It's been a real struggle for me to know whether I'm hearing the voice of G-d. I find it next to impossible to distinguish when the voice is mine or His.
I feel like I can hear Him at times, loud and clear. While other times He is a bit more faint, like a whisper's whisper. Then, still other times, it seems as though He peaces out and goes radio silent for weeks, or months! I often have themes, through the week, and sometimes that seems as though it's His planning. But other times, it seems as though these themes have nothing to do with Him, or they disappear all together.
Maybe I read too much into nothing. Maybe I'm so impatient that He is talking, but takes breaks. Maybe I'm not in the Word enough, not praying enough, not listening to Him enough. Maybe I'm crazy and none of this is right.
I Googled (I know, ridiculous) "how to know you're hearing G-d's voice. It brought up results with lists. You know the kinds of lists that say: "5 steps to know it's G-d" or "8 ways to prove it was Him talking to you" or whatever else. They're along those lines as: "7 simple steps to get your crush to fall in love with you" or "18.34 steps to make sure they're 'the one'".
The information in these lists were mostly correct, but so very basic. Make sure the voice is saying things that line up with scripture, ask your G-dly mentors if what was said sounds solid, etc. etc. etc.
I think the problem here is that I'm looking for some breakthrough from Google. I'm searching for some type of validation and awe-inspiring revelation from an internet browser that also provides people with search results for porn, drug deals, prostitution, gambling, clothing sales, and tech advice. In my defense, I tried going to the One who is supposed to provide the answers but if I can't hear His voice then how am I supposed to get an answer?
I don't know what I'm doing wrong or what I'm not doing. There was such a "breakthrough" and then nothing. Maybe I'm just trying to do too much on my own accord. Maybe I'm supposed to struggle for awhile. Maybe I've fallen out of G-d's will. Maybe I'm my own worst enemy or maybe, just maybe, I'm truly alone in this season.
Showing posts with label struggling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label struggling. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 27, 2018
Leadership
Whatever job you have, movies you watch, organization you belong to, or family you are in, there is a leader. Sometimes it's you. Sometimes the leader is someone else. Sometimes you share the responsibility or you lead while being under another person's guidance.
You get the point.
Today I started thinking about some stuff. I know, sketchy situation, but it happened.
I was Googling conferences and retreats to go to, when I started thinking about the various conferences and retreats I've been to.
There is a leader who has the idea. They enlist the help of others to help get this idea off the ground. Those people then begin to pick subjects, dates, locations, and the millions of other details that go into such an event. The speakers start to carefully choose the subject matter and words they want to use, and work it over and over until it's "just right".
All of this to say that I feel woefully unprepared to be a leader. I don't feel like I can be a leader for a bible study (the one that I am presently doing). Nor do I feel that I could lead at a church, or at work, or anywhere else. I feel unprepared and subpar.
The thing that I have learned about leaders is that they have often walked some rough roads and learned some really difficult lessons. This isn't always the case, but occurs often. Good leaders need to be able to listen to and respect those they are called to lead. This helps them to be effective and *usually* respected. Leaders typically have some type of wonderful lessons that they teach others, whether on purpose or inadvertently.
We look to leaders to know what to do. To burden the responsibility of decision making so that we can carry out orders without bad outcomes being our fault. We want reassurance or gentle guidance to help us in our quest to fulfill our goals. We want someone to give us tasks to complete in order to help us feel like we have purpose and meaning in what we are doing.
We want someone to have the idea, to carry out a great deal of legwork, and then to present to us an idea that is interesting to us, so that we can partake of the benefits. I do it. I want someone to research the things I am interested in, put it in a pleasing format, and then provide me with the invitation to decide whether I want to hear the info or not. (i.e. Invitations to conferences, with speakers talking on subjects they have studied for years that have piqued my interest. But I want the choice to say no.)
The problem here, and the reason I am writing this post is because I feel people keep shoving me into "leadership" kinds of positions. Sometimes I shove myself into said position. Sometimes there is just a huge push from others. Then, however, I get into said position and flounder. At which pint I get told that it was not the right time. It was too soon. It was wrong.
I know it's not good to simply do things because someone else is telling me to do it, but sometimes we are supposed to follow another person's guidance in order to start something.
I get frustrated because there are times when it seems G-d is calling me to do something. Without telling anyone else about this, I get a friend or family member who encourages me to do this something. So, I do it but it was wrong.
Then I'm left feeling like a fool. I want to climb in a hole, cry myself to sleep, and proceed to not have to wake up. Yeah, this is a bit dramatic for the minute-ness of the situation and I can see that. I also know that I'm not actually going to crawl in a hole and die. For some stupid reason, I keep waking up. Day after day, week after week, month after month. For YEARS. It hasn't stopped me in the last 24+ years. Sometimes I sleep the day away, but there are moments of being awake in there.
The shame of failures does not keep me from going on about my day. It doesn't keep me from talking to the family and friends who shame me, unnecessarily. It doesn't cause me to miss work, or to hide out in bed (unless I don't have anything scheduled that particular day.)
I am, by no means, a leader. I have no desire for the responsibility and I am woefully unprepared.
Somebody please remind me of this when I think to try some type of leadership role in the future. Be the one to save me from humiliation. Somebody be the one to snap me back to my senses and keep me from the pits of self-inflicted troubles. Good gosh, I'm a fool.
You get the point.
Today I started thinking about some stuff. I know, sketchy situation, but it happened.
I was Googling conferences and retreats to go to, when I started thinking about the various conferences and retreats I've been to.
There is a leader who has the idea. They enlist the help of others to help get this idea off the ground. Those people then begin to pick subjects, dates, locations, and the millions of other details that go into such an event. The speakers start to carefully choose the subject matter and words they want to use, and work it over and over until it's "just right".
All of this to say that I feel woefully unprepared to be a leader. I don't feel like I can be a leader for a bible study (the one that I am presently doing). Nor do I feel that I could lead at a church, or at work, or anywhere else. I feel unprepared and subpar.
The thing that I have learned about leaders is that they have often walked some rough roads and learned some really difficult lessons. This isn't always the case, but occurs often. Good leaders need to be able to listen to and respect those they are called to lead. This helps them to be effective and *usually* respected. Leaders typically have some type of wonderful lessons that they teach others, whether on purpose or inadvertently.
We look to leaders to know what to do. To burden the responsibility of decision making so that we can carry out orders without bad outcomes being our fault. We want reassurance or gentle guidance to help us in our quest to fulfill our goals. We want someone to give us tasks to complete in order to help us feel like we have purpose and meaning in what we are doing.
We want someone to have the idea, to carry out a great deal of legwork, and then to present to us an idea that is interesting to us, so that we can partake of the benefits. I do it. I want someone to research the things I am interested in, put it in a pleasing format, and then provide me with the invitation to decide whether I want to hear the info or not. (i.e. Invitations to conferences, with speakers talking on subjects they have studied for years that have piqued my interest. But I want the choice to say no.)
The problem here, and the reason I am writing this post is because I feel people keep shoving me into "leadership" kinds of positions. Sometimes I shove myself into said position. Sometimes there is just a huge push from others. Then, however, I get into said position and flounder. At which pint I get told that it was not the right time. It was too soon. It was wrong.
I know it's not good to simply do things because someone else is telling me to do it, but sometimes we are supposed to follow another person's guidance in order to start something.
I get frustrated because there are times when it seems G-d is calling me to do something. Without telling anyone else about this, I get a friend or family member who encourages me to do this something. So, I do it but it was wrong.
Then I'm left feeling like a fool. I want to climb in a hole, cry myself to sleep, and proceed to not have to wake up. Yeah, this is a bit dramatic for the minute-ness of the situation and I can see that. I also know that I'm not actually going to crawl in a hole and die. For some stupid reason, I keep waking up. Day after day, week after week, month after month. For YEARS. It hasn't stopped me in the last 24+ years. Sometimes I sleep the day away, but there are moments of being awake in there.
The shame of failures does not keep me from going on about my day. It doesn't keep me from talking to the family and friends who shame me, unnecessarily. It doesn't cause me to miss work, or to hide out in bed (unless I don't have anything scheduled that particular day.)
I am, by no means, a leader. I have no desire for the responsibility and I am woefully unprepared.
Somebody please remind me of this when I think to try some type of leadership role in the future. Be the one to save me from humiliation. Somebody be the one to snap me back to my senses and keep me from the pits of self-inflicted troubles. Good gosh, I'm a fool.
Monday, June 25, 2018
EMDR
When I went through my first traumatic instance with ex-boyfriend, I went to my college and attempted to get counseling. The counselors there are not familiar with trauma, they counsel students more through depression, anxiety, problems with school, and other such "student" problems.
One of the counselors was trained in EMDR... I think... She told me she was not super familiar and that she would need to reference the manual frequently to help me through the process. We didn't talk about anything that would have normally been covered in counseling, we just jumped right in to EMDR processes. I couldn't even hold it together to find my safe place without crying hysterically. Okay, not hysterically, but I couldn't breathe enough to talk using more than 1 syllable words at a time.
Fast-forward to my last counseling session: It was my third week in a row where I cried and dissociated. So, at the end, she suggested I try EMDR because I have been shutting down a lot lately and after all of the progress I had made, I was starting to rapidly backslide to where I was on week 2 or 3.
So my homework for the week was to just think about calling someone about EMDR. Well, I went to work after that counseling session, Googled all about the EMDR process: what to expect, what it would be like, what the goal is, etc. I proceeded to email my sweet little counselor right away at like 0300 that I would give it a shot. She woke up, sent me a list of names, and I made an appointment when I woke up at 3 p.m.
I'm still really nervous for what I'm going to have to go through, what I'm going to uncover, and what I will have to re-live, but I'm hoping it goes well and helps me. I've heard that nightmares are common and that it is common to need to process what happened in the session for the remainder of the night or even for the next couple of days.
I had my first session yesterday and it went well. We did a "practice" round with a "lightly distressing" memory so I could see how the process worked. I chose traffic, and our practice session made me surprisingly less anxious about the prospect of sitting in traffic. Granted, it's not a traumatic memory, but I hope that it will work similarly for the bad stuff. I've heard from several people who have had parents or friends go through this process that it has helped them.
I'll keep y'all posted.
One of the counselors was trained in EMDR... I think... She told me she was not super familiar and that she would need to reference the manual frequently to help me through the process. We didn't talk about anything that would have normally been covered in counseling, we just jumped right in to EMDR processes. I couldn't even hold it together to find my safe place without crying hysterically. Okay, not hysterically, but I couldn't breathe enough to talk using more than 1 syllable words at a time.
Fast-forward to my last counseling session: It was my third week in a row where I cried and dissociated. So, at the end, she suggested I try EMDR because I have been shutting down a lot lately and after all of the progress I had made, I was starting to rapidly backslide to where I was on week 2 or 3.
So my homework for the week was to just think about calling someone about EMDR. Well, I went to work after that counseling session, Googled all about the EMDR process: what to expect, what it would be like, what the goal is, etc. I proceeded to email my sweet little counselor right away at like 0300 that I would give it a shot. She woke up, sent me a list of names, and I made an appointment when I woke up at 3 p.m.
I'm still really nervous for what I'm going to have to go through, what I'm going to uncover, and what I will have to re-live, but I'm hoping it goes well and helps me. I've heard that nightmares are common and that it is common to need to process what happened in the session for the remainder of the night or even for the next couple of days.
I had my first session yesterday and it went well. We did a "practice" round with a "lightly distressing" memory so I could see how the process worked. I chose traffic, and our practice session made me surprisingly less anxious about the prospect of sitting in traffic. Granted, it's not a traumatic memory, but I hope that it will work similarly for the bad stuff. I've heard from several people who have had parents or friends go through this process that it has helped them.
I'll keep y'all posted.
Monday, April 23, 2018
Ends to New Beginnings
This week was the end of group therapy and my bible study. It's been rough. I've really enjoyed the friendships that have come to be in both groups, the growth that I've shown, and having places to be to get me out of the house. Those few things can really help improve a person's outlook on life and well-being!
I'm fixin' to tell my sweet little counselor that she was right... right about finding community, right about people being out there that are willing to support me, and right about being able to share and not scaring everyone away. She has been such a blessing.
As is normal with the final bits of anything, there is time to remember how far you've come and what has happened. We share thanks for the people that we've met and the things we've learned. There is an exchanging of phone numbers, encouragement, and a "I hope to see you soon" or "email/text me when you get news about..."
And, as G-d tends to do in my life, there is a theme.
It dawned on me partly in the car today, and I began weeping... in traffic... with my dog sniffing out the window and warm spring air blowing in. Then, as I sat down to begin processing all of the things that have happened this week (by typing them here) G-d flat out told me because I wasn't fully getting it.
Then He keeps bringing up more examples as I continue to write!
So here it is: the theme for this week is sex. What it costs, how it's abused, how it's affected me, and how it has shaped the course of history.
You guys know, because I talk about it in most every post, but I have a history of sexual abuse. Not once, not twice, but countless times. And not at the hands of just one, nor two, but at least three guys. It was a realization that hit me hard this week.
In group, we were encouraged to talk abut something on our last day of group that we would regret not saying while we were in group. I couldn't think of anything. And, since my personal counselor is also the leader of the group, she encouraged me again in my personal session and even prompted me on what I could and should consider talking about. I spent all of 2 weeks pondering what it is that I should share, with nothing to say for myself until the day of group. I wrote it down on 3 pages of my journal and walked in.
Group was nearly over when my counselor asked if I had anything to say. I warned them that I was just going to read it, because I needed to say these things but they are hard for me to say (I left out that I often "shut down" *read dissociate* when I begin thinking/talking about these things).
I wept.
I cried as I read.
I couldn't see the pages so I had to lift my journal up in front of my face so that the tears weren't blocking all of the writing.
And I said it. I said the things that I have had such a hard time saying. I spoke the words, "... I have suffered through countless acts of sexual and other abuse. I have never once gotten to choose to have sex or not have sex, these things were forced upon me. I battle daily with my dreams, desires, and my broken sense of the world.
"However, I can see my healing. I have been made clean, and pure, and have been dressed in white. I've seen it!
"Somehow, these evil things will be used for good. I don't know how, but it'll happen."
Of course, I share a little bit more, but those are things that I have had such a hard time being able to say. I couldn't even admit them to myself a couple of months ago and now I've said them out loud.
