Closing the Gap

I've tried to explain this to many before; what I refer to as "the gap".  Some understand but many do not. I guess that's a good thing for those who have been unaffected by the damages of divorce and family dysfunction. I realized years ago that I have suffered what I have referred to now as a gap in family connection with my paternal side after a long ugly divorce.  

My mother initiated the divorce when I was 9.  She left my dad for his friend.  It was downplayed, it was minimized and it was made out to be something different than what it really was.  I see it for what it is now, as it matches the patterns of everything else clearly.  It's her go-to defense mechanism for survival. If not for that, I'm not sure how she could live with her self at this point.  

Shortly after the divorce came the re-marriage; which they had to hop state lines to accomplish because WI has a "cooling off" period between divorce and marriage licenses being issued.

Almost immediately after the covert out of state elopement, the control and manipulation started and this toxic environment made it difficult for me go back and forth between my parents so eventually I stopped seeing my dad altogether. Once my safe parent was out of my life, I was in the perfect spot for grooming and this made it even easier to be controlled and eventually abused by my mother's husband. 

From the age of 11 to almost 18,  I had little to no contact with my father and his family.  After the hell my mother put him through, he was a broken man for a while.  Hearing me say the words I was coerced into saying "don't pick me up, I don't ever want to see you again" must have killed whatever was left inside of him and so he didn't try. 

Fortunately during this time he met and married an amazing woman. (and even more fortunately for me, she has become a better mom to me than my own!) But in this time, with no relationship with my daddy and the family I'd known my whole life; my young developing mind underwent trauma that I wouldn't understand until years later. Even when at 19, I had my first child and my dad was there, and then at almost 20, I married and began to see my family regularly; I still felt this gap.  I felt this cavernous hole and all the pain associated with the missing years at every single family gathering.  

I didn't understand what was happening at first.  Prior to family gatherings I would just turn into a raving lunatic... taking out all my anxiety on my poor husband. I always thought it was the stress of packing...because most visits involved "going up north" and included packing for several days.  (and that IS stressful!)But then inevitably and almost immediately upon leaving (usually in the car) I would burst into tears.  Honestly, sometimes I even shed tears in private while still visiting.  

As I gained awareness of my anxieties and learned how to work through them it became easier but it's been a long hard road.  One of the things that was key to my healing was giving myself permission to grieve the loss. I had to see myself as that little girl who's life was torn upside down, who's fault it never was and let her cry it out over and over.  With no self judgement.  (that wasn't easy after years of abuse...but that's been something else I'm working on too)

Over the years there were times of pushing people away because I thought it was easier than feeling the pain. (and I had myself convinced that no one really loved me-that was an entirely different battle) but once I was able to truly understand that facing the "gap" head on and making the most out of any time spent together was the only way to minimize the damage of this gap, that is when true healing has taken place.  I know there will always be a scar, but the searing pain has faded with time and in it's place is an awareness of joy and blessings. 

This weekend we had a family wedding and I was able to see my entire family; hug them, embrace them, love them, feel loved by them and walk away feeling incredible joy.  Today I cried at the realization that I've come so far.  

Does it still sting a little when I remember all the years I've missed out on with my daddy? (and the rest of the family)  Damn right, it always will.  But I'm not looking backwards. I'm in the present; ever grateful for every moment I have now.  

Let Your Burdens Come Undone

I'm starting to see the patterns more clearly.  Something happens that triggers a ptsd response and try as I might to "deal" with it in a healthy way, years of repressed grief are difficult to just let go of, so my mind body and soul do what they have always done; try to bury it.  Part of that is normal.  How can I function if I'm crying daily?  There are always meals to cook (or at the very least decide on and order out for!) Laundry to wash, fold and let sit in baskets (let's be real here), dishes to rinse, stack and wash later, bills to pay, checkbooks to balance, budgets to set... you get the picture.

I'm getting better at allowing myself freedom to release my feelings but I'm not all the way there yet, so when the last fight with my daughter occurred I allowed myself a few tears and then promptly put my emotions on the back burner and went about my usual routine.  What happened next is what inevitably happens.  I experienced a short bout of depression, during which I began to suffer with an excruciating pain in my neck/spine.  I have a long history with chronic pain and when it strikes I become quickly hopeless because it's debilitating. Thankfully I found  a new chiropractor who has been helping me and the pain has been greatly alleviated.  This lifted my state of despondency quickly since it gave me hope.  

