My Diagnosis

I went to the doctor today and filled out a whole bunch of paperwork about my symptoms. Since I have never gotten help before- I had no idea what to expect. I arrived early to fill out the paperwork. My husband was by my side and so supportive, I knew I was safe, but I still couldn’t help the tightness in my throat. My hands were fidgety, my chest was tight and my eyes were shifty.

Finally, my name was called. I followed the woman to get my blood pressure taken, my weight (yay) and then followed her down a hallway. I hate hallways. It had a lot of doors too which is so stressful. I half expected someone to jump out at me. No one did though.

I sat down in her office and she began the hour long process of asking me questions. Normally I do not mind questions about my life- but these questions were the questions I always try and avoid. I immediately began to feel my air get cold in my throat, my hands wouldn’t stop moving and I kept holding my breath.

We went through all the paperwork and questions at a nice pace. It wasn’t too overwhelming. Once she was done entering all my answers into the computer- she called for the doctor to come see me.

He came in and was very friendly. He got right to the point and even printed out my medications that I will have to take from now on. I had no idea what I had been diagnosed with. I didn’t know if I would be at all. I had my guesses but I wasn’t exactly sure. I thought I would get just an occasional dose of meds for when my panic attacks were really bad.

Nope. I have 2 different medications to take daily and then another one for when my anxiety really spikes. Thankfully when we filled them, all 3 only totaled up to under $10. I really hope they work. I won’t say what they are just because I don’t want to.

The doctor said I am suffering from PTSD, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Moderate Major Depression because of the PTSD and I have General Anxiety Disorder because of the PTSD too. I wasn’t expecting Depression. I mean I know when I feel down or sad I “feel depressed” but major depression. Wow. Now I kinda know how Robin Williams felt. You can hide depression and most people are shocked to find out that you have it because you “seem happy”.

My chest and throat are still so tight and I notice I hold my breath a lot. I don’t know why but I always do. My therapist said I have PTSD but it is nice to have it on paper and Doctor diagnosed that in fact I do suffer from these 3 things.

It is really hard to open up about this face to face with someone, a friend, or a family member because I don’t look hurt. If I had a broken arm or foot, people would better understand. I really hope this works and my PTSD won’t be so bad.

Hip Popping Syndrome Caused by Physical Abuse as a Child?

Have you heard of Hip Popping Syndrome? Maybe you have it and never knew it was a syndrome like I did. I literally have had it, (a popping, snapping, sometimes painful tendon grinding against my hip bone on both sides) ever since I can remember. AND ever since I can remember my mother made me run on the treadmill  every morning at 5 am because she wanted me to.

I have done a little research on this and I am so mad beyond type-able words. It is said that YOUNG athletes can develop this, along with repetitive vigorous exercise and girls/women are more prone to develop it.

But anyways back to the story. I recently met with my Pastor and I now have uncovered a true HATE for my mother. If you follow my blog and have read some of my stories, this is just another one to add to bucket of how she failed me as a mother.

She used to be fat in school. She had these huge thighs and she still does, very pear shape. So she would make ME run on the treadmill at least 1 mile under a certain time period. I would have to write my time on the calendar for her to approve. If I didn’t get up in time, didn’t go the distance, went past the time, or held onto the handle bars- I would get into trouble. Like not be able to go to school, or have to run more, kinda trouble.

A bitch with issues will be her name now. GEEZ! I am so sick and tired of finding out and realizing all the shit she did to me. And the best part is (not really), I can’t talk to anyone about it on that side or even to her because they all don’t believe it. I say the words I need to say to get over it. I can’t express my emotions, I can’t tell her I hate her, I can’t yell and scream at her because she wants nothing to do with me.

Maybe I was born with hip popping- I don’t know. But I can guarantee you- her abuse didn’t make it any better. I have so much anger with her. Like I said I met with my Pastor a couple weeks ago and he talked to me about forgiveness to let myself rest.

I want to forgive and move on and not be chained to the past anymore but it is kinda hard when “the bitch with issues” has caused me so much pain, mentally, physically, emotionally and sexually.

Can I sue her? lol

How To Get Rid of Insecurity, Fear, Doubt & Worry

This answer is easy. Give it to Christ. Jesus Christ.

