear him." Roger says.

The Field of Screens Part 1

Conversation with Roger:

Him: "Hello Racqele"

He still has his Italian accent, and says my name in Italian.

Me: "Hi Roger, how are you?"

Him: "I am as good as you." He says with a chuckle.

Me: "Sorry it has been so long since I checked in."

Him: "it has been busy, you have been listening well without need to interrupt."

ME: "Last time I wrote our conversation  down, we were going to start navigating through the field of screens. Did we do that?"

Him: "Oh yes, the Field of Screens. Let us review the path to see where we are. Come with me."

ME: I get up off the couch and follow him down the stairs in the kitchen. We stand on the train platform again. It is no longer Fall in the train station. It is Spring with pink flower petals swirling around. It feels warm and smells like honeysuckle. 

"This is different." I say to Roger. As I am looking around. "It has always been fall when I am here."

"Yes," he says wistfully as he stands here with his hands in his pockets. "This is nice for you to be here at a different time. It is good for the soul. The train is coming are you ready to go?"

"Yes, yes I am."  I say, as I turn towards the tracks.

The blue and white light can be seen glowing in the distance down the track. And before I can soak in the feeling it is here, zooming through the station. 

"Let us go now Racqele," says Roger as he holds his hand for me to hold on to.

We step into the zooming light and off we go. I never stood in the blue light train before, but this time we paused. It feels like water without the wetness. it is thick but not constrictive. 

Roger turns to the left side of the train and steps off, pulling me with him.

We are standing at the edge of a grassy knoll. It is warm and sunny outside. 

"Let us go" he says again and starts walking away from the train. As we crest over the knoll we can see there is a valley down the hill in front of us. the field is filled with the screens. all with pictures or images on them like short movies or picture slides.

We walk until we are in front of the first row. 

"Can you see the images clearly on the screen?" Roger asks.

"No," I reply. "They are very bright. I can see the colors. But that is all."

"It is OK, please close your eyes," Roger says. I sigh, "OK" I respond, and close my eyes. 

"What color did you see before you closed your eyes?" he asked. "Dark Pink," I reply. "With some white rounded lines."

I can feel him pull me over a few feet until we are standing in front of different ones in the same row.

 "I want you to open your eyes and then close them again and tell me what colors you see," Roger says.

I open my eyes and see a dark green green color with the same white rounded lines. I close them again and we move further down. 

"Open them again," says Roger. I open them again and I see static. 

"This is good," says Roger. "You can keep them open now. We will go back to the ones you can see the colors."

We walk back down and stand there looking up at the big screens.

"What can you see?" I ask Roger.

"I see turmoil, money and happiness. Usually work, home and family. and not in that order all the time. 

Let us step into the Field of Screens and go to the next row," Roger says.

We walk past the first row of screens until we are standing at the next row. 

I see all dark muted colors. Brown, blue, maroon. All matte like colors. I tell Roger this.

"Oh yes," he says. "Turmoil again. we shall continue."

"These next few rows are all muted colors. We shall continue through." Roger says.

I look at all the screens as we slowly walk through the field. I can see the colors changing as the images flash on the screen. I need more practice to be able to see things more clearly when I am with Roger.

We are about half way through the field and we stop.

"This is where we are in the field," Roger says. 

"What do I need to do to finish the Field of Screens?" I ask.

He waves his hand in the air. "There is time that needs to pass, and things that need to be completed to continue."

"Like what?" I ask. 

"Well, Racqele you cannot see the screens. we come here more and practice and we will move faster through the screens."

"What happens after the screens?" I ask.

"When you spoke to your Soul, she told you, that is where a new journey begins with another soul. Maybe a boat ride across a lake, or a swim in the water. Or a picnic where you both pause and enjoy the view."

Roger points to my left and waves. there is a woman walking towards us in a long lightweight dress, with her hair in a bun. 

"Hello Rachel, how are you my dear?"

She sounds like my Aunt Arloa. I met her before, it is my Grandma Bertha. 

"Hi Grandma, I am good," I reply. 

"You always have so many questions, but never want to hear the answers." She laughs as she says this.

"Yes, I want to know everything that is going to happen until I can, then I don't want to know." I chuckle as I say it, knowing how silly it sounds. 

