I don't know if any of you have watched the movie "Precious". I have to admit it is a ROUGH movie to watch. At times it is like watching my childhood lived out by another girl. I actually like movies like this. It helps me remember what I was feeling during different episodes of abuse in my home. It is hard to recall my feelings when, at the time, I wasn't able to feel much of anything. No emotion was safe in front of my mother. If I ever were to dare show a part of who I was I opened myself to certain ridicule or punishment. In one scene of the movie the young girl, Precious, was being yelled at by her very abusive mother. Precious stood at the top of the steps as her mother stood at the foot of the steps yelling profanities. This situation is all too familiar to me. When my mother was going to explode it was wise to get as far away from her as possible. If I could sense her rage coming on (hear her yelling from another room) I would often run up stairs or down the stairs...basically separate myself from my mother. It didn't stop her from raging at me. The same things Precious' mother yelled to her were yelled to me. "You bitch...you are stupid...you will never be anything...I should have never had children...I hate you...I am going to kill you...I will bust your head open...". I couldn't move. I remember my knees would lock up because I was scared to literally move a muscle. Often I would be yelled at long enough that my vision would go white and I was close to passing out from standing still. I can remember cursing her out in my head...the words I called her, whew, she would have killed me if I had said them aloud. I can remember having a feeling of bricks on my chest from the anger I felt inside...maybe the sorrow over what she was saying to me. Either way I wanted to burst open...I wanted to disappear...I wanted to lash out. I couldn't though...that would have meant her lashing back at me.
In the movie Precious' mother allowed her father to sexually abuse Precious. A social worker questions the mother about this. The mother tells this horrendous story that her baby's father first touched Precious as a little girl. Instead of stopping him she grew to resent her daughter. She didn't stop him because she feared there was no one else to love her. If she said something or put a stop to it her man would leave. She hated her daughter because the father "loved" Precious more. Precious ended up getting pregnant twice by her own father. Precious' mother resented her even more because the father gave Precious more children than he had given the mother. The hatred the mother felt allowed her to treat her daughter like a slave...like an animal. Precious was made to cook for her mother every night. The mother forced Precious to lie to social services so that the family could continue to receive welfare. Precious had something inside of her...something that made her keep going. She had a teacher who encouraged her to write it out.
The movie is based on a novel. The actual people and events are made up...but certainly possible in this world. My mother had to hate me in order to do the things she did to me. There is no other explanation. She put me in harms way to entice her husband to stay. She called me names and made me feel like I was nothing. She was selfish. I was always doing whatever I could to keep her from her rage. Whatever I did was never enough. She always found something to rage about. Meanwhile I never got the chance to learn who I was. I never had time to find out what I was good at or what I liked because my time and energy had to be spent on figuring out what would prevent her from beating me. She didn't direct me to discover these things either, like a mother is supposed to do for her children. I never learned that life could be about me. I never learned that I am allowed to have time to myself just doing nothing. I was always desperate to be one step ahead of my mother just to save myself the bruises. All the sudden I stepped into the real world when I left for college and was expected to delegate time to study to keep up my grades. I never learned to study. I never had time to do those things in a house where I was responsible for so many things and so many people. I was lost. I could survive in my mothers home. I had the skills to keep people from getting angry...I had the ability to numb myself from the hatred yelled at me...I lived every day just to be able to lay my head down on my own pillow at night. I didn't need those highly refined skills in the world that college offered. I was never taught to communicate or have a simple conversation. I was never taught to trust people. I knew how to keep my head down and just make it through a day. I found it impossible to function where the only skills I had were out of place. It tricked me many times into thinking I needed to go back home and stay there...that I just wasn't cut out to live and be happy like the other people I saw. When I got married (still don't know how that one happened!) it was made 1000 times worse! I felt like I was going to suffocate from the unconditional love my husband gave. What was his problem? Why didn't he call me names and hate me when I let him down?
My mother set me up. She just didn't know how to be a mother. Mother's are supposed to mold their children. Mother's are supposed to draw out their child's abilities and talents...even if it means their child decides to go away to college. A mother, in her true love for her children, gives them a safe place to come and go. A mother knows better than to expect her child to fill the wholes in her life. Talk about being born with a job! I never believed I was good at a thing. I didn't shine at all. I just turned 30 and it has only been in the last 6 months to a year that I have discovered there are things I enjoy. I can sew and I can write. I am not the best at either but I enjoy both equally. I love the release I get from writing to you all...I get out the filth and can take another step forward. I am in love with creating things with my sewing machine! My lifelong search for the perfect bag is coming close to an end!! I know I have always had these abilities but without someone to point them out...I never knew they were unique to me. I thought everyone could write. I thought everyone could sew. I took a Home Economics class in middle school and learned to sew there. I figured everyone had the same ability and there was nothing that made me stand out. I had a blue sundress as a kid. My grandmother gave it to me. When I grew out of the dress I knew I couldn't stand to see it passed down so I cut it up and made it into a purse. Now, this was not a functional purse at all but I made it all by myself. I think I would frame something like that if my Madeline ever did the same. I didn't take that purse to my mother. I was afraid she would get angry with me. I actually had hid up in our attic while I sewed it. I wanted to take a few sewing courses in high school but I didn't know I was allowed to ask. I was actually afraid to bring up the subject with my mother. I knew opening up a conversation about school would only end up in me being reminded what a failure I was.