I become insecure because I feel ignored, under-appreciated and I can’t control the future. Fear sinks in because of my insecurity and lack of control I have over my life. I doubt because I have serious trust issues. I always “do it myself” because I don’t trust others to do it the “right way”. I worry because I don’t have faith that things will work out according to “my plan”.

When you turn everything over to Christ, your life, your worries, your happiness- that hole inside your heart is rushed with peace and comfort. For me it worked instantly. Once I started focusing on how much Jesus loves me- I didn’t and don’t feel so insignificant.

Fear is a deep dark thing and when you invite light that shines into fear- your worries become clearer. My worries are that life isn’t going to go the way we planned. I doubt because I wasn’t trusting Jesus. Jesus Christ never breaks a promise to those who love, trust, obey and serve Him. His plan is and will ALWAYS better than anything I can come up with. I can’t control the future- He can.

For example, we have been waiting 4/5 years to get into a school. This has what happened in those 4/5 years:

Year 1: My job was horrible. It paid the bills but I eventually had to leave because the boss was stealing money from me and the company. I worked there almost a year and turns out after I left that store was shut down. I would of been out of a full time job.

Our marriage was rocky for the first couple of years. He was still finishing up school and I was trying to get used to the fact the weight of providing was on my shoulders.

Year 2: I tried starting my own business selling Mary Kay. It wasn’t stable enough and created some problems with my marriage. I was pressured to keep getting inventory and that was using up our extra cash. I had a dream I would go far but the reality was it just wasn’t working out. Plus my Director (who I love) also stepped out of Mary Kay. That meant I was to be switched to a different unit where I did NOT like the other Director and it was farther away.

I would have not of been able to provide for him, for us, on that income.

Year 3: We moved a couple hours away to be closer to a school he was applying to. I had gotten a job as an Assistant Store Manager. That store was dreadful! We were written up for any theft that happened in the store from customers (because we were supposed to be able to stop them). The boss was so back stabbing. Plus we were scaled on sales (but didn’t get commission) and if you didn’t make it for 4 months straight- you were fired.

My jobs were so inconsistent- I wouldn’t of been able to stably provide.

Year 4: I got a dream job working at a Vet’s Office. I loved it and would of worked their happily for years. But I only stayed 11 months. The office manager (who hired me) left and hired another girl (who has never been a manager) to take her place. At first it was fine. Over time, that place was so busy though they didn’t have time to properly train me. I learned as I went. It was challenging. I had to restrain the animals for the doctor so they didn’t get bit.

During this time I was having so much pain internally I would have to miss work. I wouldn’t know what was going on. I would be fine one day and then the next I wouldn’t be able to walk. I went to a doctor and turns out I needed surgery.

I have Endometriosis. It’s a female condition and if it is left untreated it would have sterilized me from having children. I had to have 3 procedures done at the same time to “clear” me from everything. I had to be put on a certain birth control that minimizes the growth. It is an incurable disease that always grows back but for right now I am okay.

That surgery cost a pretty penny. Our insurance took care of most of it but our deductible was $5000. We were able to pay it off in just under a year and STILL making school payments (for his undergrad).

I would not of been able to support my husband through his extensive 2 year schooling when I needed surgery and in was in so much pain. We would of drown in debt.

Year 5: (Our current year) I am working a stable job where I am hoping to climb the ladder. And also I got hired in at just the right time to be able to transfer to a different state if need be. He also got out of CNA, which he hated, and is working at a job he loves and it pays very well.

Ever since I was 16 I have had the same car. It has been 10 years. Over the past couple years I have become more suicidal, depressed and anxious. I was sexually assaulted in that car and it always breaks down or needs something done.

One morning the pain was just too much to bare and I called a hotline. The lady I spoke to was actually near my area and provided free counseling to trauma victims. I started going. At first it was so hard to open up about it. But now I am so much healthier, my relationships are better and we were able to sell the car! 😀

I have a newer car that is better on gas, has cruise control, sun roof, 5 years newer and she is so cute! I love my new car. We were able to pay for her in cash. NO DEBT! 🙂
SO this car is able to travel distances if we have to move and won’t break down. Everything works just perfectly. Plus it is the same make and model as my husband’s car so the maintenance is easy. We just have to buy double. Another blessing is that my insurance was only raised $1.