"You can ask questions if you have any right now," she says.

A thought flutters through my head, but I don't say it.

She laughs..."yes, you will. If that is a decision you make." 

I didn't even say anything. I say.

"You do not need to." she replies.

"Should I?" I ask aloud, as a follow up to the first unspoken question.

Be so busy you don't have time to question it. Grandma Bertha says.

"Fill you day from sunrise to Sunset, with activity." "This", she motions to the screens "is not of your phone or computer. You built this to help you see more clearly."

"Do all the things you need to, to make sure Roger and I are right there. You keep us away, my dear. Heartstrong too. You have learned well that our help, and guidance does not guarantee perfection, or absence of sadness or loneliness. But if you allow us to lift you up, you will feel the extra strength and guidance we can provide."

"Thank you Grandma." I say quietly. 

"Can I really do all of the things I want?" I ask, little incredulous. 

"Yes, all of them." Grandma Bertha says. "IF you keep your mind body and soul healthy."

"Come talk to me tonight. Let us help you align with what you need to be able to get what you want."

Before I could respond again she was gone. 

I turn to Roger and look at him. "What do we do now?" I ask. 

"Well we are in the beautiful Italian countryside. would you like to see the town?"

Before I can respond we are standing on a cobblestone road in front of a small Italian looking restaurant. I stand in the middle of the roadway and swirl slowly around soaking in the sights all around me. 

"I love it." I whisper.

I turn to Roger. "What do I need to work on?" I ask. 

Trust. Roger says. 

The Search for Heartsong

She climbed onto her horse and adjusted the reins. She was riding out into the woods in search of Shaman woman named Heartsong. The sun shone directly above her, she could feel the horse starting to sweat through his jet black coat. There was no saddle, or stirrups, just a blanket laid across his back. Her ranch was at the edge of the mountains, sitting on the valley floor. It would be cold at the higher parts of the mountains, so she made sure to pack an extra blanket in her backpack.

She had not spoken to Heartsong in many years.  It would be difficult at best to find her in the woods. She thought back to yesterday morning, she was sitting in the diner drinking coffee when her friend Janea sat down and joined her.
 "You know Heartsong is out there" Janea said as she sipped her coffee.
 I looked across the table at her and said "I haven't seen her in years, there is no way I could find her." Janea smiled "If you listen, you can find her. She is quiet, but not so quiet you cant find her if you look". "All right" I said, I will head out tomorrow and see if I can find her". "Where was she spotted last?"
Janea Responded "I'm sure she is among the trees".

As Jack started to trot across the field, her mind started to wander in thought. She wondered what Heartsong would say, would she recognize her. Jack slowed as they reached the trees, the horse and her headed into the woods. She rode all day and into the evening, winding through trees, across clearings, around rock outcroppings. She started to wonder if she could even find Heartsong. She was ready to make a camp for the night and start fresh in the morning. As she headed into a clearing she could see the glow of a fire. She rode cautiously up to the fire. It was Ranger Rich.
 "Hey Rich! What are you doing up here in the woods?"
 Rich said "I heard you might need some help finding Heartsong, so I figured I would come out and scout it out before you got here." She climbed off of Jack and sat down in front of the fire. She was happy to have the company out in the woods.
"Alright Rich, what am I looking for?" She asked. "I have searched everywhere today, I couldn't even find a trace of Heartsong anywhere."
Rich laughed "Rachel to find Heartsong, you have to listen to the sounds of her speaking. It is subtle, you have to listen beyond the clopping of the hooves, and the roar of the wind. It is in the leaves falling, a rock settling further into the ground. That kind of subtle."
"Thank you Rich." She replies. "I will listen carefully tomorrow so I can find Heartsong and speak to her."

