In the midst of working on the forgiveness part of my abuse, the new memory came to the surface. I was sitting at dinner with my husband and son, and a picture of what had happened just hit me. I felt like, "Wow - this sucks, I am just eating dinner with my family and this has to happen right now?" The picture in my head pretty much rattled me and when my husband noticed something was wrong he asked if I was okay. I told him I had a memory and I obviously couldn't talk about it right then. When we got home I called my counselor and told her that the memory came. I asked her to pray for me, that I would have strength to face the new memory. I had class, so I packed up my books and headed off. All the way there, all I could think about was how young I really was and how much the new information sucked and how much more would there be. Would I ever be done with the memories? After class, I spoke with the instructor for awhile about what was going on. She offered me the hope that I just needed to keep putting one foot in front of the other and that the memories would eventually stop, just as the abuse had. There is a finite number of memories.
That night, as I was trying to sleep, I was crying over the loss I felt. The new memory showed me that the abuse started even earlier than I knew. The picture I had was when I was still in a crib. Knowing my family, I was probably still sleeping in a crib at an older age than many children do, but it was still really young. Probably two or three. As I was crying, another picture came to me that was worse than the one I had at dinner. My heart broke for the little girl lying in the crib. The little girl that had no safety or protection or love. The little girl that knew nothing other than abuse from her very earliest memories. No wonder why I identify myself with the statement, I am abuse. I knew nothing else.
The next day at work was super hard, as I didn't get any sleep and I had these pictures floating around inside my head. I probably should have called off and just given myself time to grieve, and to be sick over what I learned. Although the memory was horrific, it didn't send me into a spin. I just spent a lot of time in prayer and trying to find out what God wanted me to do with this new memory. I think realizing that was where my identification came from was huge. Now that my head is wrapped around that, I think that I will be able to change those old tapes and start identifying myself as the person God created me to be.
At my counseling session, we talked about the new memory and how I felt like it tied so much of my self concept to the reality of what I experienced. It allowed me to show grace toward myself. When I talked about how scary it was to not know how much more there would be to remember, my counselor said to me, "It is not one more thing to deal with, it is one less thing." Wow! That is so true. There is one less thing to haunt my dreams, one less thing to have body memories over, one less thing I don't know about. That was a really freeing statement for me. I am on the path toward healing and freedom from the abuse and now I have one less thing to deal with. I believe that God gave her those words for me. He knew what I needed to hear. Since I am a task oriented person, and at times the list can be overwhelming, God knew that one less thing on my list was what I needed to internalize. So thank you God that I now have one less thing...
Saturday, November 24, 2007
Monday, November 19, 2007
The Road to Forgiving
Forgiveness is such a hard term to understand, to wrap our heads around. At least for me. If someone hurts my feelings, then just tell them, I forgive you. But for the big things in my life, not so easy...
It seems that everything around me lately has had to do with forgiveness. My class, the teachings at church, even my online devotional this morning. Funny how it works that way, huh? About a month ago, God showed me that the reason my bitterness, anger, hurt, pain - all of the yucky stuff - keeps coming back about my father is because I offered him blanket forgiveness. I would say to God, I forgive my dad for abusing me. That is not enough. I need to be specific. Ouch. That was right in the middle of feeling like new memories were coming. All of the sermons and things about forgiveness have just reinforced that is what I need to do. So I made an appointment with my counselor to talk about the new memories and since I didn't have anything concrete yet, just body memories, I decided it would be good to have someone walk me through the forgiveness process. The first thing I did was to make a four-page list of all of the things I needed to forgive him for. The list was very specific and it was HARD to write all that stuff down. I tried to write down things that affected me then, like he stole my childhood, to things that affect me now, like it is hard for me to have relationships. I am sure there is more that will go on that list, but it is pretty overwhelming already. I had been praying about the list and about forgiving my father for the specifics. When I got into my counseling session, I read my list to her. Just reading the things made me cry with the enormity of what he did to me. My mother's unintentional complicity in the whole thing is wrapped up in there somewhere as well, but that is way to much to deal with right now. Anyway, after I read the list, she asked me which one I wanted to work on today. I felt God telling me all week it had to be the tree house. As I looked at that particular item on my list, I seized up. I looked at her and said, I can't do this. I think that surprised me. I was full on intending to forgive my father. I know it is not how I feel, but an act of obedience to what I know is right.
She asked me what was stopping me, what was getting in the way. We talked for a few minutes and then I uttered words I had never given voice to, I am abuse. Wow, where did that come from? Both of us sat back in our chairs and took a breath. That was a huge statement and I think we both realized the impact of it as soon as I said it.
