Curve Balls in Life…

Life is full of surprises. Just when I think I am on a somewhat even keel…something happens to remind me that my “even keel” is, at times, rather precarious. Want an example? I could give many, but I will give one from tonight.

I am still working through my mother’s death and all the weirdness surrounding it and my whole life. Still being partially amnesic adds an interesting element to the mix.  I was not close to my mother, so her death does not hold the sting of losing something I had. Rather, it is about losing the opportunity to ever have it…in this life. I will never be close to her. There will never be reconciliation…in this life. We won’t hug…

I thought I was doing pretty much OK…getting back to some kind of even keel…when I saw a movie scene tonight that triggered a crying jag. Yeah…I am still affected by it. Can’t really help that. It was of a mother and son reconciling. I had seen this movie several times before, but this is the first time since word of her death.

(OK…gonna ramble a bit here.)

And speaking of her death…not only did my father not notify us, he did not notify anyone in her family either. The only obituary I could find did not list any next of kin…not even my father…who is already remarried. I wish I could find a wedding date, but the state they live in holds those kinds of record private. Only one year and 3 months ago she died and he is remarried. Like father like son? Family legacy? I don’t know. What can you say about generational abuse? It keeps on passing down. I am doing my darndest to make sure it stops in my generation. I really don’t know how successful I was at that. Perhaps that is one of the blessings of amnesia.

Anyway…just needed to get some thoughts out here tonight. I am still processing. I will be for a long time. And I am working on forgiveness. I refuse to lock myself in a prison of the heart by holding a grudge. Just not going there. I choose to walk in freedom and my heavenly Abba helps me to do that. I sure could not do it on my own. Nope. No way.

Living Life in the Face of Nastiness…

There are people in life who are simply nasty. They are mean, disrespectful and really don’t care how what they do affects others. When confronted with such people, we have choices to make. We can either react to them, wherein we lose ourselves by allowing them to control our lives and determine how we will live. Or, we can respond to them, wherein we maintain our own autonomy and integrity and choose how we shall live. I prefer the latter. That is my choice.

When I am confronted by nasty negative people I choose to remember that I, too, have had my “moments” of being nasty or ugly. It may not have been intentional. I may not have even been aware of how I was coming across. Or, I may have realized it as it was happening, but did not know how to “fix” it. Or maybe there was no fix…the damage was already done. Any way you look at it, I have had a negative impact on others at times in my life. So, I believe it is worthwhile to remain humble toward others, recognizing that I am certainly not perfect, either!

I also try to remember that everyone is the way they are for a reason. For good or bad, we have all had negative and positive experiences in life that have helped to shape us into what we are today. Sometimes, the balance between positive and negative was fairly even overall. But for some of us, one heavily outweighed the other.

For those whose positive experiences heavily outweighed the negative it can be difficult to understand those of who whose lives were the opposite. We may fumble where they do not. We may react to things that do not faze them one bit. I think it is good when each person can believe another’s story and try to imagine living in that reality. It can help us to be more empathetic toward others.

For those of us who weigh heavily on the negative, and some even in the extreme, it can be difficult to imagine life without that. We see the way others live and struggle to comprehend how they can do that. It just isn’t even on our radar.

Thankfully, though, there can be some good experiences even in the midst of craziness and evil, that give us some positive skills for life. For me, knowing my Creator made a HUGE difference. It is part of what helped to shape me and, I think, to temper how the abuse affected me.

I still deal with the physical effects of trauma brain and I can still experience flashbacks that are part of PTSD and getting  triggered.  However, I have learned over the years how to cope and work around the aftereffects. I know what I can do and what I cannot do and I no longer feel guilt or shame over what I cannot do…even when others do not understand. It is frustrating at times when people look less favorably upon me for what I cannot do. They cannot comprehend how even the simplest of things can be overwhelming at times. But I have learned to live with that and simply accept that there are things they simply do not know and, even if they did, might not be able to understand.

Life is good…even when it is hard. I am OK with that. My heavenly Abba/Father/true Daddy walks with me. So does my Messiah…Yeshua. Their Ruach/Spirit lives within me and that strengthens and comforts me…especially when life is hard.

I refuse to give up. I refuse to hold grudges. I refuse to not forgive. I choose to walk in freedom with my head held high…even when I am shaking inside.

Grieving the Finality of What Will Never Be…

I found out yesterday that my mother passed away on December 24, 2010. Yep…that is 1 year, 2 months and 14 days, plus or minus. And he is already remarried…I have NO idea for how long.

We permitted our son to call my mother…it’s a long story. When he asked about his grandmother, my father told him that she had died two years ago on a date my son did not remember. I got the actual date by calling the coroner’s office. They were able to confirm the date of her death and the cause…melanoma. I was told that she had been in hospice care, which was why her death was reported to them. It is a law in that state to report all deaths of people in hospice care.

Over the years I have grieved for what was and grieved for what wasn’t. And now, I need to grieve for what for sure will never be. There will never be reconciliation. Never be recognition. Never be an apology or forgiveness extended. Never be so many things.

I have a lot to think about…and a lot to feel. It can be difficult not to second-guess myself, but there are things I need to face in order to settle things in my own mind and heart. I was told she was dying, but not that she was in hospice care or that it was imminent. My father just kept playing games and, I believe, actually kept us apart…especially given what she said in the one time I did talk to her…a call that was interrupted by my father.

