Tomorrow night I begin to speak TO my perpetrator about...IT.
First my angry letter, which was difficult but needed, and now I must look him in the eye and tell him why I have been mostly avoiding him since July of last year; since I first began to see the reality of it all.
Over 6 months of avoiding someone with whom I used to be close, (in a fearfully split, pitying, self-righteous way), and now, the beginnings of Truth spoken aloud: the invitation to walk in Truth and to begin to heal together.
Fathom it...a familial relationship being rebuilt with honesty, vulnerability, trust...oh, what an opportunity to begin a brand new thing.
"...Love rejoices with the Truth..." I Corinthians 13
"...Love keeps no record of wrongs..." I Corinthians 13
Oh, Jesus, grant me courage and resolve.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Healing
Family.
I have a unique and kindhearted and deeply wounded family.
Are not all humans deeply wounded in some way or another? I believe we are, or will be at some point in our journeys, deeply wounded.
The question is...what will we do with those wounds?
Will we ignore the wounds? Will we deny their impact in our everyday lives? Will we rely on self sufficiency? Will we storm through life without ever having truly understood what happened and what it caused?
What will we do when we DO find out??
When we discover that our daily struggles and incompetencies and insecurities are actually all related...if indeed they are...to one single root, one event, one series of related events...what then?
Do we run away and hide from the overwhelming tidal wave of understanding...after all these years? Do we, in a sense, play hide and seek with those whom we are slowly learning to trust? Or, is it more like Peek-a-Boo?
Do we allow the waters of Truth to cleanse us? To begin to wash the eyes of our hearts and minds and spirits, and step by step, renew our entire worldview?
Do we allow the rough sands of earthy reality to slowly slough away the toughness of our skin? Do we gradually push against the pressure of the winds of conflict, which comes from honesty finally borne?
Do we receive the warmth of the open-aired, fresh-skied sunshine, to wrap us in enough heat that we eventually remove our own heavy armour, which we have faithfully endured for oh-so-long? Or, do we put up our shield against those shining, healing rays?
I would say that I do all of the above, in addition to other variants. The pain that comes with understanding is sometimes overwhelming to the point of the deepest grief wrought by personal tragedy. During these times, I must rest and mourn, and rest, and protect myself from the harsher elements on the 'outside' of my freshly re-injured state. Then, there are times when I can stand again, after having cried on a friends shoulder, or simply in their home with them near. I know I am loved and cared for by them, by humans dear to my heart, and I can take the next steps with renewed energy. With hope.
It is as if a layer has been removed from this awful grave in which I have been living for the majority of my life.
From my perspective, each person who helps me in my healing process, is Jesus in People Skin. They are not mindless creatures being controlled by a Domineering God. They are men and women redeemed from their own hellish turmoil, in the process of healing from their own wounds, reaching out to me in self-less Love. Their process of renewal spills onto my journey of healing because of what Jesus is - and has been - doing in their lives (whether they consciously realize it or not!).
None of these men and women and children have 'arrived', have earned their 'wings' or 'halos'. None of them are completely free of the pain of their own wounds. Each has their own burdens to carry, day in and day out. And, yet, the love in their hearts is able to spill out onto me in every time of need.
I have only to ask.
When I remember.
This, I whole-heartedly believe, is God's intent: for each of us to be interdependent upon one another. This takes humility on our part, and self-sacrifice on theirs. The roles are reversed as needed, of course.
We are the BODY. We are HIS Body. How can we be unified if we are completely self-sufficient (or, if we live in the delusion of self-sufficiency)? How can we grow if we depend only upon our own understanding of God and of the world around us? How can we HEAL if our souls are dammed up inside of us, unable to connect deeply with our brothers and sisters around us???
It's like water that is unmoving. It becomes stagnant, smelly, and likely infected with many diseases. It is unfit for consumption, unable to sustain life.
BUT, a body of water connected to a Mighty, moving Water Source is fresh, abundant, and life giving...not because it is trying, but because it...IS. Living Water.
Jesus is the Living Water; He is within His own Body of Believers. When we, as Believers, are open and available to be healed by Him, through Him, through His people, I think we will then be open to help heal others. We are, thus, acting in likeness of Him. We can only be open because of Him, however, since our wounded nature usually tends to fight or to fly in times of trouble or hardship, or perceived threat.
