There’s something about the snow that brings me peace.

It reminds me of the days I spent living out in the country, with no car and no money to my name, and only a couple of friends I seldom saw. I spent a lot of time in that abusive home, not knowing if my father was going to start another fight, insult me in various ways, or if my mother was on a good or bad day. I locked myself away in my room regularly, and after time passed and things got worse, I did my best to avoid my parents completely. I developed hyper-awareness for footsteps, especially. Footsteps often meant trouble, as did the specific way gravel crunched under my father’s truck tires.

This led to a lot of loneliness. I had my head family — my spirit guides and alters — who I had only begun to scratch the surface of. I didn’t know just how real or valid they were, but things became clearer as they appeared more and more, and I finally let them in as their true selves. Not as who I thought they were. They helped me survive, and they often talked me down from some suicidal nights.

I often cried out for help only to be ignored, called an attention-whore, high-maintenance, or in the case of my home life, I was berated and made to feel like a burden. I did not have peace, and I spent many days on edge with trauma that lurked just under my skin. Things I never wanted to speak about and hadn’t. Trauma I’d buried because I didn’t feel anyone would listen or believe me.

And then, it would snow.

At midnight out in the country, it was dead silent save for the void whisperings of winter. Although I feared what was in the dark, namely the shadow men I saw and the sleep paralysis entity that would become a recurring visitor in my life, I felt safe in the cold. I didn’t dress for it either. I wanted it to claim me as I welcomed it like an icy blanket of comfort.

I’m reminded of the wintry scenes in Edward Scissorhands, and it’s no wonder that’s one of my favorite films. I cry every time The Grande Finale by Danny Elfmann plays. To some, the song has become a meme or a joke. To me, the song is what my soul sounds like on its worst days. Full of hope but hopelessly in love with melancholy.

It’s snowing today. Yet, where I now live does not let me have the peaceful silence I once found in winter. But I am moving soon. In the first week of December, I’ll finally get to have the best of both worlds — living on a back road close to the country, but also close enough to downtown where shops, restaurants, and other things exist.

I will finally have peace for the first time in my life if all goes well. I have lived a life of moving from one toxic home to the next, and the idea of living in a peaceful home is still a dream in my head. It’s difficult to imagine it’s even possible for me because I’ve never known it. I’ve always had to exist with survival mode turned on.

Maybe then I will get to enjoy the peaceful wintry void again. I want to explore its meaning in my life more since it’s also appeared with cryptic messages in my false-awakening and sleep paralysis dreams. 'It’s lost in the cold. It’s out there, in the snow.' I’ve talked about that in previous entries.

I did an oracle card reading one day as well where it popped up. The deck I used often responds to my thoughts and has since I used it to dig back into repressed memories. I drew the Winter card when I brought up my fear of those dreams recently. Blindly drawn from a fully shuffled deck. I also drew another card I often hope for, and so far, in the two readings where I’ve asked to draw the card with a skull holding a candle to bring light into the darkness, it has come to me.

I hope 2022 will bring healing and peace into my life. I will do whatever I can to make it happen.

I look forward to sitting outside during winter on my back porch, just enjoying the quiet void of the snow.

©2021 Shane Blackheart


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