I watched "The Little Mermaid" with Madeline the other day. (She knows all the Disney Princess' by the way;)) That movie means so much to me. Before you laugh let me explain. I saw that movie as a kid. I used to wish on the many things children think they can "wish" on that I would be turned into a mermaid. I am TOTALLY serious! I wanted this desperately...so much that I cried over this! I wanted to escape. I wanted to go away where no one could find me. Maybe the movie reminds me of how I made it through. I found ways to day dream and escape. We are planning a trip to Disney World in March. I can't tell you what this means to me...well, I can! I can't wait to introduce Maddie to Cinderella (or "Rella" as she calls her). I can't wait to take her to dinner where Rella will come and spend a few minutes with her. I WILL dress my daughter and son as their favorite Disney characters when we visit the Castle for that dinner. I want it to be a time of freedom and fun...for all of us. I think of what Disney movies mean to us and Eli. He is not able to communicate to us. We long to "know" him deeper. The only way we have really been able to connect to him is through watching movies and reading books about his favorite Disney characters. We connect there in his imagination. It is then that we all speak the same language. Eli will meet his favorite characters too. Our goal by then is to be able to communicate with him but still enjoy watching him squeal over seeing Buzz Lightyear and Woody. Maddie is really too young to remember this trip. I am not ashamed to say that I need this trip. I need to dress my daughter as a princess because all my life I have wanted to feel like a princess. I have been to Disney World before but always under the shadow of my mother. Now I go as the mother but allowing the little girl in me to run around that park unchained!!
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Strength
Eli started school last Monday. Evan and I had a rough time letting him go. We knew this was the first day of a long school career and Eli wasn't a baby any longer. We've known for months the long journey Eli had ahead of him and now it was beginning.
As Madeline has continued to reach milestones in her life it has revealed to us just how much Eli has to overcome. It is so painful, as his mother, to not have any way to just pour the knowledge and ability into him. Why can't I hand him something so important? Why can't my hugs and kisses make this better?
He cried the first day. He didn't know where he was and I had no way to help him understand where we were going and that mommy would come back to get him. He cried the second day too. The third day I saw something amazing in my son. I walked him into the room. He looked up at me with his lip quivering. My heart just broke. I gave him a kiss and a hug and a high five (of course!) and Maddie and I walked out of the room. What strength my little boy has inside of him. He has a character just like his father. He is quiet but just solid as a rock. He figures it out in his head and just does what he needs to do. Yesterday both of his teachers told me how mature Eli is compared to the other children. They were impressed how well he uses the bathroom on his own and does what they ask him to do. I almost cried. Hearing Eli's diagnosis devastated us. It ripped the rug out from under our little family. For over a year we've just been...down. Down and sad and mourning over the challenges Eli would face. Finally...FINALLY...he measured up. I know the word "measure" sounds a little cold. I have been looking at charts and statistics of where my son should be and where he was...I have been staring at the gaps and begging to be able to just carry him across the gap and bring him to a place he deserved to be. Here he was shining bright in every place he was able. What strength to overcome. I'd like to take credit but Eli gets it all. He has a long and challenging road ahead. Honestly, right now, I am afraid. I am afraid he won't be able to catch up. But in spite of my fears for his future I still hope and I trust. I trust his teachers. I trust the people who tell me they have seen miracles in kids like him. I trust God to build a character of endurance in my son. It seems impossible here at the beginning. I don't like waiting and I don't necessarily like trusting because it takes so freaking long sometimes...but I will so my very best to do these things because my Eli can do it!
As Madeline has continued to reach milestones in her life it has revealed to us just how much Eli has to overcome. It is so painful, as his mother, to not have any way to just pour the knowledge and ability into him. Why can't I hand him something so important? Why can't my hugs and kisses make this better?
He cried the first day. He didn't know where he was and I had no way to help him understand where we were going and that mommy would come back to get him. He cried the second day too. The third day I saw something amazing in my son. I walked him into the room. He looked up at me with his lip quivering. My heart just broke. I gave him a kiss and a hug and a high five (of course!) and Maddie and I walked out of the room. What strength my little boy has inside of him. He has a character just like his father. He is quiet but just solid as a rock. He figures it out in his head and just does what he needs to do. Yesterday both of his teachers told me how mature Eli is compared to the other children. They were impressed how well he uses the bathroom on his own and does what they ask him to do. I almost cried. Hearing Eli's diagnosis devastated us. It ripped the rug out from under our little family. For over a year we've just been...down. Down and sad and mourning over the challenges Eli would face. Finally...FINALLY...he measured up. I know the word "measure" sounds a little cold. I have been looking at charts and statistics of where my son should be and where he was...I have been staring at the gaps and begging to be able to just carry him across the gap and bring him to a place he deserved to be. Here he was shining bright in every place he was able. What strength to overcome. I'd like to take credit but Eli gets it all. He has a long and challenging road ahead. Honestly, right now, I am afraid. I am afraid he won't be able to catch up. But in spite of my fears for his future I still hope and I trust. I trust his teachers. I trust the people who tell me they have seen miracles in kids like him. I trust God to build a character of endurance in my son. It seems impossible here at the beginning. I don't like waiting and I don't necessarily like trusting because it takes so freaking long sometimes...but I will so my very best to do these things because my Eli can do it!
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Redeeming Love Center OPENS!!!!