With less pain, and the vibrant colors of Autumn on the horizon and a spring in my step I jumped into a happy-go-lucky upswing with such an extreme urge to live fully that I experienced a bout of mania...some impulsive shopping.  (hey no judging I limited myself to the dollar store and decorated my house for Autumn!) I was truly on a life high, shopping, crafting, planning and living. For an entire week I was on the go, staying up late, not getting much sleep, waking up early and staying busy busy busy. I then spent a fun filled weekend with my dear cousin, staying up til the wee hours of the morning giggling, talking and bonding. We of course slept very little, and we had a few drinks and indulged in some rich food...all things I'm not accustomed to. But truly amazing fun and I can't wait to do it again!!! :)

By the time I arrived home Sunday evening I could feel the fatigue of the week setting in and by Monday by throat was sore...So I had done a number on my body and lowered my immune system. I didn't just catch a cold either, I caught a fricking walking dead zombie plague.  The mother of all viruses that turned bacterial.  16 days of misery.  5 days of fevers. 10 days of antibiotics.  Coughing, oh the coughing...I've probably developed some ab muscles from coughing.  I know I did some incidental kegels whilst coughing...

Two weeks of pain followed by two weeks of illness and my house was seriously trashed.  Talk about overwhelmed...I don't handle clutter well at all.  I like my home to be neat, tidy and sanitized. Anything less makes me feel out of sorts.

All this to say that I just spent the last day and a half marathon cleaning my house and am starting to feel like it's back in order and of course my pain level has shot back up with all the bending & lifting. There is no doubt in my mind that one type of pain triggers the other but I'm determined to not let physical pain (especially one acquired by productive cleaning) trigger a negative emotional response.
(wonder if I'll ever get to the point where I can prevent emotional pain from triggering physical pain??)

I decided to take a cleaning break and sit down at my computer, I felt like looking at some old blogs...and I came across this entry: When Black & White Turn to Gray which was about a fight with my daughter from last May. At the time I wrote this we hadn't spoken in almost a year, and it went on like that until Christmas.  We then slowly began to rebuild our relationship.  We spent some quality one on one time together, worked out some issues.  Did some shopping, got some lunches, coffees, had some girl time.  Fun. Love. Hugs. Mother-daughter time.  I thought we were on the road to restoration.  And then it just fell apart.  She had some issues.  She talked. I listened.  She vented. I validated.  She shared her hurts. I honored them. I apologized for what was mine. But it wasn't enough.  Her anger was visceral. Her words were again tinged with venom. She spewed hatred. She crossed boundaries. She blamed. She triggered me and I ultimately lost my cool. Now it's been quiet again.

This happened shortly before my neck pain started.  It feels like this fight was the same fight, she's mad and still saying hurtful things.  It's no wonder I had a ptsd response.  I feel like I have to continue defending my stance on why I'm angry with my abuser, why I'm hurt by the the one who enabled his abuse.  I just want to heal and move on but in some ways people won't let me.  How can anyone ask me to be in the same place as the man who molested me? The last thing I said to my daughter was that I don't know how to have a relationship with her while she is aligned with my abusers.  It was the single hardest text I've ever written.  I had to set a boundary for my own mental health, with my own child.  How fair is that? It's no wonder I'm hurting and my heartache is manifesting into bone & muscle pain.  I'm surprised I'm still standing.  It's absolutely breaking my heart.  It's literally ripping me in two.  I can't choose one over the other. What she's asking of me, would literally mean the undoing of all I've worked towards in my healing.  The undoing of my own personal sanity.  Yet, she is MY child. I want to choose her, sacrifice for her.  How can I do that and not come undone? I miss my baby girl.  I feel an emptiness inside, that I've been ignoring for fear that I will completely fall apart and not be able to to be put back together again. It's not natural for a mother to not see, hear, touch, hold, hug, kiss, love their own flesh and blood; not for days, weeks, months. This is not how motherhood is supposed to be.  It's just not.

(So of course as I wrote the above paragraph I bawled like a baby.  The line from the song He Knows by Jeremy Camp "let your burdens come undone" is where I struggle most when giving it to God...but when I'm writing, it all comes out.  That's why I blog!)

There is this peace in my heart about where I'm at in life despite all the pain and suffering. Ultimately I know it comes from the Holy Spirit, but I also believe that it's from accepting and being still and in the acceptance and stillness I know that He's working in my life.  I see all the beauty from ashes, all the strength from suffering, and all the character from perseverance.  I don't know what the future holds, but I know it holds a promise for good so I will keep on keepin on, taking one day at a time.

