When I met Mr. Highgrade I met him in Jamaica. the details of our meeting is too much for me to write about and not relevant to this post so I will just skip along. We got together and he came to America to live with me and my children, who accepted him under my counsel. For most of my life, it had always been my children and I, so when he was about to come into our lives permanently I had a sit down with them and we spoke and they agreed. We had no idea that we were about to be in for a long ride!
Our meeting was a love story (so I thought, I am a hopeless romantic, I truly am, or perhaps I was just searching for love) and whenever I recounted it to anyone they would Ohhhhhhh, and awwwww while smiling at us finding each other. I felt the same at first and I would tell anyone who asked “why him? That I felt safe! I felt safe with him, I truly did. In hindsight, I never answered “I love him” I always answered that I felt SAFE. I wasn’t quite sure what safe was or meant in terms of being with him, but that was how I felt and how I would respond to any inquiry of our love or relationship. I had made up my mind that I was not leaving him, and whatever the problem was, we would work it out and get through it. I had already cautioned him about infidelity and told him that would be the only reason for me to quickly break up with him. He had assured me that he was not like that, and I trusted him so I believed him. I continued to feel “safe”. Unlike the wicked one read here, he was home every night and I had no reason to suspect him cheating.
I am a thinker, so oftentimes I would ask myself why I attributed the word “safe” to our relationship and said word to my feeling toward this guy. I had no idea, but the feeling was a good one. He began to show himself a couple months after living with us, he was miserable and would erupt into a quarrel which would go on until he felt it was time to stop. This happened a couple of times until we realized that when he was not smoking weed, he had no command of his temper. Ganja kept him in check, I began to dislike him and his behavior and miserable ways. Yet, with all his shenanigans I still felt “safe” with him, and I stayed, I stayed with him. Why?
I still ask myself this question. Why did I feel safe with this man? In my other relationship with the childrens father, although he could be described as the mythical Lucifer himself times 10, and although I would not wish him on my greatest enemy (maybe not true here, deep consideration would be put in as to the level of enemy however, hmmmmmmmm *twisting my imaginary mustache*, hmmmmmm!!) and although he did me so terrible, I wondered what was the trauma I suffered so much that I felt like this, (safe) with this miserable man, who made me see Ganja for the first time as drugs, likened to crack cocaine!
I was the protector for my children, the defender for all whom I loved and cared about, people came to me, in droves to help them and I was/am good at it, I am! I was the one people looked to whenever there was a problem, I was the one who forged on into battle without a thought to me, all thought on the person I am defending, but yet with this total stranger I felt as if I finally had someone to protect me and keep me safe. The word and the feeling bothered me, and I wanted to let go of the feeling, if I could release the way I felt, that feeling of while he was around nobody could harm me or the children, the feeling of “he is miserable, but he will defend us to the death if he had to”. Yes that is how I felt, regardless of any love feelings which I probably did not have for him (I thought so, at first, but have since realized that it was a false reading, lol). He was a defender such as I, and when anyone offended me or even tried to, he would leap to my defense and that of my children. In my life, while growing up, and with the exception of when I lived in Jamaica (my mother loved me then, she was a great defender), no one ever went to bat for me, no one! I had to defend myself and my children once I began having them, I had no one, but myself and God and my non-physical beings. They were all I needed, included my children, but I did not know that.
While I felt safe with him, he felt secure with me, I took care of him, he hardly ever worked, and I never pushed.
After he and I broke up, I began to look into my life and wonder why I had let “Him” in and allowed him to stay so long, and I realized that it was for the same reason, the one which was comforting to me, he made me feel safe. As I am writing this post this morning, I am realizing, that the emotional trauma of being thrown out of my mother’s home, young and pregnant with no where to go, then finding the other the childrens father, whose treatment of me was horrible along with his sleazebag equally wicked family headed by his she devil mother, encountering all these people and going through the trauma of what they all put me through, when this fellow, who I had met showed me kindness and protection and love, I hung on to it like a drowning man grasping at straws. When I met him, he took me everywhere in Jamaica, he paid for everything, ( I was not use to that from anyone, man,woman, beast or child, from I was around it was my money being spent), he was kind, loving and nice. Until the fangs showed up!