Hey Ladies!! This past Saturday the Redeeming Love Center for Women opened/was dedicated in Toccoa. I was allowed to photograph the WHOLE event. I put the pictures online. Here is the link:
Redeeming Love Center photos
Please take a look when you can. It was a beautiful day! Our theme was butterflies which symbolize new beginnings. A special blessing came as the assistant director was singing "Better than a hallelujah" a yellow butterfly flew through the crowd then up and over the building. The little butterfly returned throughout the day. As I walked to me car I saw him again! A perfect way to end an amazing day!!
Redeeming Love Center photos
Please take a look when you can. It was a beautiful day! Our theme was butterflies which symbolize new beginnings. A special blessing came as the assistant director was singing "Better than a hallelujah" a yellow butterfly flew through the crowd then up and over the building. The little butterfly returned throughout the day. As I walked to me car I saw him again! A perfect way to end an amazing day!!
Thursday, July 22, 2010
I know it in my head!
I was reminded tonight that I usually need a "slap in the face" before I realize something as truth. For example, someone said to me tonight that I have an attitude about father's, fatherhood, and anything having to do with father's in my life! This was said to me in a loving but matter of fact way...just like I usually need. I DO have an attitude...an angry, pissed off attitude.
God presents Himself to us as a Father. Well, He should. He created us and watches over us and loves us in a similar way to an earthly Father. Jesus used parables the way publishers use pictures in books and manuals. Pictures quite literally show or explain the truth, the process being presented in a manual. Parables were used as mental pictures. God bringing himself to his people in a way they could relate to and understand. He loved them and wanted to be real to them. Imagine then, if you will, the ones who have had no father. There I am. No earthly father. I have never seen his face...not even a picture. He held me once as a baby but I have never felt his touch to my memory. He is a void. An emptiness...a nothing. He is a fantasy. In my dreams I "see" him but I always wake up right before he would reveal his face. All my life I have wanted with a desperation that I could sometimes feel in my chest to see my father. I still want my father. I still want him to come walking up my driveway...I feel so foolish but it is the truth. I am holding out. I am in a sort of waiting room. I wait for this man that I don't even know to come and make it all better. I have some sort of twisted hope that he will just come back and life will go on. It sounds so ridiculous, I know. I want him, I want him, I want him. I want to be the daughter! I want to belong to a man on this earth the way my Maddie belongs to her daddy. I want to be my dad's little girl. I want someone to look at me that way. I WANT IT!!! I can hear you all saying, "But God...". I know I am all this to God and more. I know what the Bible says...but the my heart doesn't speak Bible sometimes. Father is such a stupid, dirty, ugly word to me! Why me? In a room full of women weeping over things their father's did to them I can still feel lower than them all because I can sit and remember that mine just walked away. He never had a second thought. I was waste to him...a mistake, a burden, TRASH! He discarded me and left me for dead. I wonder if he even knows my name. How can I want him this much and he want me so little? It feels like a scarlet letter. All of you have a father but I am the bastard. I wasn't worth a second look. He might as well have wrapped me up in a trash bag and dumped me in the land fill.
I can tell you that my heart knows God never left me. I can tell you it was my father's choice to abandon me. Somehow the latter has more weight on how much I value myself! What a shame. The scars my father left on me cover me entirely. I know my wounds and my scars make up my story. I know my life has a purpose. I know God allows bad things to happen but He never authors it. (Someone said that to me tonight too...what a pleasant reminder!) Why is it so hard for me to say that God never meant for me to be fatherless. When I think of me it is automatic to think that I am fatherless. I have an easier time believing it was never meant to be...but it was, wasn't it? God intends for everyone to have two parents...hence the reproductive differences of the male and female!! He designed it this way for a purpose. A mother cannot fulfill the role of a father and a father cannot fulfill the role of a mother. We as human beings need both to become well rounded people. What happens when the family is not a complete circle...DAMAGE!! I know the damage exists in two parent families as well. But I can only speak to what I know. Sometimes I feel like a nomad. Where do I belong and from where (or whom) did I come? Man this really sucks!! I will probably never lay eyes on my father in this life or the next. I will never know who he is or what he looks like. That breaks my heart. I feel like everything has been taken from me...my mother and my father. I feel blind sometimes at the hand of these two people. I am a product of sin and I am lost. I am branded the bastard and all that comes with it.
I know I have purpose. I know the wrongs of the past will stay in the past. My children are the first in at least 2 generations to be held by their fathers. They will never be fatherless. That is a victory. I don't know what purpose my being fatherless will serve. I don't know why God can't pick up my father where he stands now and bring him to me. Well I guess I do know why He doesn't do that...my father would most likely walk away again. I just don't understand. I know that if my father were to come back I wouldn't know what to do with him. It wouldn't make all this pain just float away. He would be just as much a stranger to me as he is now. Fatherhood would still be blank to me.
I have left the spot vacant in my life. It doesn't feel right to let another man father me. It would feel like betrayal. I don't want another man there...maybe I don't want anyone there at all. Who knows??!! I know I am afraid of what I would face if I pulled apart the strings of that "area" of my life. It scares me to death. It would be like crossing the desert without a map...a road to certain death!! I don't think I have enough faith to face it all. How can I help other people when I am such a coward??