Thanks be to God for healing brought by gentleness, love, comfort, encouragement, Truth aptly applied, and deepening connections with others whom we can walk alongside.
Thanks be to God for forgiveness throughout our journey. His forgiveness of us, producing our forgiveness (and tremendous release) of others.
"Our Father, which art in Heaven,
Hallowed be Thy Name....
...and forgive us our tresspasses
as we forgive those who tresspass(ed) against us..."
Tresspassed. Past tense.
Today I realized that this prayer includes the past.
I am smiling with thankfulness.
Freedom comes with receipt of Truth, repentance, forgiveness, release, stepping forward, and repeating as necessary. As I learn to enact this rough, easier-said-than-done process, I become lighter, more resilient, more confident, loving, and at ease. As a start. :-)
Thanks be to God that I have the priviledge of practicing on friends as well as family. After prolonged avoidance of certain family members, God's love is renewing my heart and mind that I may step forward and love my broken, wounded, Gift of a family. One step at a time. With only one aim....to LOVE. Not to change, not to manipulate, not to accuse, not to appease. To LOVE. The puzzle is figuring out what LOVE means in each scenario. But...with my Source's help, this will get 'easier' with practice.
Next time I think I'll be able to share more concrete details with much less ambiguity.
I have a unique and kindhearted and deeply wounded family.
Are not all humans deeply wounded in some way or another? I believe we are, or will be at some point in our journeys, deeply wounded.
The question is...what will we do with those wounds?
Will we ignore the wounds? Will we deny their impact in our everyday lives? Will we rely on self sufficiency? Will we storm through life without ever having truly understood what happened and what it caused?
What will we do when we DO find out??
When we discover that our daily struggles and incompetencies and insecurities are actually all related...if indeed they are...to one single root, one event, one series of related events...what then?
Do we run away and hide from the overwhelming tidal wave of understanding...after all these years? Do we, in a sense, play hide and seek with those whom we are slowly learning to trust? Or, is it more like Peek-a-Boo?
Do we allow the waters of Truth to cleanse us? To begin to wash the eyes of our hearts and minds and spirits, and step by step, renew our entire worldview?
Do we allow the rough sands of earthy reality to slowly slough away the toughness of our skin? Do we gradually push against the pressure of the winds of conflict, which comes from honesty finally borne?
Do we receive the warmth of the open-aired, fresh-skied sunshine, to wrap us in enough heat that we eventually remove our own heavy armour, which we have faithfully endured for oh-so-long? Or, do we put up our shield against those shining, healing rays?
I would say that I do all of the above, in addition to other variants. The pain that comes with understanding is sometimes overwhelming to the point of the deepest grief wrought by personal tragedy. During these times, I must rest and mourn, and rest, and protect myself from the harsher elements on the 'outside' of my freshly re-injured state. Then, there are times when I can stand again, after having cried on a friends shoulder, or simply in their home with them near. I know I am loved and cared for by them, by humans dear to my heart, and I can take the next steps with renewed energy. With hope.
It is as if a layer has been removed from this awful grave in which I have been living for the majority of my life.
From my perspective, each person who helps me in my healing process, is Jesus in People Skin. They are not mindless creatures being controlled by a Domineering God. They are men and women redeemed from their own hellish turmoil, in the process of healing from their own wounds, reaching out to me in self-less Love. Their process of renewal spills onto my journey of healing because of what Jesus is - and has been - doing in their lives (whether they consciously realize it or not!).
None of these men and women and children have 'arrived', have earned their 'wings' or 'halos'. None of them are completely free of the pain of their own wounds. Each has their own burdens to carry, day in and day out. And, yet, the love in their hearts is able to spill out onto me in every time of need.
I have only to ask.
When I remember.
This, I whole-heartedly believe, is God's intent: for each of us to be interdependent upon one another. This takes humility on our part, and self-sacrifice on theirs. The roles are reversed as needed, of course.
We are the BODY. We are HIS Body. How can we be unified if we are completely self-sufficient (or, if we live in the delusion of self-sufficiency)? How can we grow if we depend only upon our own understanding of God and of the world around us? How can we HEAL if our souls are dammed up inside of us, unable to connect deeply with our brothers and sisters around us???
It's like water that is unmoving. It becomes stagnant, smelly, and likely infected with many diseases. It is unfit for consumption, unable to sustain life.
