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sheila submitted a contest entry to
Write a letter to your fear (Sponsored by ProWritingAid) 1 weeks, 4 days ago
Me Myself and I
Dear Samantha,
I remember the exact moment I gave up, and you were born. Realizing my children were essentially gone. He won. Confusion set in because I was holding up the agreement. Checking off everything asked of me. Hair follicles, monetary support, following guidelines of my supervision, staying consistent, yet I was unredeemable. Two people were both arrested and charged with possession. Both had the same circumstances. The only difference is I could not afford to pay a lawyer. I went to prison. He got probation. We both lost the rights to our children. His sister stepped up to adopt, agreeing with the reunification plan. However, with the finalization of their adoption, I am erased. Stonewalled and rejected.
Their father never lost access to our children. I was thankful that at least one of us could be in their lives. In the middle of all the destruction, they did not lose everything. Losing contact with them hurt me, but thinking of the pain they endured killed me. Their dad assured me he was correcting the lies his sister was telling them. I knew I would have to wait until they were old enough to present the truth and begin my new journey with them. My daughter delivered the actual truth once she was old enough. Convinced that I never tried to contact them and I gave them away. Essentially believing I didn’t want them, she hated me and wanted nothing to do with me.
Somewhere in the aftermath of my daughter’s hateful words, the lies, the pressure, and the void, my heart flatlined. Desperately wanting to disappear. How do I keep living when pieces of me are missing? Defeated by injustice, to cope with the pain, I created you and became numb.
A simple question brought awareness to you. Identity was born. Recognition developed your persona.
The agreement with myself made, I relinquish control.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Samantha!” you exclaimed.
I never corrected myself for the deception. My curiosity peaked. I wondered what you would do. The more he believed, the stronger you got. What a presence you are! Bigger than the area you occupy. Precise, direct, cold, and unattached. Enamored with you. Like the wind you blew in this time and offered immediate relief from my endless suffering. The more time marched on, the more you were around. In my imagination, I would converse with you. I even met you once in the astral realm. My Twin. Slightly different, but the same. Your essence drew me in. Hypnotic the way your eye danced. Your mission was to eliminate me. We lived inside a bottle just like a tiny sailboat. Dancing with the Devil. Seeking the Reaper. I was hopeless.
My core shakes at the thought of you becoming relevant again. I am petrified that one day I will not be strong enough. That the weight will become too heavy and smash me. When reality is anything but real, you are there with a plan for destruction. My dad could tame you when you pop in for visits. Friends and family knew I was you, and you were you because of me, but you were never me and I was always me. Some of my friends even played pretend with me while I was playing you. His sudden death in 2023 left me alone with you. The only thing I knew how to do was give in to you. Just stop fighting. That is what I did. In complete solitude, the job would be easy.
The deafening silence pushed me to the edge of existence, between memory and thought. Watching you search for the most effective tool to extinguish my spark. It almost looks like you are floating in these moments. So satisfied with your performance that you are even humming. I wonder if you realize this will be the annihilation of you too. Right then I doubted. Silently, I asked for help. The warmth from God’s love gently helped me off the floor. I have not seen you since that day. Eradicated by the grace of God and divine protection. Now you are a memory.
I rest in knowing that I will conquer all my enemies, even my greatest one, my mind. Peace comes over my spirit. In our destruction, we were reborn. Thank you for being cunning enough to save our life despite me. Forgiving myself sealed your defeat. Then I wondered if you would forgive me, too. For you, I am defeated and a memory too. Even though you are a split of me, you are still you. A part of me that is gone now. I love every inch of you, but I fear what you represent.
Why fear something that no longer exists? You disappeared with the acceptance of me. I disappeared with the acceptance of you. I am you. We are both healed.
Love,
Always in All Ways
Me Myself and I
SheilaStyle Score 100%
Voting starts April 9, 2025 11:59pm
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sheila responded to a letter in topic Write a letter to your younger self about a challenge you faced as a child but have since overcome 1 months, 2 weeks ago
Thank you for these kind words I’m glad that I made it too. The death of my father almost took me out, but we must endure.
