Up until now I have never mentioned where I went to college or anything about that time in my life. That's an impossible task to cover adequately in one post, but I do want to in a brief way discuss my infamous alma mater, Bob Jones University. I grew up in a "Bob Jones" church, although in the early days it was more a Gothard church and I remember loading up in buses at church and riding downtown to the Basic Youth Conflicts meeting. Brother Roloff was a regular preacher at our church, but I digress. My college choices were Bob Jones University or Your on Your Own- Good Luck U. The whole concept of scholarships and the evil government student loans was abhorred. So off I went to Greenville, South Carolina and the Mecca of the Fundamentalist world, Bob Jones University. I wasn't unhappy about it. I had visited there a few times and knew how to dress like the college girls and not look like a high schooler. I was quite pleased when my clothing was looked over by a girl that used to be in my youth group, but was now that most envied of positions, a GA(graduate assistant). I thought I was hot stuff, with connections in the right places and coming from a well known and respected church and Christian school. MY pastor was asked to speak at Bob Jones and so on. I was such a self righteous, proud little brat, but I was never a Boje(that's BJ slang for tattletale). My freshman year was an odd mix. My APC(assistant prayer captain) was a 5th year senior who only had one semester left. She introduced me to the wild crowd and told them I was cool and wouldn't get a conscience. It's funny how she had me pegged. I was very good at keeping quiet and self preservation. I never did turn anyone in for anything my whole time at Bob Jones University, even when undergoing grilling by the Dean of Women (I always get Baker and Barker mixed up) or the Dean of Students, Mr. Berg.
One of my teachers my freshman year was similar in mannerisms and size as my teacher in elementary that molested and raped me during that whole school year. I didn't have the right words for what was happening to me. I genuinely liked Mr. Berg and went to him for help. I described what was happening and one of the things I was told, was to think on those things that are lovely and to meditate on Philipians 4:8. I tried so hard but things just got worse. I have words now for what was happening: triggers, flashbacks, PTSD and eventually dissociation. I was severely depressed and became suicidal. I thought I was going crazy. I went to the wrong classes for an extended period of time until the teacher pointed out that I wasn't actually IN that class. I would wander around and be vaguely aware that I was supposed to be somewhere. After sessions with Mr. Berg I would walk out of the administration building and "come to" in some out of the way back campus location.
I'm barely touching on my experience with counseling while at Bob Jones, but it was a part of every year of my time there. I interviewed with G.R.A.C.E. last year and have been paying a heavy toll for it. I finally got to a point of relative peace in the last few months. The flashbacks to the original abuse in elementary had become infrequent, I could sing in church again and talking with a Baptist didn't throw me into panic. I still couldn't read the Bible without being triggered, but I could listen to someone else read it, as long as it wasn't the King James version. It was nice to wake up without that instant feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach. I made it past a major depression and time of being suicidal. PTSD symptoms were basically gone for a while. I was still in counseling with my pastor, but it had lost the edge of desperation that began our counseling relationship soon after I filled out the original GRACE questionnaire and then went into full blown longlasting flashbacks. Believe me, that was an interesting call!
But now, BJU has fired GRACE and it's not looking like the report will ever see the light of day, if BJU can get away with it. I've seen various blogs and comments mention how this decision to fire GRACE re-traumatizes victims, but I haven't seen anyone specifically saying how it does. I'm going to tell you how it affects me, and I hope that others will tell in the comments, or elsewhere, how BJU's actions in firing GRACE is affecting them.
1. My hands are sweating like a faucet, and it makes the keyboard slippery to type on.
2. Betrayed
3. Headaches and eye twitches have returned
4. Nightmares are starting back up
5. I am being more easily triggered again
6. Flashbacks are returning
7. Anxiety (and DON'T tell me to be anxious for nothing!)
8. General nervousness
9. Difficulty staying in the present while singing in church (fighting to not dissociate too badly)
10. Nausea
11. Difficulty sleeping(I haven't slept well for a couple of weeks now and I was up the whole night this past Saturday.)
12. Loss of appetite (I could stand to lose a bunch of weight, so that's almost ok with me)
13. I know I'm depressed, although I can't say to what degree, but not currently suicidal.
14. I am physically tense all over to the point of pain
15. You really don't want to know about the connection all this has with my bowels ;)
16. Church is again full of triggers for me and has been increasing each week since GRACE was fired
17. I have been irritable and hard to live with(I'm working on it!)
18. Loss of hope(but then I got really ticked and that helps because I am doing what I can)
19. Crying and not able to control emotions well, so I use anger to keep the tears in check
20. Really and truly beginning to grasp the depth and beauty of the imprecatory Psalms and praying in a very specific way towards Bob Jones University---Lord, hear my prayer.
Monday, February 24, 2014
Sunday, February 23, 2014
S is for Suicidal in September
Between October and now almost to the end of February I have had no postings. Well in September I had a several days run of extreme depression. I couldn't sleep for well over 60 hours. I was, to put it quite bluntly, extremely suicidal. I went as far as making a plan and taking steps to ensure I would be able to carry it out. Once everything was in place I was so happy and lighthearted, and just felt such relief as though a great burden had been lifted. I hadn't felt so good and free since high school, which was also the last time I actually tried to kill myself. I drove around town for a little while reveling in how relaxed and happy I felt. I wondered if this was how normal people felt sometimes. I didn't want to wait for a better time. NOW was feeling so wonderful, I was ready to be done with hurting; with curling up trying to hang on and riding the next wave of depression so deep that it hurt to just, be. I drove around thinking about things and feeling good and truly alive.
Eventually I thought about my children and especially what my little guy had just recently started saying to me when I came home, "I missed you, Mommy." He was so little, how could he voice that? I heard his little voice in my mind and I couldn't die, but I wanted to so badly. The pain was so intense for so long I couldn't bear to give up this relief and joy I felt. I found myself driving to someone I trusted and giving them a note and a bottle of sleeping pills for them to keep. I couldn't throw them out the window or drop them in the trash and once at their house I resisted their efforts to dispose of the pills. I think I needed to feel I still had an out. I'm not sure, it's strange to think it out loud like this. For me depression is like the ebb and flow of the tides. It always returns. Sometimes I get hit with a tsunami, same waves, but totally out of control.
Eventually I thought about my children and especially what my little guy had just recently started saying to me when I came home, "I missed you, Mommy." He was so little, how could he voice that? I heard his little voice in my mind and I couldn't die, but I wanted to so badly. The pain was so intense for so long I couldn't bear to give up this relief and joy I felt. I found myself driving to someone I trusted and giving them a note and a bottle of sleeping pills for them to keep. I couldn't throw them out the window or drop them in the trash and once at their house I resisted their efforts to dispose of the pills. I think I needed to feel I still had an out. I'm not sure, it's strange to think it out loud like this. For me depression is like the ebb and flow of the tides. It always returns. Sometimes I get hit with a tsunami, same waves, but totally out of control.
Wednesday, October 30, 2013
Words I Wonder About
For Wondering Wednesday...
I have a list of words I wonder about. Words like:
protection
safety
sovereign
God's will
care
watch
guard
redeem
redemption
grace
prayer
joy
resurrection
bitter
These are all fairly straightforward words to one raised in church, right? Well, yes and no. These were all words and concepts that were twisted in their meaning in my theological past. You may well ask how I know this and am I certain that it's not my present that is twisting these words. Every move away from the IFB(Independent Fundamental Baptist) world I grew up in and birthed most of my children in, has been slowly untwisting the doctrinal tangle I was bound in. I can follow the road and see where many of the turns were that led me closer to where I am now. It's progressively improved so much so that I could almost have a post millenial like view on my theological journey.