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That is just to give you examples of how Christ’s plan is better. If hubby would of been accepted into school the first year we were waiting- I wouldn’t have a job. I would eventually have so much pain from the Endometriosis- I would have to have surgery. My car would break down. I would resent him for having the responsibility put on all my shoulders. No money saved up. I would be depressed, harming myself and still having nightmares from the sexual assault. Plus my relationships with friends, family, authority figures, strangers and women would all be “unfixed”.

I wouldn’t be healthy, happy, free of debt, worry or pain. God is good.

Is An Abusive Home Always Abusive?

I have been secretly asking myself this question. It dawned on me that just because my relationship with my “mother” is abusive, manipulative, emotionally distant, liar, actress, condescending, negative, self seeking can those tendencies still remain there in that house? As you know, if you read my blog, I have little sisters that live in that same house.

I can’t do anything about it. I am cut off from that family and have been for years. I just now have made it my choice to be cut off and no contact. My home life with my mother was horrible. It was so forceful, yelling, screaming, silent treatments, punishment through many different ways, I was a hit a few times out of her anger when I was littler. I saw my sisters get so hits during one “spanking” I had to look away.

But my sisters- I can’t tell you what they truly think. They aren’t allowed to contact anyone and if they do she is right there. They are also home-schooled. I know homeschooling in itself isn’t bad but I do feel it needs to be regulated or at least checked in on from time to time. That is my personal opinion.

After CPS was called on for me, or at least my school checked in, (on my home life after I told a counselor some of the things that went on in that house) she wanted to home school me. Staying home was complete torture to me. I walked on eggshells all day. I couldn’t be kid, I didn’t have friends and I couldn’t bother her at all. Thankfully my father (they are divorced) stepped in and said  “Hell no”.

When I was growing up as a child and a teen I knew my home life wasn’t normal because I had my dad’s house to go to. I saw other family and had an escape to go to. So what does that mean for my sisters who have both of their parents still together and conducting this home school, control type thing?

Personally I feel that home-schooling for some is not about the child, I feel like it is a way to maintain control and dependency. But for the poor child who doesn’t know any different- how do you begin to explain that their home is not normal? I do not know if they go through the abuse that I did. I don’t believe it is as physical as mine was but I do believe she is emotionally neglective. She trains the children in the way she wants them to go.

Of course they have their home school friends and co-op classes but those are all pre-determined by my mother. And if my mother has made up her mind that you are a threat- goodbye to you! I wish I could call her out on all of this. But no one in the family sees it and if they do they are shutting up about it.

I can’t keep living my life worried about my sisters or what will happen or if I will have a relationship with them. As sad as it is- a time with come but right now ignorance is bliss for them. I just won’t be surprised if one or any of them won’t be able to go to church or do anything else that is a trigger. What happens when they are 18 or go to college? What will they think?

I hope with all my life that they aren’t going through the same emotions I went through secretly on my own. That would break my heart.

Sometimes You Just Gotta Say F It

Excuse my language but it is true. I am not proud to cuss- I never do unless something calls for it. But I have come to realize all the crap I have been through sometimes there is just no other way expressing the anger I feel.

Next week is my final week with my therapist. She will be back in another place that costs $$ back in August but I don’t know if I really need to see her after this. I have made some major breaks with all my abuse, nightmares, sexual abuse and my exercise abuse.

I was forced to run every day on the treadmill for my m. ‘s lack of self confidence in herself. She viewed me as just an extension of herself and not as my own person. The repercussions of that is she was living through me. Since she was fat in middle school and high school- I had to run every morning a certain distance under a certain time. If I didn’t reach to what she thought I should or if I fell short- I wouldn’t be allowed to go to school, basketball, or anything else she wanted to come up with.

I remember one time she caught me running with my hands on bars and was “so very disappointed in me” because in her eyes I was cheating. She wouldn’t let me go to basketball practice until I ran that mile without touching the handle bars.

I went back down there and ran that whole mile without touching the handle bars fused on anger while her fat ass sat on the couch watching me. So you can imagine the extreme hate I have for exercise, treadmills or anything pushing my body to the limits. I associated that with my m.’s abuse. If I did exercise it would either put me back into that state, make me extremely angry to the point that I wanted to cut, or so depressed I wanted to end my life.