#HeKnows

Lyrics:
All the bitter weary ways
endless striving day by day
you barely have the strength to pray
in the valley low

how hard your fight has been
how deep the pain within
wounds that no one else has seen
hurts too much to show 

all the doubt you're standing in between
And all the weight that brings you to your knees

HE KNOWS, HE KNOWS 
EVERY HURT AND EVERY STING
HE HAS WALKED THE SUFFERING
HE KNOWS, HE KNOWS
LET YOUR BURDENS COME UNDONE
LIFT YOUR EYES UP TO THE ONE
WHO KNOWS
HE KNOWS

we may faint and we may sink
feel the pain and near the brink
but the dark begins to shrink
when you find the one who knows

the chains of doubt that held you in between
one by one are starting to break free

every time that you feel forsaken
every time that you feel alone
He is near to the broken hearted
every tear
He knows…

Mid-life Identity Crisis Averted

I've spent my entire life trying to figure out who I am.  I've been caught in the cycle of defining myself by my circumstances (past & present) or my accomplishments and failures.  My childhood endured trauma.  Does that mean my identity is tied to being a victim?  I've struggled to work through all the pain and anguish it takes to survive. Does that mean my identity is that of a survivor?  
I became a mom at 19.  Does that make me a teen mom? I married my husband at 19.  Does that make me child bride?  I never attended college after completing 12th grade. Does that make me uneducated? I worked some part time jobs in customer service and eventually landed a full time position in collections; complete with salary, benefits and room for growth potential.  Did that make me a career person?  Once I lost it, did that make me a dead beat?  How about that battle with depression, inpatient stay in a psyche hospital and subsequent outpatient work and ongoing therapy?  Am I a mental patient? I've made some major mistakes in my marriage.  As a mom.  As a friend. Daughter. Human.  Do these things define me?  

I thought they defined me.   Until recently.  I continually saw all of these as how I measured up, or failed to measure up.  For example, since my childhood sustained abuse and neglect, I arrived at the conclusion that I must be unlovable.  My identity=orphan 

When we define ourselves by things of this world we put our security on shaky ground.  Jobs can be lost, relationships can fall apart, people can leave, trust can be broken, money can be spent, careers can die, education can be a dead end, health can fail.  And on and on and on.  We can succeed, we can fall short. We can soar and we can crash.  There is only one absolute we can define ourselves by. God Never changes. 

Herbrews 13:8 Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.

Recently I decided to take a much needed social media break to do some reflecting on God's word and spend more time in prayer. My family has re-committed to attending church again after not going for over a year, so I've also used this time to catch up on last years sermons. (which are conveniently available online.) Today's sermon was on identity. It reminded me of something I had written last year so I took a peek back at an older blog titled:  Loved By Choice

A year ago, I was on to something...even then I believe the Lord was trying to reach me where I was at, to let me know I was loved by Him without condition.  He knew I was hurting too much to read His word, so He met me in my dreams. But now, that I'm knocking on that door, and seeking His face and asking, He is answering the door with arms wide open, showing me His face, giving me the answers and the validation in every single prayer, every devotion and every scripture. 

(and let me just say, God IS awesome!)

Ephesians 1:3-8 Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ.  For he chose us in him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight.  In love he predestined us to be adopted as his sons through Jesus Christ in accordance with his pleasure and will to the praise of his glorious grace, which he has freely given us in the One he loves. In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God's Grace that he lavished on us with all wisdom and understanding. 

That is Loved By Choice my friends.  It couldn't get any better than that.  

THIS is my identity:
I am HIS, He CHOSE me.  I have but ONE purpose.  To live for Him. To share His Good news and let His light shine.

He chose you too.  He gave His life for you too.  I don't know who will read this, but I trust that God gave me these words and it will reach who it needs to and I pray that these words will touch your heart.  None of these material things define you.  The love of a mighty God defines you and it was freely given long ago on Calvary's cross.  I serve a mighty God and He will meet you where you are at, and He will take all your hurt and He will use it for good. It's His promise.  And I believe it because it is what He is doing in my life.  Beauty from Ashes.  

Depression Awareness

It seems everywhere I look the whole world is filled with talk of the tragic suicide of comedian Robin Williams. Every news-feed, blogger, writer and twitter-er has hopped on the well-meaning band wagon with something to say. Heart felt condolences for his family and sad goodbyes for a well loved man with much notoriety for his many talents. 