Then, another girl in our group shared and she cried through her part of sharing. I cried right along with her. It was so difficult to not just reach over and hug her tight! But, knowing how I deal with things, I don't want to be touched when explaining how somebody else has used touch to so seriously damage me. I asked her, when it was all done, if I could hug her and she accepted. My heart breaks that she has experienced the things that she has. I have gone through many of the same things, but it hurts even more hearing that someone else has had to endure that crap.
I told you guys the theme for the week was sex... Well, even in bible study, the video at the end of the study was of the Q&A portion of the conference that the study was based on. Again, for those who have forgotten or who didn't know, I was doing the study Anointed Transformed Redeemed about David. We can't talk about David without talking about Bathsheba, right? But that was such a small part of the study and it was weeks ago!
This week, in the bonus video, it was the filmed portion of the conference that was the Q&A (I already told you guys that). However, this is important because somebody asked something about marriage or how to minister to husbands or something... and Kay Arthur, Priscilla Shirer, and Beth Moore (not so much Beth), began this whole thing about sex!
In a room full of married women, at church, this was a time of great amounts of laughter for them! For me, surely the only single girl under the age of 30 who has not had a great relationship with the subject of sex, this was a serious struggle. Kay touched on singleness and the relationship you should have with sex: she said we should not be having it. Well, duh, and I'm not. It was just a moment where being left out converged with a moment of being triggered and disappointed and all of that happened at church.
*deep breaths*
Through several things, I have been convicted of something that I have not come to terms with, and a huge reason why I'm probably having a hard time this week: sex and I do not have a good relationship. I'm not saying that if we did, that I would be partaking before marriage. But it has been used as such a strong force of evil and destruction in my life that I don't look forward to it. I don't hope for it, I don't look forward to my wedding night or to being married. I don't look forward to "making" kids or to birthing them because it is all a reminder of sex.
I learned this week that many victims/survivors have such a bad relationship with sex because of the abuse, that some of the self harm can be in the form of touching themselves. Trying to find pleasure from how the body reacts and the way that their body probably reacted in the face of abuse. One thing I haven't confessed before is that I have struggled with this myself.
After my first assault, rape, weekend of horror, I was convinced that my body was broken. He was touching me, doing these things that he knew would get a response from my body because he had had sex with other girlfriends in the past. Me, having never done any of that before and having not wanted to do it then, did not react. There was no pleasure, no excitement, no enjoyment. So, I concluded that my body was broken and that I was one of the few people that suffer from not being able to find any pleasure from sex and from being touched.
So, I tried to "recreate" the things that should bring about a sensation that people had described as fun, or pleasurable, or even a need. My body kind of reacted, but I was filled with so much shame and despair and sadness.
Even with this misery, it became a compulsion. I wanted to cut. I wanted to hurt myself. I wanted to feel something.
I didn't cut. I did hurt myself. And the only thing I ever truly felt was hatred, disgust, shame, despair, regret, and ridiculous darkness.
I stopped shortly after attempting this act.
Then came exfiance. After his initial rape, I couldn't get away. There were so many assaults. So much manipulation. So many excuses, bullshit stories, bible verses he used to tell me I belonged to him and that my body was no longer my own. Blah, blah, blah. He introduced me (read *forced me*) to do things I had never imagined. Things that truly revulsed me and I actually begin cutting and self harming and things that made me want to die.
After that, touching myself became a way that I could control things. I got no pleasure from what he did. Sure, my body would react, but I did not like it. So my brain, making its new pathways, associated those reactions with not being a good thing. In fact, it was associated with pain and depression and all terrible things!
By controlling it myself, when he was not with me, I felt like my body wasn't actually broken, like someday it might be okay... aaaaaaannnd it increased my shame and despair ten-fold.
Fast-forward to this week: Things that I did not expect, but that definitely needed to happen, in fact happened. This topic was brought up and somebody that I have admired and loved learning from/with shared about her struggles with this. Then, to her, I whispered "me too."
It was something that needed to happen. That I was terrified of anyone else finding out about. And now, I have to face it. I have to fight this. I have to work through it and learn to deal with these things. Then, I have hope for healing.
I've been studying the ladies of the bible, primarily the Tamar's, Rahab, Bathsheba, and various others (especially those with abuse, sexual misconduct, and those who were broken [all of us]). I'm finding encouragement and hope, but it's also allowing G-d to expose many of my deep, dark secret places. It hurts, but I hope that someday it'll be worth the pain of debriding (I think I spelled that wrong...)
I'm fixin' to tell my sweet little counselor that she was right... right about finding community, right about people being out there that are willing to support me, and right about being able to share and not scaring everyone away. She has been such a blessing.
As is normal with the final bits of anything, there is time to remember how far you've come and what has happened. We share thanks for the people that we've met and the things we've learned. There is an exchanging of phone numbers, encouragement, and a "I hope to see you soon" or "email/text me when you get news about..."
And, as G-d tends to do in my life, there is a theme.
It dawned on me partly in the car today, and I began weeping... in traffic... with my dog sniffing out the window and warm spring air blowing in. Then, as I sat down to begin processing all of the things that have happened this week (by typing them here) G-d flat out told me because I wasn't fully getting it.
Then He keeps bringing up more examples as I continue to write!
So here it is: the theme for this week is sex. What it costs, how it's abused, how it's affected me, and how it has shaped the course of history.
You guys know, because I talk about it in most every post, but I have a history of sexual abuse. Not once, not twice, but countless times. And not at the hands of just one, nor two, but at least three guys. It was a realization that hit me hard this week.
In group, we were encouraged to talk abut something on our last day of group that we would regret not saying while we were in group. I couldn't think of anything. And, since my personal counselor is also the leader of the group, she encouraged me again in my personal session and even prompted me on what I could and should consider talking about. I spent all of 2 weeks pondering what it is that I should share, with nothing to say for myself until the day of group. I wrote it down on 3 pages of my journal and walked in.
Group was nearly over when my counselor asked if I had anything to say. I warned them that I was just going to read it, because I needed to say these things but they are hard for me to say (I left out that I often "shut down" *read dissociate* when I begin thinking/talking about these things).
I wept.
I cried as I read.
I couldn't see the pages so I had to lift my journal up in front of my face so that the tears weren't blocking all of the writing.
And I said it. I said the things that I have had such a hard time saying. I spoke the words, "... I have suffered through countless acts of sexual and other abuse. I have never once gotten to choose to have sex or not have sex, these things were forced upon me. I battle daily with my dreams, desires, and my broken sense of the world.
"However, I can see my healing. I have been made clean, and pure, and have been dressed in white. I've seen it!
"Somehow, these evil things will be used for good. I don't know how, but it'll happen."
Of course, I share a little bit more, but those are things that I have had such a hard time being able to say. I couldn't even admit them to myself a couple of months ago and now I've said them out loud.
Then, another girl in our group shared and she cried through her part of sharing. I cried right along with her. It was so difficult to not just reach over and hug her tight! But, knowing how I deal with things, I don't want to be touched when explaining how somebody else has used touch to so seriously damage me. I asked her, when it was all done, if I could hug her and she accepted. My heart breaks that she has experienced the things that she has. I have gone through many of the same things, but it hurts even more hearing that someone else has had to endure that crap.
I told you guys the theme for the week was sex... Well, even in bible study, the video at the end of the study was of the Q&A portion of the conference that the study was based on. Again, for those who have forgotten or who didn't know, I was doing the study Anointed Transformed Redeemed about David. We can't talk about David without talking about Bathsheba, right? But that was such a small part of the study and it was weeks ago!
This week, in the bonus video, it was the filmed portion of the conference that was the Q&A (I already told you guys that). However, this is important because somebody asked something about marriage or how to minister to husbands or something... and Kay Arthur, Priscilla Shirer, and Beth Moore (not so much Beth), began this whole thing about sex!
In a room full of married women, at church, this was a time of great amounts of laughter for them! For me, surely the only single girl under the age of 30 who has not had a great relationship with the subject of sex, this was a serious struggle. Kay touched on singleness and the relationship you should have with sex: she said we should not be having it. Well, duh, and I'm not. It was just a moment where being left out converged with a moment of being triggered and disappointed and all of that happened at church.
*deep breaths*
Through several things, I have been convicted of something that I have not come to terms with, and a huge reason why I'm probably having a hard time this week: sex and I do not have a good relationship. I'm not saying that if we did, that I would be partaking before marriage. But it has been used as such a strong force of evil and destruction in my life that I don't look forward to it. I don't hope for it, I don't look forward to my wedding night or to being married. I don't look forward to "making" kids or to birthing them because it is all a reminder of sex.
I learned this week that many victims/survivors have such a bad relationship with sex because of the abuse, that some of the self harm can be in the form of touching themselves. Trying to find pleasure from how the body reacts and the way that their body probably reacted in the face of abuse. One thing I haven't confessed before is that I have struggled with this myself.
After my first assault, rape, weekend of horror, I was convinced that my body was broken. He was touching me, doing these things that he knew would get a response from my body because he had had sex with other girlfriends in the past. Me, having never done any of that before and having not wanted to do it then, did not react. There was no pleasure, no excitement, no enjoyment. So, I concluded that my body was broken and that I was one of the few people that suffer from not being able to find any pleasure from sex and from being touched.
So, I tried to "recreate" the things that should bring about a sensation that people had described as fun, or pleasurable, or even a need. My body kind of reacted, but I was filled with so much shame and despair and sadness.
Even with this misery, it became a compulsion. I wanted to cut. I wanted to hurt myself. I wanted to feel something.
I didn't cut. I did hurt myself. And the only thing I ever truly felt was hatred, disgust, shame, despair, regret, and ridiculous darkness.
I stopped shortly after attempting this act.
Then came exfiance. After his initial rape, I couldn't get away. There were so many assaults. So much manipulation. So many excuses, bullshit stories, bible verses he used to tell me I belonged to him and that my body was no longer my own. Blah, blah, blah. He introduced me (read *forced me*) to do things I had never imagined. Things that truly revulsed me and I actually begin cutting and self harming and things that made me want to die.
After that, touching myself became a way that I could control things. I got no pleasure from what he did. Sure, my body would react, but I did not like it. So my brain, making its new pathways, associated those reactions with not being a good thing. In fact, it was associated with pain and depression and all terrible things!
By controlling it myself, when he was not with me, I felt like my body wasn't actually broken, like someday it might be okay... aaaaaaannnd it increased my shame and despair ten-fold.
Fast-forward to this week: Things that I did not expect, but that definitely needed to happen, in fact happened. This topic was brought up and somebody that I have admired and loved learning from/with shared about her struggles with this. Then, to her, I whispered "me too."
It was something that needed to happen. That I was terrified of anyone else finding out about. And now, I have to face it. I have to fight this. I have to work through it and learn to deal with these things. Then, I have hope for healing.
I've been studying the ladies of the bible, primarily the Tamar's, Rahab, Bathsheba, and various others (especially those with abuse, sexual misconduct, and those who were broken [all of us]). I'm finding encouragement and hope, but it's also allowing G-d to expose many of my deep, dark secret places. It hurts, but I hope that someday it'll be worth the pain of debriding (I think I spelled that wrong...)
Wednesday, March 21, 2018
Bible Studies
Bible studies are supposed to be feel-good experiences, right? Times in life where you can go, connect with believers in your church/congregations, and learn about G-d. Am I right in this? Or are these just thoughts coming from left field?
Maybe I'm just one of the few that have found bible studies that have caused me to question many things that have held fast as "truths" in my life. I've been a part of a couple of studies now, that have shaken me thoroughly. All for good, but it's been a rough ride, nonetheless.
I've wrestled with G-d. I've sobbed uncontrollably. I've begun to hope for a fresh start and a newness in my walk. Most of all, I've discovered that many of the "truths" I've learned throughout my life have been nothing more than deep seated lies that I, unfortunately, clung to because it was all I had.
Bible study #1: The Quest: An Excursion Toward Intimacy with God - by Beth Moore
Bible study #2: Anointed, Transformed, Redeemed: A Study of David - by Priscilla Shirer, Beth Moore, and Kay Arthur
Bible study #3: Surprised by the Healer: Embracing Hope for Your Broken Story - by Linda Dillow and Dr. Juli Slattery
First off, I'm still in the middle of bible study #2 and just started #3 last week (I got the book today). All I can say is oh. my. goodness.
Y'all, I read Surprised by the Healer all today! It's composed of 9 women's stories of sexual brokenness, of one type or another, and I could not read it fast enough. I plumb gobbled it up! It took me all of about 5.5 hours to complete, with bathroom and Facebook breaks (because these stories are all intense), and I completed it all in an evening. Granted, there is a bible study with questions that is at the end of the book, that I haven't started on, but I read all of the stories through.
The Quest had me wrestling, sobbing, yelling, angry, and fighting to come closer to G-d. He broke down walls, let me have my tantrums, but He didn't let me stay there in the anger. My ladies at bible study prayed for healing for me after the second or third week of me going to my counselor overwhelmed, and He started healing me in more tangible ways. The ladies didn't know what I needed healing from. They initially didn't know how He had healed me when I came back thanking them for praying. Last week, for the first time, I shared a bit more of my story with them and He extended even more healing to me through that. This bible study is the exact bible study I needed at this time in my life. It wouldn't have helped any earlier, and L-rd knows I needed to not wait any longer. It is the beginning of a season of true healing and grace for me, and it is still difficult, but the lines of communication are no longer muffled between the Good L-rd and I (muffled because of walls I put up, obviously He doesn't put up walls!)
Anointed, Transformed, Redeemed is a study I am still working through. G-d is allowing me to take a deeper look at the life of David, and the mistakes he made, while also seeing why he was called "a man after G-d's own heart". As mentioned in the study, "not all devastation begins with sin" (slight paraphrase because the "quote" was solely based on my limited memory). G-d brings us through pain and tribulation that is sometimes a result of sin, but sometimes it's simply a result of other people choosing evil and you just so happen to be the one that gets hurt. L-rd knows I've sinned a lot in my life, but sometimes, not every bad thing that happens to me is my fault. I didn't deserve the assaults, the rape, the abuse, the problems. I didn't ask for them and I certainly didn't make anyone hurt me the way that they did. Unfortunately, I was unable to make better choices to prevent these things from happening, but I was also not well equipped, and so I'm struggling to show myself grace for fighting with my limited defense choices.
