👻 Because I’ve been talking… and the silence is starting to feel personal.
I’ve screamed into the sky.
Whispered into pillows.
Left voice memos in the shape of prayers.
And all I got back was static.
Is this what a spiritual breakup feels like?
No texts. No signs. No miracles.
Just a blank blue bubble where comfort used to be.
They told me God is always listening.
But when I was bleeding out in a bathroom stall,
when I was detoxing from every substance except hope,
when I was rocking myself to sleep with psalms I barely believed—
He stayed on “Read.”
I’m not mad. I’m just confused.
Because if omnipresence is real,
why does this feel like emotional abandonment?
I’ve loved people who didn’t love me back.
But loving a God who ghosts you?
That’s a whole new brand of codependency.
I’m not asking for lightning.
I’m asking for anything.
A whisper. A flicker. A glitch in the matrix.
I’d settle for a cloud shaped like a middle finger
as long as it proves You’re still watching.
Because silence, after trauma,
doesn’t feel peaceful—it feels like punishment.
And praying with CPTSD
is like calling your dad from jail
and getting the dial tone.
🎯 Audience Connection:
This is for:
- The spiritually ghosted
- The sober but still shattered
- The ones who never stopped calling
- The ones who stopped and now wonder why