Now- I can’t tell you what clicked but I believe it is because I disowned her publicly for the first time ever in my life. Granted some family didn’t approve and gave me a 1,2… (which doesn’t matter).. but ever since then- I am able to handle conflicts better, especially with women.

I guess I viewed all women like my mother so I would never speak up and say something if I disagreed, felt pressured, angry, hurt or what have you. I would just say silent. Well since I broke the silence with my mother, I have broken my silence entirely. Now- that doesn’t mean I shout it from the rooftops but this girl has some backbone for the first time in her life. 🙂

Now to my point of all this and the reason why I titled this blog this way.. Yesterday was my first day working out and I ran on the treadmill. I only ran .5 of a mile, but who am I am trying to impress? This is the first time I am able to truly work out in a healthy way in probably, no joke, 3 years.

Well those emotions came up in me again.. of needing to be perfect in my run, not touching the handle bars, doing everything perfectly, I even felt the sense of anger arising in me again. I didn’t panic, I didn’t stress… I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and said, “Fuck off (my mother’s name).”  That seemed to work. Now I didn’t say it outloud, I said it in my head. You can say it as many times as needed but to my surprise I only needed to say it once.

After that I am able to work out fine, I just don’t allow myself to go back to that state. I have handled it and I can deal with it when it arises but I don’t go searching for triggers or trying to remember. I hope this helps someone like it did for me.

I can’t tell you how long I have waited for the chains to break. I finally do feel free. So it is true- sometimes you do just gotta say F*&K IT. I wish you the best.

My Current Playlist

I wanted to share my playlist with you. I have been honest with myself this past week about the relationships I need and the relationships I don’t. There has been a lot of mixed emotions from empowerment to “what in the heck am I doing?” moments. I am so much stronger now than I have ever been.

What has been helping me stay strong is I put together a playlist that talks about the way I have been treated or felt all my life. There is a mix of genres because I like all music. It took me a couple days to put this together, it is 20 songs and I am in total love with it.

I have not been able to work out at all because of my abuse when I was younger but with this playlist- I just might be able to one day. Okay- so enough chatting- here is the list. Enjoy! & Let me know what you think below. Plus let me know what songs help you out when you are having a difficult time staying strong.

I titled the playlist- Stronger

• 1 Fighter by Christina Aguilera
• 2 Just Like You by Three Days Grace
• 3 Mean by Taylor Swift
• 4 It’s Been Awhile by Staind
• 5 Breakdown by Seether
• 6 Brave by Sara Bareilles
• 7 Mean Girls by Rachel Crow
• 8 Freckles by Natasha Bedingfield
• 9 Breakaway by Kelly Clarkson
• 10 Wide Awake by Katy Perry
• 11 Roar by Katy Perry
• 12 Country Strong by Gwyneth Paltrow
• 13 I Don’t Want to Be by Gavin DeGraw
• 14 What It’s Like by Everlast
• 15 Call Me When You’re Sober by Evanescence
• 16 Not Afraid by Eminem
• 17 Liar Liar by Christina Grimmie
• 18 King of Thieves by Christina Grimmie
• 19 Not Fragile by Christina Grimmie
• 20 Cries in Vain by Bullet For My Valentine

It’s just under 80 minutes and I love every single song on here. So if you are a sufferer of abuse, you get all the blame shifted to you, been bullied, being left alone, depression, self harm or suicidal- one of these songs just might help you. 🙂

The Words that Heal

Last time I visited my therapist she said to think up of an action plan of what to do when I feel overwhelmed. I have been drawing a blank these past couple weeks and I couldn’t figure out anything. I saw this post on Yahoo the other day that talked about an Anger Box for newlyweds.

You get a box, you and your husband write love letters to each other  whenever you want and however many times you want. Fill up the box and then shut it. Then whenever you feel like giving up/calling it quits or get so mad at each other -you will open up that box and read your love letter written to you by your spouse. It helps remind you what it is truly all about.