Folks, these bible studies have allowed G-d to awaken a deep desire to know Him that has been hidden away for years. Surprised by the Healer mentions that pain can be a good thing. Pain can allow you to come to the end of yourself, to let you understand brokenness so that you can actually understand healing and love. Pain can knock you out of your rut, your routine "religious/Christian/perfect/faith-filled" life into a life of true faith, true intimacy with G-d, and true devotion. Only when you have experienced pain can you truly understand why it is that you need G-d and how He provides for you. Intimacy is something I so crave; from friends, relationships, family, G-d. I don't like the surface-level questions and answers. When I ask how you are, I want to know how you are. I want to know your struggles, your joys, your real-life miracles. I want to be able to see how G-d is working in your life, and how you have been able to overcome the unthinkable. I want to have in-depth discussions of what G-d is speaking to you about, what He is showing you in the Word, and how you are applying that to your life. I want to be able to walk beside you in life and be able to glean wisdom from your life, and you can maybe glean some wisdom from mine. I want the kind of intimacy where G-d comes and sits at the coffee table with us, and infuses our time with the highest of highs, because He is walking with us and letting us learn through our lows.
I'm so sick of talking about clothes, the weather, if I'm dating anyone right now, and how my family is.
I want to know people.
I want people to know me.
I just want to know that the struggles I've faced were not faced in vain and alone. I want to know that come kind of good can come from the pain I've experienced. I want to know that my story has either prevented someone else from experiencing the same things I have, or that my story is able to bring comfort and healing to someone who has already walked through something similar.
I want to know that this is not all for nothing. That something good can come from this mess.
I want to know that I will not die, keeping secrets buried with me, that could have helped someone. Anyone. Even if it's a single person, in the entirety of time, at least it was of benefit to them.
I need to know that there is something more to all of this suffering. And my story is not even close to being the worst I've read or heard from others!!!
How can I be used to help in healing others? I haven't experienced the worst of pains, but the pain I have is the worst I've survived. How am I supposed to be able to speak life into others? How can my life be used to bring any comfort or support to someone else? How can G-d use a little baby nurse to do His work?
I feel absolutely inadequate to do much of anything. I don't even know how to keep friends for any length of time because I push them away or I attracted the types of people that only hang out with me while I am beneficial to them. How is that supposed to be any help if relationships aren't my strong suit? Don't even get me started on dating or marriage!!!
I want G-d to use my story, my life. I just can't imagine how He'll do it.
And yet, I feel called to something bigger.
Maybe I'm just one of the few that have found bible studies that have caused me to question many things that have held fast as "truths" in my life. I've been a part of a couple of studies now, that have shaken me thoroughly. All for good, but it's been a rough ride, nonetheless.
I've wrestled with G-d. I've sobbed uncontrollably. I've begun to hope for a fresh start and a newness in my walk. Most of all, I've discovered that many of the "truths" I've learned throughout my life have been nothing more than deep seated lies that I, unfortunately, clung to because it was all I had.
Bible study #1: The Quest: An Excursion Toward Intimacy with God - by Beth Moore
Bible study #2: Anointed, Transformed, Redeemed: A Study of David - by Priscilla Shirer, Beth Moore, and Kay Arthur
Bible study #3: Surprised by the Healer: Embracing Hope for Your Broken Story - by Linda Dillow and Dr. Juli Slattery
First off, I'm still in the middle of bible study #2 and just started #3 last week (I got the book today). All I can say is oh. my. goodness.
Y'all, I read Surprised by the Healer all today! It's composed of 9 women's stories of sexual brokenness, of one type or another, and I could not read it fast enough. I plumb gobbled it up! It took me all of about 5.5 hours to complete, with bathroom and Facebook breaks (because these stories are all intense), and I completed it all in an evening. Granted, there is a bible study with questions that is at the end of the book, that I haven't started on, but I read all of the stories through.
The Quest had me wrestling, sobbing, yelling, angry, and fighting to come closer to G-d. He broke down walls, let me have my tantrums, but He didn't let me stay there in the anger. My ladies at bible study prayed for healing for me after the second or third week of me going to my counselor overwhelmed, and He started healing me in more tangible ways. The ladies didn't know what I needed healing from. They initially didn't know how He had healed me when I came back thanking them for praying. Last week, for the first time, I shared a bit more of my story with them and He extended even more healing to me through that. This bible study is the exact bible study I needed at this time in my life. It wouldn't have helped any earlier, and L-rd knows I needed to not wait any longer. It is the beginning of a season of true healing and grace for me, and it is still difficult, but the lines of communication are no longer muffled between the Good L-rd and I (muffled because of walls I put up, obviously He doesn't put up walls!)
Anointed, Transformed, Redeemed is a study I am still working through. G-d is allowing me to take a deeper look at the life of David, and the mistakes he made, while also seeing why he was called "a man after G-d's own heart". As mentioned in the study, "not all devastation begins with sin" (slight paraphrase because the "quote" was solely based on my limited memory). G-d brings us through pain and tribulation that is sometimes a result of sin, but sometimes it's simply a result of other people choosing evil and you just so happen to be the one that gets hurt. L-rd knows I've sinned a lot in my life, but sometimes, not every bad thing that happens to me is my fault. I didn't deserve the assaults, the rape, the abuse, the problems. I didn't ask for them and I certainly didn't make anyone hurt me the way that they did. Unfortunately, I was unable to make better choices to prevent these things from happening, but I was also not well equipped, and so I'm struggling to show myself grace for fighting with my limited defense choices.
Folks, these bible studies have allowed G-d to awaken a deep desire to know Him that has been hidden away for years. Surprised by the Healer mentions that pain can be a good thing. Pain can allow you to come to the end of yourself, to let you understand brokenness so that you can actually understand healing and love. Pain can knock you out of your rut, your routine "religious/Christian/perfect/faith-filled" life into a life of true faith, true intimacy with G-d, and true devotion. Only when you have experienced pain can you truly understand why it is that you need G-d and how He provides for you. Intimacy is something I so crave; from friends, relationships, family, G-d. I don't like the surface-level questions and answers. When I ask how you are, I want to know how you are. I want to know your struggles, your joys, your real-life miracles. I want to be able to see how G-d is working in your life, and how you have been able to overcome the unthinkable. I want to have in-depth discussions of what G-d is speaking to you about, what He is showing you in the Word, and how you are applying that to your life. I want to be able to walk beside you in life and be able to glean wisdom from your life, and you can maybe glean some wisdom from mine. I want the kind of intimacy where G-d comes and sits at the coffee table with us, and infuses our time with the highest of highs, because He is walking with us and letting us learn through our lows.
I'm so sick of talking about clothes, the weather, if I'm dating anyone right now, and how my family is.
I want to know people.
I want people to know me.
I just want to know that the struggles I've faced were not faced in vain and alone. I want to know that come kind of good can come from the pain I've experienced. I want to know that my story has either prevented someone else from experiencing the same things I have, or that my story is able to bring comfort and healing to someone who has already walked through something similar.
I want to know that this is not all for nothing. That something good can come from this mess.
I want to know that I will not die, keeping secrets buried with me, that could have helped someone. Anyone. Even if it's a single person, in the entirety of time, at least it was of benefit to them.
I need to know that there is something more to all of this suffering. And my story is not even close to being the worst I've read or heard from others!!!
How can I be used to help in healing others? I haven't experienced the worst of pains, but the pain I have is the worst I've survived. How am I supposed to be able to speak life into others? How can my life be used to bring any comfort or support to someone else? How can G-d use a little baby nurse to do His work?
I feel absolutely inadequate to do much of anything. I don't even know how to keep friends for any length of time because I push them away or I attracted the types of people that only hang out with me while I am beneficial to them. How is that supposed to be any help if relationships aren't my strong suit? Don't even get me started on dating or marriage!!!
I want G-d to use my story, my life. I just can't imagine how He'll do it.
And yet, I feel called to something bigger.
Wednesday, February 7, 2018
Open Letter to Best Friend
Dear Best Friend,
I recently texted you after 3 months of not talking (my decision). The text was a looooooong apology. I apologized for mixed signals, not sticking to my boundaries, for not being a good friend when you've been so supportive in the past. I told you I have missed you and I have missed having my "best friend" around in a time of great need. The apologies were many, and long, and heartfelt.
What did you text back? You told me you didn't know what to say but that you've missed me too. Then, you gave me a rundown of your last 3 months of life.
I can appreciate that. I can understand wanting to move on and pretend like nothing happened. I get it, I'm not dumb. Plus, I know how guys work and how your brain works because I've studied guys and I know you. I've been around you and talking with you about the deep things of life for 5+ years. I figured you out. You tell me that all the time.
You then proceeded to make jokes and say "we should do it again" and referred to it as "a night of fun". That's when I went from disappointed that you didn't feel the need to acknowledge my pain from the apologies, to beyond angry and my blood went boiling. You had the nerve to shove it in my face that something that has caused me so much pain did, in fact, happen. And then you're going to minimize it and make me feel cheap by calling it a "night of fun" and say that we should "do it again" since we probably won't have a friendship the way we had before.
Fuck you.
I cried in your car. I have explained to you how much this hurt me. I have told you that I don't remember a cursed thing about that night and that I was upset with the decisions you made against my wished and my plans. And you want to make jokes at my expense and expect me to not be upset?!? No. No. No. No. NO.
I don't know why I feel the need to apologize over and over. I don't understand it myself. Probably some disfunction that I also feel the need to compulsively apologize for.
When you begin texting me, like nothing has changed, and I come up with the idea that we stop talking again, don't be surprised. Don't be upset, don't expect anything less. There's a good chance I'm just going to block you again without saying anything. I've tried the friends thing. I've tried to move on, and you make jokes at my expense. You ignored my boundaries. You continued to push me after I was already crying, hyperventilating, and freaking out. It was enough to even freak you out. You took advantage of someone who you knew was already hurting and who had been very clear. You broke my very fragile trust and then decided that I am not worth the dirt on your shoes. I mean nothing to you. I can take the hint.
Foolish me believed that you had my best interest in mind. I was dumb enough to believe that I could forgive and move past and that you would be sensitive to my hurting that I fucking spelled out for you.
Man alive, I'm such an idiot sometimes.
I hope you have a nice life.
Signed,
A girl trying to allow G-d to make Beauty from these Ashes
I recently texted you after 3 months of not talking (my decision). The text was a looooooong apology. I apologized for mixed signals, not sticking to my boundaries, for not being a good friend when you've been so supportive in the past. I told you I have missed you and I have missed having my "best friend" around in a time of great need. The apologies were many, and long, and heartfelt.
What did you text back? You told me you didn't know what to say but that you've missed me too. Then, you gave me a rundown of your last 3 months of life.
I can appreciate that. I can understand wanting to move on and pretend like nothing happened. I get it, I'm not dumb. Plus, I know how guys work and how your brain works because I've studied guys and I know you. I've been around you and talking with you about the deep things of life for 5+ years. I figured you out. You tell me that all the time.
You then proceeded to make jokes and say "we should do it again" and referred to it as "a night of fun". That's when I went from disappointed that you didn't feel the need to acknowledge my pain from the apologies, to beyond angry and my blood went boiling. You had the nerve to shove it in my face that something that has caused me so much pain did, in fact, happen. And then you're going to minimize it and make me feel cheap by calling it a "night of fun" and say that we should "do it again" since we probably won't have a friendship the way we had before.
Fuck you.
I cried in your car. I have explained to you how much this hurt me. I have told you that I don't remember a cursed thing about that night and that I was upset with the decisions you made against my wished and my plans. And you want to make jokes at my expense and expect me to not be upset?!? No. No. No. No. NO.
I don't know why I feel the need to apologize over and over. I don't understand it myself. Probably some disfunction that I also feel the need to compulsively apologize for.
When you begin texting me, like nothing has changed, and I come up with the idea that we stop talking again, don't be surprised. Don't be upset, don't expect anything less. There's a good chance I'm just going to block you again without saying anything. I've tried the friends thing. I've tried to move on, and you make jokes at my expense. You ignored my boundaries. You continued to push me after I was already crying, hyperventilating, and freaking out. It was enough to even freak you out. You took advantage of someone who you knew was already hurting and who had been very clear. You broke my very fragile trust and then decided that I am not worth the dirt on your shoes. I mean nothing to you. I can take the hint.
Foolish me believed that you had my best interest in mind. I was dumb enough to believe that I could forgive and move past and that you would be sensitive to my hurting that I fucking spelled out for you.
Man alive, I'm such an idiot sometimes.
I hope you have a nice life.
Signed,
A girl trying to allow G-d to make Beauty from these Ashes
Saturday, December 2, 2017
Dating Blessings
Blessings? For dating? From a website???
Yeah, I stumbled upon this list of 49 blessings for dating on aish.com and they are inspiring.
I love the way that judaism sends people off with blessings for each aspect of their life. Growing up in church, it seemed we prayed to counter-act "bad" things from happening. But in Judaism, there is a fundamental striving to focus on what is going well, how to keep things going well, and how to be in the moment. there is also a huge focus on... blessings.
With my confusion around dating growing by the day, having started several years ago with a middle school friend who asked me out (he got married senior year of high school and now has 3 beautiful children and works hard to provide well for his family). Dating has become a very dark subject in my life.
These blessings not only bring in G-d to the concept of dating, but they provide strength, positivity, and encouragement through the process.
I hope these blessing touch your heart, and help, the way they have helped me.
"The Dating Coach's 49 Blessing for the New Year"
Yeah, I stumbled upon this list of 49 blessings for dating on aish.com and they are inspiring.
I love the way that judaism sends people off with blessings for each aspect of their life. Growing up in church, it seemed we prayed to counter-act "bad" things from happening. But in Judaism, there is a fundamental striving to focus on what is going well, how to keep things going well, and how to be in the moment. there is also a huge focus on... blessings.
With my confusion around dating growing by the day, having started several years ago with a middle school friend who asked me out (he got married senior year of high school and now has 3 beautiful children and works hard to provide well for his family). Dating has become a very dark subject in my life.
These blessings not only bring in G-d to the concept of dating, but they provide strength, positivity, and encouragement through the process.
I hope these blessing touch your heart, and help, the way they have helped me.
"The Dating Coach's 49 Blessing for the New Year"
- May you answer the door when opportunity knocks.
- May you love your life.
- May you soon gain something you've always wanted.
- May you know when to hold on and not be afraid when it's time to let go.
- May inspiration strike at just the right moment.
- May you be satisfied with being perfectly imperfect.
- May you explore new options and open yourself to new possibilities.
- May the challenges you face strengthen your core.
- May your false beliefs evaporate and may you replace them with words of truth.