Things are a bit complicated and I am having to sort them all out. I need to own whatever is mine and refuse to take on whatever is not. I will not try to pick up another’s guilt. It is simply not mine to carry. Nor is it for me to run from my responsibilities. I went into this with eyes wide open. I knew the risks. I took the chance. Now it is over. Now I will process from a different place…on the other side of her death.

It is sad when someone lies so much that even when they tell the truth it is not the whole story and you don’t really know what you can believe. There are so many what ifs that I could run through. And taking a look is not a bad idea…but living there is. I must face what I must face and trust my heavenly Abba to walk me through to the other side. He has never let me down.

Grief Group…

A therapist I went to for a while is having a free grief group. I am not sure why it is free…perhaps the church it is being held at is paying for it. Or, maybe he is just giving something free out of gratitude for how blessed he has been in his practice. I just know that price is right and I am signed up. He needs a minimum of 5 people and I hope he gets them.

So…why am I going? Because of my mom. There are so many issues I am facing surrounding her death. I may not even be told that she when she dies…although I think my father probably would tell me by throwing it in my face. Actually, I can see him writing and telling me that I need to call him in order to find out how she is doing. I just cannot believe he won’t pull some kind of power play.

Her death will mean the finality of so many things…a loss of little girl dreams that never really do die. There are so many levels of grief. Grief that I am not being kept up to date. Grief that I will most likely never be able to have a connection with my mother. I can live without it, but I do want it.

On another level, her death will mean a releasing. There will be no more chances to think about or even try for. It will be time to grieve and move on in a different way than I have moved on so far. There is a separation and yet a connection right now. Like it or not, she is my parent. Although I am not holding my breath, I cannot ignore the hope that we will be able to at least talk about some things.

I have thought many times over the years about how I would respond to news of the deaths of either or both of my parents. It is one of those things that I think you just cannot know until it happens. Their deaths will mean the loss of so many possibilities…so many things that could have been. The fact that they were among my abusers does not change that. I have found freedom and I so wish they could, too. I have heard of such things happening and I know that nothing is impossible with G-d.

So, I think it will do me good to be able to voice some of this in a group. At least, I hope it will. I also hope we can afford the gas, but I will just have to trust my heavenly Abba for that just as I do for everything else.

Regarding My Mother…

My sister is dead. My mother is going to die. So is my father. Those are important things for me to keep in mind. I liken my relationship (or lack thereof) with them to my relationship with my ex. So first, I want to talk a little bit about my divorce.

When I came into my first marriage, both of us were very broken…although I do not believe either of us had any idea really just how broken we were. I know I sure did not. I still did not have any clear memories of sexual abuse or ritual abuse, although I did “know” that something was wrong. I I always “felt” that I was somehow different from other folks…I just did not understand it all.

Two very broken people tried to make a marriage. It didn’t work very well. Over the years, we both suffered. We both did things that were unhealthy. I had to learn to make healthy boundaries. It took me a LONG time, but I did finally start making them right about the time my second child was a toddler.

I did it in baby steps so that it would not be noticed for the real boundary drawing had to begin in my heart. It had to begin inside before it could be expressed outwardly. So, I started to say “no” inside and then used little things to move it to the outside…little unnoticed things that slowly built up and gave me strength.

Several years later (about 9), it culminated in my outwardly saying “no” and drawing the biggest boundary I think I had ever set up to that point. I knew there could be some very serious ramifications, but I was “prepared”. Meaning that I was ready to take whatever came…no matter how ugly or painful. I said “no” and it got hairy, resulting in a final separation within the week and, ultimately, in a divorce.

There are three key things here.  One…I did everything I knew to do to make my marriage work. Two…when it all came down, I drew firm boundaries and stuck to them. I stood my ground. Third…my family is generational cult.

I have a lot of reasons to believe that my marriage was cult arranged. That kind of colors everything that happened. I was still “tied” to my parents, but I did not understand it. When we separated, they moved in. Very handy. Thankfully, my parents did not live with me for very long. They moved out of the area about an hour and a half away which gave me a good reason not to see them very often. Several months later, I and boys moved in with some other people and lived with three different families before getting into our own home.

When I separated…which was one of many miracles in my life…I had tried everything I knew to make the marriage work. However, while I drew closer and closer to G-d, he drew further and further from Him. We were going in opposite directions. I was working on my issues. He was…well…let’s just say he was definitely NOT working on his issues and leave it at that. Things were getting worse and worse as I got stronger and stronger until it finally came to a head and G-d told me to set that final boundary.

After we separated, I gave him every opportunity. I was willing to go to counseling. I was willing to wait a year while he dealt with his drug and alcohol issues. At the same time, I would not let him back into the house (not even in a separate bedroom) for that year. I withstood his attempts to “blackmail” me over the support he was voluntarily giving me and exposed his tactic to the courts. Every move he made, I countered. I stood my ground. Anything I gave to him I did of my own choice, not because I felt I had to. I fought for the sake of my children, and I no longer sacrificed myself to him out of a mistaken idea that it would somehow benefit them.

When it was all said and done and the decree came, I stood tall knowing that I had truly done all I could to save that marriage. My conscience was clear. I walked in my integrity. Even though I filed for separation and then divorce, he was the one who chose to walk away by refusing to do anything to save the marriage. He refused counseling. He refused to deal with his multiple addictions. He tried every manipulation tactic in the book, but G-d had brought me to a place of being able to recognize what was happening and to withstand them all.

Now, with my parents, it is similar. When they die, I will know that I tried everything I could, while maintaining healthy boundaries, to give them an opportunity to have some kind of relationship. I don’t need one with them although it would be nice. In fact, I really doubt that anything beyond the surface is even possible short of a HUGE miracle because my father still wants to control me, but he cannot.

