Friday, May 22, 2009

Raw

Dear God,

I feel lost today...quiet in my spirit yet searching for something I can't seem to find. I don't know where to go so I don't know how to get there. It's elusive and causing emotional and mental pain. My body feels burdened by a load it cannot carry. My mind seems void - there is nothing to talk about.

Jeff told me to write about the last 24 hours. I'm to include how I felt in the moment and how the experiences are affecting me now. I'm not sure what to say. My prayer is that your Holy Spirit will write what needs to come out because right now the safest place I still feel is in the arms of my friend Jill who held me while I sobbed. Here it goes.

I've been physically busy this month. The month started with a hospitalization for a kidney stone and colonoscopy. The next week I was on pain meds for spasms from the stint but still had to make phone calls to keep some disability related business going. This week I've been exhausted from vivid dreams, God's ridiculous provision for my "final" needs and I just plain have run out of energy.

By Wednesday, I was so tired I didn't want to go to Celebrate Recovery. I was depleted of energy, so much so that I was going to stay home. I remembered there was going to be someone from another church sharing her testimony which caused me all the more not want to go. But Jill and I had been sharing emails and were excited to see each other after three weeks of not being able to. I decided to go because I wanted a hug from my friend.

As I listened to the woman share her testimony, which included her time in Celebrate Recovery, I started feeling bothered. I remembered the days when I would share my story at various AA open meetings or Al-Anon meetings. We were taught to share what it was like, what happened and what it's like now. The point being don't dwell on the past, describe your transformation and bring hope to those who are still struggling by carrying the message not spreading the disease.

I tried really hard to keep an open mind as everyone has their own way of sharing their testimony. But when I heard two phrases I emotionally vanished. The first was this: "I'm a sexual predator." The second was, "This happened to me for me." After those two phrases I was triggered and I shut down for the safety of my own well-being.

It's not my job to say what anybody is or isn't. But it's very hard to sit there and think to yourself, "Lady you have no idea what you're talking about." I felt the forum of our attention was abused by someone who is looking for attention by using the "P" word. And if the sin of this world "happened to me" for me then the God of the Bible is a falsehood (which of course I don't believe).

Needless to say, when she was finished I was shaken up and wanted to cut. She ended up in our group and I knew not to say anything. I didn't trust her, her motives and I didn't hear her praise Christ - she praised the program. I prayed and asked the Holy Spirit what to do during the group time. I felt him leading me to give her encouragement about the tough stuff she shared citing visual points of when it seemed hard for her to talk. I wanted to give her praise for her courage but I couldn't give positive feedback for what she'd shared.

Did I honor God in that moment? I think so. Did I honor myself, my triggers and my needs? Most definitely. When the meeting was over and Jill and I were outside, I couldn't leave without having her hold me so I could cry. There was a little girl inside who was broken and needed her friend. Jill held onto me for several minutes as I sobbed. I told her I was triggered and she tightened her hold. She told me to call her when I got home. On the drive home, I had to use the rubber band on my wrist so I wouldn't cut. I only have some blood bumps and a bruise but it stopped me from cutting. We talked for almost two hours so I could process what I was thinking and feeling.

The next day (Thursday) I had to have the stint removed. I was in a physically vulnerable position and once the procedure was about to begin I started crying. I told the nurse I had childhood sexual abuse and I needed she and the doctor to just keep talking to me during the removal process. I'm not going to go into detail but when the doctor said, "Spread your legs and relax" I heard words that had been said before by multiple perpetrators. When the procedure was done, I felt numb.

Something is happening as I write this. I keep staring at these words and my ability to type is being interrupted by memories. It's like I'm disassociating as I type so I'm going to stop now.

Amy