Stuck…

I had a conversation today that left me feeling weird. Unsettled. Like I was more stuck than I actually felt I was to begin with. I can’t pinpoint exactly what spun me out of control. In my world of chaos nothing seems to make sense. I try to process and address the issues that come up. But then something else barrels in that throws me off balance that I wasn’t expecting and I need to reprocess everything again. To make sense of it or try to understand, even if there is no way to do that. This sounds very vague, I know, but I want to believe there is someone out there that understands exactly what I’m saying.

Why is this a bad thing?? Trying to understand trauma and process it is hard. Especially when you don’t always believe yourself or have confidence in your own memories or experiences, past or present. When I have been taught over and over and over that my reality isn’t true, perceived correctly, or am manipulated to think my life is normal and nothing is out of sorts, why should I just assume when you tell me it’s not, or something that happens “was totally expected,” that your voice is the right one?

Because I didn’t expect it. I didn’t know it was going to happen or that it follows the pattern of abuse because I don’t always connect it as quickly and I don’t want to believe this is happening to me. I’m still learning this, remember? Why does it feel wrong for me to want to be sure about something before believing what you tell me? Why downplay my feelings in the moment and say something dismissive like I just need to “move on” or “focus on me?” Aren’t I doing that by trying to gain understanding? Is it really that hard to listen to me process out loud or revisit something again?

Maybe I just need to hear over and over and over that I’m not crazy. Maybe I need to hear more than 5 times (or 100) what the pattern of abuse is and that’s what was happening again. Maybe I need to hear it like it was the first time hearing it. Isn’t that how I learned to conform before all of this chaos began to emerge? Maybe it will take me 5 years of hearing this to really believe it when that information competes with 40 years of learning and hearing something different. Maybe I need to stay in this spot a little longer before “the next step” in my healing so I really understand what has happened and can begin to accept it because I feel really confused and unsure right now about everything. So why would I move to the next thing when I’m not even sure where I am in this moment?

Maybe after having a brain scan that verifies and validates I have trauma markers from the past and present was really a lot to absorb when all along I’ve been trying to find ways that I was wrong that this all existed. Maybe I need more answers to my questions about that because a ten minute explanation wasn’t really enough. Maybe. Maybe not. All I know is that I feel like I was hit by a truck two times this week, even though what happened in the first incident and what I learned in the second were both “expected.” But it doesn’t mean that it is as easy for me to move forward and move on as it is for you.

I still have voices in my head that yell at me from the past. And they still yell at me in the present to try and maintain control of me. I’ve just learned to recognize these voices. I’m still learning that maybe those voices are not what I’m supposed to be listening to or following. It’s a process. It’s my process. Sometimes I just need to revisit and reprocess and think about it again. Not because I’m trying to spin my wheels and stay stuck. But because I’m trying to spin them out of the mud, and sometimes that means moving backwards to reposition the wheels so the treads can grip something new to pull me out.

If Walls Could Talk…

If the walls that surround her could talk…they’d tell you this…

“There have been some who have hurt here before, but this one…she is lost, she has no hope. She’s confused and scared, ambushed by many, and she is cornered. Her eyes dart back and forth…she’s lost in her thoughts, unable to make sense of her world. She doesn’t know which way to turn or where to go. She’s alone. She has no one to hold her. Her husband leaves her feeling empty and cold. He is unsafe. There is no love or kindness from him. She cannot feel it.”

“She’s a child…but she’s not. She cries in her sleep and she screams out in terror. She lays still with eyes wide open, frozen, while the touch across her body transports her to a world of confusion and distress. As he moves about her, his words smooth and sly, the panic rises inside of her and she is overcome with anguish, no longer able to take anymore. She trembles and cries, curls up, and is unable to speak. He looks at her and says simply, “you’re ok…”  and turns over, leaving her, cold and alone again. He’s blinded by himself, she’s not ok, but he got what he wanted from her. She shakes, trying to gain control, and wonders what she did to deserve to be so hated. She wonders why she is so inadequate and if he’ll ever really see her. She feels used. Invisible. No one sees her. No one rescues her.”