I broke free of them about 9 years ago. It was a difficult journey, but just like in my marriage, G-d prepared me. He took me step by step by step, helping me to see the truth and to respond to that truth with boundary drawing. He also blessed me with a good non-cult husband (another miracle) who helped me. I cannot imagine trying to do it without him.

So, yes, I still contact my folks from time to time. I offer them an opportunity to get real on some level…or to at least talk about life in general. Yes, my father sends me BS and tries to give me grief and my mother ignores me after telling me that she really wants to talk to me. That is OK. I know not to take it personally. I am offering them a gift. If they refuse to take it, I will walk tall in my integrity. I will mourn for what could have been, but I will know I did my best and my conscience will remain clear.

I really think the biggest key is motivation. My motivation is one of love for them…in spite of them. It is a love I can only have because Yeshua enables me to have it. I have been forgiven for SO much. I know the darkness of my own heart (and I am sure it is even darker that I can see). How can I not forgive them and love them? They, too, are survivors. All of us are, in one way or another. Some are just more so than others.

Forgiveness and love do NOT mean letting them be ugly with me. It means standing in front of them and responding rather than reacting. I can do that now. I could not do that before. The programming is broken. The chains are gone. I have been set free.

I’m Here…

…and I am doing life. Want an update? OK…here goes:

We are much closer to moving into the house.

Our cat has had kittens.

My MIL asked me about my mother.

My wedding anniversary is coming up.

My birthday is coming up…the anniversary of my sister’s death.

Mother’s Day is coming up.

Father’s Day is coming up.

I am being challenged as a parent and as a home educator.

My laptop has been doing goofy things.

I am trying to encourage others while feeling kind of drained myself. I am OK…just feeling tired. I want to hide out for a while. I don’t really want to read or go to forums…yet I do want to know how others are doing. I don’t want to make the effort to connect…yet I want to be connected. I can feel emotional pain in my gut. There are tears in my eyes.

I am feeling kind of non-functional right now…just sitting here listening to worship music and letting myself soak in it. The smallness of our place is felt…but the hope of more space is also there. It is SO close.

There is so much I want to do…to write…yet I feel so lethargic. I want to  curl up in a cozy, soft chair…but we have none. The couch is threadbare and the wires can be felt where the padding has worn out. The cushion on my chair is gone. Hubby’s chair is the best, but it is still not all that great. I long for a long soak in a big bathtub, too…or to just lay all spread out on a bed.

The time is coming…hopefully within a week or two. Now that we have running water, I can start to clean up the place in prep for moving in. But I cannot live in tomorrow. I must live in today…and today…I must be content…or I will drive myself even nuttier than I already am.

Life is actually good. I cannot complain. I have all I need…even if not all I want. I trust the Creator to meet all my needs. If there is something I am not getting…it is because He is working something out in me or in another. I choose to trust Him…no matter what. He has proven Himself to be faithful to me.

So I will keep putting one foot in front of the other. I will keep on moving forward…not letting myself fall back. I will rest when I need to rest. I will cry when I need to cry. I will feel when I need to feel.

Keeping Up With Life…

We have run into obstacle after obstacle in trying to get the house to a livable condition. Yet, every time something comes up Yahweh supplies the answer. The provision comes. The fix comes. The help comes. Sometimes from the most unexpected places.

Life happens and G-d provides. I just keep walking through it. Some days are fairly smooth for me. Some days…like right now…I feel as if I can hardly even concentrate enough to write this post. Yet…I just keep plugging along. In fact, that is how I have gotten through many years of my life…just persistent plugging along…taking it one day at a time…and even one breath at a time.

Yahweh is good. He kept me alive…kept me going. He did not let me give up. He did not let me take my life. He did not let me go in psych ward. He helped me watch over my children. He strengthened me and helped me to grow. He protected me in SO many ways!

Why? Why did He do that? Is it because I am someone special? I really don’t think so…certainly no more than anyone else. Maybe it is because I so much weaker than many others. Perhaps I would not have survived a psych ward…or a suicide attempt. I know others have gone through things that I really do not think I would have made it through.

Or…perhaps my children would not have survived if I was not there on some level for them. I don’t know. I do know, though, that my children were a very strong motivation for me to stick around. I wanted to protect them in any way I could.

I can speculate all I want as to why I have had to experience some really bad things…and yet been delivered/protected from others. I only know that He is faithful…faithful to get me through it and faithful to bless me in it. There are those moments in time when He touched me so deeply that I thought I could barely survive that! From darkness to glory He has been there for me and with me. He is why I live and breathe.

So…now I am trying to keep up with life. That means not keeping up with everything I would like to…but that is OK. It is not that some things and people are less important…it is simply a lack of time and energy.

I am becoming stronger and finding ways to find some more balance in my life. Right now…I am still juggling some things. I am learning to be true to who I am created to be…learning to figure out what to juggle and what to simply let go of. I don’t know about others…but that is no easy task for me. It can be downright challenging.

All of my life, I was to subordinate to others…to put their needs first. Even after all these years…I am STILL learning how to pick and choose when to put myself first. I am also still learning when those times are. I do not want to be selfish…always putting me first. I just want to take good care of myself. It is better to do a few things well than to do many things shoddily.

 

Yours, Mine and ????…

What am I talking about? Assumptions! Regarding: Experiences! Healing journeys! Therapy! Plus any other number of things that many of us go through.

So many times I see people making assumptions based upon their own experiences. They take what has happened to them and then project it onto others.