I have a list of words I wonder about. Words like:
protection
safety
sovereign
God's will
forgivenesslove
care
watch
guard
redeem
redemption
grace
prayer
joy
resurrection
bitter
These are all fairly straightforward words to one raised in church, right? Well, yes and no. These were all words and concepts that were twisted in their meaning in my theological past. You may well ask how I know this and am I certain that it's not my present that is twisting these words. Every move away from the IFB(Independent Fundamental Baptist) world I grew up in and birthed most of my children in, has been slowly untwisting the doctrinal tangle I was bound in. I can follow the road and see where many of the turns were that led me closer to where I am now. It's progressively improved so much so that I could almost have a post millenial like view on my theological journey.
Tuesday, October 29, 2013
My Friend, Dean
We moved to a new house in January of my third grade year. It was a brand new house on a brand new street. I made new friends in the neighborhood and school was okay. My teacher was pregnant and spent most of the day sitting at the back of the classroom with her head on the desk. We got to play on the good playground for one recess but had to play on the blacktop parking lot for the other recess.
I met Dean in the neighborhood, he was a few years older than me. He taught me how to jump my bike and land level with both tires on the dirt course kids made out of the piles of dirt around the poured basements on the street. I got pretty good. He even let me ride his dirt bike, the motorized kind. I knew I was hot stuff and special because he didn't let anyone else ride his motor bike. He also taught me karate moves and how to defend myself and fight. (Yes, I know it doesn't sound like girl stuff, but I liked the guy's kind of fun. Barbies and board games get old real quick.) His garage door was always open(if his parents weren't home) and that was the neighborhood source for all things illegal. He never let any of the other guys there give me the hard stuff they were offering. I could hang out there and smoke, but he wouldn't let me try anything with needles. Sometimes he would shoo me out of the basement side of the garage(raised ranch style house) and it wasn't until my teacher at school molested and raped me all through the school year that I realized what all was going on in the basement side of his garage. He was a good guy and I was safe with him. Some days he told me I needed to leave, usually this was when his friends wanted me to go in the basement and hang out with them. Later I realized what he was keeping me safe from. I wish I knew his last name and could find him and say thank you. He was kinda like an onery, getting in trouble older brother. He was my friend, Dean.
I met Dean in the neighborhood, he was a few years older than me. He taught me how to jump my bike and land level with both tires on the dirt course kids made out of the piles of dirt around the poured basements on the street. I got pretty good. He even let me ride his dirt bike, the motorized kind. I knew I was hot stuff and special because he didn't let anyone else ride his motor bike. He also taught me karate moves and how to defend myself and fight. (Yes, I know it doesn't sound like girl stuff, but I liked the guy's kind of fun. Barbies and board games get old real quick.) His garage door was always open(if his parents weren't home) and that was the neighborhood source for all things illegal. He never let any of the other guys there give me the hard stuff they were offering. I could hang out there and smoke, but he wouldn't let me try anything with needles. Sometimes he would shoo me out of the basement side of the garage(raised ranch style house) and it wasn't until my teacher at school molested and raped me all through the school year that I realized what all was going on in the basement side of his garage. He was a good guy and I was safe with him. Some days he told me I needed to leave, usually this was when his friends wanted me to go in the basement and hang out with them. Later I realized what he was keeping me safe from. I wish I knew his last name and could find him and say thank you. He was kinda like an onery, getting in trouble older brother. He was my friend, Dean.
Monday, October 28, 2013
Life Together with Christians in my New World
I haven't written a blog post in a while, although I've been writing a lot for my own sanity elsewhere. I've started reading another book, just a short little one, but it is packed with a whole lot of things new to me in some ways. It's really not new, but reflects the cry of my heart that I've done my best over the years to bind and gag and bury it deep so I can't hear it any longer. The book I've begun to read is Life Together by Dietrich Bonhoeffer.
Enter the idea of Christian community and confession. Why in the world would I read such a book? I don't know, I suppose it has something to do with the things I've been wrestling with for the last few months. In good ole IFB language these would be the things I would mention as "unspoken prayer requests" back in the independent fundamental baptist church I grew up in. Thankfully I'm not in that world anymore, but I still don't quite know how to safely navigate in the world I find myself in today. Life Together is given as an example of how we should live life together in our Christian community. Therefore I find myself reading it to see just what that entails.
There is a great amount of tension between confession and daily community life that I see lived out before me. How much of your story should be known? What sort of things do you confess and to whom? Who can handle the really big stuff, you know, the type of things that you do need help with in overcoming, the struggles that are too hard to carry on your own? Not too many people fit that description. And the incredible risks involved are enough to drive you back to isolation and denial. That's a lonely and emotionally frozen way to live. I want to be thawed out, but I'm afraid I may be "freezer burnt" and never be able to function as a normal person in the community I am now in. The big things like major depression that cycles around to various degrees of suicidal thoughts all the way up to the point of deciding to attempt it or not is not something most people can deal with.
Of course the ones who are "trained" to deal with it are the ones who have no answers. What kind of help is that? Listening to the Godless drivel that comes out and yet is called help, is enough to drive me to really go through with it. Talk about truly depressing! Yet these are the people that I would be referred to in the throes of being suicidal because evidently pastors, who are thoroughly trained in the scriptures and theology, don't have the answers I am in desparate need of during the times I am suicidal. (Did you notice the sarcasm here?)
QUOTES from Life Together:
"The physical presence of other Christians is a source of incomparable joy and strength to the believer." p19
"The believer feels no shame, as though he were still living too much in the flesh, when he yearns for the physical presence of other Christians." p19
"The prisoner, the sick person, the Christian in exile sees in the companionship of a fellow Christian a physical sign of the gracious presence of the triune God." p20
"He knows that God's Word in Jesus Christ pronounces him guilty, even when he does not feel his guilt, and God's Word in Jesus Christ pronounces him not guilty and righteous, even when he does not feel that he is righteous at all. The Christian no longer lives of himself, by his own claims and his own justification, but by God's claims and God's justification." p22
"God has willed that we should seek and find His living Word in the witness of a brother, in the mouth of man. Therefore, the Christian needs another Christian who speaks God's Word to him. He needs him again and again when he becomes uncertain and discouraged, for by himself he cannot help himself without belying the truth. He needs his brother man as a bearer and proclaimer of the divine word of salvation." p23
Enter the idea of Christian community and confession. Why in the world would I read such a book? I don't know, I suppose it has something to do with the things I've been wrestling with for the last few months. In good ole IFB language these would be the things I would mention as "unspoken prayer requests" back in the independent fundamental baptist church I grew up in. Thankfully I'm not in that world anymore, but I still don't quite know how to safely navigate in the world I find myself in today. Life Together is given as an example of how we should live life together in our Christian community. Therefore I find myself reading it to see just what that entails.
There is a great amount of tension between confession and daily community life that I see lived out before me. How much of your story should be known? What sort of things do you confess and to whom? Who can handle the really big stuff, you know, the type of things that you do need help with in overcoming, the struggles that are too hard to carry on your own? Not too many people fit that description. And the incredible risks involved are enough to drive you back to isolation and denial. That's a lonely and emotionally frozen way to live. I want to be thawed out, but I'm afraid I may be "freezer burnt" and never be able to function as a normal person in the community I am now in. The big things like major depression that cycles around to various degrees of suicidal thoughts all the way up to the point of deciding to attempt it or not is not something most people can deal with.