God presents Himself to us as a Father. Well, He should. He created us and watches over us and loves us in a similar way to an earthly Father. Jesus used parables the way publishers use pictures in books and manuals. Pictures quite literally show or explain the truth, the process being presented in a manual. Parables were used as mental pictures. God bringing himself to his people in a way they could relate to and understand. He loved them and wanted to be real to them. Imagine then, if you will, the ones who have had no father. There I am. No earthly father. I have never seen his face...not even a picture. He held me once as a baby but I have never felt his touch to my memory. He is a void. An emptiness...a nothing. He is a fantasy. In my dreams I "see" him but I always wake up right before he would reveal his face. All my life I have wanted with a desperation that I could sometimes feel in my chest to see my father. I still want my father. I still want him to come walking up my driveway...I feel so foolish but it is the truth. I am holding out. I am in a sort of waiting room. I wait for this man that I don't even know to come and make it all better. I have some sort of twisted hope that he will just come back and life will go on. It sounds so ridiculous, I know. I want him, I want him, I want him. I want to be the daughter! I want to belong to a man on this earth the way my Maddie belongs to her daddy. I want to be my dad's little girl. I want someone to look at me that way. I WANT IT!!! I can hear you all saying, "But God...". I know I am all this to God and more. I know what the Bible says...but the my heart doesn't speak Bible sometimes. Father is such a stupid, dirty, ugly word to me! Why me? In a room full of women weeping over things their father's did to them I can still feel lower than them all because I can sit and remember that mine just walked away. He never had a second thought. I was waste to him...a mistake, a burden, TRASH! He discarded me and left me for dead. I wonder if he even knows my name. How can I want him this much and he want me so little? It feels like a scarlet letter. All of you have a father but I am the bastard. I wasn't worth a second look. He might as well have wrapped me up in a trash bag and dumped me in the land fill.
I can tell you that my heart knows God never left me. I can tell you it was my father's choice to abandon me. Somehow the latter has more weight on how much I value myself! What a shame. The scars my father left on me cover me entirely. I know my wounds and my scars make up my story. I know my life has a purpose. I know God allows bad things to happen but He never authors it. (Someone said that to me tonight too...what a pleasant reminder!) Why is it so hard for me to say that God never meant for me to be fatherless. When I think of me it is automatic to think that I am fatherless. I have an easier time believing it was never meant to be...but it was, wasn't it? God intends for everyone to have two parents...hence the reproductive differences of the male and female!! He designed it this way for a purpose. A mother cannot fulfill the role of a father and a father cannot fulfill the role of a mother. We as human beings need both to become well rounded people. What happens when the family is not a complete circle...DAMAGE!! I know the damage exists in two parent families as well. But I can only speak to what I know. Sometimes I feel like a nomad. Where do I belong and from where (or whom) did I come? Man this really sucks!! I will probably never lay eyes on my father in this life or the next. I will never know who he is or what he looks like. That breaks my heart. I feel like everything has been taken from me...my mother and my father. I feel blind sometimes at the hand of these two people. I am a product of sin and I am lost. I am branded the bastard and all that comes with it.
I know I have purpose. I know the wrongs of the past will stay in the past. My children are the first in at least 2 generations to be held by their fathers. They will never be fatherless. That is a victory. I don't know what purpose my being fatherless will serve. I don't know why God can't pick up my father where he stands now and bring him to me. Well I guess I do know why He doesn't do that...my father would most likely walk away again. I just don't understand. I know that if my father were to come back I wouldn't know what to do with him. It wouldn't make all this pain just float away. He would be just as much a stranger to me as he is now. Fatherhood would still be blank to me.
I have left the spot vacant in my life. It doesn't feel right to let another man father me. It would feel like betrayal. I don't want another man there...maybe I don't want anyone there at all. Who knows??!! I know I am afraid of what I would face if I pulled apart the strings of that "area" of my life. It scares me to death. It would be like crossing the desert without a map...a road to certain death!! I don't think I have enough faith to face it all. How can I help other people when I am such a coward??
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
PMS...I hate you!!!
Women...we are made in a special way. Passion, love, anger, laughter, etc all wrapped into a pretty "package". The weaker sex...are not so weak! We may not lift cars over our heads but strength comes with many disguises. Most days of the month I would tell you I am proud I was made a woman. I'd tell you that we get the better role because we get to carry babies and go shopping for nice things (of course those are not of equal value to me). With the former comes a down side...one we can ungratefully thank Eve...PMS and "Aunt Flo"! I feel that the older I get the more uncontrollable these premenstrual symptoms get. So out of control that last month I was diagnosed with PMDD or Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder and prescribed Prozac. PMDD is basically symptoms of PMS only much much stronger. I described a span of about 5 days when I felt totally out of control over my emotions. I couldn't sleep and my body was tight with tension. When I woke up on the 6th day it was like I had slept for 24 hours. I felt lighter, enthusiastic, and happy. A total turn around.