- May you have time in your week to visit someone in need.
- May you wear your smile, no matter how difficult today seems.
- May your mind be filled with great ideas.
- May you let go of something you no longer need.
- May you overcome what is holding you back.
- May your failures lead to success.
- May you embrace and loving accept your body.
- May you schedule your time wisely.
- May you invite someone new into your world.
- May you increase your confidence and boost your self-esteem.
- May you laugh easily and often.
- May you have the strength to put forth enough effort to get what you want.
- May you be blessed with an abundance of love.
- May you manifest your future by living as if it is already your reality.
- May you receive encouraging words that elevate you.
- May you be motivated to set and reach a new goal.
- May your life be infused with meaning and purpose.
- May you have strength, courage and wisdom to do the right thing at the right time.
- May you be free of financial burdens.
- May you hear what others say and more importantly understand what they mean.
- May you redirect angry energy and use it as fuel towards something positive.
- May you see clearly what you are meant to see and turn away from things not meant for your eyes.
- May you know the right questions to ask and may you be open to receiving the answers.
- May your words, actions or presence bring comfort to someone who is struggling.
- May your eyes be wide open and may you clearly see the messages that are before you.
- May you see clearly the obstacles that are before you and may you steer clear of any challenges.
- May you strengthen yourself, both body and soul.
- May you carry your physical and spiritual loads gracefully.
- May you find something wonderful to do this year that inspires you and connects you to great people.
- May many singles find their soul mate and be satisfied with their choice.
- May those in need of healing recover completely, mind, body and soul.
- May your senses be awakened by a pleasing surprise.
- May you find the perfect place to call home.
- May you visit exceptional places.
- May you be satisfied in being uniquely you.
- May the efforts you make yield the results you desire.
- May you have a good today and a better tomorrow.
- May you find your purpose in the world and pursue it with passion.
- May you harness the wonderful power within you.
- May you have a huge breakthrough!
And let us say Amen.
May God bless our lives with bountiful blessings for the new year.
Shana tova.
Blessings,
BA
Tuesday, October 17, 2017
Sleepless in... Just Sleepless
Instead of sleeping, as I should be for my day shift Labor and Delivery shift tomorrow, I'm laying here in bed with my mind racing.
I let Best Friend know that I need to be friends, and nothing more, because I am having a hard time. He took it rough, but he seemed gracious enough. Next day, he asked me over. He was in a terrible mood, looked exhausted, and he snapped at me a few times. I knew I shouldn't have gone over, but I was confused when he invited me, so I went. Bad choice, I should have trusted my gut.
He keeps texting me every once in a while, trying to pretend like he's not hurting. I know that he is. I am too, just not in the same way.
He brought up that I don't seem okay tonight, as we were casually texting. I wish that our conversations didn't just happen over the phone, where we're just reading words on a screen instead of able to listen to inflection and be able to clarify things as they come up. Instead, we choose the stupid route of sending off sentences at a time, then waiting minutes, to respond with a few more sentences. A 30 minutes conversation could go was faster, and way better in person, but we drag it out over a few very painful days.
He doesn't understand why I can't just "let my walls down and let him in". Dude, I don't even know why I can't do that! It doesn't make any sense to me! I don't know why I can't figure out dating. Why I can't get past this shit. Why I can't just be normal and have a fucking relationship where I don't end up in another level of PTSD or I end up hurting others because I'm in my survival PTSD brain. I can't figure it out! That's why I'm in counseling.
I guess I have an attachment disorder. Who'da thunk it?
Maybe I am supposed to just be single. I came to terms with that until Best Friend decided being friends wasn't enough, and then I slowly talked myself into thinking about dating again. Then I told a couple of friends that are always worried about me finding someone so that we can "double date" that I kissed Best Friend and they got all excited.
I know that relationships are NOT about making my friends happy, but somewhere along the line, I got confused and stopped thinking. That ended me in an "almost" relationship and that's where I shut down again and started regressing down the wanting to smoke line again... My anxiety came back... I started having worries and nightmares again... I started in with other self-destructive behaviors (I did not start cutting again, don't worry)...
When I told my counselor about Best Friend, I was excited, but reserved. That was about 3-4 weeks ago. When I told her about him this week, and how I was regressing, she confirmed that it was not fair for him and that for my sanity, I needed to talk with him. She encouraged me to do it face-to-face, and I fully planned to do that. But he started texting me after my counseling session, and instead of just taking my "it went okay" text, he started probing for details. I know, it's none of his business. However, I shared with him that I was struggling. He asked if it was because of how we were progressing, and I said "kind of". Then he started apologizing, and he was convinced that he caused me to have flashbacks and caused all of this damage to me. I reassured him, it was not his fault.
His mom shared with him, just an hour before our conversation, that she was depressed. Had I known that, I would have handled my problem differently. I did not, however, know about their conversation about her struggles, so he got double dumped on by two ladies in his life. This sweet kid is very caring and it was just too much for him.
Therefore, when I saw him the next day and he looked exhausted and was snappy, I had a pretty good idea of why. And, unfortunately, he just confirmed my suspicions, all on his own. He's having a rough go of things right now.
He mentioned that everybody gets hurt by me, and it's true. I honestly don't think that dating is a good idea for me because it doesn't end well.
I let Best Friend know that I need to be friends, and nothing more, because I am having a hard time. He took it rough, but he seemed gracious enough. Next day, he asked me over. He was in a terrible mood, looked exhausted, and he snapped at me a few times. I knew I shouldn't have gone over, but I was confused when he invited me, so I went. Bad choice, I should have trusted my gut.
He keeps texting me every once in a while, trying to pretend like he's not hurting. I know that he is. I am too, just not in the same way.
He brought up that I don't seem okay tonight, as we were casually texting. I wish that our conversations didn't just happen over the phone, where we're just reading words on a screen instead of able to listen to inflection and be able to clarify things as they come up. Instead, we choose the stupid route of sending off sentences at a time, then waiting minutes, to respond with a few more sentences. A 30 minutes conversation could go was faster, and way better in person, but we drag it out over a few very painful days.
He doesn't understand why I can't just "let my walls down and let him in". Dude, I don't even know why I can't do that! It doesn't make any sense to me! I don't know why I can't figure out dating. Why I can't get past this shit. Why I can't just be normal and have a fucking relationship where I don't end up in another level of PTSD or I end up hurting others because I'm in my survival PTSD brain. I can't figure it out! That's why I'm in counseling.
I guess I have an attachment disorder. Who'da thunk it?
Maybe I am supposed to just be single. I came to terms with that until Best Friend decided being friends wasn't enough, and then I slowly talked myself into thinking about dating again. Then I told a couple of friends that are always worried about me finding someone so that we can "double date" that I kissed Best Friend and they got all excited.
I know that relationships are NOT about making my friends happy, but somewhere along the line, I got confused and stopped thinking. That ended me in an "almost" relationship and that's where I shut down again and started regressing down the wanting to smoke line again... My anxiety came back... I started having worries and nightmares again... I started in with other self-destructive behaviors (I did not start cutting again, don't worry)...
When I told my counselor about Best Friend, I was excited, but reserved. That was about 3-4 weeks ago. When I told her about him this week, and how I was regressing, she confirmed that it was not fair for him and that for my sanity, I needed to talk with him. She encouraged me to do it face-to-face, and I fully planned to do that. But he started texting me after my counseling session, and instead of just taking my "it went okay" text, he started probing for details. I know, it's none of his business. However, I shared with him that I was struggling. He asked if it was because of how we were progressing, and I said "kind of". Then he started apologizing, and he was convinced that he caused me to have flashbacks and caused all of this damage to me. I reassured him, it was not his fault.
His mom shared with him, just an hour before our conversation, that she was depressed. Had I known that, I would have handled my problem differently. I did not, however, know about their conversation about her struggles, so he got double dumped on by two ladies in his life. This sweet kid is very caring and it was just too much for him.
Therefore, when I saw him the next day and he looked exhausted and was snappy, I had a pretty good idea of why. And, unfortunately, he just confirmed my suspicions, all on his own. He's having a rough go of things right now.
He mentioned that everybody gets hurt by me, and it's true. I honestly don't think that dating is a good idea for me because it doesn't end well.
Thursday, August 24, 2017
Hauntingly Familiar
As you might well know, from my many posts, I have moved back to the city I lived in during college (a.k.a. College Town, as named for my blog).
This also just so happens to be the city in which I lived through the worst year of my life, 2015.
2015 was a terrible year, filled with 2 relationships that were exceedingly toxic and abusive. I was sexually assaulted/raped, mentally imprisoned, physically abused, and otherwise harmed in most ways possible. Through these occurrences, I developed terrible depression, complex PTSD (which was made worse by my friend's suicide the year prior), and I participated in smoking and self-harm as ways of attempting to cope.
Often, in my experiences as a nurse, and general experiences as a human, I have been slapped in the face with comments, made by unknowing people.
Usually these include jokes about suicide or self-harm. Other times they are people lying about sexual assault and rape in order to remain out of trouble or to get attention. And still, there are instances that fall in and out of that range.
Recently, my ability to cope was tested as someone mentioned to me that "they don't believe most rape victims have actually been raped. Most of the time these girls didn't say 'no' strongly enough or contributed to the drinking and merely had sex that they regretted in the morning."
*deep breath*
For those of you who don't know my full story, just know that these are two very triggering statements for me 1) that the 'no' was not forceful enough and 2) that because the girl was drunk, it is automatically her fault because she was drinking.
Let me preface this by saying that sometimes people lie. Maybe someone is lying about having sex and regretting it in the morning and they feel that claiming it as "rape" is going to lessen their guilt or somehow get them sympathy. Let me also say that I have a tendency to believe people if they claim they have been assaulted, because if it's false then it'll eat away at them as they meet true victims. If it doesn't, then hey, not my problem. I would rather believe people and treat them with extra gentleness, than to assume that everyone is lying.
With that being said, the details of my story often keep me up at night. I have worked for years at grounding techniques and trying to remember all of the events that I unfortunately survived over the course of living through the hell I experienced in 2015.
My attackers were boyfriends. With 1, I question whether my "no" was strong enough, because I froze. I told him "no" about 50 times, maybe more. However, my body was frozen apart from moving his hands away and trying to keep myself safe. There are about 15-20 minutes that I cannot account for because my brain shut off and I had a sort of "flashback" but I didn't go into the past, I just went somewhere else in my brain. I remember my thoughts through that unaccounted time, but I cannot remember reality.
I struggle with knowing I could have done something, but I couldn't, all at the same time. Especially after taking self-defense, I know that my desires to kick him in the face and run, were absolutely acceptable and encouraged behaviors because of what he was doing. But I didn't do it, because I couldn't grasp the gravity of the situation in that particular moment.
My second boyfriend (of about 2.5 months at the time) knowingly got me drunk and likely drugged me. We had been planning to go out dancing and drinking. Like a fool, I told him my limit was 3 drinks, and asked him to hold my drink when I went out to dance. It was a night where we were given 2 free shots of various whiskey to encourage people to buy these brands. This, along with him getting me refill after refill (without my knowledge) and then encouraging me to chug, ended up causing me to drink too much. He knew I trusted him, and he knew I wasn't able to keep track of him being gone when I was dancing with my friends. He had been charming and fun for the few months we were together, until that night. The next memory I have was waking up next to him, naked, in a hotel room. I didn't know where I was, what had happened, or how to get home.
This is a struggle for me because I was counting my own drinks. I know to not drink too much. I know when to cut myself off. I trusted him. He claimed he wanted to help me after having been hurt by my first boyfriend. He claimed to have "over-the-moon" feelings for me. He claimed to want to marry me... after only a couple months of dating. We had had our fights, but he typically ended up working out a decent deal to "compromise" with me. After that night, he fought with me on religion, virginity, giving my body to him (he even claimed scripture for this, even though he is not a believer), and he fought me on everything.
With the two comments made about rape/sexual assault victims in relation to lying, saying "no", and drinking, I am at a war. I war within myself nearly every day whether I was truly abused the way I have had to convince myself I was, or if I'm making these things up and merely regret having sex with guys I hadn't even planned to kiss. Which, is a form of assault in it's own right, technically. But those are stories for another day.
And so, I lost hours of precious sleep, that I already don't get enough of, battling in my own head over words spoken out of unknowing. In the conversation, in which those comments were made, the person I spoke with prefaced the conversation saying they "had not had anyone in their family raped" and that these were just their findings in their limited control group of people who had claimed to have been assaulted/raped (a group of maybe 2 people). So, at least they acknowledged that. But it still stings.
It stings to not even believe my own memory, because of somebody's opinion about something that has never personally effected them or someone they love and know dearly. It stings to have to battle in my own head and lose sleep over such small comments. It stings to not be able to easily discern reality from nightmares, because your life is worse than your worst nightmare.
Grounding is exhausting in these situations and for someone who has been working 6 days a week, between 2 new jobs and learning all of the "new", it is especially difficult to bring myself back to the facts. To prove to myself that the labels of "rape" and "abuse" given by my counselor truly fit the relationships I had. Then, for days, my brain is recounting and dredging up all of the examples it can muster, and even some I had forgotten, in order to prove to me that I am not "crazy" for believing in my traumatic past.
And so the past haunts the present. It lurks in the corner of every new adventure. It tests out every new friendship, and holds it to standards that are unbeknownst to me. All I get are the results of the test: don't trust anyone and keep it to myself.
I don't talk about my past anymore. The more new people I meet, and the more I go on with life, the fewer people I tell. I told nobody in Small Town, and I don't plan on telling anyone here. The only people that will know, already know, and those were even probably not great choices. Thing is, it's not fair to keep it to yourself and it's not healthy. Counselors can't be the only people to ever know things like this, but I can't go around telling every random person I befriend about my traumatic past either.
The "discussions" started, the fights I wage, and the debate about what constitutes rape and abuse are conversations I simply try to avoid. Changing the subject or nodding along and zoning out seem to work the best for me. However, it seems that's all I do anymore...
And so it goes. I bandage those hurt feelings and move on. I don't blame the lips that spill the words. I don't abandon the people who think that way to begin with. All I can do is hope to recover from my many returns to the deep pits, and keep on pushing along.
Maybe one day things will get better.
This also just so happens to be the city in which I lived through the worst year of my life, 2015.
