Trust

"Two things scare me. The first is getting hurt. But that's not nearly as scary as the second, which is losing." Lance Armstrong
 
A friend hurt me. She hurt me really bad.She lied to me, told me things that weren't true - hooked me in emotionally - told me things that sounded right - told me what my heart wanted to believe. Another friend told me - don't trust what she's saying - I thought that friend was wrong; she didn't know her like I did. I thought I knew better.

I should have listened but I lived on her words - I trusted. Something in me needed to believe.

I teach my girls to listen to their gut - to trust their inner sense - to be in tune with that inner feeling of something being right or wrong in spite of what they physically see - I teach my kids - but I still can't figure it out all the time. I feel that check  - that hesitation, yet I move forward anyways.

Trust - not everyone is trustworthy. I want to believe they are.
Trust - when I lived on the street, when I fought through crazy situations I trusted people who hurt me - I wanted to believe they were honest - that their words were true. I wanted to believe that so badly I ignored that gut feeling as being nothing.  But when they hurt me, I hurt myself. Their lies cut deep - their actions stirred all the self-hatred - It caused me to lash out at myself - cutting, throwing up, shooting up. Their actions fueled my self-hatred -  intensifying it until it had a life of its own.

I had always thought it was me who was wrong, - I had always thought it was me who made them lie and hurt me. And I hated myself for trusting them, for believing the sweetness of their words......the kindness of their actions - never realizing there was a cost to pay.

I went running in the woods today - to release that build up of self-hatred - Then I reached out to that friend. I don't want to run. I really want to believe the best.....Misunderstandings - silence - forgiveness.

Restless

"Breathe. Let go. And remind yourself that this very moment is the only one you know you have for sure." Oprah Winfrey

I'm restless - a lot of the time. I have tons of energy. I need to move - and keep moving. When I'm sitting too long - my mind wanders. I feel fidgety. Edgy. There's a strong intense surge of energy that builds inside me - a push to get up, to move, to do something. I try to fight it - I tell myself - hang in - focus - stay still - chill.


My mind drifts - wanders. I want to experience more right at that moment - I want to do something - anything - except sit and listen and wait...... I feel this driving need pulling at me - to get up, run, move - create -


Sometimes I wonder if that restlessness is from all the times I was forced to be still, to be silent - to wait.
The many times I was locked in the car - alone - for hours. Crouching in the back on the floor - not moving - afraid - praying no one would notice me - 

The many times I was pinned to the bed - for hours.....feeling smothered, trapped, desperate to get up.

The many times I sat still - listening to tapes of the rapist tell how he was the savior for the world....for hours.

Confined by the hospital - in a small room or tied to a bed - feeling like an amimal caught in a trap - for hours.....

Restlessness - I feel it in every fibre of my being. It's a feeling of being trapped, confined, held back......

Restlessness - it doesn't let up. It builds until I'm forced to do something to seek relief....I used to hit up, throw up, cut. I won't do that anymore. Now I run or bike or swim or write. 

Restlessness - this strong intense inner agitation. An angst to move - to be free.


Being physically active works for me. There are days when it's raining, or so cold I can't go out. Once, last winter, I felt so agitated - I needed to run, or move or do something. My 13 year old held out her hands to me. Let's run mom. I looked at her. Huh? She smiled. Take my hands. Let's run, on the spot. We did. It was tons of fun. Now we do it all the time challenging each other to see who tires first.


My kids have no idea what I lived. I won't tell them - not now - but they are in tune with my needs. And God uses them to help me. I'm so thankful that today I am free to move - free to experience life - free to live. And I'm trying to channel this restless energy into something positive - like writing to give others hope - 

It doesn't matter anymore what happened to me - it matters more how I use what happened.....I'm determined to use it for something good.

Refusing Fear

"Fear is only as deep as the mind allows." Japanese Proverb
I drove to work this morning with the song, "  How can you say there is no God...  playing around in my head. All morning that tune played over and over  inside me. I felt like I could fly. By the time I left work, I had so much energy I needed some way to release it. I drove to the mountains where I love to run. The air, the smells, the sights - being in nature - made me feel even more pumped.

Before I had left work, a friend told me she's concerned I run alone in the woods. I hit the trails and started running. Her words popped into my head. I started to feel afraid - afraid to run in the place I love. I kept running through the isolated wooded trails, but I became aware of a growing sense of not being safe - of the possiblity someone evil was lurking behind the trees, on the trails, waiting - I felt that familiar sense of needing to brace my body, to be on guard, watching, attuned to every sound, every movement......It was too much. I was really afraid. I turned around and headed back to my car. I hate that as a female, we never feel really safe in the world.