For example, I have run into some bad therapists. Based upon that, I could make the assumption that all therapists are bad. However, I know that is not the case because I was blessed to have had some good ones first. But what if the bad ones had been my first ones? I might never have even given a good one a try.

The reverse is also true. Before I ran into a bad therapist myself, I could have made the incorrect assumption that all therapists are good. Thankfully, I  knew better than that for I had heard of bad ones before I ran into any.

Another example of assumptions has to do with what happened with my father. When I was in high school, I kept getting a gut feeling that something had happened between my father and I, but I had no memories at that time of anything specific. My life was a mess, but I refused to allow that to cause me to assume anything specific had happened (as a way of explaining why I was such a mess). I wanted proof.

For several years I battled that feeling and grew weary of it. So, I told the L-rd that, unless He gave me the memories, I was going to shove aside my gut feeling…which I did. I pushed it aside and refused to even consider it. I was actually rather successful at it.

Later, when I was trying to get help, I was confronted with that gut feeling again. So, I prayed for the truth. I wanted to either have the memories of the incidents causing the gut feeling to be revealed or, if there were no underlying incidents causing the gut feeling, to have the gut feeling go away. I refused to make assumptions about my father and I.

As it turns out, the person I went to for help…for prayer help…was a mess himself. However, there were some things in my life that stopped after being prayed for. G-d did use him in His own way to help me. I used to have “visions” of walking into my apartment and seeing my husband and sons slaughtered and blood all over the place. That stopped. I used to “see” myself driving off embankments or being “pushed” down stairs by invisible forces. That stopped.

I also had four memory flashes while working with him.  Two were of molestation. Although I did not really want to believe, I knew they were true. And even though I could not see who it was…I “knew”. In my heart of hearts I knew, but I did not want to deal with it. So, I shoved it aside. I did not want to assume it was my father…not unless I clearly saw his face.

The other two made no sense to me. They were ritual abuse in nature, but at that time I was not familiar with ritual abuse and I had no inkling that I had that background.  He interpreted the flashes as non-memory. He said they were some kind of generational thing passed down from prior generations. That did not sound right to me. So, I just set them aside for the time being. I did not assume they were non-memories. I did not assume they were memories.

Later, it kept bugging me. I suspect it was because odd things were happening between my father and I…as an adult married woman. I just kept feeling like I needed to stop shoving this under the rug. So, I went to a woman who specialized in a prayer ministry. We prayed a lot and, with the help of the Holy Spirit, I was able to see more of the memory…enough to see my father’s shirt…and his face.

As it turns out, this woman was abused herself. I think that caused her to push me to confront my father…perhaps before I was ready. It was something I felt I needed to do…even though I was really nervous about it.

When I did confront my father, with my mother by his side, he never denied a thing. He only said that he did not remember doing anything like that. I thought that was an odd response. My mother readily agreed that something had happened to me. She was just wondering “who it could have been”.

I pointed out something my father had been doing in the more recent past that was boundary crossing. It was part of the oddness that had been going on between my father and me and had to do with kissing me on the mouth against my wishes. I had been ducking and making it clear with my body language that I was not comfortable with it.

My father acknowledged that he knew I was uncomfortable with it, but said that body language  was not enough. I had to verbally say it. My mother was furious with him at first, but then got quiet.

My father, when confronted with my memories, assumed that the counselor must have suggested them to me. As she pointed out to him, I had them before I came to her. He then assumed that I must have gained them via hypnosis or psychotropic drugs. I was never hypnotized and had not taken any psychotropic drugs. Then he assumed they were planted there by satan to try and break the family apart. Mind you, my family was never close anyway. The only thing it could break apart were the manipulations going on.

He gave me a whole stack of articles that he “just happened” to find in people’s houses that he was cleaning. He said that G-d had led him to them. They all dealt with the false idea of False Memory Syndrome…something never proven and not in any of the DSM’s.

I don’t think he really believed any of those things caused my memories. However, I did start taking a look at them. Nothing in those articles applied to me. Nothing. Nor I did fit the typical FMS profile of that time. I did not sue my parents. I did not file a police report. I did not go public. I did not act in any kind of vindictive way.  I did not even keep my sons from visiting with my parents. It simply became the subject not talked about…until about four years or so later.

When my youngest was three, my parents started to manipulate their way into living with us. Even my pastor, when he heard about the situation, thought it was very odd. I became very unstable and started to have suicidal ideations. I prayed and fought and it got better…until they actually moved in.

Then it got really bad. With my father up early and my mother up late, I had no time alone other than in my special room. They ended up spending more and more time with my son while I was being driven further into instability…an instability they were actually causing. They created a problem and then were there to “help”. I could take a whole book to share the kinds of manipulations that were going on.

It was not until they had been out of the house about a year that I got a more complete understanding. It was all about them having access to my son. They moved in the month he turned four. They assumed that they could eliminate me…either by suicide, hospitalization or simply my shutting down…and they would have complete access to my son. But G-d had a different plan!

More to come…

It’s Time…to Write…

I need to write. It is time…perhaps even past time. I am fighting tears right now and, I must confess, not doing a very good job of it.

Maybe it is the time of year. Maybe it has to do with my parents (I know there is anger under the surface with that one). Maybe it is what feels like a tenuousness in my living situation (even though I am seeing Yahweh do amazing things). Maybe it is being in contact with a cousin (mother’s side) for the first time in many, many years (we never lived close so I have only met her a few times). Maybe it is my expectation of what may be to come…system wise…when we do finally move into the house (which will be unfinished inside). Maybe it is my age and/or the way this living situation has taken its toll on my health. Maybe it is something I don’t even know about…something that is buried deep inside and whirling around.