2015 was a terrible year, filled with 2 relationships that were exceedingly toxic and abusive. I was sexually assaulted/raped, mentally imprisoned, physically abused, and otherwise harmed in most ways possible. Through these occurrences, I developed terrible depression, complex PTSD (which was made worse by my friend's suicide the year prior), and I participated in smoking and self-harm as ways of attempting to cope.
Often, in my experiences as a nurse, and general experiences as a human, I have been slapped in the face with comments, made by unknowing people.
Usually these include jokes about suicide or self-harm. Other times they are people lying about sexual assault and rape in order to remain out of trouble or to get attention. And still, there are instances that fall in and out of that range.
Recently, my ability to cope was tested as someone mentioned to me that "they don't believe most rape victims have actually been raped. Most of the time these girls didn't say 'no' strongly enough or contributed to the drinking and merely had sex that they regretted in the morning."
*deep breath*
For those of you who don't know my full story, just know that these are two very triggering statements for me 1) that the 'no' was not forceful enough and 2) that because the girl was drunk, it is automatically her fault because she was drinking.
Let me preface this by saying that sometimes people lie. Maybe someone is lying about having sex and regretting it in the morning and they feel that claiming it as "rape" is going to lessen their guilt or somehow get them sympathy. Let me also say that I have a tendency to believe people if they claim they have been assaulted, because if it's false then it'll eat away at them as they meet true victims. If it doesn't, then hey, not my problem. I would rather believe people and treat them with extra gentleness, than to assume that everyone is lying.
With that being said, the details of my story often keep me up at night. I have worked for years at grounding techniques and trying to remember all of the events that I unfortunately survived over the course of living through the hell I experienced in 2015.
My attackers were boyfriends. With 1, I question whether my "no" was strong enough, because I froze. I told him "no" about 50 times, maybe more. However, my body was frozen apart from moving his hands away and trying to keep myself safe. There are about 15-20 minutes that I cannot account for because my brain shut off and I had a sort of "flashback" but I didn't go into the past, I just went somewhere else in my brain. I remember my thoughts through that unaccounted time, but I cannot remember reality.
I struggle with knowing I could have done something, but I couldn't, all at the same time. Especially after taking self-defense, I know that my desires to kick him in the face and run, were absolutely acceptable and encouraged behaviors because of what he was doing. But I didn't do it, because I couldn't grasp the gravity of the situation in that particular moment.
My second boyfriend (of about 2.5 months at the time) knowingly got me drunk and likely drugged me. We had been planning to go out dancing and drinking. Like a fool, I told him my limit was 3 drinks, and asked him to hold my drink when I went out to dance. It was a night where we were given 2 free shots of various whiskey to encourage people to buy these brands. This, along with him getting me refill after refill (without my knowledge) and then encouraging me to chug, ended up causing me to drink too much. He knew I trusted him, and he knew I wasn't able to keep track of him being gone when I was dancing with my friends. He had been charming and fun for the few months we were together, until that night. The next memory I have was waking up next to him, naked, in a hotel room. I didn't know where I was, what had happened, or how to get home.
This is a struggle for me because I was counting my own drinks. I know to not drink too much. I know when to cut myself off. I trusted him. He claimed he wanted to help me after having been hurt by my first boyfriend. He claimed to have "over-the-moon" feelings for me. He claimed to want to marry me... after only a couple months of dating. We had had our fights, but he typically ended up working out a decent deal to "compromise" with me. After that night, he fought with me on religion, virginity, giving my body to him (he even claimed scripture for this, even though he is not a believer), and he fought me on everything.
With the two comments made about rape/sexual assault victims in relation to lying, saying "no", and drinking, I am at a war. I war within myself nearly every day whether I was truly abused the way I have had to convince myself I was, or if I'm making these things up and merely regret having sex with guys I hadn't even planned to kiss. Which, is a form of assault in it's own right, technically. But those are stories for another day.
And so, I lost hours of precious sleep, that I already don't get enough of, battling in my own head over words spoken out of unknowing. In the conversation, in which those comments were made, the person I spoke with prefaced the conversation saying they "had not had anyone in their family raped" and that these were just their findings in their limited control group of people who had claimed to have been assaulted/raped (a group of maybe 2 people). So, at least they acknowledged that. But it still stings.
It stings to not even believe my own memory, because of somebody's opinion about something that has never personally effected them or someone they love and know dearly. It stings to have to battle in my own head and lose sleep over such small comments. It stings to not be able to easily discern reality from nightmares, because your life is worse than your worst nightmare.
Grounding is exhausting in these situations and for someone who has been working 6 days a week, between 2 new jobs and learning all of the "new", it is especially difficult to bring myself back to the facts. To prove to myself that the labels of "rape" and "abuse" given by my counselor truly fit the relationships I had. Then, for days, my brain is recounting and dredging up all of the examples it can muster, and even some I had forgotten, in order to prove to me that I am not "crazy" for believing in my traumatic past.
And so the past haunts the present. It lurks in the corner of every new adventure. It tests out every new friendship, and holds it to standards that are unbeknownst to me. All I get are the results of the test: don't trust anyone and keep it to myself.
I don't talk about my past anymore. The more new people I meet, and the more I go on with life, the fewer people I tell. I told nobody in Small Town, and I don't plan on telling anyone here. The only people that will know, already know, and those were even probably not great choices. Thing is, it's not fair to keep it to yourself and it's not healthy. Counselors can't be the only people to ever know things like this, but I can't go around telling every random person I befriend about my traumatic past either.
The "discussions" started, the fights I wage, and the debate about what constitutes rape and abuse are conversations I simply try to avoid. Changing the subject or nodding along and zoning out seem to work the best for me. However, it seems that's all I do anymore...
And so it goes. I bandage those hurt feelings and move on. I don't blame the lips that spill the words. I don't abandon the people who think that way to begin with. All I can do is hope to recover from my many returns to the deep pits, and keep on pushing along.
Maybe one day things will get better.
Utterly Exhausted
For those of you that don't know, I am currently in the process of orienting to 2 hospitals. 1 hospital, I interviewed for L&D but got told that I would need to work Mom/Baby for awhile. The other hospital was scheduled for an interview the day I got the Mom/Baby offer, and that was for the NICU. Me, being my greedy self of not being able to see myself stay in Mom/Baby with no NICU baby interaction, I decided to propose working part-time at both places to the managers. Well... they accepted that bargain.
The manager for Mom/Baby told me I would work in that department for a year before being able to switch over, I told her that was absolutely too long. She countered with saying it might just be a few months (like 3-6ish months). This didn't sound great, but it sounded do-able with me also keeping my NICU critical care skills up to par.
Well, Tomorrow is finally my last day of charting class, a.k.a. my last orientation piece before going to total floor orientation. I can do floor orientation all the day long! It's the classroom nonsense that'll kill ya... slowly...
Well, I went to talk with my Mom/Baby manager about some scheduling troubles, and she offered me a L&D position, starting at the end of the month!!! OH. MY. GOSH!!! Thing is, it'll be full time instead of part time. My insurance is through the other hospital, and I can't leave the NICU, I just can't. So, am I crazy for thinking I can do 5 days a week between 2 critical care areas? Plus, the on-call shifts taking me up to 6-7 days each week!
I'm sustaining this crazy 6 days a week schedule right now, but I'm working days. I already know that working nights is a much bigger challenge when working so many "days" (shifts) in a row. That messed up circadian rhythm will actually slowly start to kill you.
I just don't know if I can do it. But I sure want to try it for awhile. Worst case scenario is that I go to PRN for NICU and keep full-time with L&D. Plus, I don't have on-call days for L&D until I complete the 3+ months of training required to begin in L&D. So, that helps for a few months to get my feet under me and my schedule ironed out a little bit.
I guess we'll see how it goes when I talk to the Mom/Baby slash L&D manager on Tuesday. She seems pretty excited to get me over to training in the field I actually wanted to be in an originally interviewed for. She actually took a similar road to me and started in Peds/PICU and transferred to L&D, but she worked both jobs at the same time for about a year or so! I think she liked that I was trying to do that and she understands the whole process and desire to do that "double specialty" type of nursing. It's like double majoring in college, except everybody thinks you're insane and you get even less sleep.
Problem is, I've been trying to find a house to rent so I can bring my dog with me. I would also need a roommate (or 2), so that my dog would have a friend while I'm working. She is currently staying with a friend of my mom's, who has another dog. This lady takes my dog for walks with her dog every day. She has a roommate that is home most of the time, except for maybe 3 hours a week (it seems like anyway, he doesn't work I don't think...). So, my dog has friends and another dog to hang out with all the time! Sometimes she even gets to go on a "field trip" to the lady's son's office because he owns his own business and hardly has customers to the office, he mostly goes out to remote locations for quotes and stuff.
So she has a really good set-up, compared to living with a night-shift nurse, who's exceedingly lazy on her days off and doesn't even get to play with her dog because she's too tired. I really feel like the worst puppy mom in the world! But I also feel terrible for leaving her at another person's house because I don't want her to feel abandoned. She gets so excited when we come to visit her! And then she goes into a depression when we leave again!!! It's too much for me to handle.
Times like these, I start to get upset that my parents aren't living together and able to house her and my brother. I get it, they were having lots of problems and it's not economical to afford a house with a backyard, just for the dog. But still, she's my dog. I picked her out, I have cared for her. She's been my best buddy since I was about 10 and I'm now 23 1/2.
I guess I'll talk it over with the lady keeping her, and I'll try to work it out with all of my managers to see what will happen. Mostly, it's a wait-and-see type of situation. The lady keeping my dog says she loves having my dog with her dog and it's not much different than her normal routine to have an extra puppy around. Plus, she appreciates the extra money every month. My current living situation is wonderful and is great while I am working so many crazy hours, and I don't have to do much since I have a roommate that does most everything around his house.
My heart says YES!!! My brain says I could probably make it work, but I'll be beyond exhausted, but I need the experience and my resume will be beyond great! My body says are you insane? I'm barely running as it is, AND WE'RE ON DAYS!!! So, mostly, I'm leaning towards the hard YES!!!!!!!!!!! But I'll talk with my manager Tuesday and discuss it a bit more.
Time to go pray! This will be quite the interesting adventure, should I choose to embark.
The manager for Mom/Baby told me I would work in that department for a year before being able to switch over, I told her that was absolutely too long. She countered with saying it might just be a few months (like 3-6ish months). This didn't sound great, but it sounded do-able with me also keeping my NICU critical care skills up to par.
Well, Tomorrow is finally my last day of charting class, a.k.a. my last orientation piece before going to total floor orientation. I can do floor orientation all the day long! It's the classroom nonsense that'll kill ya... slowly...
Well, I went to talk with my Mom/Baby manager about some scheduling troubles, and she offered me a L&D position, starting at the end of the month!!! OH. MY. GOSH!!! Thing is, it'll be full time instead of part time. My insurance is through the other hospital, and I can't leave the NICU, I just can't. So, am I crazy for thinking I can do 5 days a week between 2 critical care areas? Plus, the on-call shifts taking me up to 6-7 days each week!
I'm sustaining this crazy 6 days a week schedule right now, but I'm working days. I already know that working nights is a much bigger challenge when working so many "days" (shifts) in a row. That messed up circadian rhythm will actually slowly start to kill you.
I just don't know if I can do it. But I sure want to try it for awhile. Worst case scenario is that I go to PRN for NICU and keep full-time with L&D. Plus, I don't have on-call days for L&D until I complete the 3+ months of training required to begin in L&D. So, that helps for a few months to get my feet under me and my schedule ironed out a little bit.
I guess we'll see how it goes when I talk to the Mom/Baby slash L&D manager on Tuesday. She seems pretty excited to get me over to training in the field I actually wanted to be in an originally interviewed for. She actually took a similar road to me and started in Peds/PICU and transferred to L&D, but she worked both jobs at the same time for about a year or so! I think she liked that I was trying to do that and she understands the whole process and desire to do that "double specialty" type of nursing. It's like double majoring in college, except everybody thinks you're insane and you get even less sleep.
Problem is, I've been trying to find a house to rent so I can bring my dog with me. I would also need a roommate (or 2), so that my dog would have a friend while I'm working. She is currently staying with a friend of my mom's, who has another dog. This lady takes my dog for walks with her dog every day. She has a roommate that is home most of the time, except for maybe 3 hours a week (it seems like anyway, he doesn't work I don't think...). So, my dog has friends and another dog to hang out with all the time! Sometimes she even gets to go on a "field trip" to the lady's son's office because he owns his own business and hardly has customers to the office, he mostly goes out to remote locations for quotes and stuff.
So she has a really good set-up, compared to living with a night-shift nurse, who's exceedingly lazy on her days off and doesn't even get to play with her dog because she's too tired. I really feel like the worst puppy mom in the world! But I also feel terrible for leaving her at another person's house because I don't want her to feel abandoned. She gets so excited when we come to visit her! And then she goes into a depression when we leave again!!! It's too much for me to handle.
Times like these, I start to get upset that my parents aren't living together and able to house her and my brother. I get it, they were having lots of problems and it's not economical to afford a house with a backyard, just for the dog. But still, she's my dog. I picked her out, I have cared for her. She's been my best buddy since I was about 10 and I'm now 23 1/2.
I guess I'll talk it over with the lady keeping her, and I'll try to work it out with all of my managers to see what will happen. Mostly, it's a wait-and-see type of situation. The lady keeping my dog says she loves having my dog with her dog and it's not much different than her normal routine to have an extra puppy around. Plus, she appreciates the extra money every month. My current living situation is wonderful and is great while I am working so many crazy hours, and I don't have to do much since I have a roommate that does most everything around his house.
My heart says YES!!! My brain says I could probably make it work, but I'll be beyond exhausted, but I need the experience and my resume will be beyond great! My body says are you insane? I'm barely running as it is, AND WE'RE ON DAYS!!! So, mostly, I'm leaning towards the hard YES!!!!!!!!!!! But I'll talk with my manager Tuesday and discuss it a bit more.
Time to go pray! This will be quite the interesting adventure, should I choose to embark.
Monday, February 27, 2017
Scared Sh*tless
Guys, I have started my grad school application. I am nervous beyond belief. The priority deadline was Feb 1, and I missed that by a couple days by the time I was looking seriously at the program. However, I have been emailing the program director and she has been very encouraging. I'm just not certain how straight forward they are being with me.
I want to know how many people are applying, how many get in, what my chances are for getting into the program with only a year of NICU experience, and all of the other questions swirling around in my head. Oh gosh, this is nerve wracking!