I do have a blessings box. That is when I write about blessings God has provided for me so I do not forget about him. I have kinda slacked off/not being noticing the blessings during my “haze”. And like my last entry (speaking in quotes) sometimes I just don’t want anything to do with God because of my abusive triggers.

My task today besides cleaning the house and going to therapy will be to get these boxes together and start writing some letters. I might write on the outside what it will help for. So for example I will write a letter that will explain how life is so beautiful and all my plans if I become suicidal. Also my husband’s letters will help remind me how much I mean to him and that will help.

Another one is if I feel so overwhelmed by sharing living space with others- I will write a letter about how much of a blessing they are. Or if I can’t stand to read a scripture because of a trigger- I will read a letter I wrote to God. I struggle with seeking attention to wanting to be covered like a nun. I also struggle with extreme anxiety, nightmares, fantasies, anger, depression, self-esteem, using food as my comfort, exercise abuse triggers, anti social behavior and more.

I haven’t developed anything else for that action plan but I know this will help. I am excited to start this journey of helping myself heal. I might even put a couple letters I write to myself on here to share. I have a lot of work to do. 🙂

 

Haze

It’s been two weeks since I have last blogged. I want to avoid certain topics. I can feel myself start to zone out. It is like a haze over a pond early in the sunrise. Gradual, silent and lingering. I just want to disappear. I have not been able to go to counseling for 3 weeks now. Not because of my choice but because she has been unavailable or sick.

Of course realistically I do not blame her, but in the hazey fog- it’s all her fault and I want to quit. Why do I depend so much on other people to make me feel better when they just let me down? The past couple weeks have been huge triggers, an episode of self harm, brutal nightmares, panic and anxiety attacks so bad I have to leave certain buildings, I am not only thinking about a world without me but how to commit suicide.

My life honestly in “real eyes” is not that bad at all. I actually have it fairly easy right now but on the inside I am screaming. My eyes lust for my own blood, my brain thinks any man will hurt me, my body shakes and cringes because I feel like I am about to pounced upon. My hands scratch and pull at my own disgusting fat body. I cry hot tears, my chest gets these sharp knife like stabbing pains ever so often that bring me to my knees and then I go numb.

I enter in the haze. It is not a daydream, it is not a sleep, it is not anything. It just is numb. I need her help and for 3 weeks I have been stuck in this haze longing to get out.

 

The Changed Dream

I nudged my husband as I woke up in an internal panic. I just had another rape dream. The fear feels so real- that scares me more than anything else. Here I am up at 4am- (the time is always wrong when my posts are published) blogging about it to hopefully “deal” with it effectively. I want to let myself experience it instead of blocking it out.

This dream was different from all the others. I have never had deception. When I do have dreams about rape they are very violent and already in the process of happening when my dreaming begins. I am forced to do things and endure things and the situation, people, setting and abuse always changes.

In this dream I was outside & behind of the building where I go for counseling. There was a TV on at the edge of the sidewalk, it was displaying some movie (kinda like Wal-Mart TVs in the Entertainment Department). When I started to watch it no one was around or parked near me. I remember smiling at the TV and enjoying myself. I can’t remember what was on that I liked so much. After a couple minutes of watching the TV, something had caught my eye.

The way the back of the building is setup in my dream is that a sidewalk wraps all the way around the building. There is also a wrap around parking lot that is fenced in by concrete on both sides. Behind the building and past the parking lot there is an exit road that will lead into a neighborhood. The building is in the middle of downtown. The only way cars can park is along each side of the building facing away from the sidewalk near the concrete walls. There wasn’t any car parked directly behind the building because it was an open lot leading to dumpsters, other houses and the exit road.

I noticed to my left that there was a maroon Chevy Silverado (1994 model) parked beside the side walk on the other side. It was the only car parked on that side of the building and in that manner. It was very odd. I walk along the sidewalk and notice a young man talking with a woman. She was now walking away from him and up towards the front of the building out of sight. I didn’t get to see her face or hear what they were talking about. I stopped at the corner of the sidewalk about 12-15 feet away from him when he noticed me.

He turned to look at me. His hair was thick, black and combed back. He was dressed well, blue jeans and a tan/brown jacket. His glasses were a bit bigger then his face. The young man’s demeanor was unconfident. He nervously fidgeted as soon as he looked at me. It was almost as if females noticing him made him uncomfortable. He behaved and spoke in a way that would be classified as “nerdy”.