A few times I have been "offered" medication for depression. In the years after my marriage but before I began my healing process I confessed to my husband that I thought I was depressed. After beginning the healing process I became determined to handle things on my own. I admired people who didn't have a "hang up" about medicating themselves...or didn't let it bother them. I couldn't admit my weakness was sometimes more that I could handle. This is a touchy subject especially in the church. I have heard interviews and read articles saying taking medication is ripping away trust in God and believing in God's healing power. I have to admit, I believed that to a point. I believe that many people suffering from psychiatric problems were once victims as children. I am no doctor so I can only speak from my own experience. I was functional as long as I was at home. Once I moved out the skills I'd used to survive my mother were no longer valid. I was lost. Actually, the word "lost" doesn't seem to weigh enough to cover what I was going through. I had absolutely no social skills. I was suspicious of everyone. I couldn't fit in anywhere. I might get close to someone but I would run away in fear. I was so awkward and weird. Not being able to fit in took a toll on my already minimal self esteem. Meanwhile I was trying to function on the outside with the leftovers of physical, emotional, and sexual abuse on the inside. I often couldn't contain my pain and resorted to cutting myself to get some kind of relief. I stopped after another girl was caught cutting herself. Her parents were called and everyone knew what she had done. My mind filled with the things that would happen to me if my mother found out I was doing the same. I cried myself to sleep most nights...even into my marriage. I was in a constant state of anger or rage. I rarely laughed or smiled. I fought with my husband constantly. Things had to be my way or no way. If something went wrong I lost my mind! I'd retreat and become reclusive. I certainly couldn't concentrate or perform in college and of course my grades suffered. As I have said before, I felt like the Antichrist. I am serious! I really felt like I was going to fulfill the role of the Antichrist...I felt evil. All of this lead me to feel like I was fooling everyone. No one knew how truly bad I was. It was only a matter of time. I literally felt that at some point in my life I would end up in a psychiatric hospital...no lie! I would hold it together as long as I possibly could but it would all end in psychosis! I just had to hide it as long as possible.
I do believe that God can heal in an instant. I have begged Him for healing hundreds of times but it has never come in an instant. I was begging God for the easy way out. If God had given me the easy way out I would no doubt find myself in trouble again lacking the wisdom I would have learned from overcoming the past. Like a good parent, God wanted what was best for me now so I can thrive in the future. I have been in this journey for 6 years now. I have come a long long way in 6 years but as most of us know this is a life long process. Scars fade but they never really disappear. I will fight this until I die...but that is okay. I wonder if my next battle is again with the emotional scars. I have never taken up the offers for depression medication. I think it was fear that kept me away from the help they might offer. I was afraid of addiction...I was afraid of not being myself...I was afraid my husband would love the wife on medication more than the wife I really was. Who could blame him?
Then, a few months ago, I was overcome with the symptoms I described above. I thank the Lord I never got physical with my kids, but I raised my voice (okay, I YELLED a lot!). I wasn't able to enjoy them or anything really. I found myself in tears at not being in control over my own emotions...my own body. I never wanted to take medication. I never wanted to admit it had all become to much to bare. I know the things that were done to me so I know that it is in me to do the same to my children. That I CANNOT bare. It takes a lot out of me to admit I can't control "it" on my own. I look 20 years down the road. What will matter more; that my children are happy and functioning adults or that I had to take a few pills every month to help things not get out of hand? Ugh, it is a daily choice sometimes. If I know that I am feeling the "symptoms" do I choose something I think shows weakness in me (a pill) or do I forsake all stigma and choose my children over it all? I choose my children. I will always ultimately choose my children.
A few times I have been "offered" medication for depression. In the years after my marriage but before I began my healing process I confessed to my husband that I thought I was depressed. After beginning the healing process I became determined to handle things on my own. I admired people who didn't have a "hang up" about medicating themselves...or didn't let it bother them. I couldn't admit my weakness was sometimes more that I could handle. This is a touchy subject especially in the church. I have heard interviews and read articles saying taking medication is ripping away trust in God and believing in God's healing power. I have to admit, I believed that to a point. I believe that many people suffering from psychiatric problems were once victims as children. I am no doctor so I can only speak from my own experience. I was functional as long as I was at home. Once I moved out the skills I'd used to survive my mother were no longer valid. I was lost. Actually, the word "lost" doesn't seem to weigh enough to cover what I was going through. I had absolutely no social skills. I was suspicious of everyone. I couldn't fit in anywhere. I might get close to someone but I would run away in fear. I was so awkward and weird. Not being able to fit in took a toll on my already minimal self esteem. Meanwhile I was trying to function on the outside with the leftovers of physical, emotional, and sexual abuse on the inside. I often couldn't contain my pain and resorted to cutting myself to get some kind of relief. I stopped after another girl was caught cutting herself. Her parents were called and everyone knew what she had done. My mind filled with the things that would happen to me if my mother found out I was doing the same. I cried myself to sleep most nights...even into my marriage. I was in a constant state of anger or rage. I rarely laughed or smiled. I fought with my husband constantly. Things had to be my way or no way. If something went wrong I lost my mind! I'd retreat and become reclusive. I certainly couldn't concentrate or perform in college and of course my grades suffered. As I have said before, I felt like the Antichrist. I am serious! I really felt like I was going to fulfill the role of the Antichrist...I felt evil. All of this lead me to feel like I was fooling everyone. No one knew how truly bad I was. It was only a matter of time. I literally felt that at some point in my life I would end up in a psychiatric hospital...no lie! I would hold it together as long as I possibly could but it would all end in psychosis! I just had to hide it as long as possible.
I do believe that God can heal in an instant. I have begged Him for healing hundreds of times but it has never come in an instant. I was begging God for the easy way out. If God had given me the easy way out I would no doubt find myself in trouble again lacking the wisdom I would have learned from overcoming the past. Like a good parent, God wanted what was best for me now so I can thrive in the future. I have been in this journey for 6 years now. I have come a long long way in 6 years but as most of us know this is a life long process. Scars fade but they never really disappear. I will fight this until I die...but that is okay. I wonder if my next battle is again with the emotional scars. I have never taken up the offers for depression medication. I think it was fear that kept me away from the help they might offer. I was afraid of addiction...I was afraid of not being myself...I was afraid my husband would love the wife on medication more than the wife I really was. Who could blame him?
