Today the negative talk started. It’s that internal voice that echos all the negative, hurtful things that have been said to you by others.

“You’re a looser”
“You’re Ugly”
“You’re Fat”
“You’re a bad mother”
“You’re not responsible”
“You’re a failure”
“You CAN’T”
“What’s WRONG with you?”
“Why would I want YOU?”

And they play, over and over on automatic in my head. No rewind required. It’s a steady flow of berating and debasement coming from myself. I can see the person who originally spoke them. Their hate, their spit in my face, their rage and poignant focus as they aim at my soul to take me down. I can see him, I can see her, I can see them, but the voice is my own. My own subtle hiss of a voice that knows how to seep into my veins. It’s a voice that alludes the rational of the brain and short trips it’s way directly to my sensory hub; it gets right to my soul. And my soul is so tender it curls and ducks to try to stop the attack, not knowing how to fight back the person it’s designed to love. It’s all these dark words. And “Stick and stones, … but names will never hurt me” Oh no, how tragically inaccurate that statement is because physically I’m a bull. I can take a hit, punch me, beat me and the only way it’ll leave a mark is if those fists are attached to someone I care about.  Physical attacks mend easily. What stays is the trauma suffered spiritually, emotionally and mentally from those attacks. And I guess in the most technical sense a verbal attack is a physical attack. Words are actions after all. They are calculated manifestations of decisions somebody has made and when they are aimed at somebody they are weapons. I know. And that is why I laid mine down a couple of weeks ago. I am great with words. They are what I wield. Very few can beat me and those that can I turn into mentors. So I held my tongue. I held back my bullets. And I allowed the attack to continue, fearing more about pain I could cause in retaliation. It was realizing this that provided the ammo I needed to defend against the self beratement. Yes. Because only the truly powerful can stand in defense of someone who is aiming to hurt them. Only the truly powerful know their power well enough to control it. And I do. And I would not become the hate filled, arrogant specimen I saw before me. I felt bad for him, for her and them. I pitied them. Because I saw their fate. I knew their future. They will be alone. And even when they find companionship it will be for the wrong reasons. They will never be happy. They’re too afraid to be. They hide from themselves and expect me to be injured by the attacks of their projected self. But it’s nothing but a light show. Special effects designed to trick the eye. And once I realize this I realize everything. They are weak. And they need to create a show that brings me to my knees if they are to have any power over me.

You have no power over me.

Enjoy this, it’s an oldie but goodie:

The power is all in her head and she can chose to wield it against herself or on her own behalf. He’s done everything she’s asked him to…. she was always in control. It’s realizing this when you finally grasp the power of your own mind, to create or destroy. The one you’re really fighting is you. How will you stand? For or against? And that’s when you realize why the other people are talking to you this way, why you even have anything at all to do with them… because you’ve allowed it, maybe even asked for it. So disallow it and send them away. With one statement:

“You have no power over me”

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