I see things I want to do…but cannot. My situation and time, along with my state of emotional/mental health holds me back. I want to contribute in ways that I am simply unable to. I want to keep up with my online friends…and cannot. And all of these things are OK…I know (in my head) that they are. But I struggle in my heart. My online friends…in all of their various places…mean a lot to me. They are a form of support that is precious to me. Yet…as beautiful and precious as they are…they are not enough. They, too, are human and facing challenges of their own. They are not able to always be available…which leads me to the next thing I need to write about.

There is something that has been happening in my spirit over a long time. But lately, well, the only way I know to describe it is that it is almost like a surge. It is as if my heart connection with Yahweh has surged forward. I have been facing some challenges…which I have really tried my best to deal with. Those challenges…like challenges often do…have pushed me toward Him even more. I need His wisdom and His guidance, but mostly…I need to rest in His love.

It seems that my faith gets stretched and my spiritual maturity grows through that. And then it seems like I hit the wall. I am utterly helpless and I find it necessary to fall back upon the childlike aspect of my faith. Yeshua said that we should trust like children do. And so that is what I do…I just fall into His love and trust Him for the things I simply cannot do…or even see.

So I rest in Him, trusting Him and drawing even closer to Him. The strength, maturity and depth from the stretching I went through settles in while He is preparing me for the next stretching session. I stretch. I grow. I rest. Stretch. Grow. Rest. A cycle that is as old as time and yet very much in the present and will continue to be right there in the midst of my future. One long strand tying past to present to future.

There are things in that “maybe” paragraph that I think I need to write about…but I think I will separate them out into different posts.

Each Day Moving Forward…

I don’t know how much time we have left in this world. I watch it getting worse and worse…and then I wonder…how serious are my problems…really. I do my best when I walk in the truth that this is NOT my real Home. My real Home comes after this world passes away. This is merely a shadow of what is to come…and for some of us…it is a very dark shadow.

Yet…the Creator has come to bring light into this darkness. He has come to bring love and healing…and a challenge. Recognizing who He is and choosing to follow Him comes with a price. There are those who reject Him and there are some who will reject me, also. Some will reject me because I am a broken imperfect person, but there are some who will reject me because I follow Him…because I will not compromise truth.

Personally…I don’t really think that most people are really rejecting Him. I think they are rejecting the caricature and false image of Him that has been taught in so many places and groups. It really makes me sad when I see how He is portrayed as something/someone He is not. So many people miss out on the blessing of really knowing Him because they have never been introduced to the REAL Him!

Another thing that makes a real difference in my life is when I sit with the One who made me…the One who knows me best…the One who became man and gave of Himself for me. That is one of the challenges of my living situation. I have not had any regular time alone to just sit with Him. But then I have to ask myself…how much do I really love Him? When we really love someone…don’t we make time to be with that person?

As I sit here I recognize that I really do not do all I can to spend time with Him…listening for His voice…reading and learning of Him…focusing my heart upon Him…drawing closer to Him. There are things in my life that make it harder to do all of that…things I can do nothing about. I can’t do much about my brain being in a fog…or about feeling a bit dizzy at times. I can’t do much about being unable to focus…about my mind swirling around. However, do I make the best use of the little snippets of time I have alone? He is my Creator. He loves me so much and has been here for me in so many ways. Do I really appreciate that? Do I show that appreciation?

It has been so long since I have lived in a situation that allowed me to spend regular time with Him and in His written words to me. Yet…I do talk to Him a lot. In fact, I am talking to Him even as I write these words. And He does speak to my heart. As I sit here thinking that I am failing to really do all I can to draw close to Him, He just puts His arms around my heart and reassures me that it is not about performance. It is about loving Him…and I do love Him…so much more than I can ever express.

I cannot show my love for Him in the same ways that others can, but why should I? I am not them! I am His unique creation…made in His image and filled with His Spirit. So I show my love for Him in ways that are uniquely gifted to me. Sometimes…loving Him can simply mean that I honor Him by not giving up. I keep fighting. I keep trying to do the right thing…even when I fall upon my face time after time. I aim at taking good care of this body that He has given me.

Hm…I just took a break to fold some clothes before I wrap up this post. I am listening to some beautiful music being played on PBN. Suddenly, I realized something. Sometimes the music in our lives is loud and we are dancing and singing to it. Other times it is a steady stream in the background. We are not focused on it, but it is there nonetheless.

It is the same in my life with the Creator. Sometimes I am focused directly and intently upon Him. He and I are dancing and singing and openly communicating. But oftentimes, He is the spiritual background music of my life…the love that is always there…the presence that is always with me…even when I am not really focusing directly on Him.

I want to have Him more up front in my life. Yet I am also grateful that He is faithful to never leave me or abandon me…even when He is not the upfront focus…even when flashbacks seem more real…even when my brain is too foggy to focus on anything…even when I cannot read His word…even when confusion seems to be reigning.

He is good. He is love. He is my true Abba…and my L-rd. His Spirit lives with me. Because of Him…I can live each day moving forward…even when it does not feel as if I am moving forward.

I Feel…

I feel drained…poured out. Overwhelmed.

I tried out a program online called Backyard Paradise. It is a sort of collage where you design your backyard from a variety of scenes. I chose a sand desert. Starting with that, I tried to show how I feel. I posted the result here in a piece called “Poured Out”.