I'm going to be brutally honest here.  It kinda pisses me off.  And here's why.  Why does it take the death of a celebrity for people to wake up and realize this nation is facing a huge problem?  Why does it take the suicide of a famous comedian for people to understand that many people who suffer from depression are in fact hiding behind a facade of humor?  Robin Williams was not some exception. I would be curious to know how many other prominent comedians who suffered the same fate used their talents to disguise their pain in the same way. (think back to the many great ones who have died of drug overdoses: John Belushi, Chris Farley to name a few) 

Comedy is an art.  For most people art is a form of therapy. But for many humor can also be a mask.  I know this too well myself.  Which means it's not just reserved for those with stardom but also for us regular joes. 

My therapist has laughed at me for 8 years.  She giggles so much at some of my sessions there should be a cover charge for her instead of the other way around. Or at the very least, I should require a two drink minimum. Seriously folks, I'm not even kidding.  We're talking comedy club level stuff. It's my mask.  I wear it well. Clearly my material is not up to Robin William's caliber, I don't have the stuff that makes a multi-millionaire with Hollywood movies & HBO specials. I'm certainly no comedian extraordinaire. I'm just your average Midwestern girl- funny-if you really know me.  But it's no secret, I use sassy, sometimes sardonic humor to hide my feelings. And I get laughs. 

I think Robin Williams was amazing.  He will be missed by many.  It's not those heartfelt messages that I am upset by.  It's the fact that it took his suicide as a much loved celebrity, for people to realize that we need to raise an awareness about depression and what it looks like. And it's my fear that regular people will still be overlooked.  

Not to mention the problem that exists with social media. Let's face it, as soon as the next big news story hits the feeds; all the internet buzz will die down and with it all the "awareness" and we'll be back to where we were. With little to no interest in the facts and the real people all around will be once again in the shadows back to suffering alone. The friends and family members who are the regular people around us daily suffering with severe depression will still be facing their demons alone. But they won't get noticed or recognized because they aren't famous. Everyone will just go about their busy lives paying no attention to; and often passing judgment on those "pathetic depressed people who can't get their act together and just get over it."  

For they are just the dregs of society. The unproductive ones and the many who drain our tax dollars. The addicts and the whores, the welfare moms and the mentally ill, the all those who just can't seem to hold down a job and are wandering aimlessly through life.  What about that bum on the corner who spends his only $ on booze or that grown adult who lives with their parents still or that stay-at-home-mom with grown kids who sits on her fat ass all day and watches tv and cries.    

Any one of these people could hide behind humor, or use any other mask to disguise their pain and then in one tragic night slip away from the world silently and no one would notice.  It won't matter when they take their life, because they didn't add so much to everyone's life with their comedy and movies and humor and inspirations like that of a celebrity. So we don't need to draw awareness to their hurts and their debilitating depression. We don't need to blog and twitter about them.  Just the ones with fame.  

The fact remains that these regular people feel just as alone as any depressed celebrity feels.  That is depression. Alone in a crowded room.  Alone in fame. Alone.

Let me tell you what I've learned from my first hand experiences:

Not all people who suffer with depression are mentally ill. Not all mentally ill people are depressed. They are not one in the same.  It's not a one size fits all diagnosis. 

Not all people who suffer with depression are addicted to drugs or alcohol.  Not all addicts are depressed. 

Not all people who suffer with depression have a chemical imbalance that drugs can fix.  In fact, many times anti-depressants make it worse.  Guess what, even IF and WHEN someone is lucky enough to find a medicine that works, it's not fool-proof.  There is no miracle drug, and it's certainly not without it's side effects. No matter what, depression rebounds.  That is the nature of this beast. Whether it's cyclical, situational, chemical, seasonal, post traumatic, it will inevitably be back. And just knowing that, is sometimes enough to trigger another episode strangely enough. 

Not all people who suffer with depression are ungrateful and without joy.  Nor do they "just"  need to pray and have faith.  Or "just" need Jesus.   Case in point: I've been a Christian my whole life. I've been with and without faith.  I've heard the very voice of God whisper in my ear. I've felt His presence so tangible I will NEVER doubt His existence again.   I've worshiped Him in good times and in bad, I've felt His hand on my head and His arms around me.  I've felt the Peace that passes all understanding and I've had Joy that overflows, but I've also wandered through the dry dessert, and waited in the wilderness and cried out to Him while lying with my face to the floor begging Him to free me from this pain & anguish.  I know God.  I have faith and yet I still have a black hole in my heart and an emptiness that I believe won't be filled until I'm free from this earth.    