Of course the ones who are "trained" to deal with it are the ones who have no answers. What kind of help is that? Listening to the Godless drivel that comes out and yet is called help, is enough to drive me to really go through with it. Talk about truly depressing! Yet these are the people that I would be referred to in the throes of being suicidal because evidently pastors, who are thoroughly trained in the scriptures and theology, don't have the answers I am in desparate need of during the times I am suicidal. (Did you notice the sarcasm here?)
QUOTES from Life Together:
"The physical presence of other Christians is a source of incomparable joy and strength to the believer." p19
"The believer feels no shame, as though he were still living too much in the flesh, when he yearns for the physical presence of other Christians." p19
"The prisoner, the sick person, the Christian in exile sees in the companionship of a fellow Christian a physical sign of the gracious presence of the triune God." p20
"He knows that God's Word in Jesus Christ pronounces him guilty, even when he does not feel his guilt, and God's Word in Jesus Christ pronounces him not guilty and righteous, even when he does not feel that he is righteous at all. The Christian no longer lives of himself, by his own claims and his own justification, but by God's claims and God's justification." p22
"God has willed that we should seek and find His living Word in the witness of a brother, in the mouth of man. Therefore, the Christian needs another Christian who speaks God's Word to him. He needs him again and again when he becomes uncertain and discouraged, for by himself he cannot help himself without belying the truth. He needs his brother man as a bearer and proclaimer of the divine word of salvation." p23
Thursday, July 25, 2013
Theology Thursday--What the heck is joy?
All my life I've heard that Christians are supposed to be joyful. I've even heard that joy isn't the same as happiness. For the first time though I'm told at my church's ladies book study that joy is something the Holy Spirit does. Now I have been taught that joy is a fruit of the Spirit, but anyone who reads Galations 5 can see it listed out plainly as one of the fruits of the Spirit, so that's an easy one. A few times I've heard that joy is something that naturally comes out or shows clearly in a Christian. See that's what I have a problem with. I know how I feel a lot of the time and joy isn't it. I'm not exactly sure what joy looks like.
I've seen people I know to be Christians walking around and they seem lighthearted and untouched by unusual tragedy. Other Christians I've noticed seem to be dialed down a notch, but still have that something I can't identify, in common. Then there are those whom I know that have incredible pain in their life that ebbs and flows like the tides. I see the pain in their eyes, hear it in their voice, feel it in their writing and all the while, others say how strong they are, what a testimony they are, and all the platitudes that come with the comfort of others. What they say is true, but the pain is still there. Behind the brave smiles, and speech is pain; and the more other people tell you how strong you are and what a testimony the more constrained you become to hide the pain. The days get better, sometimes you forget and then you remember again. What makes the difference between daily agony, numbness, forced forgetfulness and joy?
There is an enormous gap between forced forgetfulness and joy. How in the world does one get to joy?
So that brings me back to joy being a fruit of the Spirit and what that fruit looks like, especially in the lives of Christians who have had tragedy of various sorts. Is joy possible with just the passage of time? I say no. Time doesn't heal squat; time gives you a chance to improve on your inner Spock.
Another thing said at the ladies book study is that we don't have to act joyful. Well that's a relief! From what I understand the Spirit gives joy. But I have several questions related to that: to whom, how, why, will He give it to me, and what do I have to do or be in order for the Spirit to give me joy?
A constant refrain I hear is that this is the middle of the story, this isn't all there is, God is still writing my story and He will finish it on time. That's good to know and is actually a comfort; and for me there isn't much said that is intended to comfort which does in reality, it usually causes additional pain.
We are going through Ecclesiates and the book Joy at the End of the Tether by Douglas Wilson. Perhaps I will have a better answer to what joy actually is and how it looks in Christians who have much pain by the time we finish this study. At the same time my pastor just began preaching through Philipians, another joy topic. Hopefully I'll learn something. What I'm not looking forward to is hearing Phil 4:8 read and preached on. That's a major trigger for me. I think I'll stay home from church and bury my head on that day.
I've seen people I know to be Christians walking around and they seem lighthearted and untouched by unusual tragedy. Other Christians I've noticed seem to be dialed down a notch, but still have that something I can't identify, in common. Then there are those whom I know that have incredible pain in their life that ebbs and flows like the tides. I see the pain in their eyes, hear it in their voice, feel it in their writing and all the while, others say how strong they are, what a testimony they are, and all the platitudes that come with the comfort of others. What they say is true, but the pain is still there. Behind the brave smiles, and speech is pain; and the more other people tell you how strong you are and what a testimony the more constrained you become to hide the pain. The days get better, sometimes you forget and then you remember again. What makes the difference between daily agony, numbness, forced forgetfulness and joy?
There is an enormous gap between forced forgetfulness and joy. How in the world does one get to joy?
So that brings me back to joy being a fruit of the Spirit and what that fruit looks like, especially in the lives of Christians who have had tragedy of various sorts. Is joy possible with just the passage of time? I say no. Time doesn't heal squat; time gives you a chance to improve on your inner Spock.
Another thing said at the ladies book study is that we don't have to act joyful. Well that's a relief! From what I understand the Spirit gives joy. But I have several questions related to that: to whom, how, why, will He give it to me, and what do I have to do or be in order for the Spirit to give me joy?
A constant refrain I hear is that this is the middle of the story, this isn't all there is, God is still writing my story and He will finish it on time. That's good to know and is actually a comfort; and for me there isn't much said that is intended to comfort which does in reality, it usually causes additional pain.
We are going through Ecclesiates and the book Joy at the End of the Tether by Douglas Wilson. Perhaps I will have a better answer to what joy actually is and how it looks in Christians who have much pain by the time we finish this study. At the same time my pastor just began preaching through Philipians, another joy topic. Hopefully I'll learn something. What I'm not looking forward to is hearing Phil 4:8 read and preached on. That's a major trigger for me. I think I'll stay home from church and bury my head on that day.
Tuesday, July 9, 2013
Themed Blogging Days
Thinking about ways of being more intentional with this blog and I'm going to try themed blogging days. Something like:
Marvelous Monday, Mad Monday or Morbid Monday or maybe just to be a little more "normal" I'll do Monday Munchies.
Truthful Tuesday, Tuesday Triggers, Troubled Tuesday, or Torturous Tuesdays: a walk down memory lane
Wednesday Wonders, Wordless Wednesday(I like pictures and occasionally I take a good one)
Theology Thursday (I could probably write on this, pose questions, post about the crappy "answers" I've received over the years)
Fearful Friday or Fabulous Friday (That's really polar opposites, maybe I'll just skip Fridays)
Searching Saturdays (open ended theme that can work for a lot of things, even normal living life stuff)
Marvelous Monday, Mad Monday or Morbid Monday or maybe just to be a little more "normal" I'll do Monday Munchies.
Truthful Tuesday, Tuesday Triggers, Troubled Tuesday, or Torturous Tuesdays: a walk down memory lane
Wednesday Wonders, Wordless Wednesday(I like pictures and occasionally I take a good one)
Theology Thursday (I could probably write on this, pose questions, post about the crappy "answers" I've received over the years)
Fearful Friday or Fabulous Friday (That's really polar opposites, maybe I'll just skip Fridays)
Searching Saturdays (open ended theme that can work for a lot of things, even normal living life stuff)
Saturday, July 6, 2013
My Lousy Balancing Act...