BUT, a body of water connected to a Mighty, moving Water Source is fresh, abundant, and life giving...not because it is trying, but because it...IS. Living Water.
Jesus is the Living Water; He is within His own Body of Believers. When we, as Believers, are open and available to be healed by Him, through Him, through His people, I think we will then be open to help heal others. We are, thus, acting in likeness of Him. We can only be open because of Him, however, since our wounded nature usually tends to fight or to fly in times of trouble or hardship, or perceived threat.
Thanks be to God for healing brought by gentleness, love, comfort, encouragement, Truth aptly applied, and deepening connections with others whom we can walk alongside.
Thanks be to God for forgiveness throughout our journey. His forgiveness of us, producing our forgiveness (and tremendous release) of others.
"Our Father, which art in Heaven,
Hallowed be Thy Name....
...and forgive us our tresspasses
as we forgive those who tresspass(ed) against us..."
Tresspassed. Past tense.
Today I realized that this prayer includes the past.
I am smiling with thankfulness.
Freedom comes with receipt of Truth, repentance, forgiveness, release, stepping forward, and repeating as necessary. As I learn to enact this rough, easier-said-than-done process, I become lighter, more resilient, more confident, loving, and at ease. As a start. :-)
Thanks be to God that I have the priviledge of practicing on friends as well as family. After prolonged avoidance of certain family members, God's love is renewing my heart and mind that I may step forward and love my broken, wounded, Gift of a family. One step at a time. With only one aim....to LOVE. Not to change, not to manipulate, not to accuse, not to appease. To LOVE. The puzzle is figuring out what LOVE means in each scenario. But...with my Source's help, this will get 'easier' with practice.
Next time I think I'll be able to share more concrete details with much less ambiguity.
Thursday, February 2, 2012
Addicted to Isolation
What is a 'Safe Place?'
A 'safe place' is where I feel no judgement, no overwhelming risk, total acceptance of where I am right now.
Where is that safe place?
For me, just the act of speaking out loud what I'm thinking and feeling makes me feel very 'unsafe.' It didn't used to be this bad, but when there is deeper, darker stuff...vulnerability is just really hard.
I can recall one specific time when I felt noticeably safe. I'd parked in the parking lot at my church and had a little bit of time just to sit before going in. I was overwhelmed with a feeling of being safe and secure. Completely overwhelmed. I've never felt that before or since, and all I can attribute it to was that somebody must have prayed for me for that specific thing. Maybe my mom or dad.
Right now I am back in the mode of lying everywhere I go. I don't feel safe enough to tell people how I'm really doing and what I'm really thinking, so I just go on automatic pilot until I'm alone. Then, I cram garbage food down my face, which only adds to my feelings of guilt and shame and condemnation and all kinds of other junk. Meanwhile, nothing is truly resolved.
I guess I just want to be alone all the time because it's too tiring to keep up the facade. Unfortunately, alone-ness is so deceptively beckoning that once it ensnares you, it keeps you begging for more while giving little to nothing in return, and it takes from you far more than it gives. It's like being an addict.
A safe place is here.
Online.
Alone.
Nobody to make eye contact with, or to avoid;
Nobody to force me to deal with things in a face-to-face, adult fashion.
My pseudo room with a faux lamp and chairs, and false cracking, crumbling walls...empty...
It is completely void of the risk AND of the reward of true vulnerability. A safe, empty blogspot-room with which to finally be honest. A vacuum.
Well, 'safe place', I want you to know that I began my first draft of my angry letter to my perpetrator. Actually, the first night I opened my blogspot here was a night I couldn't sleep, so I finally began drafting the letter later on that very night. It was 4:30am before I was able to start falling asleep.
If you only knew...if anybody only knew...how much I want to drop everything and run away. That letter opens up a whole new can of worms, as it is one step closer to the reality of confrontation. This, too, adds a layer of shame for my lack of being able to deal with reality. All I can see anymore is how much I screw up and how poorly I am handling my life, and every manner in which I am failing.
Me.
My eyes are downcast, my spirit is suffocating, I NEED to step outside of my head and let somebody in. I am filling myself with doubt and despair and disillusionment...allowing darkness to overtake the tiny flicker of light inside of me. My choices are allowing this...again...my own fault...shame and guilt...(gag!!)