Then, a few months ago, I was overcome with the symptoms I described above. I thank the Lord I never got physical with my kids, but I raised my voice (okay, I YELLED a lot!). I wasn't able to enjoy them or anything really. I found myself in tears at not being in control over my own emotions...my own body. I never wanted to take medication. I never wanted to admit it had all become to much to bare. I know the things that were done to me so I know that it is in me to do the same to my children. That I CANNOT bare. It takes a lot out of me to admit I can't control "it" on my own. I look 20 years down the road. What will matter more; that my children are happy and functioning adults or that I had to take a few pills every month to help things not get out of hand? Ugh, it is a daily choice sometimes. If I know that I am feeling the "symptoms" do I choose something I think shows weakness in me (a pill) or do I forsake all stigma and choose my children over it all? I choose my children. I will always ultimately choose my children.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
The best advice
I read this in a story about billionaire, Warren Buffett, today. No doubt the journalist was hoping for some stock market key to a quick fortune when she asked him what was the best advice he ever received...but that isn't what she was given. Buffet recounts the best advice he's ever received, "The power of unconditional love. I mean, there is no power on earth like unconditional love. And I think that if you offered that to your child, I mean you’re 90 percent of the way home. There may be days when you don’t feel like it, it’s not uncritical love, that’s a different animal, but to know you can always come back, that is huge in life. That takes you a long, long way. And I would say that every parent out there that can extend that to their child at an early age, it’s going to make for a better human being." WOW!!! This from a man who can give his kids ANYTHING they ever had a small want for but he would rather enrich them with love. he would rather build their character than their collection of toys.
Buffet comments that his own father loved him unconditionally. I understand (I mean a seriously bitter understanding) that being shown a love like this makes it a HELL of a lot easier to give it away. We know that Jesus allowed Himself to be beaten and nailed to a cross because He would rather Himself die than any of us...we can know that but do you ever wish you could have seen Jesus? I do!! I WISH I could have been one of those children running to sit as close as I could to Jesus. I WISH I could have felt His Fatherly touch on my face. I know, I know I can return to be "like a child" but don't say it to me! I can NEVER get a second chance to be a little girl! I can never go back and live a safe childhood. It just wasn't meant to be. Some would call me a "doubting Thomas" because I want to SEE Jesus. Don't worry, I'd rather speak my own truth than stand behind what I am "supposed" to do. I want to see Jesus. I want him to sit next to me and tell me what the truth is..I want him to be visible to my eyes...I want a picture to put in a frame to remind me of my good friend J.C.!!! But do I really want that? *sigh*No, not really. I mean, wouldn't putting Jesus in a frame somehow put a limit on Him? If I could touch him...wouldn't I eventually forget? If I could sit with him...wouldn't I eventually have to look away or say goodbye? Wouldn't that put an end to my faith? I mean isn't it my drive in life to do the best I possibly can so that I can die (in God's time...I am not suicidal!!) and LOOK out and see JESUS???
My past is what it is. As I have said before I wouldn't change it (I couldn't anyway...even though I've tried!). Would I be sitting here right now typing out these words if I was loved as a child? Nope! Would I even be able to hold company with those of you that read this? I could but it would not be the intimacy we share. So, I am good. I will take what I have and keep pressing on...bound to fail again and again...but get up, brush myself off and hope no one saw!! But seriously, I too wish I could pave the way in life for my children. I wish I could be perfection for them. I wish I was a billionaire so they would want for nothing. I KNOW I try to make up for my low self esteem as a mother when I buy my kids things they don't really need. Truth is, they forget about those things within a millisecond of receiving them...and then I am left to "prove" my worth again. Prove it to whom? They don't understand what I am doing! Will a pretty doll make Maddies "owie" go away next time? Not at all...but mommy's kiss will. Will Eli's new Buzz Lightyear shirt comfort him when he wakes up in the middle of the night? Nope, but mommy's hugs will. Bottom line, my kids know where to run when they are hurt or scared. They can't run to me when they are 30 and fall off of something (Eli will most likely still be climbing things when he is that age!)! But they will know it is safe to cry, it is safe to be angry, it is safe to go to someone you love...and a whole bunch of other things I cannot understand as the messed up person I am (lol!). Love will fill the holes. God promises us this...I don't often see how love can bypass my craziness but...I have to believe the God who let his own son leave home knowing the only way he'd see him again was after his son had died a gruesome death JUST so God could usher me into heaven someday. I can't wake up in the morning and think if I hug and kiss my kids that I no longer have to sort through the crap I wade in from the past. THAT would not be love. I am saying that I will fail. I will lose my temper. I will (and do) raise my voice. If I have laid a foundation of love...and prove it again and again, love will cover the mistakes and my kids will be whole human beings. On that day mom will take a looooooong nap! Unconditional love is exhausting and a little messy!!