I've been trying out, in great seriousness and effort, another go round of counseling with a pastor and not just some pastor that I drive to go see that doesn't see me on Sunday or other times, but my pastor, the one who is charged with shepherding the sheep in his flock, of which I am one. I'm not sure how well it's going. Rather, I'm not so sure how well I am doing. I don't know how to balance honesty, openness, anger and being nice. I don't think I can be fully honest and nice at the same time. I can be honest in a limited scope and be nice which is how you act with everyone else when you know they have neither the time, nor inclination to hear your deepest darkest. And that's ok, that's life. I sure don't want everyone I know to know all about me. Hence the somewhat anonymous blog. hehe But as far as maintaining civility and avoiding the appearance of anger while being fully honest and open, well I've never done that before. Never is a strong word, but it might just fit this time.
I keep coming back to the difficulty I have in balancing emotions and behavior. Being able to handle church, preaching, Bible reading, singing and physical touch without the necessity of retreating physically and/or emotionally in order to maintain a facade of normalcy is where I would like to be some day. I'm tired of the facade. When I let up and am fully, or nearly fully, open and honest then I am always the loser. When I restrain myself and limit what I say or try to act like all is okay when I am falling apart on the inside; then I still lose because I think people notice and pull away. I'm not sure if it's because they are bothered that I don't trust them enough to be real with them or if they are retreating to avoid any possibility of getting too close to my screwed up self.
I've been scarily honest in some emails with my pastor after counseling times, and didn't try to hide my anger. Is that keeping it real or is it being a jerk? Having to ask such a question reflects my lousy balancing skills. Anyway, this has been a hell of a week. DH and I had a medium sized fight last Sunday night, and of course he brought it up in counseling on Monday afternoon. I wasn't nice. I was sarcastic, rude, angry, hurt and scared, but didn't show I was hurt and scared, just used all the ugly ways of protecting myself from being known. That was a dud of a counseling session, I was actually asked to leave so the pastor could talk to just my DH. It was just supposed to be for 10 minutes and then I thought I was coming back in, but that actually ended the session.
I've been in a funk, depressed, planning how to win the war with my husband, ended up being really sorry for some emails I sent and I've cried a lot this week. And to top it off, tonight I was quite triggered by reading I John in preparation for the upcoming Sunday school series. And I didn't even read it, I listened to it on my iphone from a link for this weeks church news. Like I said, this has been a rough week. No let up.
I keep coming back to the difficulty I have in balancing emotions and behavior. Being able to handle church, preaching, Bible reading, singing and physical touch without the necessity of retreating physically and/or emotionally in order to maintain a facade of normalcy is where I would like to be some day. I'm tired of the facade. When I let up and am fully, or nearly fully, open and honest then I am always the loser. When I restrain myself and limit what I say or try to act like all is okay when I am falling apart on the inside; then I still lose because I think people notice and pull away. I'm not sure if it's because they are bothered that I don't trust them enough to be real with them or if they are retreating to avoid any possibility of getting too close to my screwed up self.
I've been scarily honest in some emails with my pastor after counseling times, and didn't try to hide my anger. Is that keeping it real or is it being a jerk? Having to ask such a question reflects my lousy balancing skills. Anyway, this has been a hell of a week. DH and I had a medium sized fight last Sunday night, and of course he brought it up in counseling on Monday afternoon. I wasn't nice. I was sarcastic, rude, angry, hurt and scared, but didn't show I was hurt and scared, just used all the ugly ways of protecting myself from being known. That was a dud of a counseling session, I was actually asked to leave so the pastor could talk to just my DH. It was just supposed to be for 10 minutes and then I thought I was coming back in, but that actually ended the session.
I've been in a funk, depressed, planning how to win the war with my husband, ended up being really sorry for some emails I sent and I've cried a lot this week. And to top it off, tonight I was quite triggered by reading I John in preparation for the upcoming Sunday school series. And I didn't even read it, I listened to it on my iphone from a link for this weeks church news. Like I said, this has been a rough week. No let up.
Wednesday, March 27, 2013
Nouthetic Counseling is Bunk!
It finally makes sense why most of the "help" I have received has only caused more pain and feelings of hopelessness.
http://robinphillips.blogspot.com/2011/10/problems-with-jay-adams-and-nouthetic.html
Don't question God. Asking why shows you're doubting God's goodness. If you don't forgive; then God won't forgive you. Christ died on the cross for your sins, the least you can do is to forgive your perpetrator. (Is that word supposed to sound better than abuser or rapist?) At least it's better than Wood and Mazak's "offender".
http://robinphillips.blogspot.com/2011/10/problems-with-jay-adams-and-nouthetic.html
Don't question God. Asking why shows you're doubting God's goodness. If you don't forgive; then God won't forgive you. Christ died on the cross for your sins, the least you can do is to forgive your perpetrator. (Is that word supposed to sound better than abuser or rapist?) At least it's better than Wood and Mazak's "offender".
Singing the Psalms
Reading the Bible is very triggering for me right now, even though I'm avoiding the King James Version. So I listen to good music that are heavy in the Psalms. It's a balm for my soul and if I sing along, at least in my head, it doesn't trigger me.
So almost all day I've been listening to My Cry Ascends: New Parish Psalms.
Two of my favorites are Lord Jesus Think on Me and From Depths of Woe. I know they don't sound all that encouraging, but those songs, especially, are keeping me grounded in the here and now; and I desperately need that.
http://www.ligonier.org/store/my-cry-ascends-new-parish-psalms-cd/
So almost all day I've been listening to My Cry Ascends: New Parish Psalms.
Two of my favorites are Lord Jesus Think on Me and From Depths of Woe. I know they don't sound all that encouraging, but those songs, especially, are keeping me grounded in the here and now; and I desperately need that.
http://www.ligonier.org/store/my-cry-ascends-new-parish-psalms-cd/
Friday, March 15, 2013
The Anguished Cry
O LORD, how long shall I cry for help,
and you will not hear?
Or cry to you "Violence!"
and you will not save?
Why do you make me see iniquity,
and why do you idly look at wrong?
Destruction and violence are before me;
strife and contention arise.
So the law is paralyzed,
and justice never goes forth.
For the wicked surround the righteous;
so justice goes forth perverted.
Habakkuk 1:1-4
I listened to a sermon on this the other day. I think it was a good sermon. I need to listen to it again and hopefully I can fully turn off the baptist tapes in the background of my mind so I can understand what is being taught. http://www.wordmp3.com/details.aspx?id=11631
I only know what is before me in words, not the technical ways of understanding who the passage is for and what it's "really" saying. I know that was the anguished cry of my soul as a child. Those questions are still unanswered, but from a safe vantage point of time I am still asking them. "O LORD, why?"
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
I finally admit to myself why I'm blogging
I'm pulling this out of my drafts. I don't remember when I wrote it, but it is still true.
My reason for blogging has changed. Not really changed, but at least I'm admitting it more to myself. Dang, I didn't want to have a point. I've ended up creating a blog that I can't let my children see until they are a lot older. That's really great. I can't even write about the life I lived as a child and allow my own children to read it because they're not old enough. I lived through hell and survived, barely.
I want this blog to attract others who have been abused in IFB churches or schools. I really want the man who molested and raped me as an 11 and 12 year old little girl to be held accountable. (may he rot in jail forever) I think he is still teaching. I'll verify that soon.
I want changes to be made in hiring and firing in IFB churches and schools. The AACS had better get their act together as the middleman and keep track of their members personal and character references. They're not guiltless in passing around child rapists from school to school.