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sheila submitted a contest entry to
Write a letter to your younger self about a. challenge you faced as a child but have since overcome 3 months, 1 weeks ago
Endurance
Endurance
Hey Kiddo,
You have yet again existed a little too loud and woke the monster. She is the bearer of your life and the stealer of your essence. You not only face hate from ignorance at school every day, but you also endure unspeakable torture at home. There will be a period in your life where you get no rest from the heinous blows, but you must endure.
In the darkness of your closet, tears stain your face, and doubt settles in. Your perception of yourself is warped; there is nothing wrong with you. I want you to remember that her demons have nothing to do with you. You have always been perfect in every way. Your inner beauty causes jealousy and insecurities, hatred you must endure.
Wrapping your heart and mind around the fact that the woman who brought life to you despises your life will be your greatest challenge. Loving and accepting your beauty will be unachievable for decades. The deception of your unworthiness will guide you into the darkest parts of reality. The shattering of your soul will be deafening at moments, but you must endure.
If I tell you all the twists and turns along the journey you may try to avoid the pain, but you need the fire to forge you into a warrior. In every storm you encounter, dance in the rain, embrace the thunder, and celebrate your failures, for they shape you too. You will dine in the pits of hell, carrying buckets of water for the damned souls, but you are willing to endure.
The denial of affection makes the mountain you must climb grow until it is all you can see. When our mother discards you like trash, rejoice because that is your deliverance. You will be shown the acceptance and love your soul craves; however, you do not know how to receive it, so you unconsciously sabotage it. Ironically, the belief that you are unworthy prevents you from enjoying love. In these years, you will feel displaced and spiritually homeless. Please endure.
After 40 years the weight is too much to bear and you almost give up. Once again you retreat into the closet, with tears clouding your sight. Except this time you intend not to fight anymore. The cold steel is the exit out of the pain. In the split moment between being and unbeing, the exit door jams, and you hear, “It’s ok to not be ok kiddo. I am here.” The spirit of God helps you endure.
I must prepare you for the yellow brick road in the abyss. You have to be as strong as iron and as gentle as cotton. Do not let the actions of others change your heart. No prince is coming to recuse you because the knight resides in you. Your future is still unwritten, your choices can change the projection of your reality. You have conquered the hardest of human afflictions, acceptance. Thank you, for your strength to Endure. I love you.
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Sheila, this is a powerful and heartbreaking story. I am so sorry that your childhood was corrupted by the person who should have loved you most. I am glad that you were eventually able to walk away from that trauma, though you nearly didn’t make it. It is wonderful that you are at a place where you can encourage your younger self to endure…read more
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Thank you for these kind words I’m glad that I made it too. The death of my father almost took me out, but we must endure.
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sheila shared a letter in the
Remembering those we lost/Grief group 4 months ago
Trapped in Time
It’s often said that time heals all wounds. The pain may never fully disappear, but it becomes more bearable. Father Time, I’m calling on you to make the impossible, possible. It will be two years this January since I lost you, Dad, and it still doesn’t feel real. I keep thinking I’ll wake up from this parallel universe I’ve somehow landed in. This can’t be the world I have to live in now. How do I navigate life without you?
No one prepares you for the loss of a parent. My dad was both my parents in one. In the 40 years I’ve been on this earth, that man never even raised his voice at me. He was the only person who ever loved me nonviolently and unconditionally. I’m convinced he was put in my life to contrast the physical and emotional abuse inflicted by my mother. He never gave up on me, even when I had given up on myself. He was my anchor in the turbulent seas of life.
I’m stuck in the moment he left, and my reality shifted to this alternate one. I never realized how much his presence in this world was a safety net for me. My go-to line was always, “I don’t care, I’ll call my dad.” He could fix anything, and nothing would harm his little girl. This 40-year-old little girl feels lost in a world that’s foreign and frightening. I don’t think I’ll ever leave that moment in time. I’ll forever be suspended in the exact second his love was taken from me, the part of me that felt invincible because my dad had my back. The uncontrollable grief that follows the death of a parent, especially a father to his daughter, can be unconventional at times.
The good times aren’t as bright as they used to be. Shared memories and events have lost their sweetness. Life’s accomplishments feel less fulfilling. Trials and troubles seem a thousand times worse. Accepting this reality is incredibly hard. I know he’s always with me; he’s shown me many signs, but it’s not the same as hearing his voice tell
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