I offered him some friendly advice and told him he couldn’t park his truck like that- along the sidewalk. His truck was dusty but I couldn’t see inside it. After I politely informed him of his parking, he started walking towards me. His voice was shaky, nervous and a bit “high” all in which did not seem threatening. He wasn’t that close to me when he told me why he was parked like that.

“You see,” he began to explain. “I like to come back here from time to time to make sure everything is okay. I was just helping my aunt out.” I nodded my head, believing his “Good Samaritan” behavior. His shoulders were slumped and his smile was awkward and gaudy. He stopped walking because I was now walking away from him towards the exit road. I smiled at him but regretted getting attention from this awkward guy. I don’t know exactly why at this point- I honestly thought in my dream he was that guy that wouldn’t get the picture that you weren’t “into him”. Kinda like Steve with Laura Winslow on the show Family Matters.

I continued walking slowly away from him when I heard him say one last thing. “You know there was been a lot of crime on women here.” I stopped and looked at him. My eyes met his and my chest got tight again. The pause seemed like minutes. He un-slumped his shoulders showing off his muscular build and his eyes went from harmless to predator. I looked him in the eyes and then my eyes went to his pants. I knew in that moment he wasn’t a “Good Samaritan”- he wanted to rape me and he was going to get me.

He knew that I knew that’s what he wanted. I nervously smiled at him and began to walk faster. He did as well. I tucked my hair behind my ears and started to jog. He jogged too. Then I knew I for sure he wanted me. His pace quickened again. It became an all out sprint as he came for me faster and faster. My heart raced, my legs moved, my mind panicked. He was going to force himself on me once he caught me. I could feel his hands already on me as I ran.

 

I woke up. When I woke up I had fear in my mind but intense pleasure vibrations in my body. That doesn’t make any sense to me to be mentally terrified but yet physically yearning? As a laid there half asleep- all different kinds of scenarios went rushing through my head. They were of him catching me, ripping my clothes off, stabbing me, beating me and forcing me. I remember his small tattoo on the inside of his groin. I imagined being left for dead.

The most interesting part was what happened next. All the abuse was in flashes, my awake mind was making up the possibilities. But in the midst of all the trauma it was all completely wiped from my mind. I was back into my dream. I was running away from him- where I had been left before the flashes started. I was running fast but he was closing the distance on me. I just needed to run to the exit road and down to the neighborhood.

I finally got there and instead of him grabbing me at the road- he was grabbed. He was rushed in by multiple police and hand cuffed. I have never ever been able to alter a dream but in this one  I did. I took the power back. I was in control. After he was cuffed the police thanked me for my work and that they had been working to catch this guy after multiple women came forward explaining who their rapist was and how he deceived them. I was happy to help and I smiled as I saw the guy get taken away in the cop car.

*                       *                        *

When I nudged my husband- I wanted to feel safe. He put his arms around me and that helped. The actual thought of physical abuse and violence didn’t bother me. What traumatized me was the deception. Even though it was all a dream/nightmare- I will never forget the eyes that went from harmless to predator in an instant. The deception is what paralyzes me.

The Little Girl

I am sorry for not posting in the last day or two, after No Noise- I had to emotionally take a break. That incident was really traumatic for me. Since Easter is literally just around the corner I thought this would be the perfect time to tell you how I got to know the real Jesus. If this is the first blog you are reading of mine then you wouldn’t quite understand that statement.

I have setup a time to regularly see a counselor/therapist for my anxiety, depression and traumas. One of the forms of abuse she pointed out to me was my Spiritual Abuse I get from my m. Spiritual abuse is hard to overcome because it turns God into the bad guy when in reality he is not.

The Abuser will switch or manipulate God’s word to make you fit into the mold they wish for you to be in. So for example, my abuser always wanted to be right and be in charge. So the passage “Children obey your parents with all your heart-” is forever engrained in my brain, as well as “spare the rod, spoil the child.”

In my opinion that is a horrible way to grow up. I was taught about God and all the “Sunday School” stories but it was never about his tenderness or his true love. Love to me was a foreign concept. We would discuss it just like it was a thing, not an action.