Fear - I don't want to live being afraid. I don't want to be restricted in what I do or don't do just because I'm too afraid. I do that a lot. I'm still afraid to be seen. I still find it easier to talk in the darkness. I'm still afraid of people knowing the real me, how bad things had been - so I keep a distance - And I'm still afraid of being alone in the dark -
Fear - it has a life of its own. It drives, it pushes, it picks up steam the more I feed it with wild crazy thoughts from my imagination. 
Fear - it cripples, it stops me from living my best life, from doing the things I really want to do.  And it forces me to accept situations I don't want.
I never used to admit I was afraid. Instead I forced myself to be brave, to look fearless - by shoving needles in my arms, or throwing up or cutting myself. I never cried - instead I fought - mostly myself - to stay strong - to not show weakness - to not show fear.  


Fear - someone once told me it's the opposite of faith. I want to walk in faith - faith that I can do anything I want. Faith that has a positive strength to it. 
Faith that can stand up and speak and not be afraid. Faith that can look fear  head on and not back down.  
I know I need to be careful - to not put myself in crazy situations. Maybe running in the woods alone isn't so smart. I need to really think about that. Other fears - fears that control me - I want to challenge them and become freer. 

Secrets

"Secrets are made to be found out with time." Charles Sanford

Secrets - I kept so many of them. All the time. Never told anyone anything.
Secrets - I didn't think anyone would believe me. I didn't think I got it right. I thought I was making it up. And I thought it was no big deal. 
Secrets - they tore at me  - kept me living in shame - terrified to be seen - unable to look people in their eyes or worse have them look in mine. If they did, I knew they would see how bad, how horrible, how disgusting I was.
Secrets - they forced me to inflict pain on myself because I believed it was all my fault - everything that happened - everything they told me - I was bad - deserved it - worthless - garbage - I ran with those beliefs. Everytime I pushed a needle in my arm, everytime I puked my guts out - everytime I pulled jagged rocks up my arms until the blood oozed out and I could breathe - 
Secrets - the images danced in my brain forcing me to stay awake, terrified to sleep, terrified of the dark, of what could happen in the dark.....
Secrets - made me angry - angry at me. I hated me - everything about me. I tried to destroy myself because I knew they were right - I had no right to exist, no right to life -
Secrets -Finally I discovered I had believed Lies. Lies that kept me stuck. Lies that had sounded so much like the truth. Lies. Deception. 


It's taken me a long time to tell. To tell the truth. The truth of what they did to me. It wasn't my fault - 
Those 4 words it wasn't my fault helped me breathe again, helped me know it was wrong what happened - they had no right. How could I not know that before?


Last week, the radio was abuzz with talk about this loved teacher and Christian youth leader....charged by police for molesting two boys in a Christian camp. The day after he was charged, he commited suicide.
Secrets....
A friend came to me the other day, she's a nurse - told me she needs help - told me no one knows - told me she's  a Christian and an alcoholic - drinking 16 oz. of booze a day.

Secrets....
A good friend of mine found out her husband of twenty years was addicted to porn and had been having an online affair
Secrets....hidden. shameful....destructive
I don't want to live with secrets anymore. I am commited to telling what happened to me. Commited to saying the truth in the hopes someone else whose keeping secrets will tell.....will get help.....will find freedom.

Not Alone Anymore

"We need others. We need others to love and we need to be loved by them. There is no doubt that without it, we would cease to grow....." Leo F. Buscaglia
All that time, living on the streets, fighting to survive....alone....
Lonliness hurts. It hurts so bad. That pain - in your gut - constantly there - reminding you no one  cares  - driving your behaviour - forcing you to seek relief in things that create more hurt, more pain. Lonliness - it never left - its intense hold - its powerful grip - gnawing away inside...

Lonliness that causes a pain so intense - the only relief you can think of is death. I remember that pain...those years - an emptiness so deep....a gut wrenching despair - connected to no one - feeling utterly worthless - not good enough. No one to care if I ate, or slept, or was sick or cold or scared....
Lonliness....It hurt so bad - I wanted relief - I wanted it to end - that agonizing pain - to just go away. 

Lonliness - is a disease. It eats away at you - steals your life - leaves you feeling hopeless - always craving - desperate to be free of it.



