When Pulling a Hand Gets Real


(I’ve been reading tarot for nearly two years, mainly for myself)

I pulled a touchy hand this morning and I tried to make it mean something other than what it truly meant. After sitting with the spread, I began to call out my cruel behavior towards myself. I've cried victim most of my life due to my upbringing. I've been through a hell only Lifetime could summarize. Yet, instead of seeking help early, I laid in my mess helpless, or worse, refusing help.

Somewhere in the beginnings of my journey, I told myself I deserved this pain and treatment, so i stopped doing anything about it. I let chips fall and cried later. Perhaps that's why I attracted so many dead and broken things into my love and friend life. Because I was dead and broken.

Now, I'm alive and healthy. I'm on my road to true recovery which winds, dips and creates opportunities for self-realization. I want more out of my life which requires me being real with me. So as the Tower and 9 of Swords crossed each other in my reading, I realized (for me) my self-induced cruelty must end by my own hand. I must burn it off. I must demolish the monuments of shame I've erected. Or the Universe will. Thank God for pizza and healing.

Loving Him from Afar (Ode to My Son)

When Abuse is Enough