The sorrow of this world brings death, but the sorrow of repentance brings life, right? So, my sorrow is of this world, not from God, so...where ought I to place my eyes?
Up.
I lift UP mine eyes to the hills, from whence comes my strength...
Not drawing from within, but from without...
O, God, I have nothing. I am empty of anything life-giving or worthwhile. I have no love inside of me. I'm like a zombie, living with no Life.
Help me, Jesus...
A 'safe place' is where I feel no judgement, no overwhelming risk, total acceptance of where I am right now.
Where is that safe place?
For me, just the act of speaking out loud what I'm thinking and feeling makes me feel very 'unsafe.' It didn't used to be this bad, but when there is deeper, darker stuff...vulnerability is just really hard.
I can recall one specific time when I felt noticeably safe. I'd parked in the parking lot at my church and had a little bit of time just to sit before going in. I was overwhelmed with a feeling of being safe and secure. Completely overwhelmed. I've never felt that before or since, and all I can attribute it to was that somebody must have prayed for me for that specific thing. Maybe my mom or dad.
Right now I am back in the mode of lying everywhere I go. I don't feel safe enough to tell people how I'm really doing and what I'm really thinking, so I just go on automatic pilot until I'm alone. Then, I cram garbage food down my face, which only adds to my feelings of guilt and shame and condemnation and all kinds of other junk. Meanwhile, nothing is truly resolved.
I guess I just want to be alone all the time because it's too tiring to keep up the facade. Unfortunately, alone-ness is so deceptively beckoning that once it ensnares you, it keeps you begging for more while giving little to nothing in return, and it takes from you far more than it gives. It's like being an addict.
A safe place is here.
Online.
Alone.
Nobody to make eye contact with, or to avoid;
Nobody to force me to deal with things in a face-to-face, adult fashion.
My pseudo room with a faux lamp and chairs, and false cracking, crumbling walls...empty...
It is completely void of the risk AND of the reward of true vulnerability. A safe, empty blogspot-room with which to finally be honest. A vacuum.
Well, 'safe place', I want you to know that I began my first draft of my angry letter to my perpetrator. Actually, the first night I opened my blogspot here was a night I couldn't sleep, so I finally began drafting the letter later on that very night. It was 4:30am before I was able to start falling asleep.
If you only knew...if anybody only knew...how much I want to drop everything and run away. That letter opens up a whole new can of worms, as it is one step closer to the reality of confrontation. This, too, adds a layer of shame for my lack of being able to deal with reality. All I can see anymore is how much I screw up and how poorly I am handling my life, and every manner in which I am failing.
Me.
My eyes are downcast, my spirit is suffocating, I NEED to step outside of my head and let somebody in. I am filling myself with doubt and despair and disillusionment...allowing darkness to overtake the tiny flicker of light inside of me. My choices are allowing this...again...my own fault...shame and guilt...(gag!!)
The sorrow of this world brings death, but the sorrow of repentance brings life, right? So, my sorrow is of this world, not from God, so...where ought I to place my eyes?
Up.
I lift UP mine eyes to the hills, from whence comes my strength...
Not drawing from within, but from without...
O, God, I have nothing. I am empty of anything life-giving or worthwhile. I have no love inside of me. I'm like a zombie, living with no Life.
Help me, Jesus...
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Crazy Public Diary: Beginnings
So, I'm writing a public diary. Hmm. Interesting. Or...not...
Over a year ago a friend encouraged me to begin a blog, so, better late than never, right?
Maybe.
Today I feel so agitated. I work with kids, so it's alarming when I have zero compassion and want to bite off the heads of innocent bystanders. Just think what I could do to the non-innocent bystanders! Of course, I just stuff it all, and only a little bit oozes out onto others. But, I sure am uncomfortable with how hard and rash I feel inside.
There are a few reasons why: my counselor gave me a homework assignment two weeks ago tonight... write an angry letter to my original perpetrator.
'Perpetrator'...yeah...that's an awful word for an awful thing. An awful act; or, a series of awful acts. The series of acts which causes years and years of damage. Especially when a girl doesn't even know the cause but knows she's awfully different from everybody else.
(how many times can one person use the word 'awful' in one sitting?)
Crimeny.