I've been in therapy for 10 years.  I've been told that it is unhealthy to have black & white / all or nothing thinking. Why is it then, when addressing depression that the rest of the world who has not suffered with depression gets to treat those of us with depression with this type of mindset?  It's not simple.  There is no easy fix.  It's not a 1, 2, 3...just go to the doctor. Just go get 'help'.  Just get a pill. Just be happy.  Just tell me what is wrong.  Just just just...Just shove it.  Just shut your damn pie hole.  

Basically, if you have never suffered through a debilitating depression, you JUST don't get an opinion. 

You just don't get to ask questions.  You just don't get to pass judgement.  You just don't get to. Period.  End of story. 

Here's the thing: I will show humility here because authentic is all I can ever be.  Even I, who have suffered with depression since I was 15 have been known to pass judgement on those around me who are depressed.  Why you ask?  Because when I'm not in the throes of a depression it simply does NOT make sense.  It is in those moments that I understand why it doesn't compute to those of you whose brains are not wired this way.  The reason it makes so much sense to me now is because I am neck deep in yet another bout of wrestling with my demons.  I want to throw myself off the cliff and quit.  I feel like I can't go on another day.  I have no will to live.  I just cant. So right now, I get it because I am living it.  

For those of you who can't understand it, you don't have to.  Thank GOD you don't.  All you have to do is love us and be there for us.  Silently.  Unconditionally.  Maybe with chocolate.  But for the love of God, don't take it personal.  Don't ask why.  Don't try to fix it, or fix us, or assume it's you. It's not you. It's not us. It's depression. It JUST is what it is and it will pass.  And then damn if it will eventually be back again.  It's like the rising of the tide, the setting of the sun.  It's depression, it's how we are wired and it's not our faults.  We can't help it anymore than anyone else can help any other disease or other biological thing about the way they were made.  I'm not going to feel guilty for it ever again, or apologize for it anymore.  I am who I am.  This is me, take it or leave it.  I get depressed.  I fall down, and then I get back up.  I hope and pray I never get so low and so dark that I take my own life.  So far, my record for getting back up is 100%.  

If you know someone who is or has been depressed before and you love them like you say you do, then check in.  I've heard this before: "let us know if it gets bad again" yeah...because I'm going to call when I feel like an unloved orphan who's been outcast like a leper.  Really? Who's being stupid here?  

If you are depressed and you are reading this I'm not going to blow smoke up your ass and say stupid cliche things like "just get help".  You and I both know it ain't ever that easy. Chances are, you've sought help over and over and you are back at what feels like the same damn place but some small part of you knows it's really not because each step is progress, so hang in there for the worst to pass and when you can muster the strength, reach out to the one person who really gets you.  I hope you have a 2 am friend and I hope it's not me cuz I'm in a bad place.  (Just bein real) But if I am...text me.  

If you can call for help, counseling is important.  It has saved my ass.  I joke obviously, because it's my mask. But for real, in all seriousness,  I cherish my therapist. She is in her profession for a reason and for that I am thankful beyond words. If you don't have a counselor and you are depressed, find one.  It could be the difference between life and death. And even though you aren't famous, you will be missed.  You are important.  You do matter.  You have value and you are loved.  It's only your depression making you believe that it's not true and you know it.  

I'm not going to leave links for hotlines and help.  If you are reading this blog, you aren't computer illiterate.  I'm not going to treat you like an idiot.  If there is one thing I hate as a person who suffers with depression it's being treated like I'm mentally handicapped just because I'm depressed. You know how to google.  Get to googling. 

I'm depressed.  It will pass.  I feel a bit better after writing this.  There is Hope.  

Yesterday's a closing door

I recently had one of those emotional moments that reminds me of what happens after getting sucker punched and losing the ability to breathe.  I heard my breath catch in my throat, I felt my heart skip a beat and then it felt like my entire world just fell out from under me and I was free falling into nothingness as time stood still. 

My family and I had spent the weekend cleaning the basement which resulted in going through bins in storage that contained stuff we no longer use. I brought a few bins upstairs to go through later by myself.  (I have discovered local online rummage sales via Facebook and I've been selling stuff we don't want.)