The next morning when she woke, she sat still and listened to the sounds around her. Rich had left before dawn, and all that remained of the fire was ash, and coals hiding underneath. She decided not to ride Jack today, she would just lead him. She decided to climb over the ridge so the wind would not be so loud. The sun met her on the ridge and she could could feel the warm glow seeping into her skin. She stopped in a small clearing away from the wind, Jack was not moving around. She closed her eyes and listened.
 "Hello Rachel."
She opened her eyes and looked around, she could not see anyone. She thought she heard someone say her name, but now it might have the whistle of wind.
"What do you want to ask me?"
She kept her eyes closed and tried to focus on the voice. It was so quiet, she could not tell if she was actually hearing it or imagining it.
"Heartsong, is that you?" Rachel asked.
"Yes it is I" Heartsong responds.
"Why don't you speak to me anymore?" Rachel asked.
"The wind, and the sea can over power even the loudest voice, I cannot shout above them." Heartsong replied.
"So you just stopped speaking to me? What if I needed guidance? I feel lost. I thought you had died, and turned to stone." Rachel said.
"I have spoken. I have twisted the wind into words, so you could hear. I moved the waves so they could speak to you. You are not lost. You have always followed the guidance I have given. Even when you did not agree."
"What do you want to ask me?" Heartsong repeated  her question.
"What do I really want?" Rachel asked.
"Freedom" Heartsong replied.
"But what does that look like? How do I get that? How much? When?" Rachel rattled off her questions.
"Freedom to receive love, Freedom to spend your time as you desire, Freedom to write what you want, freedom to speak, freedom to travel, freedom to listen to me. As much as it takes to not make you feel I am made of stone. Now and tomorrow and forever on."
"How does that relate to work? I have bills and responsibility."
"You must listen intently. My wisdom is beyond a job. You must not damage yourself to show proof of listening. You must gently follow what warms the heart. A pot does not boil instantly. A heart does not thaw in a moment. Do not fear change, judgments and expectations from others. Do not fear, fear for others. What makes your heart feel warm? Do that."
"What if lots of things feel warm? What if I cant decide?" Rachel asked feeling perplexed
Heartsong responded  "You need to be gentle, gently follow, one small step at a time. Ask for guidance in the moment. It will help with clarity. It is getting cold out here my friend, you must head back home."
Rachel continued to listen intently, but could no longer her Heartsong's voice. The wind was howling now. Rachel had not noticed the storm rolling in. The air was getting colder by the minute, clouds were dark and menacing, she could feel the wind starting to bite at her cheeks. She heard hoof clops behind her. There was Rich on his horse. "What are you doing here?" Rachel asked. "Heartsong said you might need some guidance back down to the valley. I am here to lead the way." HE was holding a big light that looked like a beacon. It lit up the whole area around him. Rachel climbed on Jack and as they both turned the horses around the rain started to fall. Rich's light shone like a beacon lighting a path in front of the horses, all the way down the mountain. They were both soaking wet and shivering as they started across the valley floor.
"I think you can make from here." Rich said, as he turned and headed home. Rachel waved good-night and headed to the stables. She could here the echo of Heartsongs words in her head. "Gently follow what makes the heart warm."

Just a Picture

As I step into the stairwell, I look around. This stairwell used to feel dark and somewhat foreboding. The walls were dark, just one light bulb hanging from the ceiling, and it smelled of old wood and varnish. I no longer fear the door at the bottom of the stair case. Now the walls are white, with bright flowers painted on them. Raindrop shaped lights are hung from the ceiling all the way down the stairs. The door is still heavy, but it has wooden gate with climbing flowers painted on it, so it feels like you are entering into a secret garden. I walk down the stairs and push the door open. I step onto the platform and let the door fall closed behind me.

I pause for a moment letting my thoughts fall around me. What do I want to know? What are my expectations? What is my brain telling me I should see? I watch my thoughts turn into pictures and float to ground around me, like leaves falling in autumn. My urge is to pick them back up and put them in my pocket. I look up at the blue freight train of energy, light and images zooming past me. I step towards the edge of the platform. I look back at the pictures laying on the floor. I take deep breath, I start to feel naked and lost without holding onto everything the pictures represent. Before I convince myself to go get them I reach my hand out and touch the blue freight train. I zoom along for a few minutes. I feel myself tumbling for a little while. I start to focus on where and when I want to go to. I want so badly to know where my pinnacle of success lies, internally. Where all the parts of my world feel fulfilled. Where my heart feels content, and I feel connected to my heart and my soul. I tumble along further and suddenly fall into an office.