My reason for blogging has changed. Not really changed, but at least I'm admitting it more to myself. Dang, I didn't want to have a point. I've ended up creating a blog that I can't let my children see until they are a lot older. That's really great. I can't even write about the life I lived as a child and allow my own children to read it because they're not old enough. I lived through hell and survived, barely.
I want this blog to attract others who have been abused in IFB churches or schools. I really want the man who molested and raped me as an 11 and 12 year old little girl to be held accountable. (may he rot in jail forever) I think he is still teaching. I'll verify that soon.
I want changes to be made in hiring and firing in IFB churches and schools. The AACS had better get their act together as the middleman and keep track of their members personal and character references. They're not guiltless in passing around child rapists from school to school.
Still Paying the Price
It's been almost three years since I've posted on this blog. I haven't forgotten anything, but I just couldn't write about things. Trying to figure out how to make this blog do what I orignally intended for it to do is complicated. I'm too much of a chicken to just put it all out there. I've lost too many friends in too many places and quite a few of those losses were because of my past abuse.
We are once again in a new state, a new church and trying to see where we fit, or if we do fit. As long as I manage to blend, I know we'll be okay. But what about the dark times? They always return and then I really don't want to be alone. I want comfort, but that's the point where I am rejected or become someones project. Is there a balance? Does anyone besides me know how to be a friend to someone who is hurting without turning them into a project?
That sounds a bit arrogant, but I haven't seen people who have been able to be a friend to those who have been sexually abused without turning them into a project or outright rejecting them. I don't want to be hurt like that again. The abuse was a long time ago, but I'm still paying the price. I'm the one with the memories that intrude at the wrong times. (I'd like to know when the right time is and then maybe I can train my brain and body to save it for times I can handle it and am expecting it.) I'm the one with the shaking and sweating hands. I'm the one who works really hard to take hugs and pats from people at church, especially men, without panicing and having to hide in the bathroom. I'm the one with the flashbacks. I'm the one who thinks about what happened to me when sermons or songs touch on tragedy or God's love and care. When forgiveness is discussed I am back in the hallway trying to know that I'm not really there again. When someone keeps asking how can they pray for me I am terrified. This is a person who is becoming a friend and all I can think of is how much it will hurt when they don't talk to me anymore and avoid me at church because I fully and truthfully told them how they can pray for me. I want to say. "Pray that the darkness doesn't get too dark, pray that I can stop being afraid, pray that I can be myself without losing friends or becoming a project, pray that the baptist tapes will be banished, pray that PTSD won't keep returning, pray that he will be caught and punished, pray for justice, pray for complete healing and hope that it is possible, pray that the memories won't come unbidden especially when I'm with my husband or in church, pray that the thoughts of suicide will never return, pray for me to be able to love God fully."
I don't say any of these things. How can I? The risk is too great.
Yes, I am still paying the price.
We are once again in a new state, a new church and trying to see where we fit, or if we do fit. As long as I manage to blend, I know we'll be okay. But what about the dark times? They always return and then I really don't want to be alone. I want comfort, but that's the point where I am rejected or become someones project. Is there a balance? Does anyone besides me know how to be a friend to someone who is hurting without turning them into a project?
That sounds a bit arrogant, but I haven't seen people who have been able to be a friend to those who have been sexually abused without turning them into a project or outright rejecting them. I don't want to be hurt like that again. The abuse was a long time ago, but I'm still paying the price. I'm the one with the memories that intrude at the wrong times. (I'd like to know when the right time is and then maybe I can train my brain and body to save it for times I can handle it and am expecting it.) I'm the one with the shaking and sweating hands. I'm the one who works really hard to take hugs and pats from people at church, especially men, without panicing and having to hide in the bathroom. I'm the one with the flashbacks. I'm the one who thinks about what happened to me when sermons or songs touch on tragedy or God's love and care. When forgiveness is discussed I am back in the hallway trying to know that I'm not really there again. When someone keeps asking how can they pray for me I am terrified. This is a person who is becoming a friend and all I can think of is how much it will hurt when they don't talk to me anymore and avoid me at church because I fully and truthfully told them how they can pray for me. I want to say. "Pray that the darkness doesn't get too dark, pray that I can stop being afraid, pray that I can be myself without losing friends or becoming a project, pray that the baptist tapes will be banished, pray that PTSD won't keep returning, pray that he will be caught and punished, pray for justice, pray for complete healing and hope that it is possible, pray that the memories won't come unbidden especially when I'm with my husband or in church, pray that the thoughts of suicide will never return, pray for me to be able to love God fully."
I don't say any of these things. How can I? The risk is too great.
Yes, I am still paying the price.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
How is Christ my deliverer and the solution to my problems?
To say that to see "Christ as the deliverer" is the solution leaves a lot of things out. It makes things seem simple as 1-2-3 now you're ok, it's not.
If you had a lot of bones broken and had gone to the hospital for the "solution"/healing and then had some limbs put in traction and other ones had casts, that doesn't make you ok. It wouldn't be right for people to assume that you were now all better. Let's go a little farther on your path to healing. You're now able to be moved and now the legs that were in traction are in casts. Are you healed yet? Let's keep moving in time. Now all the casts are off and you look fine on the outside. Are you? No. You may or not be able to walk, you certainly aren't anywhere near back to your full strength. The problem now is that you look ok. You can easily be hurt at this time. So now you look healed but you're still going to physical therapy. Do you have to post your schedule to make sure everyone knows you are still working on healing? Of course you have options: wear a sign warning people not to be too rough on you because you are still healing; be prickly to keep people at bay so no one gets close enough to hurt you; just be standoffish enough to keep people away; of course my favorite is to act like it doesn't hurt, all the while you feel like you're dying.
Yes, Christ is the solution, but it's not that simple. Not really. How is he the solution? Those are just words. What does that truly mean in my life? Sometimes it's all I can do to mentally acknowledge that God is sovereign in all. I can't think past that to what those ramifications are. With God being sovereign over all that also makes him, on some level, the problem too. He's God. He doesn't have to use the baseball bat approach to alter events and peoples lives. For whatever reason, he chooses to.
Some days I can see past all this, other times I can barely ignore it, and sometimes I feel like I just get slammed up against all of life and there's no point to it but pain. I really hate being asked "How was your day/week?" I always answer truthfully, but rarely fully. I leave the core of it out if I'm having a hard time. On some level I'm always fine and always busy with something or other; but the part of me that just wants to say how I really am, can't. I can't because I look ok and have to pretend to be ok. I have to keep up appearances.
So am I really truthful? People get tired of hearing the truth. Who wants to hear that you are struggling again and still? They've already told you how to get to the hospital, so check out already! Be healed! or "be ye warmed and filled". If you tell someone that your leg is really bothering you today and then he kicks it to somehow show you that it doesn't really hurt; eventually you keep your pain to yourself. It doesn't hurt so bad that way, but it's also slower to heal.
"I do think that it is true that similar suffering of people can help with similar comfort for one another. But this should not mean that one person has to have the exact same suffering (or the exact same burden and/ or weight of burden) in order to help another carry that burden."
I agree with the above statement, but I've never seen it, let alone experienced it. What I've seen is that those who don't have a similar suffering get tired of other people who continue to suffer instead of healing on some timeline that the one comforting has in mind. That comfort turns to a kick on a healing broken leg. If you get kicked often enough by enough people, you hide the fact that you aren't what you appear to be; you hide your need for healing. Who really wants to try again to see if maybe this time, this person won't kick me, like so many others have?
