“Amelie, can you feed Jack’s cat? I think he’s in the hospital again.” This was the last message my brotherNate sent me in a text in regard to my other brother. It was so typical of him to want to tie every loose end together that he could before he left the earth plane. He had planned to end his life. It was obvious in retrospection.

This message pops up every once in a while on my iPhone with a chime:Ding. Ding.” I look. I read. Tears well. Of course, I think about him and that last meeting here in Colorado that never materialized.


August, 7, 2019


It has been so long since I have created a new post. It feels good to step back in again and write in my blog versus my journal, which is a new endeavor that makes me feel happy. With a heavy heart, however, I must confess that my mind has been drawn toward my past since the passing of my brother Nate three and a half months ago. I have been revisiting old traumas that I experienced during different points of my life. A death, especially suicide, really has caused me to look back at the times I may have wanted to end my life here but didn’t.

If we are honest with ourselves, thinking about wanting to push the Exit button” is more common than what one might like to believe if you have lived a full life with many unexpected twists and turns. You don’t have to have a background of childhood trauma to have depression. Shit happens that is unexpected in the beginning, middle, or end of life. We may lose our job, get served divorce papers, experience the death of someone we love, have suicidal ideation from prescription drugs, or find out we have a terminal illness. The list goes on and on. And pressing the Exit button may seem like the answer, but it is short term, with long term consequences. Our friends and family will miss us beyond words.

This time on earth, with all the amazing shifts that are happening with people awakening, raising our vibrations to higher levels, connecting telepathically with each other and to the divine world, healing down to our ancestral roots, finding our purpose and carrying out the mission is unique to this time. No wonder so many souls jumped at the chance to not only be here witnessing the shift of humanity and our earth but to fully be immersed in the process! For some people, maybe like my brother, witnessing all of the corruption that has been brought to the light and darn right abuse of our earth is too much to bear, and his light energy just petered out.

It is my belief that whatever we decide to not learn here on earth, whether this is because of fear, or pain, will always come bobbing back for us to master. The lessons will come back after we, as souls, have been restored on another plane. But it will be in another life.

If I learned anything from my experiences, I know that feelings pass, help comes from unseen worlds, people in this world can become our allies and someone to confide in, or lean onto. We have to give permission to receive help, however. That is the key. More importantly, we have to ask for help.

In fact, I just wrote in my journal an experience that I had when I was so very young living on my own. I was drugged and raped at a party. I have carried shame about that experience with me for many decades. The main reason why this has come up is because of my brother Nate. He was my roommate at the time. I held the secret in all these years. In a way, I wrote about that experience to let him know what happened. I needed to know what happened too. I have combed through this before, but I wanted to do something different. I wanted to forgive, so I could let it go, but to never completely forget either. Burying any experience never works for very long.

I will handwrite that experience and will burn those pages that I have written on the eve of a full moon, so I can let that experience go. I also want to write to those three boys, who are now grown men, and let them know how much they hurt me and that I have forgiven them. Written words are powerful. I don’t have to give it to them, obviously, but it will be a spiritual exchange.

It is true that the person who holds on to hatred and resentment is the one who is punished. We are the ones who beat ourselves up. Forgiving someone for atrocities does not mean that I am letting them off the hook. It means that I am giving up that energy that is locking me to them when I was so innocent. Forgiving myself and forgiving them needs to happen. It already is in the works. I feel an opening inside.

As difficult as it has been to write about some of those old wounds, it has produced clarity and a sense of happiness. That piece is in my journal because it is so deeply personal. Writing about rape, at least for me, is showing myself that I should not feel embarrassed or ashamed for trusting someone at their word. I did not ask for the experience either.

I went through a few years of really hurting myself. I drank too much. I did too many drugs. I put myself in very dangerous situations. I was always surprised when I would wake up the next day. I had contemplated pushing that exit button, but then I thought of Nate. I did not want him to find me after everything we had been through with our mom. I had what would be considered a supernatural experience one night. I had to make a decision. I decided to live. And I did slowly regain a new life. Nate left Houston first. He told me he was moving to Colorado. When I asked why, he said, to get out of this shit hole.

My sister Irene and her family of four lived in the mountains. My parents re-married. My mom was newly sober. It was my father who was the one who picked me up, the broken bird that I was. Nate and I became roommates again. I became strong. I never told a soul what really went on after I left home.


The morning after I published this journal piece (the first attempt), I drove over to the high school where I used to go running with my dog. I had not been there since the divorce. So going back was surprisingly emotional. I was hit with this sudden epiphany that I am alive and not dead. Not only from the experience I had at nineteen, when I was first on my own, but other times throughout my life, even the most recent sexual assault experience that happened in 2014. I  felt like I had been so low in recent years that the only way I can go now is upward and outward, and that feels truly exciting. I had been in a similar place before, got out, and be damned, I will do it again.

I walked down the dirt path lined with tall trees. The wind was really moving the branches, and the leaves were gently fluttering likes a million butterfly wings. This nature path felt alive with energy; enchanted, as though I was being welcomed back.

I stopped and turned my attention to a few trees in a row to the right. A bobbling brook flowed below. Birds were chirping, squirrels were running about making chattering sounds. The wind picked up some more. My hair blew all over the place, skin kissed by the suns warmth.  I became aware of the subtle sounds from the rustle of leaves. I noticed the outreach of two branches of two trees extend out to each other like two hands, the different colors of green from the leaves to long grass that swayed below. There is so much to feel gratitude for, I thought.


If this resonates with you, I want you to know right now that you are loved. There is a purpose for you. If you are stuck in a place, you can get out. There is help here on this beautiful green earth and beyond. My life is a testimony that you too can transform from one place to something better.

I AM grounded.

xo Amelie


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