“This is why I clamp down my jaws right now.
Someone says my name,
Trying to lure me into the battleground.
I don’t take the bait.
In the midst of wishing away the noise,
I hear the word, “Bless.”
I am too fragile a messenger
to shed the light myself.
Too easily tempted to let fly
words that will flay the soul
rather than heal.
And the Presence
touches my shoulder.
A gentle touch.
‘You don’t have to be.
In fact, just now, when you
didn’t speak but inwardly
blessed, you became more
your true self
and less of the other that you
so dislike.'” – Leanna Glenn Markham
A Little Me Was Lost
Fiction. Based on a True Discovery of Self.
by Annabelle Lennox
This journal entry is inspired by true events. Some of the characters, names, businesses, incidents, and certain locations and events have been fictionalized for dramatic purposes. Any similarity to the name, character or history of any person is entirely coincidental and unintentional.
Trigger Warning: our program often motivates people to discuss their trauma. If you find yourself feeling overwhelmed, please, take a step back to address emotional flashbacks and trauma before continuing to push yourself. If you are experiencing a medical emergency, call 911 or the National Suicide Hotline at (1-800) 273-8255.
I have learned so recently that I lost parts of my soul. I didn’t know, specifically, that you could lose parts of yourself that way. Last night, I had a beautiful dream. Part of my soul came back to me. It was a little tiny version of me. She was so sad, and so scared, and was crying so hard. Her little messy pigtails. Her cute little dress and saddle shoes. She was maybe 2-3. The same age as my little warrior I made in my body. But it was me… I found her. She is with me again. I don’t want to lose her. I feel more whole this morning. There are so many pieces I still have to find. But now, now I know that I can. I can find me. I can put me back together. I will be the version of myself I have been longing for. In my dream, I knelt down, and somehow with my essence, she knew it was safe to come home. On my knees, I stretched out my arms ready to embrace her when she was ready to come to me. She did. I enveloped her in my arms and hugged her tightly but gently. I embraced her whole being and she relaxed. Even in my dream, I could feel her little fragile and fierce body relax on my shoulder. Just like my little warrior does, but it was me. My little self melted into my big self.
I am so relieved she is back.
Transformation is what I am looking for. It is not easy. There is work, in the work of sifting through the pain. Through the memories. Through the agony. Through the missing parts of my life’s timeline. It takes time, and I am on the right path for sure. I am not forcing things. I don’t want to be scared anymore.
I will continue to move forward in my trauma work. There is light now. Not at the end of the tunnel. Or the end of the day. Or with the full moon. There is light. I am the light. I am MY light.
I am good. I am kind. I am love. I am light.
I breathe into the universe my pain, and it transforms it and gives it back to me clean, less convoluted, and I feel less fearful. Each day, though, I must conquer the war within my mind that sends me down rabbit holes that I no longer need to be roaming in. I want to be free…
It was a little, tiny version of me. She was so sad, and so scared, and was crying so hard.
I am so scared and sad. I am the little girl and I just found me. I have been the little one trying to find the “host.” I am in fractals and trying to restructure.