I had nightmares last night.  AGAIN.  It is not a new thing that I toss, turn and tremble about in my sleep.  I have come to learn that it’s my brain’s way of fleshing out and healing the deeply buried trauma.

The ones I had last night were different.  They were about my words, this sacred space and the things I post here.  Even though I have found my voice and and allowing myself to ROAR I struggle every time I hit publish.

Second guess myself.

“Should I say this”

“What are they going to think?”

It’s long been hard for me to say what I am truly thinking about, what is deeply felt within me for fear of it being thrown back in my face, called ugly, terrible or the worst….


The nightmares I had last night were about people commenting on my posts and saying nasty things about me, my words and my heart.

I posted an extremely raw post yesterday and admittedly was upset when the views on facebook went up but it did not seem as though it was being read or heard.  It was an tough and albiet graphic subject matter.  Understandably some may not be able to read that. 

I felt like I had put my heart on the table and then it laid there, naked, bleeding and cold.

Then as I was lying in bed I got a Vox from someone whose writing and friendship I am deeply greatful for:

“I read your post.  I love you, I am glad we are friends”

I was heard.  Then again, by these fellow life travelers whose hands are all bound together by the same spirit.

“I love you”

“I am thankful for your story, your words.  For YOU”

I am learning that my desire to write is not about the person reading it but my heart. What I need to say, how I have to flesh out my heart and soul through words.  I do not always articulate things very well when I speak but when I write I sometimes feel as though I am able to communicate on a different level with people, with God and now with myself.

I suppose my nightmares were maybe more about me not hearing me.  And being afraid of what my own heart was saying after sharing my experience with suicide.

It’s a common factor among bloggers ( at least for me it was ) to want to be famous, a top dog blogger and get to go to all those super cool blogger conferences and get super sweet swag.  Okay maybe there is still a part of me that wants that.  I don’t lie here on my blog.  The title is Truth Be Told so….

I want swag, and conferences and one of those cool score thingy’s (I forget what they are called)

I digress.

Baring my soul is tough shit.  I cannot do it alone.  Yet I have had some amazing conversations this week about what my desire to write is about, where it’s coming from and what I really want to do with it.

For now I am going to do it here.  Bare it all, piece by piece, layers.  Like a trifle 🙂

If someone comes and says something hurtful, harsh or mean then I suppose I have to take a step back and look at it from on outward perspective, which is what I am trying to do in many areas of my life.

AND sometimes I say harsh, hurtful and snarky things so “Bethany, point taken”

Also I swtiched to black tea today over coffee so I feel like I lost my mojo halfway through this post.  Which makes it awesome that I am not a top dog blogger because then my followers would be like

“What the WHAT? Did you have a ghost writer today?”

Also I am not typing this on my computer.  I am downstairs in the business center, on the crappy computers and somehow there is no spell check.  SO I am sure there are misspelled words and bad grammer, but hey #messyisthenewbeautiful

As Always,