Where to begin? In the present…or the past? Both have bearing on where and who I am now.

Only one problem…

I no longer know who that person is.

Am I the child who was never good enough, never worth loving, never worth a hug being returned, never worth a kind word that did not have a hidden agenda behind it?

Am I that person that was told that they were worthless, not even worth the air they breathed, a waste of skin?

Am I that person that their own blood kin do not want to be seen with for it would look bad on them?

That person their own child is so ashamed of them that they don’t even want to acknowledge them?

Or am I that person that taught herself Arabic and Urdu well enough to memorize three surahs, in full, well enough to recite them to a woman whose mother tongue was Arabic, and she understood, save for a few sounds that were not in English?

The person who taught herself calligraphy, drawing, painting, and is even now teaching herself coding?

That person who has been gifted with so many talents in art, poetry and writing, yet her works go unseen, her words unread, her voice unheard?

Am I that person whose very being is being torn apart by a soul deep yearning for acceptance, a hunger just once to be seen as herself, not what others try to mold her to be?

Who am I?

Am I the plain, fat, unwanted, unloved, lonely woman sitting in a place that has become little more than a prison for twenty one of her fifty three years…sitting trying to convey the confused tangle of thoughts onto a screen seen through tear filled eyes, her heart breaking?

I swore when I stripped this blog yesterday that I would not post again and risk the pain of seeing how worthless I really am made tangible, but I broke that vow this morning and again right now. But the words are hammering at my heart, seeking to be heard, just as I seek to be heard, seek to validate that I even exist.

I have both read and heard it said that events in our past form who we currently are…but what happens when the mold you were formed in was warped, cracked, twisted by ridicule, mockery, revilement, hatred, abuse, both physical and emotional…by words that cut oh so much deeper than any surgeons scalpel could ever cut, no matter how sharp it was?

What happens when the scars one bears are inside, soul deep…and never fully heal?

Who does that person become who has endured that? Do they have any right to aknowledgement, to caring, to love?

Up until recently, I believed I was unworthy of any and all of that. But I have been gifted in many ways, I am able to translate my dreams, both through my art and my writing, and I am able to teach myself…does that have no worth?

I received an email today, one that, after a day of deep soul searching, resulted in this post, and will result in my returning to posting. The person told me that one of the reasons many of my posts were not being read was not because they were not good, it was because they were so long. They suggested that I write out what I wanted to share first, then, if it was too long, break it down into sections.

So I will try that.

I offer my deepest and most heartfelt apologies to any that I may have offended, to any that I may have misjudged in my view of them as uncaring because they did not always comment. It is very hard for me to see that people are reading and yet do not seem to even think enough of my pitiful attempts to put a “like”.

By the time this post goes up, the other two will no longer be posted.

Thank you all for being patient with me,

marantha jenelle

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About MARANTHA DREAMWEAVER JENELLE

WRITER'S USE WORDS TO PAINT PICTURES ON THE CANVASES OF THEIR READER'S MINDS. marantha d. jenelle/aka 'maradjen'

11 responses »

  1. pattisj says:

    Glad you’re back! The enemy stole your childhood, don’t give him any more of your time. The past is just that, the past. Leave the junk behind and move into the person you were born to be.

    • You are right, Patti, the past is the past, but oh man, it is so hard to try to fill the void that letting go of all of that pain is leaving. No one will ever understand just how hard.

      I plan on reposting the interviews and the prompt responses, but not much of the other things I had before.

      And I am going to take the advice of the one who sent the email this morning, I will write what I want to share out on a separate file first and them copy and paste it.

      But the person said something that has my rather wonky little brain running in circles….

      They said that they “had the posts set up to post at a certain time each day”.

      How is that possible? If you know, could you please explain?

      marantha

  2. Jinx says:

    Never let your identity be judged by how others respond to you. The only identity that matters is who you are in your Savior. What He has done for you and who you are because of what he’s done are all that should matter. I know that’s easier said than done, but that’s the amazing thing about our God. He’s there to help you let go, until you surrender the hurt to Him it will never fully go away. Let Him take it because He is the ONLY ONE who will never hurt you, and will always love you no matter what. He wants to take that pain so you can find true healing once and for all. =)

    • sweetie, thank you so much. you have no idea how much i needed that reminder. i am going through a really rough patch right now and things are a little crazy in my head. it has been a long time since the symptoms hit me this hard and it is taking nearly every coping skill i have just to keep level.

      but i will be alright. i have beaten this before and i will do it again.

      sending you much love and a humongerous cyber hug,

      marantha

  3. Wordy, I am so glad you didn’t give up. This is such a deep, heartfelt post. I’m glad you aren’t giving up. You have so much potential, and I’d hate to see it all just go away.
    And with short, sweet, to-the-point posts, I’m sure you’ll garner more attention than you’d think possible. Shoot for the stars, Wordy; you’ll go places.
    LOADS OF LUCK!
    =D

    • THANK YOU, SWEET AND OH SO TALENTED FRIEND, FOR YOUR SUPPORT. I THINK I WENT A LITTLE CRAZY THE OTHER DAY.

      I AM TRYING TO SET THINGS RIGHT.

      SENDING A HUMONGEROUS CYBER HUG YOUR WAY!

      MARANTHA

  4. I’m glad you’re not giving up too! It’s so hard to put ourselves out there sometimes, especially if it feels like no one is paying attention. Yet, some of the gift of sharing is just that…sharing ourselves. Hang in there!

    • thank you, sweet sonia,for your support. and by the way, i am going to try to get our interview posted this weekend. i have sort of been out of it with regards to doing more than just trying to hold myself together since that interview. but i am slowly coming to terms with the things that are causing me pain.

      once again, thank you for your support not only now but in the past as well.

      sending you a huge cyber hug,

      marantha

      • I’m sorry to hear you were having such a struggle. You take your time. It’s important to give yourself enough time to rest and heal from anything that’s causing you pain. (hugs)

  5. Sometimes, to reply does not seem to be the proper response.

    Sometimes, the people silent in the corner are silent in respect. And then sometimes they’re standing there with a baseball bat waiting to pounce on someone that intentionally hurts you.

    I’m here even if I say nothing, and have nothing in any language that is expressive of what’s evoked.

    • Thank you so very much for taking the time to read words that were written at a very low time in my life. When I wrote these words, I was rapid cycling quite badly, just as I am now. That was a year ago. I had nearly one hundred and fifty posts at that time, only four or five of which garnered any response. Most of them had been posted for over a year or longer. In despair at the lack of response to my attempts to reach out, I copy and pasted every single thing from this blog and then deleted all of it. I left a message stating why I had done so.

      Oddly, that message got more response in three days than any post I had ever made. I shouldn’t have deleted it, some of the messages could have inspired me now and then, but when I began posting again, I stripped that particular blog.

      Ah well, live and learn.

      I wubs yous precious friend!

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