I have another idea for showing how I feel, but I have not worked on it, yet.I hope to get it done and be able to turn it in for the third Expressive Arts Carnival.

This afternoon, I spoke with my former therapist…a wonderful, Christian woman whom I miss very much. She wishes I could get away for a week or two…take a real break from everything going on in my life. But I just don’t see how I can. I have two places I can go. One friend has offered to pay my way there (and for my son, too, if need be) and the other wishes she/they could. But there are things here that I need to be available for. I just cannot leave at this time. In some ways, I feel trapped here…stuck.

I keep looking to my heavenly Abba/Daddy…for comfort…for wisdom. Somewhere along the way I allowed myself to get sucked into some unhealthy thinking. I talked this over with D…the therapist. I feel as if I lost my way for a bit. The freedom in Yeshua that I once felt and experienced just sort of slipped away. It is not that the freedom was no longer there…just that I seemed to no longer have access to it. It wasn’t that I was lost. My Abba always knew where I was and He was right here with me. It is just that I lost my awareness of Him…of His love. I have been feeling confused…mixed up and filled with shame and guilt.

Why is that? I think a lot of it is just because I have been so vulnerable. I love my Creator…very much. I am so grateful for all He has done in my life…for His incredible love for me. I try to be open to whatever it is that He wants from me. I want to serve and obey Him both because I love Him and because I trust that He knows what is best for me…even if I don’t see it.

There are some things I have been reading in the last few years…while also in the midst of this living situation. These things had to do with what others thought obedience to G-d means…how that should look in our day-to-day lives. A lot of it “sounds” right on. The arguments are well written and, in my vulnerability, I found myself starting to lean toward some of them. But they are lies.

Add to that the fact that, as I heal, I change. As I come together inside, my understanding of things changes…and that includes spiritual things. There is so much that I once understood that I now find myself confused about.

The confusion is not about core stuff. I know who the Creator is. I know what Yeshua did for me. Of that, I have no doubt. However, how that plays out in my life…what I am supposed to do with that understanding and how I am to live is another thing. There are scriptures that I thought I understood. Either I did not really understand them…or the changing inside has caused me to lose some of that understanding…and I need to regain it.

In some ways, I feel like I am on the threshold of a deeper walk…a deeper knowledge…a deeper experience with my L-rd. I feel as if I am having to look at things with new eyes…and I need the help of the Holy Spirit to understand what I am seeing.

Many years ago, I had to ask the Holy Spirit for help. I needed Him to take away what I had been taught and to allow me to see what He has written in His word…the bible. I needed help to see what He was really saying…not merely what I had been taught He was saying. I needed to hear it from Him…as it were. And He did it. He opened my eyes and removed the bondage I was in to what I had been taught.

Now…I see myself in that place again. Over the years I have read much…walked much…understood much. But there are things that I have been taught since that time many years ago that have not been true…as I am now finding out. There has been error mixed in with the truth…and I need to sort that out.

Emotionally…I have been a wreck. Mentally…I have been in a fog…and drowning with too much input and no consistent for real solitude time. Spiritually…I have been more faithful than I thought, in spite of the confusion I have been experiencing. Yahweh is faithful…and I am so glad, for I could not do life if He was not.

So I am trying to take good care of myself. I am up against some things over which I have no control and very limited influence. However, I will do what I can. The stress of the living situation which adds to the PTSD has me feeling on the edge a lot of the time. I find myself fighting tears and withdrawing. Yet…I am also seeing little things I can do to try to preserve what little sanity I have left. I can only trust in my Abba for those things to work.

It is not easy to maintain when there are three of us in a tiny space. My guys are gone for a few hours today…which I desperately needed. However, just thinking of them coming causes me to feel the stress level starting to rise. So…I will try not to go there. I will get through this.

Blogrolls…

No…not dinner rolls…or the boat rolls…or waves roll…or any other kind of roll. Blog rolls. Every once in a while, I find that I am on someone’s blog roll. It never ceases to surprise me and amaze me. Each time, I think “what on earth do they find in my writings that make them worthy of being put on someone’s blog roll?”

Or I look at my subscriber list. Now…it does not show me who is subscribing. It is just a number. But that number represents real people who think my blog…or a particular post…is worth reading. Again…whenever I happen to look at that part of my stats…I am amazed. Moi? People think moi has something useful to say? Why? It makes me stop and think about why I write.

When I first started blogging, I was sick of the forum scene…not that all forums are bad…they are NOT! In fact, I have experienced some incredible healing in forums. Yet I have also experienced some of the deepest wounding. Plus, forums are limited in their readership. I wanted to be able to share with more people…and, hopefully, get more input. So, I decided to start blogging!

It was my hope…and still is…that when people read here, they find someone who understands…who “gets it”. Someone whose life experiences might not be identical (is anyone’s ever really anyway?)…but someone whose experiences emotionally, and maybe even mentally, are similar.

I hope that you can see someone who keeps on fighting…who keeps on pushing through…even when she wants to give up (like now…but that is another post). I hope that, as I share what works for me…and what does not…it might help you find something that works for you. Or maybe it will help you to not feel so badly if it is not working for you. After all…if it did not work for me either…then just maybe…it is not us. Maybe it is the whatever it is that we were trying that did not work. Or maybe…we just need to work it in a different way and we can help each other to find that way.

I hope that we can learn together. When people comment and share their thoughts, it stimulates dialog. I learn from dialog. I learn from others…which is why I read others’ blogs, too…when I can get to them. My life often makes that difficult, but I do make the rounds when I can. And I always try to find something to comment about in others’ blogs. I do that for two reasons. One is to let them know that they are being read. The other is to affirm them…to encourage them. I know what it is like to write and wonder if anyone is reading…if anyone is “listening”. I know what it is like to share struggles and get…nothing.

