Tortured Souls (On Hold)

Chapter 10

Sorry it has taken so long to load another chapter.  It has been a busy couple of weeks.  I hope you will appreciate that this is a much longer chapter than the others, and has taken me days to write.  Please comment or vote, as I have no idea if anyone is enjoying this story.  The next chapter will have more action in it.

Shaking off my encounter with Samuel, I entered my mom’s room once again.  I hope we can actually discuss some things in light of my hallway revelation into my mom’s private hell.  I have a feeling I might get the lecture first about how I prayed, some things never change, no matter how old you get.  “Do moms ever stop lecturing their kids?”

“Tati, were you able to discuss what you needed to with Samuel?  I hope this will put an end to the kind of behavior you displayed just a few minutes ago.  Really Tatiana, you went a bit overboard don’t you think?”

“Is that a rhetorical question or do you really want me to answer it?” I ask as conciliatory as possible.

“Tati, I don’t blame you for feeling the way you do, but I hope you will give me the opportunity to take away some of that pain, pain I helped foster.  For that I will always be sorry.  One of life’s most helpful lessons is hindsight.  As you age and you look back over the choices and path you have taken, and you can see how decisions you made when you were younger lead you down a course you couldn’t have predicted, or you would have made a different choice.  It also helps put things into perspective, and gives you an appreciation for the council of friends and family when you allow them into your life and heart.  I spent so many years in shame that I couldn’t let anyone into my life and heart, including you.  This isn’t something I am proud to admit.  It seems unconscionable that a mother wouldn’t be able to truly let her child into her heart, but I felt my heart was evil, and it was the last place I would want you to be.  This might not make any sense, but it was how I felt at the time,” my mom winces as pain takes a stab at her body.

The truth was, I could understand what she was saying all too well.  I lived it as a current reality, not letting anyone get close, not letting anyone see the extent of the damage that was my heart, mind, and soul.  “Mom, tell me about the voices,” I almost whisper.  “Did I really say that out loud?”  Bad question, the voices in my head have made a resurgence and are screaming for me to stop.  It is going to be a bad night, one of those nights that I am not sure I will remember in the morning, but will pay for in the end.

“Tati, I am glad you asked.  You hear them too, don’t you?  I bet they are really angry right now and don’t want you to listen to what I have to say about them, am I right?” my mother says with sympathy.

I can’t really reply, so I just nod my head in affirmation.

“Would you like to hear about how I struggled with them and how I ended their reign of terror?” my mom asks expectantly.

I nod my head again, which is beginning to throb from the shrieking of voices, as I sit back into the bedside chair exhausted, scared, and somewhat hopeful all at the same time.  “Mom, I don’t know if I am ready for this, but I know it would be a mistake to wait, given the news of the day.”

“Tati, there is a vicious cycle that develops with shame and guilt.  You regret a choice you made and then the shame comes.  Usually, it is self-inflicted, but in some cases it is added on by others.  In my case, it was magnified by the rejection of my parents.  My friends were forbidden to talk to me, because their parents were afraid they would be corrupted and led into sin as I had been.  Your father didn’t make it any better.  It all seemed to come down to my being worthless, no good, a back-sliding-slut of a Christian, and there was no way to deny it, I was pregnant.  I wore my sin like a billboard advertising the Whopper.  I couldn’t hide it like so many others.  I was an open-for-ridicule, road-side attraction.  The only difference was that no one was charging admission to this side-show freak.  I was in a crisis situation and there was no hotline for me to call for salvation.  I had burned that bridge so-to-speak, or at least that is what I thought.  How could God love me after I had openly rebelled against his commands?  How could I have been so weak?  Anyway, these were all the things that plagued my thoughts all day, every day.  My mind was a breeding ground for all things evil and sinister.  It wasn’t long before my thoughts had company.  The voices reaffirmed the horrible things I thought about myself.  So as you can see, I was trapped in what felt like an endless cycle of hopelessness and despair.  Is that how you feel, Tati?”