There’s Still Time To Change The Road You’re On

There’s Still Time To Change The Road You’re On

Kacie Brockman

“Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.”

Robert Frost

Allright, well 3rd times a charm. I have apparently broken about every rule of thumb to be a successful blogger…but then again, I’ve never been in it for success. Creating a ripple is all I really hoped to do, and I believe that is in fact, happening…however small and seemingly insignificant, the ripple is spreading out wider and wider.

I don’t care if anyone remembers my name, because I really wish I’d never had one at times. I know that sounds quite melancholy, yet it’s a simple truth for me. I never fully identified with my name, or self even. It just seems that we are given a name and then a little child career. Now within that career, we little humans can be molded, shaped and formed by our parents, or caregivers, and really the identity never belonged to the child. Well, that’s how it happened for me, and neither did my reality or any of my feelings or perceptions. There just wasn’t a me in the equation.

There were so many things I remember wanting to do as a child, but I could not. It wouldn’t look right. Or the clothes I was dressed in I certainly rarely had a say in any of it. Of course as a young girl I never really cared that much except that I hated lace dresses and leggings. ugh. Absolutely despised them. the lace was stiff and itchy, the tights were, well, tight and always drooping down to my knees so I had to walk funny because for whatever reason they never could be pulled up all the way. So while the boys in our family or friends would be playing and having a good ol time, there I was waddling and scratching and trying to stay clean for mama.

I hated baby dolls with a passion, but Mama loved them. I just never took to them and thought they were creepy. That never stopped me from receiving one every year on my birthday and since we were quite poor that was typically the only toy I ever got. My best memory of a gift was the one year I got a box of crayons, the giant box with 64 colors back then, a box of markers, and lots and lots of construction paper and a large drawing pad. Finally, a real present. One at last, simply for me. I still remember how happy I was coloring and creating for hours alone in my room. I was most happy being alone. Because I could be me. Forty years have passed, and not that much has changed. I never seemed to fit in anywhere…but when I was alone, there was no fitting anywhere, I just got to “be.”

The big 50 came and went without much todo. None in fact. And I was perfectly ok with that. I have certainly gotten far too comfortable going to the store without makeup, now staying home every Friday and Saturday night. I’ve done all the cruising, dancing, mingling and flirting I suppose that one can really do. Typically ending up feeling even more alone, and still remaining with the knowledge of being so apart from the rest of the world. I found myself quite content to sit and watch a good round of Family Feud, or read scripture. I know I sound like 80, but alas…it’s been a difficult road, these 50 years…so I put on my flannel gown, feed my cat, and go to bed whenever the hell I want to go to bed, and I make my own rules, and I choose my own friends and no one is the boss of me…anymore. A lonely liberation indeed. So lonely if fact, suicide sounded quite nice. I ran the film in my mind, wrote the notes, packed precious belongings for each of my children and planned the day. As selfish as it seems to many, I was tired. No, I was more than tired. I was sick. I was exhausted from living up to what everyone expected me to be, for I had become so much less, and a constant disappointment and black sheep, even within my own family. I was in immense emotional pain trying to numb it by any means possible. So as the last candle went out on my cake last year, I was ready to buy the burial insurance and headstone, and quietly take the next off ramp, But then something happened. Something really big happened and that changed everything. Everything.

I went straight to Hell.

I don’t mean figuratively or metaphorically I mean I went to Hell. I got the Grand Tour. Ok, well Hell is not very pretty. It was black, and lonely, and it was for eternity…Now I’m making this sound quite mild. It was sheer terror. I still cannot describe it as horrifying as it was…people just can’t grasp what I’m saying. It was BLACK…BEYOND BLACK… and yet I was AWARE. Fully 1000% aware, that this was eternity, no sleep, none of the 5 senses we have in this physical world….just black and I was PART of the black. It was something I’ll never forget. Later when I could kinda-sorta wrap my head around it, I knew I had a whole lot of living left to do. A whole lot.

So I realized that this life, MY life has been lived for everyone else but me. I think sometimes that can be considered noble and right, but not in my situation, for I was doing it for all the wrong reasons, and there were those reaping the benefits of my sacrifice for all the wrong reasons.

So yes, I have a label chosen by my parents, but see, I arrived here in form, or matter if you will,with no identification whatsoever, other than a spirit wrapped in bones and muscle and screaming to high heaven perhaps for the simple fact that as I was coming down the birth canal, all of a sudden, I realized this is NOT what I signed up for. Well, spiritual amnesia or not…apparently I did in fact sign up because even after three 5150’s, here I am…still.

Living for everyone else began taking a very high toll on my spirit, and I simply wanted out. So if you were wondering why I personally saw Hell, it was because I didn’t want this life any more. Now let’s get real clear on this… I said THIS life. I didn’t comprehend that I could change THIS life around. So I thought I was stuck with it, and I tell you what, I didn’t want one thing to do with staying alive if THIS life was it. Because it was far too painful, far too lonely and far too cruel for anyone in their right mind to even want to continue to exist in THIS life. So when people tell someone to, “Go to Hell!” I jump up and say, “No, no, no, no, no! Don’t say that!…You do NOT understand…”

Sadly most people I’ve explained my experience to don’t believe me. It’s awful. It is so awful knowing what I know for certain…and no one believing me. Especially those I love. It’s become maddening at times. But I have to accept that they are not able to hear, understand, believe or accept many things. This sucks. Really. But I’ve had to accept that it is what it is. They think I’m crazy, I know I’m not. I’m trying to save them, they stay in the dark, wandering and lost.

But I won’t stop. Because someone will in fact, hear me. Whether you’re doing something you know you shouldn’t, carrying on an affair that you know in your heart is wrong. Stop. Just stop. If you have found yourself trapped in a series of lies and deceit, stop. Just stop. Whatever life your living right now that you know is not in direct alignment with the highest potential for which you were born to live, stop. Just stop. Look around you. This is it guys. This is it. If tonight should be the night that you take your very last breath, would you be pleased with all that you have accomplished in THIS life? Or would you have a deep, gut wrenching regret eating away at your soul while you leave THIS life? You can change direction, it’s up to you. There are a billion other lives you can choose from to create, to become. You never, ever have to stay locked in a box that someone has placed you in…even if it was you.

There’s still time to change the road your on. Turn around. If you need to start all over, then do so. It may be your one last shot. I turned around. One of the most terrifying decisions I’ve ever made in my life, leaving behind a world of familiarity and false pretenses, I embarked on becoming well, me. I no longer wake up with dread and fear. For as long as I can remember this is how I would wake up.

Today I wake up with peace and joy and excitement. I used to awaken with panic and anxiety. It is gone. Completely gone with no need of any pharmaceuticals, cannabis…or ANYTHING. A highly personal spiritual evolution and shift occurred the moment I chose to take God’s will as my own, and let go of other’s will for me. Aligning with my Creator’s will, has freed me from bondage and my soul flies fearlessly from form, from matter, from THIS life, I have become, Me.

And one of the best side effects?








Written by: Kacie Brockman

Author: KacieBrockman2020

I am simply a woman who got tired of being everyone's doormat. So now I write fearlessly because when everything has been taken from you, what's left to lose? Most likely this being the only way I would have had the courage to write at all. Paradox 101 There are two people facing one another in an intense dispute when they are asked to look down at the ground, between them there is a number. One sees the number 69, the other sees 96. Which of them is right? Perception makes them both right.

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