On the other hand I've seen those with similar sufferings be so patient and gentle with one another taking turns holding one another up.
I believe in transparency with one another. I can't go very far with it these days, but I am tired of having 2 answers dashing around my mind to the question "How was your day?"
I'd like to be able to say what it really was like. "I barely got out of bed, I got nothing done because I couldn't focus my attention, I just curled up and cried and told the kids I was sick, my day was really lousy because I found out x about my non-case, or it's just been crappy" I'm tired of always having a good/fine day, but busy!
This is a good-sized dose of truth about me. I don't communicate well with spoken words. I go mute and my brain generally freezes up. I just want to not have to always be ok with everyone I see face to face on a regular basis. So maybe now my answer to how my day was, can be closer to what it really is and not just a sanitized part of it. I've felt like I've been making small talk with a friend of a friend, because I've hidden my broken leg. As long as it's acknowledged I don't have to dance around things that remind me of it and make sure I avoid it when I'm just talking.
"The only one who can really and completely carry another person’s burden is Christ Himself. But that is also where the members of Body of Christ (1 Cor. 12) come in—we assist in the carrying because we too have and live the solution—forgiven and comforted in our union with Christ!"
I know that Christ is the only one who can completely carry the burdens. But is it conditional? If I don't come and take his yoke and learn will I never have rest? I have a hard time distinguishing between his yoke and what I'm already bearing.
Matthew 11:28-30
Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light."
1 Corinthians 10:13
There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man: but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it.
God promises that he will never give us more than we can bear; then again believing that this verse is really saying that is a IFB holdover. I doubt everything I was ever taught, maybe this is wrong too. Maybe I was lied to again and temptation here doesn't mean trial, maybe it just means temptation. Maybe this refers to sin, not suffering. So maybe then God never really promised that he wouldn't give us more than we can bear. That would explain a lot of things.
II Corinthians 1:9
Indeed, we felt that we had received the sentence of death. But that was to make us rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead. He delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us. On him we have set our hope that he will deliver us again.
If I fell off a mountain and lived I wouldn't think I had been delivered. I would think I survived. Just because I landed and the fall finally ended doesn't mean active deliverance. It means I lived through it.
I have been delivered from a literal end in hell, but that is the deliverance that I received of God. Other than that, I view it as the fall off the mountain finally ended and I survived. That's not deliverance. I have huge problems with attributing God's deliverance to the natural fact that eventually everything ends, even falling off a mountain. I fell off a mountain. I was falling for the entire school year. The year ended and I hit the ground. I wasn't delivered from anything. It was a natural end, like gravity.
Now that I've written all this I can talk off of it. If I hadn't written about all this I wouldn't be able to say a thing. It's like it has been unlocked and now I can take it out and look at it and figure out what it is.
If you had a lot of bones broken and had gone to the hospital for the "solution"/healing and then had some limbs put in traction and other ones had casts, that doesn't make you ok. It wouldn't be right for people to assume that you were now all better. Let's go a little farther on your path to healing. You're now able to be moved and now the legs that were in traction are in casts. Are you healed yet? Let's keep moving in time. Now all the casts are off and you look fine on the outside. Are you? No. You may or not be able to walk, you certainly aren't anywhere near back to your full strength. The problem now is that you look ok. You can easily be hurt at this time. So now you look healed but you're still going to physical therapy. Do you have to post your schedule to make sure everyone knows you are still working on healing? Of course you have options: wear a sign warning people not to be too rough on you because you are still healing; be prickly to keep people at bay so no one gets close enough to hurt you; just be standoffish enough to keep people away; of course my favorite is to act like it doesn't hurt, all the while you feel like you're dying.
Yes, Christ is the solution, but it's not that simple. Not really. How is he the solution? Those are just words. What does that truly mean in my life? Sometimes it's all I can do to mentally acknowledge that God is sovereign in all. I can't think past that to what those ramifications are. With God being sovereign over all that also makes him, on some level, the problem too. He's God. He doesn't have to use the baseball bat approach to alter events and peoples lives. For whatever reason, he chooses to.
Some days I can see past all this, other times I can barely ignore it, and sometimes I feel like I just get slammed up against all of life and there's no point to it but pain. I really hate being asked "How was your day/week?" I always answer truthfully, but rarely fully. I leave the core of it out if I'm having a hard time. On some level I'm always fine and always busy with something or other; but the part of me that just wants to say how I really am, can't. I can't because I look ok and have to pretend to be ok. I have to keep up appearances.
So am I really truthful? People get tired of hearing the truth. Who wants to hear that you are struggling again and still? They've already told you how to get to the hospital, so check out already! Be healed! or "be ye warmed and filled". If you tell someone that your leg is really bothering you today and then he kicks it to somehow show you that it doesn't really hurt; eventually you keep your pain to yourself. It doesn't hurt so bad that way, but it's also slower to heal.
"I do think that it is true that similar suffering of people can help with similar comfort for one another. But this should not mean that one person has to have the exact same suffering (or the exact same burden and/ or weight of burden) in order to help another carry that burden."
I agree with the above statement, but I've never seen it, let alone experienced it. What I've seen is that those who don't have a similar suffering get tired of other people who continue to suffer instead of healing on some timeline that the one comforting has in mind. That comfort turns to a kick on a healing broken leg. If you get kicked often enough by enough people, you hide the fact that you aren't what you appear to be; you hide your need for healing. Who really wants to try again to see if maybe this time, this person won't kick me, like so many others have?
On the other hand I've seen those with similar sufferings be so patient and gentle with one another taking turns holding one another up.
I believe in transparency with one another. I can't go very far with it these days, but I am tired of having 2 answers dashing around my mind to the question "How was your day?"
I'd like to be able to say what it really was like. "I barely got out of bed, I got nothing done because I couldn't focus my attention, I just curled up and cried and told the kids I was sick, my day was really lousy because I found out x about my non-case, or it's just been crappy" I'm tired of always having a good/fine day, but busy!
This is a good-sized dose of truth about me. I don't communicate well with spoken words. I go mute and my brain generally freezes up. I just want to not have to always be ok with everyone I see face to face on a regular basis. So maybe now my answer to how my day was, can be closer to what it really is and not just a sanitized part of it. I've felt like I've been making small talk with a friend of a friend, because I've hidden my broken leg. As long as it's acknowledged I don't have to dance around things that remind me of it and make sure I avoid it when I'm just talking.
"The only one who can really and completely carry another person’s burden is Christ Himself. But that is also where the members of Body of Christ (1 Cor. 12) come in—we assist in the carrying because we too have and live the solution—forgiven and comforted in our union with Christ!"
I know that Christ is the only one who can completely carry the burdens. But is it conditional? If I don't come and take his yoke and learn will I never have rest? I have a hard time distinguishing between his yoke and what I'm already bearing.
Matthew 11:28-30
Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light."
1 Corinthians 10:13
There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man: but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it.
God promises that he will never give us more than we can bear; then again believing that this verse is really saying that is a IFB holdover. I doubt everything I was ever taught, maybe this is wrong too. Maybe I was lied to again and temptation here doesn't mean trial, maybe it just means temptation. Maybe this refers to sin, not suffering. So maybe then God never really promised that he wouldn't give us more than we can bear. That would explain a lot of things.
II Corinthians 1:9
Indeed, we felt that we had received the sentence of death. But that was to make us rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead. He delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us. On him we have set our hope that he will deliver us again.
