I have two new posts coming today, but I'd like to start with this one. Therapy was hard for me yesterday. There is so much confusion and conflict in my head right now. I hate it. I just want it all to go away. I want to curl up in my bed with my ear buds in and just disappear into the music. I am a big music person. I like all kinds of different music, I am very eclectic. But I also like to listen to music that really speaks to me. My favorite band is Evanescence. I feel like sometimes I have a connection with Amy Lee Hartzler. (Don't worry, I'm not a psycho stalker, it's just fangirlism). I don't think there is a song they've written that I can't identify with in some way. I feel emotion welling up in my chest just writing about it. Why am I writing about my music, you ask? Well, that isn't what this blog is about, I just happen to have one of their songs playing right now, and I'm a nerd. :) I also really like a lot of stuff from Europe. I'm a huge symphonic metal fan, thanks to 'S', who never thought she would convert me. I love Nightwish, Within Temptation, and Sonata Arctica, just to name a few. I like music that speaks to me, and theirs most certainly does. Anyhow.
I digress. Therapy. Ah, yes. Conflict. Uh huh. I hate my head. I can't even focus enough to get all of this out of my head. I'll start by saying I don't like who I am. I feel as though I have been cultivated into who I am, and it isn't who I was supposed to be. He has been in my thoughts a lot lately. I hurt. I want God to come back and get us right now. I would love that. I don't want to live this life of hurt any longer. I don't want to think about dying every day. But I do. I don't want to remember every day. But I do. I feel very broken, very shattered and raw. Every thought I have leads me back to my childhood somehow, and the more I think about that, the angrier and more broken I become. There is so much shame and guilt tied in to all of those memories, on top of the hurt that comes along with it. My therapist said yesterday that I hold on to the guilt and shame because admitting that I was completely helpless and that there was nothing I could have done differently is worse. She's absolutely right. I don't want to think about that. It makes me panic barely thinking about it, I couldn't imagine diving deep into it. But I was helpless. And that's a very sad thought.
I've become this very self destructive person. Do you have any idea how hard it is to be a Christian and have all of these self destructive tendencies? I know at least one of you does. It sucks. Plain and simple. I want to do all of the right things. I want to be the person God wants me to be. On Sunday in our class our preacher pointed something out to us. Phil 4:6 says to be anxious in nothing. He said that in the original language, that word anxious means to have a divided mind. He said the division is basically comes because you're thinking on earthly things and not heavenly things. Or something like that. I can't really get it out right. Anyhow, all I could think was 'THAT'S ME!' But it's not necessarily like that, like I'm thinking about earthly things. For me, it's the self destruction. I want to be a good Christian, my spirit wants God, and nothing more. But I can't get past all the hurt, or something. I know none of this makes any sense at all. It makes sense in my head. It really does. I'm not a total raving lunatic, I promise. But I find that I'm slipping back into my self destructive habits. Like not eating right. I'm a weird person. I drink only water because I hate water. So if you see me drinking water of my own volition, rest assured it's a control thing. It's something I can control. I don't eat, bc I can. I mean, obviously I eat, as I'm still alive, but I skip a meal here or there, because I can. I am in no way condoning any of this. I know it isn't healthy. Please, don't look up to me, I am no one's good example. I'm just trying to get some things out of my head. I hurt. I hurt and I can't even accept that. I rationalize it all away. 'It wasn't that bad'. 'You're just an attention seeker'. 'You're not really that depressed because if you were you would have ended it by now' and on and on. My brain is my worst enemy, I can promise you that. It's a very hard thing to deal with. I also have major guilt trips over my depression. If I stay in bed, or I don't clean my house, or do the things that I need to, I degrade myself in my head. My therapist told me yesterday that I needed to get to a place where I could realize that it's okay to be as messed up as I need to be. No questions asked. No explanations. If I need to lay in bed and not speak to anyone for a while, so be it. I need to stop trying to keep everyone happy. I also minimize my pain, saying 'if I didn't hurt like this when it was actually happening, then why is it such a big deal now?' That's one of the reasons I am so self destructive. There is so much hurt, but I'm so far removed from the actual abuse (in time and space) that the pain seems imagined. Like there is no real reason for the pain, and I need to cause a reason to validate the pain. I just want all of this to go away. I don't like this life. At all.
Sigh, now I have to run back to real life and start dinner. Sorry about all of these ramblings.
I'm a wife. I'm a mom. I'm a photographer. I'm a lover of Jesus. My house is a mess, my kids are dirty, we eat take out more often than not. My life is loud, busy and crazy. And that's okay with me.
This is Eric, the man you've been praying for. He's a paramedic. He quilts in his spare time. No, I couldn't make that up :) He has NASH (a form of liver disease, non-alcoholic) and diabetes, but those things don't define him. He's a man of God, an insanely wonderful husband, and the best daddy in the world.. Just ask these guys..
Our daughter Ali, she's 9. She's fiercely opinionated and strong willed. She's a Daddy's girl, but the umbilical cord hasn't but cut from me, either. She's a gymnast, and proud of it. She spends more time upside down or turning flips than she does walking. She's crazy smart, and absolutely sure of it. She is my insufferable little know it all.
Our son Dylan, 7. We lovingly refer to him as Chubs. Or Chubby. Or fat boy. Ahem. He is all boy, as you can see by his crazy wild energy. He has the highest pain tolerance of any child I have ever met. He plays soccer and does gymnastics, but truly he is a gamer, a nerd. He is an avid reader and loves to climb. Not to be outdone by his sister, he's a drama king, but to him, I'm the best mommy in the world.
I'm here to use my voice. So many people can't. In a world of darkness, I just want to help God's light to shine through. I pray that my words are His, and my love is His, as well. This is my journey through the darkness. To start are the beginning of the story, click here.