So…here I am…amazed again. I just discovered my blog in a blogroll at Crazy-making. I almost have to laugh. The name can sure fit my life at times! Crazy-making. I am working on making it less crazy-making. *smile* I am honored to be included. This blogger is trying to make lists of client bloggers (as opposed to therapist bloggers) and also art bloggers. Very interesting!

It reminds me that I have been wanting to get some of my art work up here…even though I am really not an artist. The focus of my art work is therapy. Believe me…artistry is NOT my talent. My difficulty in getting them up, though, is getting some decent photos of them. I took some  a while back…but I only got some pieces and the quality of the photos is rather poor. I have a much better camera now. It has been a project on my to do list for some time to go some place where I know I can probably get better pics of them. Better lighting. More room.  I need to get that done in plenty of time for me to put something together for an upcoming webinar I am doing on art therapy from a non-artist’s perspective.

Well…that’s it for now. I have lots to do today so I am not sure when I will get back here. It may not be until tomorrow. I hope that everyone reading is doing well. If you are struggling…remember that you are NOT alone! There ARE those who do understand…who do get it…and who do care. Be good to yourself. Also remember that there is a Creator out there who does want to touch your life…who wants to set you free.

Some Quotes…

The Vague Collective…on their blog “The Search for Clarity” has three quotes that I really like. Well…actually she has more than three, but these three are what I want to share right now.

“It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.” – E.E. Cummings So true. It seems like there are so many out there trying to mold us into what they want us to be…which may be entirely different from who we really are. hasatan in the garden tried to mold Adam and Eve into something they were not. His attempts brought sin into the world. He is still trying to mold us. Our parents tried to mold us. Our abusers tried to mold us. Bosses, neighbors, siblings, teachers, etc. …all tried to mold us.

There is only One I want molding me…the Creator of the universe. I want His Ruach/Spirit dwelling within me to mold me. I want Yeshua/Jesus to mold me through what He did for me. I want my heavenly Abba/Father to mold me into the image of His Son…who is an image of Him. I don’t pretend to understand it all. In fact, the more I learn, the more I realize I do NOT know or understand. But I do understand this…Yeshua took on all of my blow-its…all of my ugliness…all of my failures and sinfulness. He paid the penalty so that I would not have to. He opened the door to forgiveness…and freedom. He kept me alive. He keeps me alive. So much of my healing comes from and through Him. He holds me together when I cannot take another step.

As hard as it is…I like being molded into what He created me to be…the me I really am.

“You don’t have a soul. You are a Soul. You have a body.” – C.S Lewis   I really like this. I am not my body. And just as I am not my body…I am also not the things I have done…or the things that have been done to me. I am a Soul. That Soul is unique to me…it makes me who I am…different from every other Soul that has ever existed. My Soul is eternal. My body will fade away…just as my past will fade away…and all the things I have done or that have been done to me will fade away. I am a Soul! I have a body. I like that.

“Love means to love that which is unlovable; or it is no virtue at all.” – GK Chesterton (…and that includes usselfs!)  I agree with Chesterton and I agree with the Vague Collectives add-on. Love that comes easy isn’t really a virtue. There are times in my life that I have not been very lovable. I am so grateful for those people who loved me anyway. They are the truly virtuous ones!

Thank you, Vague Collective, for these quotes!

No Pretending…No Hiding…

I am not going to pretend that I am not struggling…because I am. I spent a HUGE part of my life pretending.

Pretending I was not effected.

Pretending I was not hurt.

Pretending I was not confused.

Pretending I was not angry.

Pretending I was happy.

Pretending I wanted to live.

Pretending I was OK.

Pretending I did not think I was losing my mind.

Some might call it “hiding”.

Hiding my true feelings.

Hiding what I was going through.

Hiding my hurt and pain.

Hiding my anguish.

Hiding my humiliation.

Hiding my fear and lack of confidence.

Pretending…or hiding. Does it really matter what you call it? I just refuse to play the game any more. However…having said that…I am also not going to check my brain at the door. I am smart. A stupid person would not have survived all of this. While I refuse to play the game…I also refuse to expose myself unnecessarily. Some risks are worth taking…and some are not.

Right now…I need help. I cannot get it in the standard survivor places. For whatever reason, the Ship keeps timing me out. Sometimes I can get on just fine…and stay on. Most of the time, however, I cannot get on or I get kicked off fairly soon after getting on. That makes it impossible for me to use the Ship much for getting or giving support.

I have no therapist. I don’t really have any 3D people who support me fully. I have some who care and who support as they can…but they don’t know the “whole” story…and so are only partially useful.

When I think of 3D support…there is a couple who have started coming to mind…a pastor and his wife. It is interesting because, when I first met them, I had a “feeling” I should talk to them. However, at the time, nothing fell into place for that. There was an uncomfortableness…something was in the way. Since then, I have gotten to know them in a different venue. Over time, we have really connected…something that really took off when I listened to the L-rd and went and prayed for them and talked with them after they had gone through something.

Now…as I am getting desperate for some kind of 3D support, they keep coming to mind. Is G-d telling me that I can trust them? That I can be more open with them and they will at least accept it…even if they don’t understand it? I don’t know. I am not rushing into anything. I am going to keep on praying about it.

