peace, man

It’s a lovely and quiet grey morning. Beyond the window, I see a million things to be thankful for. I’m so fortunate to live here, even though I never though that I could be happy here. I suppose I couldn’t have been happy here, had he not passed. Without him, and the constant stress he brought to the table, life is actually peaceful. The lumps and bumps I’m encountering are just that; lumps and bumps. There is no one here to make them into mountains.

Peace can be a difficult thing to accept. It’s almost like faith. For me, at least. I’ve never known peace, even once, in my entire life. I jokingly tell people that I wasn’t raised on the sunny side of the street. If they only knew what that really means, they’d be shocked. My childhood is one that a sane person would look upon in horror. Even now, when I look back, I cannot believe that was me. From my earliest memories, I was just a tiny adult, maneuvering through crowds of predators as I accompanied my grandparents, who raised me, to one bar after another on a daily basis.

Looking back, it’s almost funny. Almost. But, I learned many valuable lessons and some get me through, even now. I am highly functioning in violent situations, (yet I have panic attacks at the Stop N Shop), which helped a lot when my son was on drugs years back. I know how I’d react with a gun in my face. I stay squared up with God on a daily basis because I know that anyone could take my life any time they pleased. That’s a truth about the world that most people refuse to accept, but their lack of acceptance makes it no less true. I know a lot of things about people and how dark they can be. I also know that I can survive anything, if I have to.

But peace…I am enjoying it. I’m feasting on it. It feels so unusual and good. Some days, I wake up and notice my heart isn’t instantly pounding and it freaks me out! I open my eyes to each new day feeling that part of myself that was always waiting for the next shoe to drop sliding away into wherever God puts our messed up parts. I haven’t been yelled at in 41 days. That’s never happened before. Not one time since I can remember in my whole life. How weird is that? lol! It’s super weird! And it’s super great!

I’ll wrap this up by saying that I am overwhelmed by a sense of gratitude. I’m sorry that he had to die for me to enjoy this, but life happens as it will. I spent a lot of time sharing in his bad karma because I wanted to do the right thing by my boys, as I saw it. Now, I get to enjoy my own karma, that I have always worked hard to keep clean and positive. Everyone receives their due in life. Maybe peace is mine. Or…maybe it was there, all along, but I couldn’t see it through the pain of my life. Either way, I’m grateful to have it. Finally.

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