I look around. There are big floor to ceiling windows along one whole wall, looking down over a city. There is a blue couch facing the window. There is a desk in the corner to my left. The walls have pictures hanging on them, but no photographs. there is a round wooden table in the right corner of the room. I look around at the table and desk. There are no calenders or newspapers to look at to see when  I travelled to. I look out the window, there is another tall building almost directly across from the window. I look to left and I can see smaller buildings as far as I can see. There are cars driving on the street. They look like regular cars from here, but I am at least 25 stories up. I look around the room again. along the back wall, opposite of the windows there is a door. I open the door and step into the hallway. there are cubicles to my left, that appear to all be empty. On my right are four elevators. I walk up to it and push the down button. The doors open. The elevator is empty. I step inside and look at the button panel. I click on floor one. As the elevator hums down the many levels, I wonder where time took me? What on Earth am I meant to see here? Where am I? The elevator doors open. The lobby is spacious and vacant. I walk to the doors leading outside. I pull the glass door open and step out onto the sidewalk. I stand there just letting everything soak in. The sun shining, the trees, the cars, the people walking past me. I look across the street, there is a small park area to the left. There is a woman sitting on the bench with a man. I walk down the sidewalk towards her, as  I get closer, I realize it is me. I cant actually tell how much older I am. I don't recognize the man, but we seem close. I don't seem to be able to get closer to her. My legs feel heavy. I look up in the sky. I hear a loud wind sound, I see the blue freight train of energy appear in the sky. It swoops towards me and scoops me up, for a brief second I am floating, then I see the platform and I am standing there again. All of my pictures are still laying on the floor. I watch them all turn to ash except one. What do I want to know? I pick up the picture and look at it. It is a picture of me and the man sitting on the park bench. I smile and put the picture in my pocket. I open the heavy door and head back up the stairs.

The Power

I recently came to an epiphany. A paused moment in time, a second of clarity where I can see everything behind me and in front of me. I need to own the power that I had before. Own it, not relive it. Own it, not redo it. Own it, not accept at face value. I dont want to put this power back on, like an old coat that smells of mold and moth balls. I need to own it, like a vase that you retrieve from the pawn shop. But this time you actually use it to put flowers in; instead of using it as a puke bucket. I need to own the power that I had before. Before I felt used and cheapened. Before I gave away my power because I didn't know I was giving it away. I didn't even know it was something to have. It was an unbridled power that was seeming to harm myself and other people. I was stumbling through time, carelessly abusing what I had to offer. I didn't understand the wounds I was carving, or how I was changing my own timeline. I didnt understand how I was creating the walls I was building. I allowed myself to become broken.  I couldn't rid myself of this power. I convinced myself that this power that I had would be enough to convince someone of the beauty of my soul. And the men that loved this power would eventually love the rest of me. I was wrong. This took me a long time to learn. I tried to shed the power, I ignored it, refused to use it, pretended that it didn't exist. I tried to believe that if the power was no longer there and all that was left was my soul, that the man I had invested my time in would fall in love with me. I was wrong. I know things unfolded for reasons beyond the simplicity of power or no power.

I know now that I need my power. I need to learn to control it and harness it. I need to cultivate the power within myself. I need to have faith that  I will see through the men that simply want the power and nothing else I have to offer.

Blind Date .... Dry run

I went on a blind date with my self tonight. It was an eye opener. First and for most I had to work late, so the date was 2 1/2 hours later than planned. I automatically made the assumption  that the other person would instantly no longer be interested. Which I guess I really do not know. So I got home from work to change my clothes and I instantly started to talk myself out of going. Too tired , nothing to wear. (I was going to Starbucks...alone) Then I go in the bathroom and look at myself in the mirror. I hear the voice saying you look awful, no one is going to want to hang out with you. I look like a mess. I have pimples, my hair is gray, and brown, and blond. Super unattractive. If the voice is this loud going somewhere alone, I cant imagine how loud it would be if  I was actually meeting a stranger. I almost convinced myself I wasn't worth my own time. That is crazy. As I sit and reflect on the evening, I can see that my expectations of myself in this type of situation is unreasonable. I feel like I should magically turn into someone else that this person I've never met will like. I'm caught between not wanting someone to only want to be with me for what I can offer them physically, and still wanting them to find me attractive. As if the idea that someone finding me attractive means they will not see the beauty of my soul.