The question I have been wrestling with since then is who am I inside, inside where God fearfully and wonderfully created me? Since the abuse started so early in my life, and my whole identity was formed in that environment, is there someone inside of me that is longing to come out, but does not know how? Or will I be the same me, with the same empathy for people, the same curiosity about life, the same insatiable desire to learn? Will I still be me? Who is in there, underneath the abuse? I know it may sound crazy, but my whole life has been spent hiding from the effects of the abuse and not letting people see the real me. Now that I have started to show myself honestly to some people, and they don't run in horror, it may be easier to find that person inside. Sometimes, I feel very young and vulnerable. Other times, I feel confident enough to face the day. I wonder if that little child got stuck and when in unfamiliar situations she comes out? I wonder if I will like who is deep inside, the person who is not identified by abuse? It is a scary thing to me. I do know that it was a huge breakthrough and even though it sucks right now, the other side will be better. I know that I will find freedom from my demons. I don't know what freedom will look like, taste like, smell like, sound like, or feel like... but I know that is what God wants for me and I know it will be better than living in unforgiveness.
So for now, I deal with the fact that I identify myself as abuse instead of the child God created for a purpose. I work on the unforgiveness I hold on to. I trust God to help me find myself, the self He created. And I reach out to those that have chosen to walk the road with me when I am drowning and I need help.
It seems that everything around me lately has had to do with forgiveness. My class, the teachings at church, even my online devotional this morning. Funny how it works that way, huh? About a month ago, God showed me that the reason my bitterness, anger, hurt, pain - all of the yucky stuff - keeps coming back about my father is because I offered him blanket forgiveness. I would say to God, I forgive my dad for abusing me. That is not enough. I need to be specific. Ouch. That was right in the middle of feeling like new memories were coming. All of the sermons and things about forgiveness have just reinforced that is what I need to do. So I made an appointment with my counselor to talk about the new memories and since I didn't have anything concrete yet, just body memories, I decided it would be good to have someone walk me through the forgiveness process. The first thing I did was to make a four-page list of all of the things I needed to forgive him for. The list was very specific and it was HARD to write all that stuff down. I tried to write down things that affected me then, like he stole my childhood, to things that affect me now, like it is hard for me to have relationships. I am sure there is more that will go on that list, but it is pretty overwhelming already. I had been praying about the list and about forgiving my father for the specifics. When I got into my counseling session, I read my list to her. Just reading the things made me cry with the enormity of what he did to me. My mother's unintentional complicity in the whole thing is wrapped up in there somewhere as well, but that is way to much to deal with right now. Anyway, after I read the list, she asked me which one I wanted to work on today. I felt God telling me all week it had to be the tree house. As I looked at that particular item on my list, I seized up. I looked at her and said, I can't do this. I think that surprised me. I was full on intending to forgive my father. I know it is not how I feel, but an act of obedience to what I know is right.
She asked me what was stopping me, what was getting in the way. We talked for a few minutes and then I uttered words I had never given voice to, I am abuse. Wow, where did that come from? Both of us sat back in our chairs and took a breath. That was a huge statement and I think we both realized the impact of it as soon as I said it.
The question I have been wrestling with since then is who am I inside, inside where God fearfully and wonderfully created me? Since the abuse started so early in my life, and my whole identity was formed in that environment, is there someone inside of me that is longing to come out, but does not know how? Or will I be the same me, with the same empathy for people, the same curiosity about life, the same insatiable desire to learn? Will I still be me? Who is in there, underneath the abuse? I know it may sound crazy, but my whole life has been spent hiding from the effects of the abuse and not letting people see the real me. Now that I have started to show myself honestly to some people, and they don't run in horror, it may be easier to find that person inside. Sometimes, I feel very young and vulnerable. Other times, I feel confident enough to face the day. I wonder if that little child got stuck and when in unfamiliar situations she comes out? I wonder if I will like who is deep inside, the person who is not identified by abuse? It is a scary thing to me. I do know that it was a huge breakthrough and even though it sucks right now, the other side will be better. I know that I will find freedom from my demons. I don't know what freedom will look like, taste like, smell like, sound like, or feel like... but I know that is what God wants for me and I know it will be better than living in unforgiveness.
So for now, I deal with the fact that I identify myself as abuse instead of the child God created for a purpose. I work on the unforgiveness I hold on to. I trust God to help me find myself, the self He created. And I reach out to those that have chosen to walk the road with me when I am drowning and I need help.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Home at last
I got home from Philadelphia late Saturday night. I slept until 9 on Sunday, which is very late for me. I even took a short nap later in the day. I am still exhausted! Leaving your normal routine is hard. It is fun for a vacation - when you are going with family or friends to see new things - but when going by oneself - well it is difficult, at least for me. I don't know how people travel all the time for work. That certainly would not be a job I would enjoy.
