Opening Up

Bleh, I’m sick and I have so much to write about. Let’s be realistic. I’m not going to be able to write about all the things I do or even all the things I plan to write about. That’s life. So I’m just going to write about what I can write about. What’s the biggest thing that has been going on in my life lately? Well, it hasn’t been pleasant. It’s been horrible, interesting, enlightening, and painful. In order for all of this to make sense, though, I have to go back and explain something amazing that happened several days ago. I had gone camping with some of my friends, which is an interesting story in itself. After we packed up and went our separate ways I was hit with a horribly familiar feeling. I couldn’t quite place it because it had been so long since I’d felt it. I was feeling anxiety, a lot of anxiety. My heart and thoughts were racing. My limbs and gut went numb and I drove like a maniac. I didn’t understand what was happening or why I felt the way I did. It was like the few days before then (when I started to have body memories again) had piled up in me and I reached breaking point. I felt isolated and I hurt so bad. I tried to tough it out. I was on the road to my house, so close to my house that I could almost see it. Then I saw him. I saw my abuser’s car as it passed me going the opposite direction. I fell to pieces. I debated a whole lot about what to do. I didn’t feel safe at all. The anxiety was like a horrible countdown clock threatening imminent danger. My thoughts were irrational. Somehow the huge latch Dad put on the door for me looked like a twig and I was sure that it wouldn’t stop my abuser from getting inside. He once took apart a doorknob to get to me. The friend I normally went to for help was really sick that day. I didn’t want to bother her. I knew she cared, but she felt so bad that helping me, no matter how much she wanted to help, would make her feel worse. I had been writing and thinking about all the bad habits and patterns that I had been breaking as I healed. Not asking for help and suffering alone is one of those bad patterns. I decided to take a chance and trust. I texted another good friend of mine. I asked her to pray for me because I was really struggling. She texted back and I opened up to her. I let her know what was bothering me and how I was feeling. Actually, before I started telling her, I hadn’t realized that I was afraid. Truth be told I was terrified. She invited me to her house. She told me she wanted to help and that she wanted me to be safe. It took a lot of convincing on her part. I just find it so hard to believe that I’m not a burden to other people. Trusting my friend and going to her house was one of the best things I did. I could have tried to deal with it alone, but I’ve seen the results of that time and time again and, trust me, it isn’t pretty.

I was super super nervous as I pulled into my friend’s driveway. I was shaking. You know that feeling when you feel like you’re an inch tall? That’s how I felt. I was embarrassed, ashamed, nervous, anxious, hopeful, and desperate. My friend met me at the door. I found it hard to look her in the eyes. It’s hard to do that after you bare your soul to someone, especially if it wasn’t in person. She hugged me. Some wounds are in a place so deep that words alone cannot heal them. This simple act was worth a million encouraging words to me. I was scared and anxious, just like I had been when I told my parents about the abuse. The difference, this time I was met with a reassuring hug. I didn’t have to have it all together; my friend just wanted me to be okay.

We talked . . . a lot. I was shocked by how willing she was to listen because a lot of people would rather distract me from the pain. I have to process it; running from it only postpones it. I found out how closed I’d become as I talked. I was so nervous, so afraid of rejection that I’m sure at some points my voice must have shook. It was hard to talk but I needed to talk about so many things. I talked about the abuse, PTSD, anxiety, how I cope, my parents, etc. Everything is so tied together. I realized that I couldn’t tear down every wall. I could only become vulnerable to a point. I wasn’t able to show how I really felt when I talked. Instead I talked about things in a joking tone and smiled and laughed a lot. I cope using humor a lot. It was either laugh or cry. Crying felt too vulnerable, so I laughed. This may sound strange, but it’s how I protect myself. Sometimes I can’t face everything at once and I have to take things one at a time. In this case I could handle sharing the content but not the emotion that goes with the content.

I decided to break a bad pattern that day and I’m so glad I did. I am so blessed to have opened up to my friend. Having more than just one person to go to when I’m really struggling is really comforting and it makes me feel more sane. When only one person tells you you’re not crazy it’s hard to believe it, especially when you do crazy things and feel like a lunatic. But when two people together agree and tell you you’re not crazy and you’re not bad and you’re not a burden . . . It’s easier to trust what they say and believe them.


