There is something deep in the pit of my stomach, making its way to my mind, by way of my heart that is deafening in the sound of its hammer driving deep, this painful spike of retreat.

I want to be alone now, more than ever before. I feel I require this alone time more than I need food or water. There is something deep in the pit of my stomach, making its way to my mind, by way of my heart that is deafening in the sound of its hammer driving deep, this painful spike of retreat.

Mounted with tons of tension and stress, weight of others and my own, put upon my shoulders more of late, but actually for several years, however, it doesn’t seem to be these stressors entirely that are the focus driving me inward. It is immensely more vast in feeling and scope than the obvious.

There seems to be a gnawing on my mind, grating on my nerves, constant tension and unquenchable irritation coming from deep within my innermost physical presence that is ever-present, underlying the twisted paths of consciousness through my mind. The thoughts of how and why I need to be alone haunt the echoes of socialization, emptying from my thoughts. The essence of total retreat permeates all reason leading away from total one-ness. What is this driving force? Does it stem from a healthy place of self-preservation and healing, or leap forth out of opportunity brought on by a depressed weakness of mental reorganization? It clearly does not stem from feelings of defeat.

It is definitely an importantly different feeling than I have ever had before, or will probably ever feel again perhaps. It rubs against the grain of all the natural tendencies for normal socialization one instinctively maintains, like sandpaper planeing a rough two by four board; like the tearing, pushing, prodding, and smoothing motion of the sculpture’s finger, this lump of clay (my very being) waits not so patiently sane for the potter’s wheel to start spinning, short spurts of slow speed at first, then longer, faster, variations melting time and space, mud and water, flesh and tears, held tight in place by life’s pressures, while smoothing and shaping this entity, the product of the potter’s own hand.

It is though I have no control on the revolving doors that are closing me off from everyone I love and care about. Yet it doesn’t seem so wrong or so selfish when compared as an instrument of survival for my soul. The choice that bothers me is virtually one of non-choice in hurting people who may really care about me in their own well-meaning ways, while abandoning me regarding my own individual needs, because of their own inability to manage the tornado of emotions this experience creates.

My reality bed where I lie physically now, easily converts to the bed of my mind, where I relish wallowing in the well-worn sheets of my thoughts. When the confusion over feelings and needs becomes too great, I will cover my head with the warm comforter of sleep both in my mind, and drifting over into reality. This ironic faux peacefulness will last only sporadically until its pace is overtaken by the swift feet of another legion of tasks, mandates, responsibilities, social mores’, or recording this reverie of aloneness, decisions, and understanding.

It is though my mind, body, and spirit, are individually, yet cumulatively reorganizing, refurbishing, revitalizing their unique strengths for a great battle that lurks mysteriously beyond the next new unexplored horizon; waiting there in urgency and importance, as if the rest of my life depended on the outcome of that one great battle, yet ironically in weakness, still reeling from the previous bouts with life’s warriors. Then, all rationale cries out for logic, order, understanding and wisdom of all the archetypes of the universe to come into my being rescuing me by osmosis to guide me through this nerve-wracking, snake and mosquito infested dark forest of eternity.

I want to rest innocently on the lap of my Daddy again, collapsing into his “trashcan” as I so named the hole created by his legs crossed “Indian-style” while sitting in the floor. It seemed I was so small, or he was so big (although he was not a large man by any means) that this place all-encompassed me in warmth, safety, and strength; a hiding place for me to wait until I felt safe enough, secure enough, to venture out on my own again. I was so small and innocent then, and the world around me was safely limited, black and white, simple and sane, but never-lasting.

I am who I was born to be, who developed, was nurtured and neglected, shaped, manipulated, molested, abandoned, and who survived to be, Betty Jane Douglas DiFrancesco Scroggins Olvera, otherwise known as “Little Janey Douglas”, “Dayna Disco”, “Lady J.” Names mean absolutely nothing, tied to identities that quickly change and pass, entities that are blown about by life’s playground of learning, coping, existing, and surviving, this journey known as life. A seemingly long and distant trip that goes by so quickly like that once in a lifetime dream vacation with its small and expensive pleasures, remembered only later by tiny, cheap souvenirs that you rummage through and debate over before throwing them out into the garbage. Or even sadder, the most special vacation that is planned for decades, but never seems to materialize because by the time you get everything into place to prepare for it (time, money, arrangements, reservations, house sitters, children, etc.) you are too old, too broke, too physically and mentally unstable or unable to physically or cognitively enjoy or endure it.

Just as I had to learn and practice the ability to cry silently, many decades ago in order to vent my pain and frustration, while surviving and not offending others, I must lock myself away, alone with only this turmoil, wrestling with it until I can analyze and determine its structure. This murky, muddy puddle, quicksand that keeps pulling me back; alone, cold, drenched in memories of lost loves, disappointments, both personal and of mankind in general. Whether it takes days, weeks, months, or years, I must untangle the knotted truths and untruths, deceptions and lies, disappointments and disillusionments, loving without being loved, repeatedly by many, and then pick myself up, dust myself off, and make a new workable plan for tomorrow and the future, into eternity. I must not only do this for myself, but for others as well, as an example of what can be done, and sometimes must be done despite the cost.
The one most important and only reality within this whole process, and the only one proven repeatedly to be true and unfailing, is that God has been, continues to be, and will forever eternally be my one and only Savior, strength, rock, shelter, and comforter; the one and only entity that will never desert me. And although He is not physically incarnate now (although He has been and will be again) He is very ever-present and real in support, conversation, understanding, guidance and wisdom. For a little bit of seeking on my part, I am able to do a lot of finding, enabling me to do all things through Christ Jesus, my Lord. He is the only one who has ever died specifically for my shortcomings, and paid my debts in full, and at such a high cost…His own life, when He was totally innocent. He did this, knowing all my downfalls and weaknesses, negatives, and bad habits, horrible, dirty little thoughts, desires and secrets, before I was ever known by others or knew myself. This was His only purpose in coming to this earth…to die for all of us who could not be in the Glory of God’s presence without His intercession for us. He has made the path clear, straight, the toll paid, for us, in advance.

And anyone can have this feeling and security, knowing that nothing else will ever matter in this world or in eternity, except that one proven, positive, guaranteed, fact. Anyone can have the knowledge and wisdom that spans universally, far beyond any foolish wisdom of this world, by just believing in their hearts, and accepting the grace that is offered freely to us, purchased at a tremendous cost, by the Creator of all worlds and universes, light, time, every living creature, concept, or thing ever invented or thought of in the past, present, future. He loved us before we were, just how we would be, and was willing to give the life of His Only Begotten Son, to see Him tortured, beaten, spit upon, slandered, all the time being innocent of any crime or wrongdoing, that WHOSOEVER would believe in Him, would never, ever perish, but have eternal, everlasting life with Him in the most beautiful place ever, especially made for us. How AWESOME is that? How GREAT is a LOVE like that? The choice is still ours….eternal life, peace, joy, fulfillment, with someone so loving and kind He chose to die for our transgressions, or carnal sin, suffering, agony, pain, and unquenchable fire, burning our souls for eternity? You choose only for you. I have chosen divinely guaranteed eternity for myself, but not of myself; by abounding Grace, given to all those who choose to accept it by opening their hearts and inviting the Savior of the universe to come in and make His home there.