Anyway, I am glad I went. I attended the Journalism Education Association conference and I learned so much. I went to classes all morning on Friday, then took the afternoon off and walked around the historic area. I got to see the Liberty Bell, Independence Hall - although they were out of tickets and I couldn't see inside, and the National Constitution Center. I am really glad I sucked up my fear of doing things alone and went to see all those things. I don't know if I will ever get back, so it was a great opportunity. The National Constitution Center was awesome. The presentation brought tears to my eyes and once again made me glad to be an American and to live in this awesome country. On Friday night, I helped to judge the write off contest. I was specifically judging yearbook theme pages. It was really fun and I learned so much. On Saturday, I went to more classes and then a luncheon, where I received my Certified Journalism Educator Certificate and pin. That was awesome. It was cool to be recognized for all of my hard work over the last 3 1/2 years. Then it was off to the airport to head home.
All in all, it was a good trip and I am very glad I got the opportunity to go. Now I have to plan for the Spring convention in Anaheim - but this time with kids. I am thinking about teaching a class while there. I think it would be fun. And I am definitely going to put my kids into the write-off contest now that I know what it is all about. I will be going over the things I learned for the next several weeks and incorporating them into my classes. Sometimes I think the kids hate when I go to convention because they like the status quo. But I like mixing it up.
On another note, yesterday was a my first really stressful day at work this year. Seeing as it is already the middle of November, that was pretty good. It is all because I have been giving every day to God. I don't work for my district anymore. I work for God, and to quote Frost, that has made all the difference.
Anyway, I am glad I went. I attended the Journalism Education Association conference and I learned so much. I went to classes all morning on Friday, then took the afternoon off and walked around the historic area. I got to see the Liberty Bell, Independence Hall - although they were out of tickets and I couldn't see inside, and the National Constitution Center. I am really glad I sucked up my fear of doing things alone and went to see all those things. I don't know if I will ever get back, so it was a great opportunity. The National Constitution Center was awesome. The presentation brought tears to my eyes and once again made me glad to be an American and to live in this awesome country. On Friday night, I helped to judge the write off contest. I was specifically judging yearbook theme pages. It was really fun and I learned so much. On Saturday, I went to more classes and then a luncheon, where I received my Certified Journalism Educator Certificate and pin. That was awesome. It was cool to be recognized for all of my hard work over the last 3 1/2 years. Then it was off to the airport to head home.
All in all, it was a good trip and I am very glad I got the opportunity to go. Now I have to plan for the Spring convention in Anaheim - but this time with kids. I am thinking about teaching a class while there. I think it would be fun. And I am definitely going to put my kids into the write-off contest now that I know what it is all about. I will be going over the things I learned for the next several weeks and incorporating them into my classes. Sometimes I think the kids hate when I go to convention because they like the status quo. But I like mixing it up.
On another note, yesterday was a my first really stressful day at work this year. Seeing as it is already the middle of November, that was pretty good. It is all because I have been giving every day to God. I don't work for my district anymore. I work for God, and to quote Frost, that has made all the difference.
Monday, November 5, 2007
Traveling
Wow, it has been awhile since I have written. It has been a crazy few weeks. My husband was out of town, then last week, I was out of town, and I am going to be leaving again on Thursday. I will be glad to be home for good and not have to travel anymore for awhile.
I had the opportunity to go to Bellevue, WA for an Adobe CS3 training. We covered four programs in three days! It was a lot of information and I am still unpacking everything I learned. I got some really good tips for my classroom and I am exited by some of the new features and shortcuts available with the new Suite. Anything that makes my job easier is definitely appreciated. I am going to Philadelphia this week to receive a certification I earned at the end of last year. I am glad my boss is letting me go to pick it up in person because it tells me he recognizes how hard I worked for this certification and that it is important.
I like to travel, see new places, experience different environments. I just don't like to fly. It is all about the lack of control, basically from the moment you walk in the airport. First you have to get half undressed to get through security. Sometimes it is quick, other times you worry you will miss your plane. Once on the plane, you have no say of who sits by you, or more importantly, who is flying the darn thing! I used to love to fly when I was young, but the older I get, the more nervous it makes me. I was pretty scared to go to WA because it was the first time since I was a teen that I would be flying all by myself, getting to my hotel, and being completely on my own for four days. The plane was a prop plane which kind of freaked me out. I started to get really freaked out once the engine started - one at a time... I prayed and asked for peace. God answered my prayer immediately. I felt a calmness come over me that stayed with me for the rest of the trip, even through the turbulence due to stormy skies. So I was prepared for a peaceful ride home. I had my book ready. I had my Zune all charged up. (By the way, we just bought the Zune and I LOVE it! It is really user friendly and has tons of room for music.) The waiting area was really crowded and I knew it would be a full flight. I had a seat to myself on the way there. Well, I got settled in my seat and this man is walking down the aisle. I was thinking, Oh no, please not here. Sure enough, he is right next to me. He really needed to buy two seats. Now this is a small plane. The seats are small and close together. I am by the window, trying to make myself smaller as he is shoving himself into the seat next to me. He asks the stewardess for a seat belt extender. Don't you think if you need a seat belt extender that you need to buy two seats? I look around and see if there are any free seats anywhere. Not a one. So he finally gets settled and I squish over to the side. Every time I get a fraction of an inch between my leg and his, his flab squishes over into my seat. I was miserable. I felt like I suffocating. I wanted to scream. His huge body cramming into my little space brought back feelings from my past. I just tried to listen to my music and tune him out as best I could. It is really hard to tune out someone touching you though. When I got off the plane I just let my husband hold me for awhile. I really wanted to cry, I was so stressed by the situation. After I got a little distance, as in a few days away from the situation, I wondered if I could have been different. I judged him straight off the bat, I was disgusted and then overwhelmed by his physical presence, I just tried to curl up inside of myself and get as far away from him as I could. Not very Christ like was it? But in the moment, it seemed to be all I could do. I also feel like he could have scooted more to his side. I think he either didn't care, or he did it purposely. Yuck.