After getting the basement cleaned together, I started to sort through the remaining bins on my own this week.  One of these contained old photo albums & frames I have no room to hang, so I began making piles of photo albums (to obviously keep) and empty frames to sell. As I worked my way deeper into the bin, that is when it happened. 

I came across a solitary photograph, loose from my wedding album; a picture of my mom and me.  

I swear I had to tell myself to breathe.  It didn't just happen reflexively like it's supposed to. 

I feel like I had to also remind my brain to signal my heart to resume beating. Because in that moment, the pain was so deep I wished it had stopped for good. 

When the room stopped spinning and my body resumed it's normal involuntary functions, all I felt was immeasurable pain and heart ache and then my tears started. 

By the Grace of God I was able to wipe my tears and resume the task at hand, only slightly affected by yet another painful reminder of what used to be.  

This happened on June 23...later that night I realized my pre-order of Danny Gokey's cd was available on itunes and I downloaded it. One song immediately caught my eye and when I listened to it I began to cry.  

Every word fit perfectly with what I've been going through and served as a faithful reminder from a Loving God that I'm right where I need to be. Even when I stumble and fall, He will pick me back up and when my heart breaks, He will give me the Strength to tell my heart to beat again.  

God bless all the talented musical artists who use their gift to speak words of love, encouragement and life into those who need it. I started this blog after hearing Jason Gray's Nothing is Wasted, and now I'm blogging again after hearing Danny Gokey's latest song.  Tell Your Heart To Beat Again.

http://youtu.be/VFDSyIHCP-o    <---link to video


Lyrics

Shattered, like you've never been before
The life you knew, in a thousand pieces on the floor
Words fall short in times like these
When this world drives you to your knees
You think you're never gonna get back
To the you, that you used to be

Chorus-
Tell your heart to beat again
Close your eyes and breathe it in
Let the shadows fall away
Step into the light of Grace
Yesterday's a closing door
You don't live there anymore
Say goodbye to where you've been
And tell your heart to beat again

Beginning-  just let that word wash over you
It's all right now, Loves healing hands have pulled you through
So get back up, take step one
Leave the darkness, feel the sun (Son)
Because your story's far from over
And your journey's just begun

Chorus

Let every heartbreak and every scar
Be a picture that reminds you, Who has carried you this far
Because Love sees farther, than you ever could
And in this moment Heaven's working, everything for your good

Chorus
   

Before you speak T.H.I.N.K.

I feel like sharing today about this journey I've been on.  Life is a journey.  Sometimes people forget that we are all on our own journey because they are focused on their final destinations or are caught up in their own life.  (and life can be messy and painful so I understand the distraction) But regardless we are all on a journey. An individual and unique path through life. My journey has brought me from a broken place of abuse, neglect and abandonment to a place of wholeness and wellness. In traveling this path I've had to change my thinking and learn how to define boundaries and then set them around me.

One thing that has been clear lately is my resolve regarding who I will allow in my life and to what extent.  I've decided with confidence that I will no longer tolerate abuse or cruelty of any sort.  How do I define abuse? Treatment that is devaluing to me as a person.  It is my goal to treat others as I would like to be treated. I expect to be treated with kindness and respect.  I do understand that the human race is fallible therefore I know others will make mistakes that hurt my feelings. But if I feel I can express myself when I'm hurt, know that I'm heard by the person who caused it and then see them make amends which lead towards a change; then I will be more than gracious with forgiveness and in welcoming this person into my life. After-all I will also make mistakes, and I do like to be forgiven and given a clean slate. So I hope others would extend me the same grace. 

That being said, sometimes the golden rule isn't enough when setting boundaries because people are so broken they are apathetic and they don't even care how people treat them; which is clearly reflected in how poorly they treat others.  Or the opposite happens, people are so broken they become self absorbed and are only capable of worrying about how they are being treated that they forget to stop and think about what they are putting out there in the atmosphere. That is not the case with me anymore.

I care how I am treated and I care how I treat others.  I understand fully that others aren't in this same place in their life journeys as I am, and I accept that.  But I still don't have to accept their treatment.  I can walk away with my head held high.

Before we speak we need to think:

I think the above poster that  we see plastered all over school walls is just as important for adults to remember as it is for us to instill in our children.  