My pastor knows my Dx, but there are reasons that he and I just will not work out. Plus…with this guy…I am well connected to his wife. That is even better. There is also another pastor who knows my background, but not my Dx. He is really nice…and very caring…but I am just not prepared at this point to open up further with him, either.

So…what will I do with this? I really don’t know…other than keep praying about it. Desperation always passes eventually…but it is awful while in the midst of it. I just know that I need help…I need support…and they keep coming to mind. It would be so nice to have at least one couple that I could be more open with.

There was another couple that I felt pretty comfortable with. Thing is…he has a rather strong personality. I saw him get miffed about something and he scared me. No…he is not scary and he did nothing wrong. Every person has a right to get angry. But something happened inside that I now have to work through. That makes me kind of sad. He is a really neat guy and was OK for quick hugging…in front of his wife, of course. I really like her and connect with her, but their schedule makes it difficult to get together with them. And if we don’t get together…it is kind of difficult to work through the issue of his becoming scary to me.

So no…I am not doing the greatest. I have been worse, but I have also been a lot better. I won’t pretend that I am not having some rough days. I will keep looking to my Creator. He is the only One who can get me through this. Yeshua will never leave me or forsake me. The Ruach makes me strong.

Rough Days

The last few days have been rough. Stuff is happening in life that make things harder. We came home to find a barbed wire fence across our driveway. While it is on the border of the two properties, we share an easement. So, now we have to use a second driveway that is on our land that we have not finished. It is very rough, but we can get in and out. Delivery people can’t…but we can.

It is just one of a few things that have made the last few days difficult. I feel very vulnerable. We have been good neighbors…yet, we have had a “feeling” about this guy ever since we first met him when he bought the property next door.

The fence…barbed wire. I think one of the problems is the barbed wire. It feels so barbaric. I think of the Constantine wire they used on the fence top of the freemason camp not too far from where we last lived…the camp that Matty remembers from when we were in our teens.

The fence…blocking our easy ingress and egress…feeling violated. Sharing in good faith…allowing him to use our creek crossing to get to his separate meadow. Him walking our land and putting in stakes without permission and without us saying anything to him. I feel violated.

He lies. I HATE lies!!!! Says he had a survey done…but there is none registered with the county. It could be he did not register…however, he also could not show the paperwork to the sheriff. He showed a plat map to the fencer implying it was the needed paperwork. It is not. The fencer is now backing off after we showed him that it was just a plat map. The plat map shows the easement.

Angry words…on both sides. Incredulity on ours. Jive on his. Lies and false accusations to try to justify his actions. But they don’t…justify his actions. He just looks petty. We are talking about a tiny corner of his land…a tiny corner…barely big enough to hold our van. The rest of the driveway is on our land.

Stupidity…because of the easement, he could actually insist on having free use of our creek crossing. Now he has no access because he put a fence up. That is OK. We actually like the fence and he is paying for it. But we want it on the right line. He is paying big bucks to get a crossing put in. Good!

The fence…separation. Sometimes separation is a GOOD thing…like now.

Words…our place is an eyesore. We supposedly have money to fix it up. Yeah, right. That is why my guys are working on the driveway and crossing with shovels and 5 gallon buckets rather than renting a loader to move the rock and gravel. My guy has been unemployed. Neighbor thinks we should sell motorcycles to get money. Yeah right. Mine has not run since before we moved onto the land and hubby’s needs a tire we cannot afford. It is not like he has seen us out riding them around.

Attempted justification…just like the abusers. Always “good” reasons for what they do. Liars! It is all about control and manipulation.

This guy and his wife are lost people. We have the Creator to turn to. Our heavenly Abba comforts us. Who do they have? We pray for them.

Ugly fence…barbed fence…a reminder of how lost they are. A reminder to pray for them and show love to them anyway. If it is legal…I will hang pretty ribbons on fence “to keep our chickens on our side”…but really…to make a thing of beauty out of a thing of ugliness. I will make it beautiful. When I have money…I will plant pretty shrubbery on the fence line. Or flowers.

Ugliness…to beauty. Ugly fence to beautiful fence. Ugly attitude on one side of fence…beautiful attitude on this side…as best we can.

He is hurting himself more than he is hurting us. We have the L-rd to turn to. We have an inner joy that he cannot steal.

The days have been rough. It has felt like darkness closing in as I have been overwhelmed. It amazes me how it can overtake me. PTSD has been triggered. After we came home to the fence I found I could not type…constant mistakes. An my words…they kept getting mixed up…both in typing and verbally. Very triggered.

Then came the darkness closing in…between that and all the other things going on in life. Deep inner sense of spiritual peace…but emotional darkness. It seems like a contradiction…a paradox. Yet it is there. I know who I am. I know in Whom I trust. Yet…emotionally I can be falling into a dark hole. The way it overtakes makes me wonder if it is something that is being triggered…like a program…rather than merely the emotional fallout of recent events. I don’t know. I am just here for the ride…and hanging on.

This year the anniversary of my sister’s death actually effected me less. She died on my birthday. I still have my moments of grief. This year was better…or perhaps I was too distracted by neighbor’s meanness? Or maybe it was both. I don’t know.

So, here I am. I am going to have to stop writing and go to bed. Our living situation pretty much forces me to follow someone else’s sleep schedule. It is really wearing me out. It is no one’s fault…but I feel captive to someone else’s way of living. We do try to compromise…he tries very hard. But when you have one little living space shared by all…well…he needs more sleep than I do. There is no other room to go into. So…I try not to go completely insane in the process. I keep trusting and hoping that we will get out of this soon. It has been over 4 years.