Starting Over (AGAIN)

To my faithful readers: how many times have I used this blog post title? I have to have the world record for failed relationships at this point (LOL). I guess it's cool. Judging from the amount of reader questions and e-mails I had in my inbox, I'm sure you guys appreciate my desire to be the one to make the mistakes for everyone else.

Anyway, yeah the title is because I was in a relationship & I'm now single again, but it's actually much bigger than that.

Remember that book I wrote over a year ago, The Chronicles of a Love Addict - A Collection of Poems from a Love Junkie? Well, after all of the feedback I received from my readers I decided to go back to the drawing board.

Why? It's simple - after a few readers told me the impact my book made on their lives I realized I needed to be more honest with my readers. Yes I told you guys that he hurt me, but I never told you the extent of it. For that reason, I'm actively in the process to bring you guys The Chronicles of a Love Addict - A Love Junkie's Journey from Suicidal to Saved.

For my Charge it to the Game readers : Yes that is the reason for the delay, but don't worry - I HAVEN'T FORGOTTEN ABOUT YOU GUYS. For all of you that are currently subscribed to the newsletter, I am gearing up to give you guys the first few chapters FOR FREE. Yes you read that right. I'm in a very giving mood lately, so make sure you're a part of my mailing list for more information on when I'm releasing them.

In the mean time, continue reading on for the preface of the book I'm working on :
"A drug, by definition, is a substance that has a physiological effect when introduced to the body. Ironically that’s what he once was for me.
He provided a euphoric feel unlike anything I had ever experienced. In his touch I found my missing self-esteem, and his kiss was more valuable to me than my own dignity. The highs of his love seemed to be the response for all my unanswered prayers.
 Rewind back to before I lost my mind in love, he was my friend. He listened, he cared, and most importantly he was always there. Through his words and his actions he managed to convince me that all men weren’t the same. All it took was one taste of what I thought was his love and loyalty and that was enough to get my hooked. 
 After that, love went from just a four letter word that I had heard but didn’t know personally to an exciting verb and an alluring noun that was only synonymous to him. He had served me with the highest, rawest form of it possible and I couldn’t get enough – I was addicted. 
 I lost myself chasing the high from that first hit, but the thrill of reliving it made it all worth it for me to try to have it again. It was all fun and games, however, until I had suffered through my first withdrawal.
What’s crazy about everything is that I really wanted to put you in that memory of the first time the man I loved, adored, and practically worshiped put his hands on me, but I can’t vividly recall it. I know to some that sounds absurd, but any woman who has ever loved a man
more than herself can understand that. After all, he loved me so that was okay right? It’s okay that he put his hands on me because it was only a reaction to something I did, right? WRONG! Those just happened to be a few of the lies that I told myself every time I had to fabricate another tale about a bruise he had left on me. Those same lies comforted me when the pain from a broken toe made walking almost impossible, and when the swelling from my jaw made it difficult for me to cry out to God and pray for a change.
I found myself stuck and confused. How had the man responsible for my happiness become the one responsible for my strife also? How could the only man who made me feel whole also make me feel so empty? 
 The worst part of it all is that I was all alone chasing those highs to try to make me feel 
complete again. I had told too many lies to those around me to speak up about what was really going on, and truthfully I was afraid of how he would react if he ever found out. My only relief came from finding my voice through my journal entries. 
 When I originally released the first half of this book, I used it as an escape to turn my anguish into a quick buck. I felt that I could turn my pain into power if I took what he meant to destroy me as a way of making me successful.
 I’ll never forget the feeling I had when I was first approached by someone who had read my book. I had just gotten off the stage from performing a show I was headlining, when a woman approached me with much excitement. She pulled out her phone, called her friend, and immediately started screaming into her phone’s microphone about meeting the woman who had helped changed
their lives. Once she managed to calm down, she hung up and explained that after reading my book she had finally mustered up the courage to end a violent relationship. 
 “It was good to know that I wasn’t alone,” she said between sobs. “Through your poems I found relief knowing that not only had someone else experienced the same pain and confusion, but that it was possible to find life and love after heartbreak.”
 I was floored! One, I hadn’t sold many copies, so I was surprised that one of my readers would have actually been in the audience that evening. Two,  I couldn’t believe that my story could have such an impact on someone else’s life. 
 When I got home that night I revisited my book because I wanted to see what the two women had seen in it. After reading through it, I was disgusted with myself. You see, when I originally released it I was so worried about having something to throw back in his face that I didn’t consider my fellow sisters that would eventually end up reading it. At the time, I was so worried about possibly looking foolish if I ever decided to get back with him that I wasn’t even honest to myself in the journal entries I wrote. I never documented the abuse and what it felt like to be dangerously in love with my abuser because to me if I didn’t write it then it wasn’t real. After that encounter with those two women, I knew I had to do things the right way.
 My testimony from being a broken woman on the brink of suicide because of a man’s refusal to love me, to a saved woman who knows that everything I need can be found in God gives Him no glory if it’s not accurately told. This story that your holding now should have never been used as a form of payback to someone else, but instead as evidence of the marvelous things that God can do when we give our problems over to Him. Because I didn’t walk away from my abuser, God delivered me out of that situation. Not only that, but he also took what the enemy meant to harm and made it good so that it could also help save the lives of other women who made the same mistakes I once did. At the time, I was so busy searching for love in another human being that I was too blind to see the truth: God is the source of all things. Everything that I felt I needed and everything I thought I was missing was only going to be found in Him." -The Chronicles of a Love Addict : A Love Junkie's Journey from Suicidal to Saved