Blog

Dear God;

November 2, 2022
Dear God, good morning. I am always happy to write to you, Jesus. Every morning I open my little brown book, God’s Promises for every day, I open a page in the book and then write about the topic every morning.  Today’s reading is about “What to do when you feel angry?” Wow, my anger gets me into trouble and sometimes  I snap. For example, Desiree is a neighbor that lives downstairs from us. Desire assaulted an employee at her job and was fired.
I have to pray for my enemy, Desiree is a fighter and I’m not. But I was angry at her for telling me to. Shut the fuck up.” In return I snapped because I could hear her on Roman’s phone, I said to Desiree, “You shut the fuck up, nobody is going to yell at me that way.” Desiree is a bully.
 I know it’s old behavior that jumps out at times. I’m no angel.  My old behaviors lay dormant inside of me, and it’s hard to be verbally abused by a bully. I was foolish to react. I should have said nothing. Desiree is a bully. I need to pray for Desiree to be happy.
According to the Bible, it writes, “Patient people have great understanding, but people with quick tempers show their foolishness.” Proverbs 14:29
I have always looked angry and felt anger at the world in my younger years when I was a teenager. I was hurting inside and never told a soul. I always looked tough and I never cared about people’s feelings. I never addressed the issues of my anger.
I belong to Club 24 in Malden Massachusetts, a woman by the name of Kim, use to call me “Pitbull” because I was foolish at yelling at a sex offender in the fellowship in the meeting. There were at least forty people there in the meeting. I saw red and nothing else.
Because I was sexually abused and the sex offender triggered my flashbacks of being sexually abused by my father at the age of seven. As a little girl, I was angry a lot. And little girls should not endure such abuse by anyone.
I came close to physically hurting my father in nineteen-ninety- eight. He called me and wanted to sexually abuse me again. He said, “Come down here so I can suck your fuckin pussy.” I flipped out. I lived thirty minutes from him. I got into my car and drove to his house with a vengeance.
Through traffic, I was at his house in twenty minutes from Beverly Massachusetts. I sat in my car squeezing my steering wheel. Rage premeditated through veins. I thought that I was going to break the steering wheel.
I walked up to his house with the notion of wanting to hurt him, like the way he hurt me when I was a little girl.
My biological father welcomed me into his house and said, “Come in Geraldine.” I followed him behind him. The house smelled like urine. As we walked into the kitchen, I stood near the table and he was on the other side of the kitchen table. I immediately grabbed the table and pushed in my father’s direction.
He was cornered in the corner of the kitchen. I yelled at him and said,” I’m calling my mother and you are going to tell her everything that you did to me as a child.”
And I was standing near the pantry there were butcher knives dangling calling my name. I proceeded to call my biological mother and my father was stuck in the corner and I yelled, “Tell her the fuckin truth.” He said, “Get the fuck out of my house.” The table kept my biological father from coming near me. My mother told me to get the fuck out of his house, I began to cry. I felt like a seven-year-old again.
Eventually, I let him loose from the corner, and he grabbed the phone and called the police. I believe that my biological father knew I wanted revenge. I had so much hate for him and my biological mother too.
Today, I’m not as angry as I was back then. I ended up in a day program to control my impulses of anger. The doctor put me on a high sedative to calm me. Today I go to the Bipolar clinic to see a professional doctor that knows me well, Doctor Deriousa has been my doctor for twelve years. We chat through the Gateway at Mass General hospital. When I first met Dr, Deriousa I could not spell my name. I was in a severe depression at the time. After a few weeks, I started to feel good about myself. My doctor is the best!
Today was an intensive morning. Talking about the past and how I almost hurt my biological father. But you God intervened and in two -thousand and eleven and I forgave my biological father for sexually abusing me and verbally tormenting me too throughout the years. Yes, I told him I was sorry for hating him for all those years. And he cried as he lay in the hospital bed. He was dying, but I did not know this. We cried together and I felt compassion for my father for the first time.
I am so grateful I was able to forgive my father because I was carrying around the shame, and guilt in my heart since I was seven. I don’t know why I wrote about this topic. Maybe I needed to get it out on the computer. Jesus, I love you for loving me. Love me