When God touched me....He slowly filled that empty hole in my soul - that deep lonliness. He gave me friends, family - who cared...who believed in me....who challenged me to live my best life....But I fought them - pushed them away - It was so weird - what I wanted for so long, the thing I yearned for hurt more than the pain of not having it. 
     I had always dreamed it would feel so good but instead I felt this awful pain assoicated with people caring about me  - I put up walls....lots of walls. For a long time I 'knew' I wasn't worthy of their love, their care, their kindness. I thought if they really knew me they wouldn't stay - so I left and kept leaving.  
One day God whispered - Stay. Don't go. Push past the pain.  
Why did it have to hurt so much? I wanted to be belong so bad and yet I couldn't accept it for a long time. Even now , sometimes - I have to fight - to not pull away....to stay present.....To let people get close  - to let them stay.  
     I wonder how many people are really lonely - who know how to put on a front - a facade - know how to look good, but go home feeling lonely - empty - aching for someone to really care about them.......to be connected in a way that makes their life meaningful - filling the emptiness with excessive shopping, popping medications, working until they want to drop.......

     I never want to forget where I was.....how much it hurt.....I want my arm to always be extended....reaching out.....to make a difference and help others feel connected.

Stepping Out

"Take the first step in faith. You don't have to see the whole staircase, just take the first step." Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr

     This past week I've been worried. My book is in the hands of the editor. November 6th is the potential day for it to be printed. 
     I've been wondering - what am I doing putting this stuff out there for everyone to know. I think people will look at me differently when they find out where I've been - when they find out how awful and crazy I was. 

     Reading what I wrote - I feel sick - Overwhelmed. It's not like there was one thing. There's too much - too much crazy stuff......kidnapped, raped, drugs, eating disorder, cutting, the streets,.....
     I' ve been trying to share bits of what happened with some friends - trying to prepare them - to warn them - that I'm not what they see. I'm trying to take a step - to test the waters. 
    I try to convince myself it wasn't so bad. Then I look at what I wrote.....yeah it was crazy - really bad. I go back and forth like a ping pong ball wondering what the heck I"m doing writing this stuff and putting it out there.
     I watched this tv show - about a brother and sister. They looked like everyone else - normal. But they endured years of abuse - now they struggle to cope. No one could tell that everyday they fight overwhelming feelings of shame, fear and worthlessness. Looking at person you can't tell......

     The other day I noticed someone - really thin - way to thin - face gaunt - body frame skinny - emaciated. I glanced in her eyes - I saw that familiar emptiness and the shame. I wanted to grab her and tell her she has a right to live....a right to be safe....a right to be cared for. I wanted to point her to the One who can help her. But I just let her pass by. I went home and emailed my editor some cover samples for the book.  


     If what I wrote can help just one person find peace, find their way out of the darkness, away from that horrible emptiness.....then I'll risk people in my world thinking less of me.

     And I need to bridge what happened with who I am today. I don't want to live in shame anymore - hiding a secret - hiding huge parts of myself. I want to be free - totally free. I spend too much time hiding - worried what people would think if they knew the truth of where I came from. I don't want to do that anymore.

     I want to be free inside - I don't want to carry the shame anymore. And I want others to be free....
 
     Last night I did what I've been afraid to do. I told a group of women my story. I voiced it. I spoke. I said the words. The words that I've not been able to say outloud to anyone except a trusted friend. I couldn't stand up so they let me sit at a table and they closed the lights - I talked in the dark. But I did it. 
     People came to me after - told me pieces of their stories - told me what I shared touched them - told me they were amazed I survived....
     I think freedom is learning how to dance in spite of the fear. I'm going to keep taking risks - even though I'm afraid. Something pulls me to do it. A hunger to be free. A hunger for others to be free. I think it's happening.

    


  .

Speak up

"When we speak we are afraid our words will not be heard or welcomed. But when we are silent, we are still afraid. So it is better to speak." Audre Lorde 

     My older sister tells me things I've forgotten. She has told me I never talked as a kid. When someone asked me a question, I wouldn't answer - I would look to her. Relatives thought I was excessively shy. - Maybe some even thought something was wrong with me. 
     I didn't speak. I was too afraid. In school.....I never talked. When a teacher asked me a question - I didn't answer. I couldn't. One teacher told me I was the saddest child she had ever seen. 

     I don't remember being sad. I remember being angry. Very angry. Angry at me. Angry for being stupid - for not being able to talk - for not speaking - for not standing up for myself....Angry at me because I believed my parents were right....I was stupid, worthless, garbage. I failed in school. Everything. I lived in my own world - alone - lost - holding my breath - trying hard to be invisible....to not be seen.  


    I kept secrets. Lost of them. Secrets that hurt me and I would find out later, that also hurt others. I didn't believe I had the right to talk. If I tried to say something...I was told I didn't make any sense. 


    Being silent seemed easier...It wasn't. Silence crippled me - it made me feel different. It made me angry at me. - I held everything inside....then I took it all out on myself; shooting dope, throwing up, cutting myself.