This is Simply Life by Faith


-Jerelle

Friends, Pong, and Tea Parties

5-?-11

Okay, so I think I’ve figured out how to do this. So much has happened this past week that there’s no way that I can talk about it all. Therefore, I’m going to hit some of the big things that happened, definitely not all because that would be impossible. The first major highlight was finding out that I’m related to one of my very best friends. One of her father’s cousins passed away and the funeral was held at my home church. Her father’s cousin turned out to also be my father’s cousin. It was so awesome finding out that I’m related to such an awesome person. I was surprised, though, by how happy my friend was to find out we’re related. See, I have a strong inferiority complex. Her excitement when she told me puzzled me, but it also started to correct the skewed image I have of myself. I don’t know if I’ve just healed to the point that I can start to accept the good things my friends say about me or if God chose this particular friend to break through the lies I believe about myself. Instead of arguing with her when she says something that contradicts the lies, I find that I can’t honestly believe the lies when she contradicts them. My arguments get stuck in my throat and the voices in my head that used to scream the lies louder when challenged are silenced. I have much more to say about this amazing friend of mine, but I’m saving it for a whole post of its own.

Another highlight, though not as cool, was playing the Atari for the very first time. I played Pong! I’ve wanted to try Pong for a long time because it’s like the very beginning of video games. I expected it to be super easy, I mean how hard can batting a dot back and forth be? I was greatly mistaken. Pong is a very simple game but it challenged me. The little line I controlled to hit the dot moved much slower than the dot did and the dot would bounce off the sides of the screen in unpredictable ways. I had to focus on prediction and reaction time. The game wasn’t really hard, but the simplicity, complexity, and addictiveness of it impressed me. I would definitely play it again and not just because of its historical value.

Another one of my awesome friends decided to have a tea party before she left for her mission trip. We had hot tea, cold tea, and strawberry lemonade. The menu included enchilada soup, cookies, cake, donuts, cinnamon rolls, and dessert. My friend wanted our time together as a group to be meaningful and constructive. One really cool thing we did was make blue jean bracelets. She passed out strips of denim material and we wrote on our strip a goal that we had for this summer, something we wanted to be lifted up in prayer. On mine I wrote “Learn how to use my past to share God with others.” After writing our goal we put our denim strips in a bowl and mixed them up. We then drew at random a strip that wasn’t our own, twisted it, and tied it on our wrist as a bracelet. The bracelet would remind us to pray for one another, particularly the person whose strip we drew. We wrote down that person’s goal so we could remember it and pray for that person to reach her goal. I think it’s an awesome way for us to lift each other up in Christ. After that, our friend decided to wash our feet. Washing feet is an imitation of Jesus washing the feet of his disciples. It symbolizes love, humility, and the cleansing of sins. As she came around to each one of us, she prayed for us individually. When she came to me she thanked God for my humor and how I can always make her laugh. That touched me because I love to make people laugh. Seeing someone smile and laugh is one of the most beautiful things on earth. At the same time I was a little sad because my friend led up to thanking God for my humor by saying that we haven’t had a lot of deep talks. I am a very deep person. I love to have deep talks, learn about my friends, and share my life with others. I could not live without going deep. Her comment made me really think about how much I open up to people and go deep with them. I realized that I haven’t really opened up to her or really any of the friends sitting there with me besides my roommate. I used to open up to other people, but lately I’d withdrawn and held people at arms length. Then I realized that I didn’t open up to them because I was too busy protecting myself from further harm. Though I’m a deep person, I was hurt on a very very deep level in my past. I was afraid to open up to my friends, afraid for them to see the real me. I may act like everything is fine and I’m doing great, but a lot of the time I’m not okay and I hurt terribly. I hide the hurt because a little voice in my mind tells me that if my friends really knew the real me, they’d leave, they’d hate me. I can’t explain why they would leave and why they would hate me. It’s an irrational thought and I’ve healed so much to even be able to recognize that as an irrational thought. Before this I hadn’t realized how high and thick my protective walls were. I let people only get so close to me. I don’t want that. I want to open up to people. I want to break down my walls and let people in, it’s just a really scary thing to do because once I let the walls down other people are free to either love me or hurt me. The love sounds wonderful, but the possibility of being hurt by one of my friends is an unbearable thought, and it’s happened before. Once you’re betrayed by someone close to you, someone you call a friend, it’s hard to make yourself vulnerable to another person who could do the same if he/she wanted.

I was so glad that God showed me this about myself. He chose to show me through a friend’s prayer. I have a lot of respect and admiration for this particular friend. She does and says a lot of funny things and that’s awesome and I love that about her. The big thing, however, is her humility and great desire to reflect Jesus. She is a woman who has taken her heart and handed it wholly to Jesus. She is a great example of faith and reliance on God. One of the things that really impress me is her resolve and boldness to say what’s on her heart and to share God with everyone she meets. God is not just the big guy upstairs or a God that we just pay attention to on Sunday to her. God touches every part of her life and she’s acutely aware of it. She runs with all her might towards God and I think that’s beyond awesome. She really encourages and challenges me to seek God in everything. I’m glad because everyone needs a friend that isn’t afraid to point them to the only One who can heal their every hurt and overcome every problem.

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-Jerelle