If I fell off a mountain and lived I wouldn't think I had been delivered. I would think I survived. Just because I landed and the fall finally ended doesn't mean active deliverance. It means I lived through it.
I have been delivered from a literal end in hell, but that is the deliverance that I received of God. Other than that, I view it as the fall off the mountain finally ended and I survived. That's not deliverance. I have huge problems with attributing God's deliverance to the natural fact that eventually everything ends, even falling off a mountain. I fell off a mountain. I was falling for the entire school year. The year ended and I hit the ground. I wasn't delivered from anything. It was a natural end, like gravity.
Now that I've written all this I can talk off of it. If I hadn't written about all this I wouldn't be able to say a thing. It's like it has been unlocked and now I can take it out and look at it and figure out what it is.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Bear ye one anothers burdens. Who, me?
This is something I've been thinking about for a while, but couldn't put it in the right words until recently.
So here's what I've been pondering. Can people really "bear one another's burden" if they don't already have a similar one of their own? Is it fair of me to expect it or long for it? What does "bearing one anothers burden" actually mean?
How it actually works out in Christian life is this(as one who has been in eleven churches as either a member or regular attender in three states and timezones, I feel somewhat in a position to claim that this is how it works): You only have to bear the one's whose burdens are similar to your own, if the burden is too big; then you're off the hook and the person with the burden that is too great for you to help bear it, is on their own.
There are some exceptions that I've known, but then again the ones that help bear the greatest burdens, themselves have ones of similar weight. I know people who "bear" all they can bear of others burdens, but proportionally it's still not much. Still it falls on those of us who have the burden to be careful not to harm those who can/will "bear" in some degree by really allowing them to bear a painful amount. Most of the time the ones helping to bear your burden think they are really shouldering a huge amount with you. In reality it's like letting a 2 year old "help" you move a piano. They are working really hard but proportionally it's like they are bearing absolutely nothing. The one with the burden feels worse because he can't really say "thanks, but no thanks, you just aren't up to it".
I Corinthians 1:3-5
3Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort,
4who comforts us in all our affliction so that we will be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.
5For just as the sufferings of Christ are ours in abundance, so also our comfort is abundant through Christ.
Is it right to really think any affliction or should the focus be on the one who is able to offer the same comfort they received of God to those who suffer in a similar way or intensity?
So, are all called to offer comfort and bear burdens to any who need it? Are the ones who are like the 2 year old helping to move the piano, a weaker brother who needs to grow in this area? Or is this a differing of gifts, some can help to bear great crushing burdens, while others can help to bear the normal and acceptable tragedies of life, and others can help in the general burdens of normal life?
These questions are not just theoretical and something to pass the time with. They are very relevant to my life. I'm actively seeking answers to these questions.
So here's what I've been pondering. Can people really "bear one another's burden" if they don't already have a similar one of their own? Is it fair of me to expect it or long for it? What does "bearing one anothers burden" actually mean?
How it actually works out in Christian life is this(as one who has been in eleven churches as either a member or regular attender in three states and timezones, I feel somewhat in a position to claim that this is how it works): You only have to bear the one's whose burdens are similar to your own, if the burden is too big; then you're off the hook and the person with the burden that is too great for you to help bear it, is on their own.
There are some exceptions that I've known, but then again the ones that help bear the greatest burdens, themselves have ones of similar weight. I know people who "bear" all they can bear of others burdens, but proportionally it's still not much. Still it falls on those of us who have the burden to be careful not to harm those who can/will "bear" in some degree by really allowing them to bear a painful amount. Most of the time the ones helping to bear your burden think they are really shouldering a huge amount with you. In reality it's like letting a 2 year old "help" you move a piano. They are working really hard but proportionally it's like they are bearing absolutely nothing. The one with the burden feels worse because he can't really say "thanks, but no thanks, you just aren't up to it".
I Corinthians 1:3-5
3Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort,
4who comforts us in all our affliction so that we will be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.
5For just as the sufferings of Christ are ours in abundance, so also our comfort is abundant through Christ.
Is it right to really think any affliction or should the focus be on the one who is able to offer the same comfort they received of God to those who suffer in a similar way or intensity?
So, are all called to offer comfort and bear burdens to any who need it? Are the ones who are like the 2 year old helping to move the piano, a weaker brother who needs to grow in this area? Or is this a differing of gifts, some can help to bear great crushing burdens, while others can help to bear the normal and acceptable tragedies of life, and others can help in the general burdens of normal life?
These questions are not just theoretical and something to pass the time with. They are very relevant to my life. I'm actively seeking answers to these questions.
Friday, July 9, 2010
Almost wish I wished I was dependent on God
I'm back again with counselling. I think I will last this one out. I'm journaling and giving copies of the pages to him. We talked some about being dependent on God. And some on being able to "meltdown" in a safe place. I don't like that. Is there ever a place that safe?
"redemptive meltdown" How is it redemptive? How does losing control help? How do you know God is inviting you to deepen your dependency on Him? and how do you do that?
I'd like to ask why you would want to be more dependent on God, in general I know we all should be, but I personally just don't want to be. I almost want to want to be dependent on God, but I'm afraid to get the rug pulled out from under me again in order for me to run to God.
So if I just stand my distance from God relationally, then maybe nothing will happen. When I do move towards God then things usually fall apart and then I get even closer to God. The common thread is always this: I move towards God and all hell breaks loose; I cling to him until things have calmed down and then I slowly back away from the Rock that the ocean has beat me against and decide that I'm only going to go wading--no more swimming out towards the Rock.
There is something seriously wrong with how I relate to God, but I am afraid to try to fix it.
"redemptive meltdown" How is it redemptive? How does losing control help? How do you know God is inviting you to deepen your dependency on Him? and how do you do that?
I'd like to ask why you would want to be more dependent on God, in general I know we all should be, but I personally just don't want to be. I almost want to want to be dependent on God, but I'm afraid to get the rug pulled out from under me again in order for me to run to God.
So if I just stand my distance from God relationally, then maybe nothing will happen. When I do move towards God then things usually fall apart and then I get even closer to God. The common thread is always this: I move towards God and all hell breaks loose; I cling to him until things have calmed down and then I slowly back away from the Rock that the ocean has beat me against and decide that I'm only going to go wading--no more swimming out towards the Rock.
There is something seriously wrong with how I relate to God, but I am afraid to try to fix it.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Past collides with present
We had a family of nine live with us for three months. It kept my mind off of myself. I did continue with the counseling until my 12 year old stepped on (really jumped on) a pickax. At that point I was focused on getting his foot healed and didn't go anywhere for a while and then Thanksgiving and then Christmas and then winter kicked in with a vengence and I couldn't drive the hour to my counseling sessions.
Spring has arrived and we are busy with all the details of building a house. My husband is also looking for a job, so that figures in. I whine around in my mind and on this blog about not having the time or money for counseling. I am homeschooling my children and tutoring 2 others. So that does take up time, but the real thing is that I'm just scared to face up to how I'm allowing what happened in the past to still mess me up in the now. I function as though I was hatched as an adult and am disconnected from my own self. Maybe I'm just thinking weird here. I try really hard to live now without the past intruding.