“She escapes from her reality and cries out to God. She clings to the pages of His word, caressing them methodically back and forth, a momentary calm washes over her. Her peace disappears when they enter..searching for her companionship. She breathes deeply and returns to her tasks. She worries she does everything wrong. She feels like she’s failed as a mother. Her confidence is waning. Nothing she does satisfies her. She counts the minutes until her fingers can run across those smooth pages again. She is weary.”

“He sleeps soundly next to her, oblivious to her heartache and pain. Her chest heaves as she tries to breathe. Tears flow freely. The nights are hard for her. She’s afraid to sleep. Her pen moves furiously across pages and pages…pleading through unending prayers night after night. She finally relents and closes her eyes but her mind races still. She is so restless.”

“When the light peers in at dawn, he moves about in a fury and she startles out of her dreams. Her breaths are short and labored as her heart pounds through her chest. He leaves her and walks away in a rush. She sighs deeply. She’s a fighter. She rises again, embattled, though weak-kneed. Her shoulders hunch over somedays, weary of what’s ahead. She disappears into her day and we wonder if she is ok…there have been some who have hurt here before, but they have escaped. But she…she has no hope. She is confused and she’s scared. We surround her. We protect her. We hope for her because she can not.”

Please Rescue Me…

Dear God, today I’m not so sure we’re ok. I don’t understand what’s going on in my life or what it is you want me to do. Love my enemies. Surrender. Trust. Have faith. Develop a personal relationship? How can I? These buzz words and phrases I get tired of hearing. Tired of trying to achieve. I’m afraid I don’t measure up. I haven’t been praying as I usually do…does that offend you? Is my faith too weak and scattered? How can I be what you want if your standards are impossible to reach? I’m human. I don’t have the strength to handle what you’ve dealt me. It’s too much. My plate is full. It’s overflowing actually…it’s been dropped all over the floor and I’m crying over the mess of gunk I now have to clean up as well. I don’t know how to stand tall and reflect what you need me to because I feel like I am the epitome of darkness. My life is a mess. It wasn’t my plan. I tried to stop it but I failed. I tried to cover it but my blanket is too small. I’m trying to hide but exposure screams and beckons me like a fire does a moth but then it burns me up. Memories are flashing again and dreams are haunting and terrorizing me in my sleep. I don’t know what they mean. Why are they here again? What do I do? Where do I go from here? I have a million choices to make and I can’t hear your voice or know what you want me to do. I’m stuck. I’m lost. And I’m scared.

College Bound…

A violent bloodbath occurred in my entire inner being and my heart exploded into tiny, painful shards of emptiness as I hugged my son and told him with as much sincerity as I ever have that I loved him. I couldn’t even feel the anguish that was pulsing through my body because the intensity of this feeling was just too much to handle…it had been building up for weeks and I have been forcefully pushing it down each time it welled up. I knew if I looked him in the eyes I would lose the tiny shred of control I had left in me. I lowered my gaze and turned and walked away, heartbroken and empty.

I have an incredible sense of insecurity in all of my relationships. It seems as though every important being I have given the entirety of myself and all my trust to has turned against me with hurt and rejection tenfold. The few that have nurtured me, and I am invested in and proud of, I hold very close to me with a white knuckled death grip of determination to not lose the tiny bit of good that I receive from them in my life.

I fear I cannot handle any more loss in my life. And while this occasion was supposed to be one of happiness and joy, expectation and excitement, adventurous and liberating, it has left me, unexpectedly, with such a sadness that I can’t even describe. I wasn’t expecting this. I’ve been fighting for him to  get to this point, unscathed and in one piece; advocating for him and his ability to grow in his maturity, character, young adult wisdom, and wit. But amidst all that, all I want to do is crumple to the floor in despair at the thought that this baby of mine is gone, off to conquer the world and do great things.

Selfish me has a hole inside that needs to keep this precious one close so that hole does not spiral into an abyss of darkness where I fear I cannot get out. I can’t bear the thought of losing one more person in my life that I have loved so unconditionally. In my world of insecurities and uncertainties I want the relationships I have confidence in to stay close to me. It’s too hard to let them go when they are the only ones that keep me going in the midst of all the rest that break me down and kick me into a state of motionless defeat.

My children are my lifeblood. They keep me alive. I am so proud of them and who they are, even when they aren’t the greatest they can be. I love them with all of my being, even when I can’t find love for anything else. I am so proud and in love with this young man but so sad about this change and emptiness I must endure as he goes out and discovers the world with his own eyes without me. I didn’t think he would be the one who broke me down like this but I should have known…it’s always the ones I least expect that do.

