An older post revisited.
"Promise me you'll always remember; you're braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem and smarter than you think." A.A.Milne - Christopher Robin to PoohI remember being really stoned. My eyes had gone all weird and I couldn't focus. I felt off balance, dizzy and separate from myself. Almost like I was on the outside looking in. I was having problems walking. I had no idea where I was, how I got there or how to get out and go home. I remember falling, crashing into a wall and hitting my head. Some old lady popped out and started screaming at me. I had no idea what she was saying. Then the sound of sirens and the ambulance....... Life was a constant crisis. Constant chaos.
I kept saying I wanted it all to stop. I wanted it to be normal. I didn't want to do the drugs. At least that's what I said and even as I said it, I was shooting up and ripping my arms open with razor blades and jagged rocks. Even as I said it, I threw up if I ate even a small bite of something. In my mind, I wasn't allowed to be free. I wasn't worthy. No amount of wanting or needing made a difference. No threats from any authority could bring about the freedom I said I wanted.
I needed to stay high. I needed to hurt myself. I needed to throw up. I needed to not feel or think. Especially to not think. The images of what happened tortured me. Anything to numb out from feeling the terror, the shame, the pain - I needed that more. And then God touched me. He broke through the torment in my head, in my soul - He took away the 14 year drug addiction. The memories though, the pain and shame and feelings of extreme worthlessness - they were still there. I continued to throw up and hurt myself. I still needed to numb out.
I felt guilty. I wondered if God would kill me because I was destroying myself. I screamed at Him to do it already. I dared Him to take my life, but He wouldn't. Years went by. I lived two lives. I looked ok. People thought I was fun, happy, Christian. I wasn't. When people said, God is in control, I knew my life was completely out of control.
I started writing. Then running. In the woods, alone - He whispered to me. 'Face the pain. Don't run from it.' I never wanted to face it. I never wanted to admit it. I couldn't. To admit it meant it happened. I didn't want to believe it happened. But it did.
All I know - God is my strength - my anchor for freedom. The one thing in my life that gives me the courage to do what I otherwise can't. He brought me to the point of being ready to confront what I never could. He allowed me to use the cutting, the throwing up, the hiding to stay alive. Cause that's what it did. It kept me alive. It helped me survive until I was ready to face what happened.
All I know -is in His presence, I feel at peace. In the woods I feel His gentle touch and hear His whispers of comfort and there I gain the courage to come home and not use things that hurt me.
I want to make a difference. I want what I lived to help someone else find their freedom. Maybe that's why God let me live.