Yesterday my dear Aunt posted something on my facebook page saying that the potus will be coming for a visit to my husbands employer.  I could have engaged in a negative conversation.  I'm not a democrat, I didn't vote for him and I don't like his ideals and decisions.  But that wasn't the purpose for her post.  She was clearly excited that the president of the United States of America (despite his political affiliations or stances) was going to be at the company my husband works for.  It is newsworthy.  It is exciting for some. Could you imagine if he was coming to your place of work and you voted for him?  If President George W.Bush had made a visit that I was able to attend, I'd have been ecstatic to see him speak!

The point being,  I didn't need to start a political debate or be unkind so I didn't.  Instead we talked about the plant he will be visiting (actually not the one my hubby works in) and how traffic is affected and where Air Force 1 will land.  etc.  We both already know each others opinions and thoughts on politics.  There is a time and place for political discussions and debates.  This wasn't one.  This was two family members who love each other simply sharing some news and having a pleasant conversation.  

Admittedly in the past, I might have said something unkind, unnecessary, and perhaps downright rude.   Truth be told, I don't want to be that person anymore.  I didn't like that person and I'm fairly certain many others didn't like me as well.  I also don't want to engage in those meaningless conversations with others who are still like that. 

Yesterday  I posted something (that you could refer to as a first world problem) and someone  wrote "who cares".  At first, I defended him in my mind by thinking that my "problem" really wasn't a big deal in the big picture that would cause concern for many. On the contrary it was just an irritating thing to me. So I replied with a joke "I do" and the appropriate sticky out tongue face. :p  After realizing that I didn't feel "ok" about this exchange, I wrote "didn't your mama teach you, if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all?".

It was at this precise moment, that I realized that I was doing what I've always done in the face of unacceptable treatment.  Minimizing it, (after all why should he care, it wasn't of grave importance) cracking wise, (a snarky smilicon and a good joke always detract from the real issue) and then feeling the need to defend myself against his cold words with an admonishment that we say to a child. (because in their immaturity they don't know better!)

Clearly by reacting this way, I was allowing this behavior to continue.  I was setting a precedent. So I thought of the many other instances where this person has exuded arrogance, sarcasm and spoke to me passive/aggressively as to posture himself and  I deduced that nothing I could say or do would change the outcome. So, I deleted my comments and unfriended him.  "that was that". Boundary set. Match.

While I felt confident in my action, I still have this innate need for validation (I'm a work in progress!) So I posted the following: "Why do grown adults feel it's necessary and acceptable to troll peoples news feeds only to start arguments or say negative and snotty things? I don't have space for that in my life.  I'm always up for healthy debate but not for invalid and cruel comments. Unfriended."  


Of course anytime we post something on facebook, we open ourselves up to debate, scrutiny, judgement and scorn. Subsequently a family debate ensued.  Emotions flared, bible verses quotes and statements made about abuse. 

  

Webster's dictionary defines abuse as:

1. to use wrongly or improperly; misuse: to abuse one's authority.

2. to treat in a harmful, injurious, or offensive way: to abuse a horse; to abuse one's eyesight.

3. to speak insultingly, harshly, and unjustly to or about; revile; malign.

4. to commit sexual assault upon.

5. obsolete. to deceive or mislead. 

I understand the volatile reactions to someone who's been abused, to see this verbal exchange as "not abusive". I really do.  I've been on the receiving end of comparisons and I've been on the giving end. Bottom line, our hurt is OUR hurt and no one has the right to minimize because they think what they endured was worse.  For anyone out there, friend or foe, immediate family or distant relative who's been subjected to abuse of ANY type, ANY kind, ANY amount.  I am sorry. What you went through was NOT ok.  You have value.  You have worth.  You are loved. 


Well, SO DO I!!!  

So,  I stand my ground.  I will not sit back and accept being talked down to, dismissed, or disregarded. I will not justify ill treatment.  Accepting abusive treatment is a slippery slope.  First we minimize the intentions, then we joke about the effects, then we defend the perpetrator. Before we know it we've gone from making excuses to drawing a line and then moving it for every infraction.  

I've heard all the excuses in my childhood: "he's mean to everyone", "he was just joking"...I will not tolerate them in my adulthood: "he was expressing his inner child", "he's immature", and on and on and on.

It begs the question: if we have to draw a line in the sand for unacceptable treatment, basically sacrificing our self worth while making compromises for the guilty party, is that a relationship even worth having?

My answer to that is no.  I wasn't put on this earth to be anyone's punching bag.  Verbally, emotionally, physically, sexually or mentally.  When Jesus commanded us to love one another and turn the other cheek, he didn't command that we also keep accepting this treatment.  In turning the other cheek, we simply aren't returning blow for blow.  We are disengaging.  