For the application only being $50, it's not that bad. However, do I have what it takes? I'm just a baby nurse with a passion for NICU, but I have this burning desire to go further in school and start getting changes started nation wide, or at least in whatever vicinity I'm in. If I could have been here practicing as a midwife, I could have saved lives! I could have saved babies and their mamas from having the terrible home births that ended up killing one or both of them. I'm not saying that home births are bad. I'm just saying home births with a midwife who has never been formally trained is dangerous and asking for trouble.
I want to change the way midwifery is seen in the US. I want to save the lives of moms and babies by preventing too many medical interventions while simultaneously having the training and supplies to provide necessary interventions to keep everyone safe.
Ugh, I feel so helpless.
I am presently terrified.
I am currently in need of another change. I feel like I could actually make a difference.
Oh L-rd, direct me in the ways you want me to go! Make my path straight and show me what it is I'm supposed to be doing!
Probably doesn't help that I've rewatched Call the Midwife on Netflix...
I want to know how many people are applying, how many get in, what my chances are for getting into the program with only a year of NICU experience, and all of the other questions swirling around in my head. Oh gosh, this is nerve wracking!
For the application only being $50, it's not that bad. However, do I have what it takes? I'm just a baby nurse with a passion for NICU, but I have this burning desire to go further in school and start getting changes started nation wide, or at least in whatever vicinity I'm in. If I could have been here practicing as a midwife, I could have saved lives! I could have saved babies and their mamas from having the terrible home births that ended up killing one or both of them. I'm not saying that home births are bad. I'm just saying home births with a midwife who has never been formally trained is dangerous and asking for trouble.
I want to change the way midwifery is seen in the US. I want to save the lives of moms and babies by preventing too many medical interventions while simultaneously having the training and supplies to provide necessary interventions to keep everyone safe.
Ugh, I feel so helpless.
I am presently terrified.
I am currently in need of another change. I feel like I could actually make a difference.
Oh L-rd, direct me in the ways you want me to go! Make my path straight and show me what it is I'm supposed to be doing!
Probably doesn't help that I've rewatched Call the Midwife on Netflix...
Friday, November 11, 2016
Happy... Content... ???... as a Single
For a good chunk of the last decade, I have been wondering what it would be like to be in a relationship, and I had been desiring to be married. Recently, as in the past few days, I have realized that I am coming into my own skin as a single girl.
I went through 2, count them 2, relationships and both were in 2015. Well, there was this "trial run" with Best Friend, but I don't fully count that...
If you have read any of my posts, you would know that most of them are about the grieving process and healing after these terrible "relationships". Along with the struggles of the pieces left after I left my two boyfriends, you may see that I still struggle with the desire to be in a relationship, get married, and somehow find someone to love and have companionship in life.
Lately, however, I have been getting used to my time alone. I have friends at work, family to call when I'm lonely, and my alone time is fairly nice and something I often enjoy in the day or two directly after working.
Nearly a year after finding freedom from the evilness that engulfed my life for nearly a year, I am finding peace from being alone. There are moments where I am a bit lonely, but it is not nearly as difficult as it had been when I first moved to Small Town, away from my friends and family in Home State.
I can often remain happy, or at least content, until I am reminded of the girls who get the opportunity to marry a guy who treats them with respect and waits until marriage to sleep with her. I get sad that my reality is so very different.
Yet, I am grateful that I have strength to move somewhere that is several states away, by MYSELF. I have been through things, and with people, that should have and tried to kill me. I made it out of those things alive. I have a life, by myself, between living with my parents and making a future for myself. I know what it is like to be so very alone that I wander around a store, just to be around people. I also know what it is like to be able to depend on myself to make it in this world, in a world where my generation can't even get their own driver's license at the age of 21 without having their parents present, because their parents have done everything for them for the entirety of their lives. I am brave, and strong, and smart, and a survivor, and despite everything, the L-rd has allowed my heart to remain tender enough to cry with parents over the difficulty of their baby's condition. My heart aches for girls who have had to deal with my ex-boyfriends and the fact that these girls have lived a similar reality. My heart still breaks for people going through any type of tough situation, whether I have been through it or not.
I have learned that pride is something that is okay when done in the right way. I am so very proud and grateful for the way the L-rd has brought me through my traumas and difficult life circumstances. I still get upset and I'm still angry at what was done, but my heart has not hardened and I am presently content with my survival abilities up to this point.
For right now, I am okay being single and I feel that is an important milestone to be able to reach, for me.
I went through 2, count them 2, relationships and both were in 2015. Well, there was this "trial run" with Best Friend, but I don't fully count that...
If you have read any of my posts, you would know that most of them are about the grieving process and healing after these terrible "relationships". Along with the struggles of the pieces left after I left my two boyfriends, you may see that I still struggle with the desire to be in a relationship, get married, and somehow find someone to love and have companionship in life.
Lately, however, I have been getting used to my time alone. I have friends at work, family to call when I'm lonely, and my alone time is fairly nice and something I often enjoy in the day or two directly after working.
Nearly a year after finding freedom from the evilness that engulfed my life for nearly a year, I am finding peace from being alone. There are moments where I am a bit lonely, but it is not nearly as difficult as it had been when I first moved to Small Town, away from my friends and family in Home State.
I can often remain happy, or at least content, until I am reminded of the girls who get the opportunity to marry a guy who treats them with respect and waits until marriage to sleep with her. I get sad that my reality is so very different.
Yet, I am grateful that I have strength to move somewhere that is several states away, by MYSELF. I have been through things, and with people, that should have and tried to kill me. I made it out of those things alive. I have a life, by myself, between living with my parents and making a future for myself. I know what it is like to be so very alone that I wander around a store, just to be around people. I also know what it is like to be able to depend on myself to make it in this world, in a world where my generation can't even get their own driver's license at the age of 21 without having their parents present, because their parents have done everything for them for the entirety of their lives. I am brave, and strong, and smart, and a survivor, and despite everything, the L-rd has allowed my heart to remain tender enough to cry with parents over the difficulty of their baby's condition. My heart aches for girls who have had to deal with my ex-boyfriends and the fact that these girls have lived a similar reality. My heart still breaks for people going through any type of tough situation, whether I have been through it or not.
I have learned that pride is something that is okay when done in the right way. I am so very proud and grateful for the way the L-rd has brought me through my traumas and difficult life circumstances. I still get upset and I'm still angry at what was done, but my heart has not hardened and I am presently content with my survival abilities up to this point.
For right now, I am okay being single and I feel that is an important milestone to be able to reach, for me.
Saturday, November 5, 2016
LC'd
We have a "fun" term at my new hospital called "LC". It means I get to be on-call all night because there weren't enough babies for me to come into work, but they want me on stand-by just in case something comes up. Normally, they send out a text to see if anyone would prefer to take it. Tonight I got told.
I shouldn't complain, because it's nice to not have to worry about work for a night. However, I know lots of the girls who would love to have an LC night because they have kids and husbands and lives. Me, on the other hand, live to work right now. I have student loans coming up soon (like the next couple of weeks), and bills to pay... by myself. I don't have a spouse to cover me and working is not something that I do as a way to occupy myself or to gain accolades at various social gathering through the year.
No, I am blessed to be able to have a career that matches my desires to care for babies, but I also have to work in order to support myself. I live on a budget, and I have a dog who depends on me to give her food. Granted, I kinda forget to feed her occasionally, but she's not starving to death because I cannot afford to buy her food and she has a tendency to eat a lot of my food. She works it out.
Guys, I'm getting mildly frustrated with my new job. I love the work itself, it's just the politics of the new hospital that are going to kill me. Some days, I am convinced that I get the shitty assignments because I am a new employee and a baby nurse. I will take those with a smile, though I'm gritting my teeth. I suffer through the night and figure out a way to get all my work done without complaining because that is what they expect. Then, there are nights where I am almost certain I can see the rage in some nurse's eyes, and it's directed at me. Did I mention that I'm new? Did I also mention that many of the girls think the only reason I got the job is because my Mema is a NICU nurse at Small Town Hospital and her sister just so happens to be the Director of Nursing for our floor?...
So here I am, a newbie ripe for the hazing, with a target already on my back because my great-aunt gave me the job. Who cares that a HUGE hospital and university chain offered me an interview just after I had already accepted the job here? I didn't want to burn familial bridges by backing out all of a sudden. Who cares that I've been dreaming and working towards coming down here for THREE YEARS NOW!? What does it matter that I grit my teeth through all feedings being at the same time and being assigned three babies that should not be 1) assigned together and 2) each of them needs to be assigned alongside a super easy baby so that the nurse has any hope of getting through the day. I have had assignments all through orientation that the seasoned nurses refused to accept because they knew their day would suck and be impossible to make it through. The only reason I survived the day is because I was paired with a seasoned nurse that helped me through.
What happened to nurses not hazing the newbies? One of the blogs I read had a post about new nurses toughening up, not whining, and if life is so terrible at the hospital you are at, find another job. Thing is, they suckered me into signing a contract before I ever set foot on the floor... I'll know that next time, that's a trap. There's a reason they need nurses to sign on for a certain number of years and that is because their retention rates are CRAP!!! Why? Well, you've got 4 new nurses to the unit who are all thinking about quitting because the social aspect is complete shit. Charge nurses who will legitimately give you assignments out of spite and talk shit behind your back, only for other nurses to bring these awful details to your attention, to your face. That's just asking for trouble.
Yes, we are working with the DON on some of these issues. However, that brings up a whole new problem for me because if I go to her, they will think I'm being favorited and I will be completely screwed. So, I will stick to the method of sucking it up and dealing with it for 1-2 instances. Then, I will ask for a change of assignment and perhaps inform the other party that I feel I am being treated unfairly. Then, and only then, I will go to our manager. If it doesn't go anywhere by then, I'll go to my great-aunt.
Ugh, I'm fixin' to just call everybody out back and we can handle this like men. This middle school girl bullshit is enough to make a person move to another state.
I shouldn't complain, because it's nice to not have to worry about work for a night. However, I know lots of the girls who would love to have an LC night because they have kids and husbands and lives. Me, on the other hand, live to work right now. I have student loans coming up soon (like the next couple of weeks), and bills to pay... by myself. I don't have a spouse to cover me and working is not something that I do as a way to occupy myself or to gain accolades at various social gathering through the year.
No, I am blessed to be able to have a career that matches my desires to care for babies, but I also have to work in order to support myself. I live on a budget, and I have a dog who depends on me to give her food. Granted, I kinda forget to feed her occasionally, but she's not starving to death because I cannot afford to buy her food and she has a tendency to eat a lot of my food. She works it out.
Guys, I'm getting mildly frustrated with my new job. I love the work itself, it's just the politics of the new hospital that are going to kill me. Some days, I am convinced that I get the shitty assignments because I am a new employee and a baby nurse. I will take those with a smile, though I'm gritting my teeth. I suffer through the night and figure out a way to get all my work done without complaining because that is what they expect. Then, there are nights where I am almost certain I can see the rage in some nurse's eyes, and it's directed at me. Did I mention that I'm new? Did I also mention that many of the girls think the only reason I got the job is because my Mema is a NICU nurse at Small Town Hospital and her sister just so happens to be the Director of Nursing for our floor?...
So here I am, a newbie ripe for the hazing, with a target already on my back because my great-aunt gave me the job. Who cares that a HUGE hospital and university chain offered me an interview just after I had already accepted the job here? I didn't want to burn familial bridges by backing out all of a sudden. Who cares that I've been dreaming and working towards coming down here for THREE YEARS NOW!? What does it matter that I grit my teeth through all feedings being at the same time and being assigned three babies that should not be 1) assigned together and 2) each of them needs to be assigned alongside a super easy baby so that the nurse has any hope of getting through the day. I have had assignments all through orientation that the seasoned nurses refused to accept because they knew their day would suck and be impossible to make it through. The only reason I survived the day is because I was paired with a seasoned nurse that helped me through.
What happened to nurses not hazing the newbies? One of the blogs I read had a post about new nurses toughening up, not whining, and if life is so terrible at the hospital you are at, find another job. Thing is, they suckered me into signing a contract before I ever set foot on the floor... I'll know that next time, that's a trap. There's a reason they need nurses to sign on for a certain number of years and that is because their retention rates are CRAP!!! Why? Well, you've got 4 new nurses to the unit who are all thinking about quitting because the social aspect is complete shit. Charge nurses who will legitimately give you assignments out of spite and talk shit behind your back, only for other nurses to bring these awful details to your attention, to your face. That's just asking for trouble.
Yes, we are working with the DON on some of these issues. However, that brings up a whole new problem for me because if I go to her, they will think I'm being favorited and I will be completely screwed. So, I will stick to the method of sucking it up and dealing with it for 1-2 instances. Then, I will ask for a change of assignment and perhaps inform the other party that I feel I am being treated unfairly. Then, and only then, I will go to our manager. If it doesn't go anywhere by then, I'll go to my great-aunt.
Ugh, I'm fixin' to just call everybody out back and we can handle this like men. This middle school girl bullshit is enough to make a person move to another state.
Friday, September 23, 2016
Doctor Searching
I've been thinking about finding a doctor lately. I feel like I should go in and get checked out and try to be a "good patient" that sees a doctor every 5-6 years... instead of my current method of thinking I'm dying of cancer, going in to get checked out once every 15 or so years, then finding out I'm completely fine. I mean it works, kinda, but that's not the example a nurse should set for her patients, right? At least they're babies and won't ask about the last time I went in for my sniffles or the weird lump on my hip.
Along with thinking about finding a doctor, probably an OB/GYN, comes the thought of how to tell them to be extra careful with me. I have read about it some, and it usually gets the point across by simply saying I have a past history of sexual trauma. Short and to the point. I was gonna say short and sweet, but let's be real, there's nothing sweet about it.
Now, I was contemplating all of this, while throwing the ball for my dog in my backyard, when I remembered a completely random memory: I remember being at a karaoke pub with the girls from my senior year OB and peds rotation, celebrating that we were all done with clinicals. Exfiance was there, and it was after I had already gone to the cops, I believe, but the detective hadn't issued a warrant for him yet, so he didn't know about what I was doing. At some point I had to follow my friends out to the parking lot to make sure they had a buddy to come back in, and he caught me alone. He kept calling my name and I just walked away. I walked away with all of the strength and pride a woman can muster after finally leaving her abuser. I walked away knowing in my heart, that I am fighting for justice with all the courage and strength I could muster. I walked away from him with confidence that I was no longer in his grasp and he now has plenty of stories recorded with his name plastered ALL over them so that if some other girl happens to come forward (and I pray it's no girl that ever meets him after me), then his ass will end up in prison for the rest of his days because of the atrocities he committed towards myself and the other girls.