My 11 year old just figured out this year that the grandma she thought was my mother wasn't really my mother. She added up the grandma's and had too many. I only tell them the good stuff from my childhood. Sometimes I slip and say something along the lines of, "You have no idea what it means to have to be perfect all the time! I don't expect perfection!!!" My 14 year old was complaining that I expected her to be perfect all the time and if she wasn't she got in trouble. The "trouble" she got into is that I give her a short lecture about why she should have done x the way or when I told her to. She says I yell at her. I told her that I have never yelled at her in a glass throwing volume. That was a slip. I've never told my kids about the screaming and dish throwing my mom did. I've never even told my dad.
I was really mad when my daughter said the same things to me that I thought about my mother when I was growing up. I am not the pyscho my mother was! Proof point: I calmly discussed her complaints, but inside I was furious. She couldn't tell how mad I was. My husband couldn't either. I did good.
Spring has arrived and we are busy with all the details of building a house. My husband is also looking for a job, so that figures in. I whine around in my mind and on this blog about not having the time or money for counseling. I am homeschooling my children and tutoring 2 others. So that does take up time, but the real thing is that I'm just scared to face up to how I'm allowing what happened in the past to still mess me up in the now. I function as though I was hatched as an adult and am disconnected from my own self. Maybe I'm just thinking weird here. I try really hard to live now without the past intruding.
My 11 year old just figured out this year that the grandma she thought was my mother wasn't really my mother. She added up the grandma's and had too many. I only tell them the good stuff from my childhood. Sometimes I slip and say something along the lines of, "You have no idea what it means to have to be perfect all the time! I don't expect perfection!!!" My 14 year old was complaining that I expected her to be perfect all the time and if she wasn't she got in trouble. The "trouble" she got into is that I give her a short lecture about why she should have done x the way or when I told her to. She says I yell at her. I told her that I have never yelled at her in a glass throwing volume. That was a slip. I've never told my kids about the screaming and dish throwing my mom did. I've never even told my dad.
I was really mad when my daughter said the same things to me that I thought about my mother when I was growing up. I am not the pyscho my mother was! Proof point: I calmly discussed her complaints, but inside I was furious. She couldn't tell how mad I was. My husband couldn't either. I did good.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Is self-medicating really that bad?
I don't have any problem with drinking and don't see it as a sin like I did when I was a baptist. Maybe the way I use it isn't right, but maybe it is. It doesn't make a merry heart or help my stomach but it does help.
Chocolate, sweet tea, wine coolers, vodka smoothies...they all do the same thing for me. I think the vodka smoothies is the healthiest because of all the fruit I use. Fewest amount of calories and sugar to take care of major times of stress.
I drink a very small amount in social situations, but can down 4-8oz of vodka in a smoothie or oj when I am in extreme stress. Is that wrong? why or why not?
The idea of using med's causes some serious stress reactions, but I can get the same effect the meds would have using vodka but without triggering.
Chocolate, sweet tea, wine coolers, vodka smoothies...they all do the same thing for me. I think the vodka smoothies is the healthiest because of all the fruit I use. Fewest amount of calories and sugar to take care of major times of stress.
I drink a very small amount in social situations, but can down 4-8oz of vodka in a smoothie or oj when I am in extreme stress. Is that wrong? why or why not?
The idea of using med's causes some serious stress reactions, but I can get the same effect the meds would have using vodka but without triggering.
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Not doing good today
I'm not doing so good. The last counseling session put words to things that I don't like to think about. I'm just on the edge of needing to sit with a bucket. I've barely got out of bed today. I got up to have breakfast with my girls at 11:30. They made biscuits and heated up yesterday's gravy. It was good southern food.
I'm supposed to be making a big batch of pumpkin muffins for tomorrow night. A potential pastor is coming to town with his family to meet with us and another family to see about starting a church. I just want to go somewhere, like deep under the covers, and not come out until they are gone. I am feeling so sick.
I'm so tired from trying to be normal for everyone around me...
I usually pull it off or have a good excuse to explain why I seem a bit off. When I can't take it anymore, then I try counseling. It makes it worse, yet I die by little bits when I just push it down and shove it back into boxes. I can't keep doing what I've been doing, but this counseling is scraping off the top layer as it oozes out of my boxes and looks at it and the looking hurts.
It hurts so much that I don't dare feel anything or think about it as me. If I did then I think I would cry...and not stop. It would be the scary crying, the kind that doesn't even care who sees or hears when I'm crying, but beforehand is so scared of the idea of anyone seeing. I don't know what the word is for that kind of crying. I just know that I melt and can only hold onto one thought.
So this is what working through trauma is like. I learned a new word last Thursday or at least had it directed towards me. I have been edgy, jumpy and nauseated ever since. I also read Christa Brown's book, This Little Light, http://christabrown.wordpress.com/my-book/ yesterday and I didn't have enough sense to put it down until I finished it. I knew it was triggering for me, but I couldn't stop reading it anyway. No one to blame but myself.
I'm supposed to be making a big batch of pumpkin muffins for tomorrow night. A potential pastor is coming to town with his family to meet with us and another family to see about starting a church. I just want to go somewhere, like deep under the covers, and not come out until they are gone. I am feeling so sick.
I'm so tired from trying to be normal for everyone around me...
I usually pull it off or have a good excuse to explain why I seem a bit off. When I can't take it anymore, then I try counseling. It makes it worse, yet I die by little bits when I just push it down and shove it back into boxes. I can't keep doing what I've been doing, but this counseling is scraping off the top layer as it oozes out of my boxes and looks at it and the looking hurts.
It hurts so much that I don't dare feel anything or think about it as me. If I did then I think I would cry...and not stop. It would be the scary crying, the kind that doesn't even care who sees or hears when I'm crying, but beforehand is so scared of the idea of anyone seeing. I don't know what the word is for that kind of crying. I just know that I melt and can only hold onto one thought.
So this is what working through trauma is like. I learned a new word last Thursday or at least had it directed towards me. I have been edgy, jumpy and nauseated ever since. I also read Christa Brown's book, This Little Light, http://christabrown.wordpress.com/my-book/ yesterday and I didn't have enough sense to put it down until I finished it. I knew it was triggering for me, but I couldn't stop reading it anyway. No one to blame but myself.
Friday, October 16, 2009
Forgiveness and Dry Heaves
Last Sunday's Sunday school was on Ken Sande's Peacemakers book. Toward the end the focus was on forgiveness. I fought down nausa as long as possible and then fled to the bathroom with, thankfully, dry heaves. All I saw was me standing in the hallway with my teacher telling him I forgave him, again, when I was told how bad I was sinning by refusing to forgive him, again. And then to prove to him that I really forgave him I had to go to the "place where the abuse took place" again. This repeated over and over and over and over and over...
For six weeks I held out and didn't forgive him and go to the "place where the abuse took place" and for six weeks I stood at the wall for the 45 minute recess. He would stand there and tell me that I knew what I had to do to get off the wall.
The things he said to me...
I was such a forgiving child; and now just hearing it taught at church gives me the dry heaves. It has no relation on whether or not I have forgiven him. It doesn't reflect a bitterness on my part. It is a completely undesired, uncontrolable, physical reaction to past trauma. I wish I knew how to shut the videos off without shutting myself off.
For six weeks I held out and didn't forgive him and go to the "place where the abuse took place" and for six weeks I stood at the wall for the 45 minute recess. He would stand there and tell me that I knew what I had to do to get off the wall.
The things he said to me...
I was such a forgiving child; and now just hearing it taught at church gives me the dry heaves. It has no relation on whether or not I have forgiven him. It doesn't reflect a bitterness on my part. It is a completely undesired, uncontrolable, physical reaction to past trauma. I wish I knew how to shut the videos off without shutting myself off.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)