This post is not about him, so I do not want to spend time on him, it is about me and the emotional abuse I suffered one behind each other which was pivotal in me making a life decision upon meeting someone and them showing me a hint of kindness. I took his kindness and commanding presence at our initial meeting as something I needed in my life and went ahead into a relationship with him which later fell apart because it was based on a illusion. I was to everybody, what he was to me at first. I needed the roles to be reversed and in my eyes when I met him in Jamaica, it was and I held on to it. It did not and could not last because it was all a dream. I was emotionally Fu**ed up without a clue.
During the time with my mother and the wicked baby father, and other evil people I had met and situations that I had gone through, I tightened my belt and kept it moving, I had no time to heal, or even to realize that I had been wounded.
I have a tendency to speak or write freely anything that bothers me, this blog has helped in my healing, writing about all my situations, fears, likes, compulsions, encounters, acquired wisdom and then some . I did not really want to write about him as I did the wicked baby father, I wanted to forget him and not even open up to you all much about our life together, the memory of me and the life I lived with him is still too fresh and painful. No, not because I miss him or because I Loved him (I now realize that I did not, not in the way it was suppose to be, and I am happily married to my Babalawo), but because I stayed so long into something I knew I did not want from the moment his feet touched American soil (six months after actually), yet I stayed because I did not want to give my enemies the satisfaction of our breakup and I decided that our relationship would work, and I had made up my mind that we would grow old together. It was not to be, and I had no idea that I was emotionally damaged before I met him and he compounded it when he was here, I sat and took it, while healing other people lives. While people thanked me daily for being their rock and strength and helping them with their problems, I was on spin cycle in my own life and no one to press stop. I am very strong, despite everything, I am a strong girl!
The following I got from the link below, and most of what is said is so true on my account.
Emotional and psychological trauma is the result of extraordinarily stressful events that shatter your sense of security, making you feel helpless and vulnerable in a dangerous world.
Traumatic experiences often involve a threat to life or safety, but any situation that leaves you feeling overwhelmed and alone can be traumatic, even if it doesn’t involve physical harm. It’s not the objective facts that determine whether an event is traumatic, but your subjective emotional experience of the event. The more frightened and helpless you feel, the more likely you are to be traumatized.
While I was with him, I felt numb, disconnected, and I still have trust issues, (but thank God for spirits trust issues in not really a factor spirit tells me everything), all signs of emotional trauma, this was so with all that I went through, the numbness and feeling disconnected.I have a fear of rejection to this day. If I call someone and they do not answer or return my call, I begin to worry if I have offended them, this is real. If I post a comment on my own site, and no one responds to it, I begin to worry if it is too offensive, often times my higher self would speak to me and tell me to relax and I do, but I do fear rejection, I am a work in progress!
This makes me not have friends and I do not socialize, the computer is how I reach the outside world, yet still I realize that my communication through the computer is not reality, and I am mindful not to get lost with the use of this medium, replacing people with it !
Can you all understand me? Can you relate? am I making sense? Did I over share? Do I seem weak to you all now that I have shared my inner most personal thoughts with you (as if its the first time!)? (scrap that question this chick ain’t never weak!) should I remove this post? Am I a lunatic? (I like the word lunatic, lol) Do you all still love me? (no pressure to say yes, but bare in mind the trauma if any of you say no!) Do I need to lay on Yw or Ty’s couch?, all jokes aside can any of you relate? Huh Can you? Huh? Huh?, Huh? please say yes and nuh mek mi tink sey ah me alone mad enuh! Yazzy come on!
Ojú tó ti rí òkun, ò lè bẹ̀rù ọ̀sà mọ́. /
Whoever had experienced the seas would no longer be moved by the lagoons…..Yoruba Proverb
[Challenges do empower]
All religions are valid as long as it teaches peace and love…..Obara Meji!
There are no disappointments in life, only lessons learned…..Obara Meji