“She did terrible things to me” spins in my head as I rise from my bed and head for my sacred space in a desperate attempt to shake those thoughts and memories from my mind. Of course, it was all my fault for looking at those photos on social media. I thought I’d put it all behind me. Another setback on my journey toward healing. A path I’d thought I’d worn down and conquered until I met it face to face once again.

People like that wear a facade and spin a tale that all too many are willing to believe. Must believe in order to feel better about themselves. But I know the truth, the truth they refuse to believe or acknowledge. To the outside, their words create a wall of invisibility around me. To the outside, my words land on me in an unflattering way. They make me sound like a lunatic. Angry at the very least. And maybe I am. Because the wound I thought was dead and buried has been cut open again. Because looking at the person and the tale that’s been spun, my words look like imposters. They look like the lie.

Sometimes it feels like I carry this load alone. I am not alone. But I must carry that load one step at a time, one day at a time for eight more days. Until the day the world reveres is over. On that day, I will stay in my home. I won’t go to church where even they feel like they must celebrate that day. But if I know what’s good for me I will completely unplug. Where it is safe. Where I am loved. And I will be okay, Like the Phoenix, I will rise again and move beyond this time. Once again.

Now we need a song. How about “I Will Survive” with a little help from my musician friends and their kind, supportive words.