     Over time I learned I need my words. I need them to express what I feel....what I need....what I want. Having my voice...being heard.... gives me a sense of freedom. But....
     ....it's easier for me to stand up for others than for myself. And I still wonder if what I think makes any sense. In a group I'm still afraid to say anything. When I do, the words seem far away...like they're not a part of me.  
      I want to speak....to tell the truth....to tell my story, to maybe make a difference in the life of someone else. 

     This week there was an article in the paper about a nineteen year old girl held in prison for minor acting out behaviours. She had a problem with hurting herself. The guards....the professionals decided to ignore her.....even when they watched her... in her cell, make a noose with a piece of clothing, place it around her throat and pull it tight. The officials said, Don't help her. Leave her alone. She died. Only nineteen. Why? Because someone felt her self-harm needed to be controlled and she needed to be taught a lesson.

That girl needed compassion....She needed understanding. I don't know if she was raped, molested, beaten.....Something was wrong for her to have wanted to hurt herself. And she didn't belong in prison. She hadn't hurt anyone. Just herself. Now she's dead. Why? 

     I remember the professionals who tried to control me. They ended up hurting me, not helping me. I want to speak. I want my voice to be heard.I want to speak out. Speak up. Make a difference.


     I'm working on finding my voice and speaking up. When I'm alone in the woods....when I hear Him whisper in my heart...encouraging me....I wonder if that's why He let me live...to tell.....

Giving up

"Our greatest weakness lies in giving up." Thmas Edison

I woke up feeling it - intense frustration - needing to run or do something. There was no time. My one daughter had to be rushed out the door - the other needed to get ready for the school bus. Lunches weren't made. And I was tired. Bad combination. 


The tension was building. I wanted to go running in the woods - or sit at the computer and write. I couldn't do either. No time. Rushing. It makes me crazy. Makes me want to fight - lash out - scream. I just needed the day to start slowly - I heard myself screaming in my head I can't do this. I just can't. I don't want to do this. 

And then .....I give up. 

Life started feeling hard. Too hard. I stopped caring. 

I hate when I feel like this - when I don't care - I can't seem to stop the downward slide. I needed to run - alone - in the woods - but I couldn't. It's been raining -

Everyday - for the past four days - it's rained. I need to be outside. I start feeling trapped - out of control. I'm aware of the fight inside to not turn on myself.


Finally - yesterday I went running in the woods - The ground was wet - muddy - slippery - I didn't care. I felt energized - the smells, the air, the deer - the gentle whisper of His spirit soothing.....


Feeling His presence - hearing His assurance that everything is ok. Outside - in nature I hear Him more than anywhere else. Being outside energizes me - makes me feel connected. 

All those years being locked up, held down, confined  - feeling like a caged animal - desperate to be free - Freedom - I crave it.


For today, it's ok again. For today, I feel free. For today, I won't give up. 

Homesickness

"The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned." Maya Angelou
I've always felt this agonizing ache inside me - an inner cry - I want to go home. I felt it - always there - intense - overpowering - a deep gut wrenching yearning - gnawing inside - I want to go home. I just want to go home. 

But I had no home. I had no family to go to. I was alone. On the streets. My mother dead - my older sister gone - left the city - left me alone. Just him. My father - raging - using me as a scapegoat for all his hurts and frustrations. After one vicious beating - I ran......
 I want to go home! I just want to go home!

I tried to dull its pain by being stoned - shooting dope - three, sometimes four times a day - throwing up - cutting myself. But even then - I still felt its tug - that emptiness - that aloneness - that nobody cared if I lived - or was hurt - or safe - or scared. 
Homesickness - that awful ache in my gut constantly reminding me I was completely alone. - Leaving me feeling lost - afraid - Telling me I was worthless - insignificant -  my existance meaningless. 
     I want to go home!   
It pushed me to live wild, on the edge, out of control - indifferent - not caring - daring life and God to kill me. 


This past summer we moved to a new place on the lakeshore in a beautiful community  - friendly neighbours - great surroundings - tons of wildlife. It's a long way from the streets, from not having any money or material things, from the fear of being stalked by sick crazy predators - and dancing around controlling professionals who all believed they had the answers for my life - medications, low income housing, welfare, pysch hospitals, ongoing lifetime therapy........


Somehow God cut through when nothing else could. He touched me - broke the chains - gave me a sense of FINALLY coming home.  


I'm not sure how He did it - but I do know - I'm home.  I feel it. That throbbing ache inside - gone. I'm not running alone anymore. I'm not afraid. And I'm with people - who love me - really love me - who care......


     I don't ever want to get so comfortable that I forget what it feels like to be homesick on the inside. I don't ever want to forget - I want my hand to always be extended - to reach out and help someone else find their way home.