Another reason why I think I feel agitated is that who I used to be before discovering the truth, the roots, is different than who I am now, and who I am becoming. I'm not so sure I like the changes. I'm not as 'nice' as I used to be; nor as patient and understanding. I don't care for others as deeply as I used to. It seems my emotions are more erratic. The more I deal with the 'junk' the more I dip, wallow, then creep or spring back up, only to dip again.
Every day now, I just want to run away. Far, far, far away where I can just be alone. Of course, silly old me follows me every stinkin' place I go, so it's not like I can escape my own dang thinking, my own internal dramas.
And, another agitation contributor is the very fact that all sorts of 'shoulds' keep knocking at my mind's door, broadcasting how frequently I fail. Wicked, demon-driven thoughts that pound me farther and farther into the ground just beckon me to look more and more deeply into the dark pit of self.
I find it interesting the timing of this spell. Just this weekend I found peace. More stability and hope and clarity than I've had in quite some time.
How do I reconcile my dualities?
I earnestly long to be alone, and yet I feel so dissatisfied with my alone-ness.
I long for this gnarly, accusing finger to stop wagging in my face, while I point it's look-alike at others.
I shy away from speaking from my heart to most people I know, but inside I am screaming and writhing.
The ugliness of this letter scares me. It's not like I'm going to give it to him. My counselor did say, however, that I need to tell him why I'm avoiding him. Even though I don't have to go into detail...at least, not yet...I'm supposed to actually verbalize to him that I am purposefully avoiding one on one contact with him because of how difficult it is for me to deal with the reality and the ramifications of something he did over 20 years ago. Verbalize why I'm avoiding, as well as begin my letter...Holy crap...
Oh, my goodness...where's the nearest hole where I can jump in and cover up?
No...it's time to STOP covering up. Twenty plus years of covering up is quite enough.
Where do I find courage for this???
Over a year ago a friend encouraged me to begin a blog, so, better late than never, right?
Maybe.
Today I feel so agitated. I work with kids, so it's alarming when I have zero compassion and want to bite off the heads of innocent bystanders. Just think what I could do to the non-innocent bystanders! Of course, I just stuff it all, and only a little bit oozes out onto others. But, I sure am uncomfortable with how hard and rash I feel inside.
There are a few reasons why: my counselor gave me a homework assignment two weeks ago tonight... write an angry letter to my original perpetrator.
'Perpetrator'...yeah...that's an awful word for an awful thing. An awful act; or, a series of awful acts. The series of acts which causes years and years of damage. Especially when a girl doesn't even know the cause but knows she's awfully different from everybody else.
(how many times can one person use the word 'awful' in one sitting?)
Crimeny.
Another reason why I think I feel agitated is that who I used to be before discovering the truth, the roots, is different than who I am now, and who I am becoming. I'm not so sure I like the changes. I'm not as 'nice' as I used to be; nor as patient and understanding. I don't care for others as deeply as I used to. It seems my emotions are more erratic. The more I deal with the 'junk' the more I dip, wallow, then creep or spring back up, only to dip again.
Every day now, I just want to run away. Far, far, far away where I can just be alone. Of course, silly old me follows me every stinkin' place I go, so it's not like I can escape my own dang thinking, my own internal dramas.
And, another agitation contributor is the very fact that all sorts of 'shoulds' keep knocking at my mind's door, broadcasting how frequently I fail. Wicked, demon-driven thoughts that pound me farther and farther into the ground just beckon me to look more and more deeply into the dark pit of self.
I find it interesting the timing of this spell. Just this weekend I found peace. More stability and hope and clarity than I've had in quite some time.
How do I reconcile my dualities?
I earnestly long to be alone, and yet I feel so dissatisfied with my alone-ness.
I long for this gnarly, accusing finger to stop wagging in my face, while I point it's look-alike at others.
I shy away from speaking from my heart to most people I know, but inside I am screaming and writhing.
The ugliness of this letter scares me. It's not like I'm going to give it to him. My counselor did say, however, that I need to tell him why I'm avoiding him. Even though I don't have to go into detail...at least, not yet...I'm supposed to actually verbalize to him that I am purposefully avoiding one on one contact with him because of how difficult it is for me to deal with the reality and the ramifications of something he did over 20 years ago. Verbalize why I'm avoiding, as well as begin my letter...Holy crap...
Oh, my goodness...where's the nearest hole where I can jump in and cover up?
No...it's time to STOP covering up. Twenty plus years of covering up is quite enough.
Where do I find courage for this???
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