Anyway, I hope for a better flight on Thursday - one where I am not squished in my seat by some fat man that has no manners. I know some people use plane flights as a way to witness to whomever sits next to them. I just hope I am calm and don't have to sit next to anyone creepy. Sometimes I think I have a long way to go. I need to remember that it about the journey, not the destination. I have come a long way to be able to travel on a plane to a strange city by myself. Well, not by myself really, since I am never alone. So, I will take the next trip one step at a time and hope for the best.
I had the opportunity to go to Bellevue, WA for an Adobe CS3 training. We covered four programs in three days! It was a lot of information and I am still unpacking everything I learned. I got some really good tips for my classroom and I am exited by some of the new features and shortcuts available with the new Suite. Anything that makes my job easier is definitely appreciated. I am going to Philadelphia this week to receive a certification I earned at the end of last year. I am glad my boss is letting me go to pick it up in person because it tells me he recognizes how hard I worked for this certification and that it is important.
I like to travel, see new places, experience different environments. I just don't like to fly. It is all about the lack of control, basically from the moment you walk in the airport. First you have to get half undressed to get through security. Sometimes it is quick, other times you worry you will miss your plane. Once on the plane, you have no say of who sits by you, or more importantly, who is flying the darn thing! I used to love to fly when I was young, but the older I get, the more nervous it makes me. I was pretty scared to go to WA because it was the first time since I was a teen that I would be flying all by myself, getting to my hotel, and being completely on my own for four days. The plane was a prop plane which kind of freaked me out. I started to get really freaked out once the engine started - one at a time... I prayed and asked for peace. God answered my prayer immediately. I felt a calmness come over me that stayed with me for the rest of the trip, even through the turbulence due to stormy skies. So I was prepared for a peaceful ride home. I had my book ready. I had my Zune all charged up. (By the way, we just bought the Zune and I LOVE it! It is really user friendly and has tons of room for music.) The waiting area was really crowded and I knew it would be a full flight. I had a seat to myself on the way there. Well, I got settled in my seat and this man is walking down the aisle. I was thinking, Oh no, please not here. Sure enough, he is right next to me. He really needed to buy two seats. Now this is a small plane. The seats are small and close together. I am by the window, trying to make myself smaller as he is shoving himself into the seat next to me. He asks the stewardess for a seat belt extender. Don't you think if you need a seat belt extender that you need to buy two seats? I look around and see if there are any free seats anywhere. Not a one. So he finally gets settled and I squish over to the side. Every time I get a fraction of an inch between my leg and his, his flab squishes over into my seat. I was miserable. I felt like I suffocating. I wanted to scream. His huge body cramming into my little space brought back feelings from my past. I just tried to listen to my music and tune him out as best I could. It is really hard to tune out someone touching you though. When I got off the plane I just let my husband hold me for awhile. I really wanted to cry, I was so stressed by the situation. After I got a little distance, as in a few days away from the situation, I wondered if I could have been different. I judged him straight off the bat, I was disgusted and then overwhelmed by his physical presence, I just tried to curl up inside of myself and get as far away from him as I could. Not very Christ like was it? But in the moment, it seemed to be all I could do. I also feel like he could have scooted more to his side. I think he either didn't care, or he did it purposely. Yuck.
Anyway, I hope for a better flight on Thursday - one where I am not squished in my seat by some fat man that has no manners. I know some people use plane flights as a way to witness to whomever sits next to them. I just hope I am calm and don't have to sit next to anyone creepy. Sometimes I think I have a long way to go. I need to remember that it about the journey, not the destination. I have come a long way to be able to travel on a plane to a strange city by myself. Well, not by myself really, since I am never alone. So, I will take the next trip one step at a time and hope for the best.
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