For having been struggling with insecurities, the sadness of realizing I can't handle a relationship right now, and the thought of ending up alone (which I am more and more okay with as the days go by), this random little memory gave me such strength and hope. I was able to be near him, and his tentacles could no longer permeate my heart because I am already gone. Yes, the damage has been done, but I finally had enough of his shit. I finally got the window to escape, the resources to help me do so, and the time needed to separate myself from his grasp.
For those of you who keep going back to abusers, who keep getting sucked in to their lies and manipulation, or who have to stay for safety reasons or children, I get it. I understand the needing to stay for just a bit longer, or accepting the burden of going back because there isn't sufficient safety in leaving just yet. I get it, I understand, and my heart is heavy for you. I am terribly sorry that you are going through that. I pray that one day, you are able to find your window to escape, and that you run and don't ever look back. Sure, the legal system will drag you back and make you relive the memories. Anniversaries will pop up and bring you down. However, keep fighting and moving and running and working towards your freedom. I promise you deserve it. I pray that once you get to leave, that you never see your abuser again, unless required by the legal system and then only in the presence of the cops that are required to guard him/her and a whole bunch of witnesses. More so, I pray you find your freedom and then peace and confidence to be you.
Praying for you victims and survivors tonight.
Along with thinking about finding a doctor, probably an OB/GYN, comes the thought of how to tell them to be extra careful with me. I have read about it some, and it usually gets the point across by simply saying I have a past history of sexual trauma. Short and to the point. I was gonna say short and sweet, but let's be real, there's nothing sweet about it.
Now, I was contemplating all of this, while throwing the ball for my dog in my backyard, when I remembered a completely random memory: I remember being at a karaoke pub with the girls from my senior year OB and peds rotation, celebrating that we were all done with clinicals. Exfiance was there, and it was after I had already gone to the cops, I believe, but the detective hadn't issued a warrant for him yet, so he didn't know about what I was doing. At some point I had to follow my friends out to the parking lot to make sure they had a buddy to come back in, and he caught me alone. He kept calling my name and I just walked away. I walked away with all of the strength and pride a woman can muster after finally leaving her abuser. I walked away knowing in my heart, that I am fighting for justice with all the courage and strength I could muster. I walked away from him with confidence that I was no longer in his grasp and he now has plenty of stories recorded with his name plastered ALL over them so that if some other girl happens to come forward (and I pray it's no girl that ever meets him after me), then his ass will end up in prison for the rest of his days because of the atrocities he committed towards myself and the other girls.
For having been struggling with insecurities, the sadness of realizing I can't handle a relationship right now, and the thought of ending up alone (which I am more and more okay with as the days go by), this random little memory gave me such strength and hope. I was able to be near him, and his tentacles could no longer permeate my heart because I am already gone. Yes, the damage has been done, but I finally had enough of his shit. I finally got the window to escape, the resources to help me do so, and the time needed to separate myself from his grasp.
For those of you who keep going back to abusers, who keep getting sucked in to their lies and manipulation, or who have to stay for safety reasons or children, I get it. I understand the needing to stay for just a bit longer, or accepting the burden of going back because there isn't sufficient safety in leaving just yet. I get it, I understand, and my heart is heavy for you. I am terribly sorry that you are going through that. I pray that one day, you are able to find your window to escape, and that you run and don't ever look back. Sure, the legal system will drag you back and make you relive the memories. Anniversaries will pop up and bring you down. However, keep fighting and moving and running and working towards your freedom. I promise you deserve it. I pray that once you get to leave, that you never see your abuser again, unless required by the legal system and then only in the presence of the cops that are required to guard him/her and a whole bunch of witnesses. More so, I pray you find your freedom and then peace and confidence to be you.
Praying for you victims and survivors tonight.
Thursday, September 22, 2016
NIghtshift Begins
I worked night shift as a CNA for a year and a half through nursing school. I was a patient sitter, who sat with 1-4 patients on the nights I worked. 12 hours, in a dark, chilly hospital room, trying to get a patient to sleep is difficult work. You may think it's easy or lazy work, which leads me to say: "You do it!" I have had multiple patients grab, kick, punch, and hit me. Yelling doesn't even count as attacks anymore, but some people come up with some nasty things to say when they are on CIWA (edited from AWA, I don't know what AWA is but I wrote this while tired... my bad) (alcohol withdrawal) precautions and need themselves a little buddy for their hospital stay. I have had to stand in the way of elevator doors and hand on for dear life as a dementia patient was pulling me in then pushing me out in hopes that he could get the elevator to work so he could go home.
It may not sound like much, but I have sat with suicidal 15 year-olds, patients suffering from paranoid schizophrenia, CIWA people, dementia sufferers simply wanting to go home, and with so many confused patients that even the nurse refuses to come into the room because of the tension and stress the patient causes for the patient. And yes, they charted that they had done their assessment... I saw it in the charting system but never once saw the damn nurse come into the room (I would know, I was in that stupid room all night, without a break).
Anywho, I predicted that working nights in the NICU would be slightly smoother and a little less difficult to stay awake during. I was correct... for the time-being. I haven't needed mid-shift caffeine boluses (for myself, we started a couple on the kiddos) just yet, nor have I been nodding off while charting. Granted, I just worked my second night shift last night and I'm still working on staying on-time with meds, labs, and feedings, so I stay pretty busy most of my shift.
First Night in NICU: I show up, bright-eyed and bushy tailed for the first day of night orientation. We get report on our two sweet babies and get started. Everything is chugging along with on kid that was admitted a couple hours before we got them (so they required a lot of extra help), and another little punkin that fought feedings with everything the kid had. My gosh, the baby would cry when not being fed, but refuse to eat when we finally gave the bottle. Hahaha, it happens, in my short amount of working, I have seen a few kids do that. So, we got through to about midnight and got notice that we would be getting another child to our assignment. Praise the L-rd I had a preceptor because I didn't even help with our third baby. Then, around 0430, we got a call that our already short-staffed unit would be receiving another little bundle of joy via surprise c-section! Seeing as I'm still learning, and two... one and a quarter nurses are better than none at said delivery... off we ran not even ten minutes later to a delivery that proceeded much more quickly than we were warned about.
When all the day nurses that had been teaching me for the past several months asked how my first night-shift was, all I could do was allow my eyes to get really wide and say, "Well, I learned a lot." That's it! My gosh, I did learn a lot and the nurses learned that I could be counted on to do their assessments if I happened to not be crazy busy while one of their little patients decided to go meet Jesus as an inopportune time for us. I know it's all about working with the babies and their schedule, but them leaving us to "go towards the light" is not something we take kindly to.
Plus, I realized at about 0200 that it was the Harvest Moon, which is a full moon that packs in EXTRA "excitement" (edited from crazy, because that's a mean word to use), obviously. The labor board was chalked full, our NICU is full to bursting, and all of the babies (both earth-side and those still earth-bound) were in cahoots. The ones we had were mostly trying to die or crying their little lungs out. While the kiddos still cooking in mamas decided that it's about time they join in with our fun. Well, normally I'm all for lots of babies, but when said babies are just a couple weeks over halfway baked, it causes a bit of stress for the medical professionals committed to trying to make sure living humans remains living.
NICU Night #2: We started with two infants and gave report on only those two infants. Oh my gosh, it was glorious. We had time to help other nurses that were crazy busy, and all of us went home and clocked out on time! Charting completed, meds given, learning opportunities utilized, IV placed on child, and teachings done!
When day-shift nurses came on and asked how my shift went, I couldn't help but beam with excitement. I stayed on-timeish (minus getting behind for pulling an umbilical arterial line (scary) and doing labs at 0500. Besides that, the shift went fairly well. My gosh, I have been so incredibly blessed with good preceptors and my night-shift preceptor is no exception. She is a wonderful nurse, a great teacher, and a really sweet lady. I am very glad to be able to get to learn from her and know that I can count on her when I am on my own drowning in the future.
My orientation is technically over in 4 shifts. That completes my 12 weeks of training and preceptorship and the more I work the more under-qualified I feel. I'm not a parent. I've never breastfed. I am a brand-new nurse that has a college degree essentially giving me permission to begin on-the-job training. In a field that is life and death, that is freakin' terrifying. Throw into the mix that the life-or-death circumstances belongs to people's literal babies, and I'm plumb scared off my rocker.
Between being scared of breaking or killing somebody else's child and being terrified that they think I'm gonna be okay to be on my own soon, there is also the worry of the night shift staff. So many of them are girls that are a year or two out of college, but already thinking they should be charge nurse. However, these girls don't even keep up with the responsibilities they have to keep their babies clean, fed, and organized. I'm so sick of my generation thinking that they are better than other, they are entitled, or that they can climb the ladder just by sucking up to those in management positions while degrading and bullying those of us perceived to be "less than" them. Why am I "less than" you might ask? I don't know. These girls won't acknowledge me, look at me, speak to me, help me, or otherwise respect me as a living being. The only thing that shows that they can actually see me, is that us "less than's" tend to be tucked into various jokes. At least I provide comedic relief to somebody! I'm constantly laughing at myself, but it's nice to know somebody else can laugh with me too.
It may not sound like much, but I have sat with suicidal 15 year-olds, patients suffering from paranoid schizophrenia, CIWA people, dementia sufferers simply wanting to go home, and with so many confused patients that even the nurse refuses to come into the room because of the tension and stress the patient causes for the patient. And yes, they charted that they had done their assessment... I saw it in the charting system but never once saw the damn nurse come into the room (I would know, I was in that stupid room all night, without a break).
Anywho, I predicted that working nights in the NICU would be slightly smoother and a little less difficult to stay awake during. I was correct... for the time-being. I haven't needed mid-shift caffeine boluses (for myself, we started a couple on the kiddos) just yet, nor have I been nodding off while charting. Granted, I just worked my second night shift last night and I'm still working on staying on-time with meds, labs, and feedings, so I stay pretty busy most of my shift.
First Night in NICU: I show up, bright-eyed and bushy tailed for the first day of night orientation. We get report on our two sweet babies and get started. Everything is chugging along with on kid that was admitted a couple hours before we got them (so they required a lot of extra help), and another little punkin that fought feedings with everything the kid had. My gosh, the baby would cry when not being fed, but refuse to eat when we finally gave the bottle. Hahaha, it happens, in my short amount of working, I have seen a few kids do that. So, we got through to about midnight and got notice that we would be getting another child to our assignment. Praise the L-rd I had a preceptor because I didn't even help with our third baby. Then, around 0430, we got a call that our already short-staffed unit would be receiving another little bundle of joy via surprise c-section! Seeing as I'm still learning, and two... one and a quarter nurses are better than none at said delivery... off we ran not even ten minutes later to a delivery that proceeded much more quickly than we were warned about.
When all the day nurses that had been teaching me for the past several months asked how my first night-shift was, all I could do was allow my eyes to get really wide and say, "Well, I learned a lot." That's it! My gosh, I did learn a lot and the nurses learned that I could be counted on to do their assessments if I happened to not be crazy busy while one of their little patients decided to go meet Jesus as an inopportune time for us. I know it's all about working with the babies and their schedule, but them leaving us to "go towards the light" is not something we take kindly to.
Plus, I realized at about 0200 that it was the Harvest Moon, which is a full moon that packs in EXTRA "excitement" (edited from crazy, because that's a mean word to use), obviously. The labor board was chalked full, our NICU is full to bursting, and all of the babies (both earth-side and those still earth-bound) were in cahoots. The ones we had were mostly trying to die or crying their little lungs out. While the kiddos still cooking in mamas decided that it's about time they join in with our fun. Well, normally I'm all for lots of babies, but when said babies are just a couple weeks over halfway baked, it causes a bit of stress for the medical professionals committed to trying to make sure living humans remains living.
NICU Night #2: We started with two infants and gave report on only those two infants. Oh my gosh, it was glorious. We had time to help other nurses that were crazy busy, and all of us went home and clocked out on time! Charting completed, meds given, learning opportunities utilized, IV placed on child, and teachings done!
When day-shift nurses came on and asked how my shift went, I couldn't help but beam with excitement. I stayed on-timeish (minus getting behind for pulling an umbilical arterial line (scary) and doing labs at 0500. Besides that, the shift went fairly well. My gosh, I have been so incredibly blessed with good preceptors and my night-shift preceptor is no exception. She is a wonderful nurse, a great teacher, and a really sweet lady. I am very glad to be able to get to learn from her and know that I can count on her when I am on my own drowning in the future.
My orientation is technically over in 4 shifts. That completes my 12 weeks of training and preceptorship and the more I work the more under-qualified I feel. I'm not a parent. I've never breastfed. I am a brand-new nurse that has a college degree essentially giving me permission to begin on-the-job training. In a field that is life and death, that is freakin' terrifying. Throw into the mix that the life-or-death circumstances belongs to people's literal babies, and I'm plumb scared off my rocker.
Between being scared of breaking or killing somebody else's child and being terrified that they think I'm gonna be okay to be on my own soon, there is also the worry of the night shift staff. So many of them are girls that are a year or two out of college, but already thinking they should be charge nurse. However, these girls don't even keep up with the responsibilities they have to keep their babies clean, fed, and organized. I'm so sick of my generation thinking that they are better than other, they are entitled, or that they can climb the ladder just by sucking up to those in management positions while degrading and bullying those of us perceived to be "less than" them. Why am I "less than" you might ask? I don't know. These girls won't acknowledge me, look at me, speak to me, help me, or otherwise respect me as a living being. The only thing that shows that they can actually see me, is that us "less than's" tend to be tucked into various jokes. At least I provide comedic relief to somebody! I'm constantly laughing at myself, but it's nice to know somebody else can laugh with me too.
Wednesday, September 14, 2016
My Heart Breaks
I stumbled upon this blog, and it hits close to home. This young lady lost her husband in a car wreck that she was present during.
Her post about Job is something that I very much relate to. I did not lose a husband, but the thoughts of suffering, grief, pain, and the roller coaster that is present after trauma is very much in line with revelations that were made to me in the aftermath of my traumas. I remember reading Job after I broke up with exfiance. Of all the times I had read it before my two years of hellish life events, I never understood how Job could continue to love the L-rd, how he could be so grief stricken one moment, and yet defend the L-rd. Having lived through the shit I've somehow survived, it somehow makes a little bit more sense now. I've been to the place where I was in so much pain I was praying the L-rd just end my suffering. Let's be real, I still have a few days like that here and there. I have been to the point of not caring, of being so broken and hopeless that I was sure life couldn't get worse, and then it did. Yet, I believe the L-rd brought me through. I have no idea why. Why this was my lot in life and why certain people experience things while others don't.