Buffet comments that his own father loved him unconditionally. I understand (I mean a seriously bitter understanding) that being shown a love like this makes it a HELL of a lot easier to give it away. We know that Jesus allowed Himself to be beaten and nailed to a cross because He would rather Himself die than any of us...we can know that but do you ever wish you could have seen Jesus? I do!! I WISH I could have been one of those children running to sit as close as I could to Jesus. I WISH I could have felt His Fatherly touch on my face. I know, I know I can return to be "like a child" but don't say it to me! I can NEVER get a second chance to be a little girl! I can never go back and live a safe childhood. It just wasn't meant to be. Some would call me a "doubting Thomas" because I want to SEE Jesus. Don't worry, I'd rather speak my own truth than stand behind what I am "supposed" to do. I want to see Jesus. I want him to sit next to me and tell me what the truth is..I want him to be visible to my eyes...I want a picture to put in a frame to remind me of my good friend J.C.!!! But do I really want that? *sigh*No, not really. I mean, wouldn't putting Jesus in a frame somehow put a limit on Him? If I could touch him...wouldn't I eventually forget? If I could sit with him...wouldn't I eventually have to look away or say goodbye? Wouldn't that put an end to my faith? I mean isn't it my drive in life to do the best I possibly can so that I can die (in God's time...I am not suicidal!!) and LOOK out and see JESUS???
My past is what it is. As I have said before I wouldn't change it (I couldn't anyway...even though I've tried!). Would I be sitting here right now typing out these words if I was loved as a child? Nope! Would I even be able to hold company with those of you that read this? I could but it would not be the intimacy we share. So, I am good. I will take what I have and keep pressing on...bound to fail again and again...but get up, brush myself off and hope no one saw!! But seriously, I too wish I could pave the way in life for my children. I wish I could be perfection for them. I wish I was a billionaire so they would want for nothing. I KNOW I try to make up for my low self esteem as a mother when I buy my kids things they don't really need. Truth is, they forget about those things within a millisecond of receiving them...and then I am left to "prove" my worth again. Prove it to whom? They don't understand what I am doing! Will a pretty doll make Maddies "owie" go away next time? Not at all...but mommy's kiss will. Will Eli's new Buzz Lightyear shirt comfort him when he wakes up in the middle of the night? Nope, but mommy's hugs will. Bottom line, my kids know where to run when they are hurt or scared. They can't run to me when they are 30 and fall off of something (Eli will most likely still be climbing things when he is that age!)! But they will know it is safe to cry, it is safe to be angry, it is safe to go to someone you love...and a whole bunch of other things I cannot understand as the messed up person I am (lol!). Love will fill the holes. God promises us this...I don't often see how love can bypass my craziness but...I have to believe the God who let his own son leave home knowing the only way he'd see him again was after his son had died a gruesome death JUST so God could usher me into heaven someday. I can't wake up in the morning and think if I hug and kiss my kids that I no longer have to sort through the crap I wade in from the past. THAT would not be love. I am saying that I will fail. I will lose my temper. I will (and do) raise my voice. If I have laid a foundation of love...and prove it again and again, love will cover the mistakes and my kids will be whole human beings. On that day mom will take a looooooong nap! Unconditional love is exhausting and a little messy!!
Sunday, July 4, 2010
High treason
We had an interesting discussion in small groups today at church. Someone remarked how they thought it odd or uncomfortable that people would stand up (unprovoked) during a patriotic song but might not do the same during a song that spoke about our heavenly citizenship. Where or how do we separate patriotism from being "of the world"? Someone even mentioned that they believed the country was indeed NOT founded on biblical principles. Which sparked a debate. Not to mention one man's feeling awkward at saying the pledge of allegiance in church. I thought about this to myself (although the history teacher in me was SCREAMING to be heard!!). I thought of the very fact of our debating over such things about our country INSIDE of a church...the irony was too much. You have to take all this in from a historical perspective. We get hot under the collar and yell at each other over religion and patriotism because we are spoiled. Very few places in the world will allow such outspokenness...often speaking out will land you in jail or worse. Opinions are not as tolerated as they are on our soil. Two hundred and thirty five years ago our country was born. It was not a joyous occasion for all. We didn't get swaddled and kissed by "mommy". We were born out of rebellion...we could be considered a "bastard child" if you will. Meeting in Independence Hall (as it is now known) was treason...not to mention drafting and then SIGNING the Declaration of Independence! Imagine if your own child wrote you a letter basically saying they were moving out and emancipating themselves because they didn't like the way you and dad spent the income! Yes, the colonies were the epitome of the unruly child. But there is a beauty in that. I myself am the mother of a strong willed child. It is a rough place to be but I can see past the tantrums and high pitched screams...her spirit. As a child, Madeline cannot control her desire for what she wants...she has no boundaries or self control. She doesn't give up easily...hence the 7 minute screaming fits!! What passion that will turn into!! How safe those whom she will love will be in her arms. She will fight for what she knows is right...stubbornness isn't always bad. My girl is just like me! The colonists had their reasons for their "rebellious streak". The men who signed the declaration faced torture and death if they had lost the war. They had passion and they were stubborn! What if they had not been this way? We'd be sitting in a Catholic Church guarding what we said against the Queen! This was one tantrum I am thankful for. Is not the woman (or man) who seeks healing from his past not in rebellion too? She dares to question the "way it has always been". She dares face pain and past in the face...not always winning the battle but winning the war. Is she not brave and courageous?? Does she not face a giant demanding it release her?