Of course I have heard the story over and over about how he died for us and rose again and we are saved. But that sounds quite generic to me. It doesn’t have any personal attachment to me at all. I was more so taught of his anger if you didn’t obey him.

When I was little I accepted Jesus into my heart to please my m. Not because I understood what I was doing but to see her smile, to be proud of me and to draw me closer to her. It didn’t work. The spiritual abuse- the memorization, the stories, the fakery was getting worse- so I forgot about Jesus.

When I was 10 I was attacked by our dog in the face and skull (The Trees’ Secret blog). I remember sitting there in the hospital bed and truly feeling his protection over me but I still didn’t quite get it. I carried on without him. When I was 14 my dad received custody of me, which I talk about in The Switch blog.

My m. still had visitation with me and when I was about 14-16 I harbored some serious anger. I still don’t quite understand why I am so full of rage at times but it was bad. I drifted far away from anything that reminded me of Jesus because that reminded me of the abuse and the abuser.

All my life I just wanted someone who I could speak to freely and understand my pain and just be there. But no matter how many times I tried to explain- I just couldn’t find the words. I had no idea what I was going through or why I felt the way I did.

When I was 18- I was raped, which I talk about some of the flashbacks in the No Noise blog. I still didn’t heavily rely on Jesus at all. I wanted to do what I wanted. Why was I to listen to someone who was forced down my throat and was all about rules?

After the rape I became very promiscuous, sleeping with dozens of men. I got a thrill out of being wanted and desired. It made me feel sexy, powerful and fulfilled my need of being wanted that I longed for. It wasn’t until I was around 21-22 that I met my future husband and things changed. We both weren’t living the way we were supposed to but it was just something about him that made me want to be with him. I had never had a serious boyfriend before and didn’t really ever truly want one- he was the first.

It wasn’t until my cancer scare and being told I had a sexually transmitted infection that brought me to my knees. I felt nasty, dirty and filthy. I had to get a biopsy to check if the tissue on my cervix was indeed cancerous or not. We got the results back and it was clear. Nothing was there and the infection cleared up with antibiotics. I knew right then and there God had protected me. I had not had a single real pregnancy scare in all the times I had have sex, no STDs and no cancer.

It still didn’t really sink in about God’s love for me until I realized one day that all I ever wanted was someone to be there.  To know what kind of experience I had gone through. I always felt too scared to talk to anyone in the family because no one ever saw what my abuser was truly like. No one ever felt the loneliness I felt growing up. Who would believe me?

Everything with my m. is so rehearsed. Even at Easter Sunday Church or dinner she will say “He is Risen” and you are supposed to say “He is Risen indeed”. I am sorry but since when does it matter what you say or how you say it? Why is it a rule? It just feels completely fake and impersonal. Why not tell the story of how he spoke to your heart? Or of how he was treated?

There is a country song called The Little Girl by John Michael Montgomery, I had heard it before several times but never actually listened to it. I don’t want to spoil it for you if you haven’t heard it but even though that isn’t my life at all- the meaning at the end is the same. Jesus was there.

That melted my stone cold heart of bitterness I had towards everyone. I didn’t like anyone, I didn’t trust anyone, I didn’t care about anyone but when I listened to this song- it all melted away. My future husband and I got back into church, closer to our family and really started to understand God’s love for us. He pulled us both out of the darkness and God offered me a shoulder to cry on.

He knows everything I have been through, he still loves and cherishes me even though some people still despise me. He took everything that I was ashamed about and wiped it away. I still remember the things I did but the guilt is gone because I know I am forgiven from all the horrible things I did to myself and to others.

I know it’s hard because he isn’t physically here to be with you during your journey or mine. And sometimes to be honest- I resent him for that. I doubt him sometimes. I lose faith. I get angry. I don’t have all the answers. I am not perfect at all. I don’t go to church every sunday and I don’t pray before EVERY meal but it is something I am not judged on. He knows my heart. Even though we don’t have the perfect relationship- I strive to be better.  I am  his and love him with all heart. Why? Because he was there and always will be there for me.

“Cause He was there in my old house-
He held me close to His side”

John Michael Montgomery

The Little Girl