Winter…

His hand moved toward my face and his thumb rested on my cheek, fingers wrapped around the back of my neck. He pulled on the sleeve of my red jacket and laid me down. The snow was falling. I watched it through the window of the car door in the orange glare of the light post. I felt the cold fake leather of the front seat on the back of my head where my hair was parted. My head pressed up against the armrest of the door.

His cold finger penetrated my body…his belt buckle jingled. The snow…the fat flakes drift down from the sky. They dance in the light and swirl and twirl in circles around each other. It’s peaceful and quiet out there and I too drift away with each and every flake into another world.

Is this a dream? Can I even trust my own mind? Where is this coming from? Daddy? What are you doing? ? What did I do wrong…?

Oh God…what is this? I feel so crazy. Am I making this up? Take this away from me. I need the snowflakes again…please..give me snowflakes…

Run Wild, Live Free…

I cower in fear in the corner of my mind. I’ve been beaten and battered and twisted and tattered so many times this is my safe place. Stay back. Stay quiet. Don’t feel. Don’t move. It’s too dangerous. I feel trapped…even though I’m not.

Freedom is an elusive thought for me. I don’t even know what it means or what it looks like. How can I know if I even want it? At least here in this corner I know what to expect and I know how it feels and I know how to self soothe. Go out into the world? Run? What are you even talking about?? That’s “crazy talk.” That’s for brave people. Not me. I don’t belong out there. I don’t deserve that.

I’m like a caged animal. I’m not under anyone’s control anymore and my door is open to go out but I can’t. I’m too scared. I’m afraid I’ll be alone…even though I’ve never felt more isolated and as lonely as I do now. I’m afraid I’ll fail. I’m afraid to tell my story and live out in the world free of the pain I’ve been in. It’s terrifying. But I want it SO badly. But I can’t. No one would understand why I walked away. Would anyone even believe me? Everyone else has been trained to see the facade he’s built as well. I would be the crazy one. But no one knows, that right now, I’m already crazy inside my head. Maybe the freedom takes the crazy away. But what if I’m hurt again? I can’t take anymore. I just can’t.

I’m numb. I can’t move. I can’t even get the words so desperately needing release out of that corner of my mind. I pray to God to help me. But does He even hear me?

God? Are you there? HELP! Give me strength to endure my own emotions. Understanding and wisdom to see how you will use this for good. Patience to be still and learn. And love…help me understand your love…your perfect and pure love. I don’t know how to receive it. Father, take my hand. I’m too afraid. I don’t know where I’m supposed to go or what I’m supposed to do. My hurt is deep. My fear is strong. You know this. I need you…

Gasping For Air…

It’s been three weeks since I set this space up. I want to use it to get things out of my head and in to the open. But ironically, the secrets stay stuck inside of me. And even more ironic, this doesn’t reveal the real me…it’s just disclosure in secret. Secrets. Everywhere. I hate secrets. They represent darkness, isolation, hurt, and fear to me. All things I want so desperately to gain freedom from.

I’ve lived in a world too painful to ever tell. I’ve lived with relationships too hurtful and humiliating and shameful to ever show their reality. I’ve lived in darkness for as long as I can remember and sometimes not even knowing that the darkness was even there. I’ve been lied to, betrayed, abused, rejected, and misled. I’ve been taught that my worth and ability to be loved lies within earning it, being controlled, manipulated, agreeable, or looking a certain way.

The person I thought I was has crumbled all around me into a big messy heap and exposed more of who I feel I really am sometimes. I’ve been hiding…wearing a mask of strength, steadiness, perfection, and order. But underneath I really just feel weak, damaged, used, insecure, uncertain, and like a failure.

I need freedom from the hurt. I need life returned to me. I need air in my lungs. I want to believe that I’m ok. But I feel like I can’t breathe.

God? Where are You?? Why so much ugliness? Why so much pain? Why so much confusion? Why so much loneliness? Why so much fear inside of me that even You don’t love me like You say You do? I’m fighting to follow You and bask in Your grace and glory but the darkness sits inside and holds on to me like a prisoner held in place by chains…