Alone

How do I say this? I just want to explain this moment of clarity I have. I remember being alone many times during my childhood. I realize now that the first times I was left alone were when my sister went to kindergarten (I was 2) and my mom was.....writing? Still working?.......Not home. I realize now that I correlated being alone with them being together. .....As I got older my sister (no longer in public school) chose to not want to be around me and my mom was.....writing?....Still working?.......Not home. We were home schooled so there's that. I continued to be alone a lot. As I entered puberty and my teenage years I might well have been an alien. My sister was coveted for her strengths and quirky traits. I was normal and left alone. I forged my own path separate and alone from my family. They didn't really notice. Then my sister had a meltdown ...wreaked havoc on my parents and left....leaving a huge mess for me to clean up. I worked diligently to fill the void my sister left behind...trying to build a bond that would not be broken if she returned one day. I grew close to my mom for the first time in my life. 15 years goes by and my sister decides to return into our lives. I feel the bond between them growing and mine shrinking. They are my biggest fans yet I feel suffocated by them. Them as a team. I feel the empty lonely ache return. I reach out to them trying to find proof that I wont be left alone again. Both of their words of wisdom are that I will indeed be alone. for many years. I have many issues, many obstacles to overcome. Many trials to face before I can feel the victorious feeling of having a loving partner. I believe them and feel the weight push me down further. I move to a new town and now my only sounding boards, my only friends, my only fans are the ones that make me feel like I cant breathe. No where to speak my me. Nowhere to post words that might accidentally be turned the wrong way. I realize now they are not the makers of happiness or loneliness. Nor are either of them allowed to judge what I need and don't need. Little do they know...I am not broken, I am not lost, I am not weak, I am not searching for happiness. I have strength, integrity, power, wisdom, honesty, faith, prosperity, happiness, and now I have reclaimed my power over loneliness. I can say that watching the relationship between them blossom has been somewhat painful. I am again lost in background noise. The part that I lost track of though is that the path they follow of traumas, inner turmoil, financial discord, hard lessons learned....is not my path. I have worked hard to have financial security and success. It is not better, just different. I wanted so badly to share my path with someone; that I latched back onto each of them in hopes of finding some strength and security, and like mindedness; that I forgot how different our paths have always been. I forgive my mom for any moments she left me alone and I hold no anger towards either of them for our paths differences. I will say this: being self sufficient, independent, and able to be alone, does not mean I need to be alone or that I deserve to be alone.

The value of me

The struggle is real. How do I sit here and watch my boys suffer because I want happiness? I am struggling to believe that I have value. To be told that that I am worthless because I don't complete enough tasks. I don't do enough things to make the other person feel like they don't have to do anything.

The struggle is real.

 When two people hold different beliefs their worlds will never fit together. One person believes that to have someone show them love is for that person to do everything (clean, cook, plan, organize, etc) for them. While the other person believes that to have someone show them love is for that person to share burdens and tasks, explore ideas, have conversations, build each other up.

It amazes me that even though I am aware of the manipulation, I cant seem to keep myself from getting entangled in it unless I am separate from it. I know the words that are spoken are not true, yet my heart hurts and  I question my own measurement of value in the face of adversity. I can only hope that as I reach for the sky and pull myself out of this hole, I can learn enough to not put myself back in the hole again.

I know I have value. My value is not measured in the tasks I complete. I know this. My value is, or should be measured by my ability to love, my compassion for others, my integrity, my perseverance. I might not be a great housekeeper. In fact; I know this. I do my best. I measure my best against my previous best. I always try to improve the person I am today.

Not lately. Not for the last year. I lost my strength. The struggle against the mental warfare is real. I have allowed myself to be mentally reduced to nothing. Why? I don't know. The imagined greater good. The happiness of others. At some point my children's "happiness" was measured as more important. That is ultimately not what I want them to learn. I don't want them to think that someone else's happiness measures higher than their own. We measure our happiness against our previous happiness. (or at least we should). They have not benefited from the last year of their "happiness".

I will heal. I will become the woman I imagine in my head. I will not allow anyone else to devalue me. I am tired of fighting against the mind games. I need to regain my strength. I don't know how. I am mentally exhausted. I will find my way, find my strength. I will not allow the coldness I feel in my heart to overrun me.