However, I have met so many people that simply don't understand how to be empathetic. They sing worship songs about suffering, sadness, loneliness, and pain, but it means something different to them than it does to me. I know this because of how they talk about the songs and also because I used to be there. The songs about suffering and loss used to remind me of wanting a boyfriend, losing belongings, or otherwise being sad that I was not handed all of my wants and desires on a silver platter. Now, having been through the events that put me here today, these songs remind me of the horrors I have endured and how I am still standing. Songs of salvation, forgiveness, love, and redemption bring me still that sting of intense pain (and typically a lot of tears), but also a sweeter peace than I knew before. I know the L-rd in ways I never thought imaginable and through it all, I feel like I know who I am just a little bit better. I praise the L-rd that many people do not understand this shift I am talking of, and I don't hold it against anyone because I don't want anyone to have to suffer in order to understand what I feel. But I am so very glad that despite the evils done to me, there is some hope and some type of silver lining to the brokenness and struggle of my life.
Please visit Ms. Murri's blog here and her other one here (though it only has a couple of posts). She's a great writer and doesn't ramble on like some people we know *cough, cough, wink, wink (me...)*
Her post about Job is something that I very much relate to. I did not lose a husband, but the thoughts of suffering, grief, pain, and the roller coaster that is present after trauma is very much in line with revelations that were made to me in the aftermath of my traumas. I remember reading Job after I broke up with exfiance. Of all the times I had read it before my two years of hellish life events, I never understood how Job could continue to love the L-rd, how he could be so grief stricken one moment, and yet defend the L-rd. Having lived through the shit I've somehow survived, it somehow makes a little bit more sense now. I've been to the place where I was in so much pain I was praying the L-rd just end my suffering. Let's be real, I still have a few days like that here and there. I have been to the point of not caring, of being so broken and hopeless that I was sure life couldn't get worse, and then it did. Yet, I believe the L-rd brought me through. I have no idea why. Why this was my lot in life and why certain people experience things while others don't.
However, I have met so many people that simply don't understand how to be empathetic. They sing worship songs about suffering, sadness, loneliness, and pain, but it means something different to them than it does to me. I know this because of how they talk about the songs and also because I used to be there. The songs about suffering and loss used to remind me of wanting a boyfriend, losing belongings, or otherwise being sad that I was not handed all of my wants and desires on a silver platter. Now, having been through the events that put me here today, these songs remind me of the horrors I have endured and how I am still standing. Songs of salvation, forgiveness, love, and redemption bring me still that sting of intense pain (and typically a lot of tears), but also a sweeter peace than I knew before. I know the L-rd in ways I never thought imaginable and through it all, I feel like I know who I am just a little bit better. I praise the L-rd that many people do not understand this shift I am talking of, and I don't hold it against anyone because I don't want anyone to have to suffer in order to understand what I feel. But I am so very glad that despite the evils done to me, there is some hope and some type of silver lining to the brokenness and struggle of my life.
Please visit Ms. Murri's blog here and her other one here (though it only has a couple of posts). She's a great writer and doesn't ramble on like some people we know *cough, cough, wink, wink (me...)*
Thursday, July 21, 2016
Can't Run From Your Past
When I told people about my plans to leave Home State, if they new my story, they would tell me that running away from my problems would not fix them. They always told me that my past will follow me wherever I go.
You know what? I have memories and things that come up with with everyday life, but I'm not constantly bombarded with everything I was hit with in Home State, especially in the town where I went to school (where the assaults happened).
Today is a rough day. The memories won't let up, but it's because I'm processing some bad news about one of my cases.
You know what? The legal system sucks when trying to actually get justice. I get that you have to have evidence and proof and whatnot, but seriously the amount of rapists that actually get charged compared to the number of rapes that happen is absolute garbage! No fucking wonder there is a huge number of people (men, women, or children) that are raped every single day. You wanna know why this damn rate is so high? Because the assholes that refuse to keep their appendages to themselves know the law. They know what to do in order to get away with their evil actions. They know that if you are drugged and don't remember the night, then nothing can be done to charge them, unless a witness watches everything that happens and catches the rapist in the act. They know to keep victims away from anyone else because that makes all of their assaults a case of "he-said-she-said" which makes their word just as reliable as the victim's, unless recorded and able to be used for proof.
Honestly, this world is so worried about being politically correct and not stepping on anyone's toes, that it's gotten to the point that nobody can be trusted and justice is unattainable. I know that the only one who can provide justice and truly fix anything is G-d. I don't believe that this is necessarily the end of the road, because He judges and punishes as He sees fit. Maybe one or both of these assholes that destroyed my life are sorry. Maybe they truly regret what they did, are remorseful, and have decided to apologize and ask for forgiveness to the L-rd. Maybe they think I'm over-reacting and think they've done nothing wrong. Maybe, they (or at least one of them), is truly evil and looks to further traumatize girls because he gets a kick out of it.
Who knows? Maybe they will never receive punishment, never feel sorry, never understand the extent to which they have caused harm to another living being. Maybe someday there will be showers of fire and brimstone. I don't know! I know nothing of the future. G-d might not want to punish them at all or maybe He does. Nobody can know.
I'll be honest with you, I pray for justice. I pray that somehow, these wrongs are made right and that I can have peace. I realize that one can have peace without justice being served, and I pray that I am able to come to a resolution regardless of whether judgement and punishment are served.
*sigh*
So, today I struggle but I am on my way to a support group. I pray I find friends who can help me here. I pray I find ladies who can help me walk this rough road that I am being held prisoner on. All I can do is keep marching on as slow or as fast as it requires. I desperately need a bridge to a different path. I need a different road, a different direction, a different life. However, that's not how it works, so here I go...
on my way...
I have no clue where I'm going...
You know what? I have memories and things that come up with with everyday life, but I'm not constantly bombarded with everything I was hit with in Home State, especially in the town where I went to school (where the assaults happened).
Today is a rough day. The memories won't let up, but it's because I'm processing some bad news about one of my cases.
You know what? The legal system sucks when trying to actually get justice. I get that you have to have evidence and proof and whatnot, but seriously the amount of rapists that actually get charged compared to the number of rapes that happen is absolute garbage! No fucking wonder there is a huge number of people (men, women, or children) that are raped every single day. You wanna know why this damn rate is so high? Because the assholes that refuse to keep their appendages to themselves know the law. They know what to do in order to get away with their evil actions. They know that if you are drugged and don't remember the night, then nothing can be done to charge them, unless a witness watches everything that happens and catches the rapist in the act. They know to keep victims away from anyone else because that makes all of their assaults a case of "he-said-she-said" which makes their word just as reliable as the victim's, unless recorded and able to be used for proof.
Honestly, this world is so worried about being politically correct and not stepping on anyone's toes, that it's gotten to the point that nobody can be trusted and justice is unattainable. I know that the only one who can provide justice and truly fix anything is G-d. I don't believe that this is necessarily the end of the road, because He judges and punishes as He sees fit. Maybe one or both of these assholes that destroyed my life are sorry. Maybe they truly regret what they did, are remorseful, and have decided to apologize and ask for forgiveness to the L-rd. Maybe they think I'm over-reacting and think they've done nothing wrong. Maybe, they (or at least one of them), is truly evil and looks to further traumatize girls because he gets a kick out of it.
Who knows? Maybe they will never receive punishment, never feel sorry, never understand the extent to which they have caused harm to another living being. Maybe someday there will be showers of fire and brimstone. I don't know! I know nothing of the future. G-d might not want to punish them at all or maybe He does. Nobody can know.
I'll be honest with you, I pray for justice. I pray that somehow, these wrongs are made right and that I can have peace. I realize that one can have peace without justice being served, and I pray that I am able to come to a resolution regardless of whether judgement and punishment are served.
*sigh*
So, today I struggle but I am on my way to a support group. I pray I find friends who can help me here. I pray I find ladies who can help me walk this rough road that I am being held prisoner on. All I can do is keep marching on as slow or as fast as it requires. I desperately need a bridge to a different path. I need a different road, a different direction, a different life. However, that's not how it works, so here I go...
on my way...
I have no clue where I'm going...
Thursday, June 16, 2016
Life As a New Grad Nurse...???
There are seasons in my life where everything seems to be going wrong. When I say "wrong" I mean, life suffocates me and it's all I can do to crawl to the bathroom in the event that I have to pee. I spend days in bed sleeping, don't need to eat, drinking something like water only happens to get down the pills, and I am paralyzed.
There are other seasons, where, for the first time in a very long time, I will have weeks of good days and I may be excited about life for awhile. Times when I see the fruition of the L-rd's work and I suddenly believe that life will work out and cooperate for a bit.
Then, there are days like today... My short bit of life right before and following graduation were wonderful. I was full of hope, some anxiety but it was more nervous excitement than true anxiety, I was able to smile, I felt lighter, I was graduating nursing school! I had a job! I was moving to Small Town and I'm getting away from the town that has produced nothing but pain for me the past year or two. I was leaving the boys that destroyed my sense of self and I would not have to worry about seeing their trucks on the road any longer. I don't have to worry about seeing them at a bar or when I go out to supper with friends. I don't have to be concerned that I'll bump into one of their friends when I go out bowling or to the grocery store. There was a light at the end of my deep, dark, looooooooong tunnel and I was nearing it!
I am nearer to the light, but it's gotten a bit dim today. I haven't started work and I've been down here for nearly two weeks. I've been graduated from nursing school for over a month and still no money coming in. Without work, I haven't been able to meet new people. A highlight in my day involves going to the grocery store across the street because they help every single customer out to their car so I get to talk to the person that helps me out. This is my socialization. I've spent time with my Mema and other family who is down here, but everyone seems to be so busy! They keep asking me how my license is coming and it's irritating to only be able to say that I'm still waiting on the board of nursing for the state. I JUST WANT TO START WORKING!!!
I go on vacation in about a week and a half and really want to work before I go on that vacation.
Through nursing school, everyone tells you how scary it is to wait to take the NCLEX. They tell you how scary it is waiting for the results. They tell you how hard the first year of nursing is, but they explain that it will still be rewarding and exciting.
Nobody tells you about the month or two in between nursing school and the NCLEX/working where life seems to stand still. It's a struggle if you do have a job because you are now college educated, working your college job... Or, you might be like me, who took a semester off of work for various reasons, and now you're waiting on the governmental agency to get their shit together so that you can begin your life!!! I'm going nuts!
Thing is, I've had so many friends text me disappointed about not having a job yet, not being able to work, being scared about how they will pay their bills, worried that they aren't good enough to be a nurse because the local hospitals won't hire them because of the mass influx in new grads, and we're all terrified. Nobody told us about this season of self-doubt, depression, anxiousness, feelings of failure, frustration at the system, and disappointment in ourselves for even feeling these things.
Most of us are having a terribly difficult time. I slept until 12:30 p.m. today and haven't left my bed yet because I have no motivation to do anything. I don't feel needed, I don't have friends to be able to see, I don't have money to be able to go do anything, and I can't see a purpose to get dressed or complete any task. Couple that with my nightmare I had last night (I'll tell you about it in my next post) and the flashbacks that are coming back in full force, I'm struggling. Now, I'm not as bad as I have been. This is the point where I can still turn my depressive episode around. All I have to do is find the energy and desire.
There are other seasons, where, for the first time in a very long time, I will have weeks of good days and I may be excited about life for awhile. Times when I see the fruition of the L-rd's work and I suddenly believe that life will work out and cooperate for a bit.
Then, there are days like today... My short bit of life right before and following graduation were wonderful. I was full of hope, some anxiety but it was more nervous excitement than true anxiety, I was able to smile, I felt lighter, I was graduating nursing school! I had a job! I was moving to Small Town and I'm getting away from the town that has produced nothing but pain for me the past year or two. I was leaving the boys that destroyed my sense of self and I would not have to worry about seeing their trucks on the road any longer. I don't have to worry about seeing them at a bar or when I go out to supper with friends. I don't have to be concerned that I'll bump into one of their friends when I go out bowling or to the grocery store. There was a light at the end of my deep, dark, looooooooong tunnel and I was nearing it!
I am nearer to the light, but it's gotten a bit dim today. I haven't started work and I've been down here for nearly two weeks. I've been graduated from nursing school for over a month and still no money coming in. Without work, I haven't been able to meet new people. A highlight in my day involves going to the grocery store across the street because they help every single customer out to their car so I get to talk to the person that helps me out. This is my socialization. I've spent time with my Mema and other family who is down here, but everyone seems to be so busy! They keep asking me how my license is coming and it's irritating to only be able to say that I'm still waiting on the board of nursing for the state. I JUST WANT TO START WORKING!!!
I go on vacation in about a week and a half and really want to work before I go on that vacation.
Through nursing school, everyone tells you how scary it is to wait to take the NCLEX. They tell you how scary it is waiting for the results. They tell you how hard the first year of nursing is, but they explain that it will still be rewarding and exciting.
Nobody tells you about the month or two in between nursing school and the NCLEX/working where life seems to stand still. It's a struggle if you do have a job because you are now college educated, working your college job... Or, you might be like me, who took a semester off of work for various reasons, and now you're waiting on the governmental agency to get their shit together so that you can begin your life!!! I'm going nuts!
Thing is, I've had so many friends text me disappointed about not having a job yet, not being able to work, being scared about how they will pay their bills, worried that they aren't good enough to be a nurse because the local hospitals won't hire them because of the mass influx in new grads, and we're all terrified. Nobody told us about this season of self-doubt, depression, anxiousness, feelings of failure, frustration at the system, and disappointment in ourselves for even feeling these things.
Most of us are having a terribly difficult time. I slept until 12:30 p.m. today and haven't left my bed yet because I have no motivation to do anything. I don't feel needed, I don't have friends to be able to see, I don't have money to be able to go do anything, and I can't see a purpose to get dressed or complete any task. Couple that with my nightmare I had last night (I'll tell you about it in my next post) and the flashbacks that are coming back in full force, I'm struggling. Now, I'm not as bad as I have been. This is the point where I can still turn my depressive episode around. All I have to do is find the energy and desire.
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