I had to laugh when the comment was made that our country was not founded on biblical principles. Not all the framers of the constitution were considered (or considered themselves) Christians. A large majority of they didn't live the lives of what we would consider "Christian". George Washington himself had slaves and even "bought" (sure he did) these slaves teeth to create on of his infamous dentures. He did not value all life as equal. He did believe that God had saved him from death many times throughout his lifetime so that he could lead this newly formed nation. Otherwise, he would have turned down the Presidency. Bottom line, our founding fathers were just as flawed as we are today. Society was more accepting of the bible and the state (government) being intermingled or unseperated from religion. It was all that any man had known. To question that...well, there wasn't much of a question. Besides, even the non-christian could see the value in "biblical" principles. Do not steal, do not murder, etc. We also have to remember the "attitude" on slavery. White men believed that God had nothing against slavery. Although, the doubt was already present with some. White men simply believed the African was below him. He had been taught this by his father and he would teach this to his son. Women were also inferior because that is just the way it was. We know that this is NOT the way God felt. We KNOW God created us all and we are all equal in his sight. We also know the horrendous events that transpired because of this "belief" among early Americans. I don't excuse slavery. To lord over another human being is evil. But to say that our country was not founded on Biblical principles is not true. We cannot blame John Adams for abortion laws of today. Get real people! There wouldn't be so many amendments to the constitution if the men who wrote it were without sin or sinful attitudes. Our country grows and it changes. The Constitution is a foundation. I admire the rebellious people who stood up to King George! These men were not perfect. Some made HUGE mistakes. But why would I expect them to be perfect. Only Jesus was without sin. Jesus is set apart. I am an American. I am proud to live here and (most of the time) there is no where else I would rather be. I will not be here forever. Someday I will die and go to my real home. I do not worship or have a worship attitude when I sing "America the Beautiful". I know that the pledge of allegiance was originally propaganda meant to drill "allegiance" into the children of a new nation. If I keep an attitude of Heaven as my HOME this does not bother me. There is history all around me. To forget the past condemns us to repeat it's mistakes. We ALL know that all too well. I remember the times my mother beat me, spat on me, or said she hated me...I remember them clear as day. Do they spark me into hate, sometimes. Do they make me mad, sometimes. Do they keep me in sadness, NO! I see how far I have come. I see the future when I watch my daughter walk down the isle knowing I did the very best I could and she is a whole woman! I get courage from the past. I face my daily healing and my future with bravery. I fail. I fail BIG TIME! But the war will be won. Every battle gives me strength and wisdom for the next. I am in rebellion too. I rebel against the cycle of abuse for generations past. I rebel against beating and hating my own children as I was taught to do. I rebel against my mother and have lost because of it. Rebellion is not beautiful...often painful and bloody but I will not give up. Founding fathers, however flawed, had a GREAT idea! Happy 4th of July everyone. See you around our this land till we all go HOME!!!
I had to laugh when the comment was made that our country was not founded on biblical principles. Not all the framers of the constitution were considered (or considered themselves) Christians. A large majority of they didn't live the lives of what we would consider "Christian". George Washington himself had slaves and even "bought" (sure he did) these slaves teeth to create on of his infamous dentures. He did not value all life as equal. He did believe that God had saved him from death many times throughout his lifetime so that he could lead this newly formed nation. Otherwise, he would have turned down the Presidency. Bottom line, our founding fathers were just as flawed as we are today. Society was more accepting of the bible and the state (government) being intermingled or unseperated from religion. It was all that any man had known. To question that...well, there wasn't much of a question. Besides, even the non-christian could see the value in "biblical" principles. Do not steal, do not murder, etc. We also have to remember the "attitude" on slavery. White men believed that God had nothing against slavery. Although, the doubt was already present with some. White men simply believed the African was below him. He had been taught this by his father and he would teach this to his son. Women were also inferior because that is just the way it was. We know that this is NOT the way God felt. We KNOW God created us all and we are all equal in his sight. We also know the horrendous events that transpired because of this "belief" among early Americans. I don't excuse slavery. To lord over another human being is evil. But to say that our country was not founded on Biblical principles is not true. We cannot blame John Adams for abortion laws of today. Get real people! There wouldn't be so many amendments to the constitution if the men who wrote it were without sin or sinful attitudes. Our country grows and it changes. The Constitution is a foundation. I admire the rebellious people who stood up to King George! These men were not perfect. Some made HUGE mistakes. But why would I expect them to be perfect. Only Jesus was without sin. Jesus is set apart. I am an American. I am proud to live here and (most of the time) there is no where else I would rather be. I will not be here forever. Someday I will die and go to my real home. I do not worship or have a worship attitude when I sing "America the Beautiful". I know that the pledge of allegiance was originally propaganda meant to drill "allegiance" into the children of a new nation. If I keep an attitude of Heaven as my HOME this does not bother me. There is history all around me. To forget the past condemns us to repeat it's mistakes. We ALL know that all too well. I remember the times my mother beat me, spat on me, or said she hated me...I remember them clear as day. Do they spark me into hate, sometimes. Do they make me mad, sometimes. Do they keep me in sadness, NO! I see how far I have come. I see the future when I watch my daughter walk down the isle knowing I did the very best I could and she is a whole woman! I get courage from the past. I face my daily healing and my future with bravery. I fail. I fail BIG TIME! But the war will be won. Every battle gives me strength and wisdom for the next. I am in rebellion too. I rebel against the cycle of abuse for generations past. I rebel against beating and hating my own children as I was taught to do. I rebel against my mother and have lost because of it. Rebellion is not beautiful...often painful and bloody but I will not give up. Founding fathers, however flawed, had a GREAT idea! Happy 4th of July everyone. See you around our this land till we all go HOME!!!
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