He then commanded us to forgive.  In order to forgive someone who hasn't changed their hurtful behavior or shown remorse I have to give them to God.  That is what I have done today.  With yet another family member.  They are in God's hands.  He can deal with him.  

I have more important things to do with my life than fight these pointless battles.  I have more self-growth to do because God isn't finished with me yet.  And I can't keep my heart and soul focused on what the Lord's purpose is for me if I'm constantly blindsided by unacceptable treatment from inconsequential people.  

(And when I say "inconsequential" people, I am not saying they are not of worth or value.  I'm stating that they clearly aren't adding any value or worth to my life but instead are taking away mine.)

I will not be devalued ever again.

I will surround myself with people that can bring as much encouragement, love and support to my life as I can to theirs. 

1 Corinthians 15:33 Do not be mislead, bad company corrupts good character. 

Proverbs 13:20 Walk with the wise and become wise, for a companion of fools suffers harm.

Proverbs 11:14 Where no counsel is the people fall; but in the multitude of counselors there is safety.

Proverbs 27:17 As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another.

Keep Making Me

I haven't blogged in a while.  Truth be told, I haven't written anything in quite some time.  Usually that is a sign of apathy and depression for me but instead I've been able to sit in the stillness of God's presence and just be. Trusting His Word to be true; that all things work together for good, for His purpose. {Romans 8:28} Holding onto that promise has given me the freedom to live.  Just live.  Through the ups, the downs, the good days and the bad.  This phase of healing has me feeling comfortable in my own skin.  Truly one day at a time IN the moment. 
It's wonderful.  

Yesterday I heard a song on the radio by Sidewalk Prophets. 

Keep Making Me.

Make me broken
So I can be healed
‘Cause I’m so calloused
And now I can’t feel
I want to run to You
With heart wide open
Make me broken

Make me empty
So I can be filled
‘Cause I’m still holding
Onto my will
And I’m completed
When you are with me
Make me empty

[Chorus:]
‘Til You are my one desire
‘Til You are my one true love
‘Til You are my breath, my everything
Lord, please keep making me

Make me lonely
So I can be Yours
‘Til I want no one
More than You, Lord
‘Cause in the darkness
I know You will hold me
Make me lonely

[Chorus

The lyrics are simple, yet profound and they resonated with me on such a deep and personal level that I was brought to tears. Then in a moment of clarity I felt my heart release it's hurt and forgive the two people I held responsible for my brokenness.  

They are responsible for their actions and words, but I alone am accountable for what I do with the hurt they have caused. I've chosen to give it to God to use for all His glory and continue making me. Because honestly, I'd much rather be where I am now than before.  
If it weren't for my brokenness, I wouldn't have sought His healing. 
If I weren't empty, it wouldn't be He who completes me and if I weren't lonely I wouldn't have turned to Him to hold and comfort me.  

The moment I knew in my heart I had forgiven them was when I realized how broken they must be to have caused the hurt and turned a blind eye to it.  I found myself praying for them to be in this same place of holy brokenness, begging God to use it to transform them as He is doing for me.  I was crying for them, not because of them.  I was wanting them to feel the healing I feel and come to this sacred place where He alone can make them whole just as he's making me.  I wasn't praying for our relationships to be restored, but for their relationship with God to be restored. 

That is forgiveness.  In all it's simplicity.  I felt God's love pouring through my very being, knowing that He loves them just as He loves me, of course He wants to forgive them just as He's forgiven me. 

Forgiveness isn't an act of absolution on my part for their transgressions, it's the realization that the One they've really sinned against is God; so it's the literal handing it over to Him to deal with. Forgiveness in all it's simplicity is releasing them to God's hands. 

Up until that precise moment, the act of forgiveness never felt "simple".  It felt like a choice that I couldn't force myself to make.  How could I choose to forgive people who haven't asked for forgiveness? How could I make a conscious choice to forgive people who haven't stopped the hurtful behavior that needs forgiving? How could I muster up the strength to consider forgiving the two people responsible for making me who I was when I hated who I'd become?   

As it turns out, I didn't have to choose to forgive them, I had to choose to trust my hurt to the Healer and He made it possible.  I had to believe His promises to be true and allow him to keep making me. 

God, your God will cut away the thick calluses on your heart and your children's hearts.  Freeing you to love God, your God with your whole heart and soul and live.  Really live.
Deuteronomy 30:6