The Saboteur  

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It exists within all of us.  When is speaks with the right tone and intonation, it can help us soar by offering word of encouragement. It can offer us guidance and security when that little voice speaks up, if we would only listen when she spoke.  It sings in joy and happiness and reminds one to be grateful, in those small silent moments when life comes into perfect focus. If only that was the extent of  the voice.

We all know the strength the voice of another can have, the soothing words of a mother can calm an upset child, the words of inspiration at a moment of change, or words of compassion and love.  The same power can be wielded by words in anger, judgment, or hatred. Words that are small in stature yet yield such force they can cause a scar that runs deep.  The strength of those words can fuel that voice which speaks in moments of weakness, the voice which undermines our confidence, which works to alienate and derail us. That voice carries the notes of those who have criticized us, taken aim at our greatest weakness, undermine our confidence and damaged our psyche.

When my saboteur decided to speak, it was with a ferocity that could not be ignored. A vehement call that came with a reminder of all of the scars.  She spoke of the fact all of my choices, no matter what the rational, were wrong. That I not only made them incorrectly but I could not ever overcome the error. I did not stay to protect but I stayed out of fear and weakness.  I was a poor parent who could do little to balance the damage to which I had exposed my children. She reminded me I was broken, beyond repair and my damage rippled out into the lives of others. With a continual outcry of the words of others, she chastised me for all my shortcomings.

 

“Is there no way out of the mind?”  ― Sylvia Plath

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