I feel so dumb today… I got home after work and gathered my things and got everything in the house and realized I could not find my car key…. It was after 11 pm and very dark out, so I grabbed a flashlight and searched all over the yard between the house and the car and could not find the key… I finally found it – I locked it in the car!! UGH! I don’t have any other key and the clicker is quite old and no longer works at all… We really cannot afford a lock-smith and I don’t know what I’m going to do… I hate it when I do things like this. I know we all make mistakes and are forgetful from time to time and I know intellectually that I am being hard on myself…but emotionally, I feel like I’ve made some major horrible mistake. Thank God for grace….now, if I could only apply that same grace to myself.
Tag Archive: father
This has been an emotional and triumphant week for me. I never imagined that I would be in this particular place. On Wednesday I was asked to be a guest speaker for a small group. I was asked to simply share my story and was told that many of the women attending would benefit from this. I spoke to a group of women (and 2 men) and told them my story. I told them about this life, this pain, this fear and this healing. It was terrifying to speak to strangers so openly…to lay my heart open to them and trust that they would handle it with loving-kindness. The response was over-whelming. I was so moved by their compassion… and so much more… they seemed so genuinely touched by my words… they were moved to share their own stories and we hugged and cried and prayed together. These wonderful people opened their homes, lives and hearts to me and trusted me with their truth. There are no words for how powerful and moving it was. On Sunday we stopped half-way home and visited my aunt and uncle – the first family I have had contact with in over two years. I was able to open up to them and to share my heart with them as well… and they received me without rejection or criticism. After so many years of silence I am finding my voice and I feel like a new woman. I am not saying that I am suddenly healed after years of abuse, fear, anger etc… but I feel a new strength… This week brought so many surprises… so much hope… and for the first time in a long time I feel that my recovery WILL one day be complete. I know life is a journey and I have far yet to go, but I know I will be ok… I am no longer focused on surviving my life… I am finding ways to live my life and to help others do the same.
I am struggling today. I feel lost in my own mind and I fear I may go mad if I do not connect with someone. I need desperately to get outside of my own head. It feels dangerous and crowded in here. I do anything, everything to distract myself, to be ok – but none of it is working today. I had this idea in my mind that I would go out to eat after work and sit and sip a nice coffee while I read and was totally at peace with myself and my surroundings… I would get lost in the moment and allow myself to relax in a public setting. I would dine alone with relish at the space – all the room for my own thoughts and ideas and creative urges… I brought along my journal and was READY. I was prepared for great inspiration and deep connecting to my heart. What I actually did was drive between 3 different restaurants in a fit of indecision for about half an hour before deciding to eat at a place I’ve never heard of just because it was getting late and I was verging on panic. So I parked and went inside. It was quiet, only a hand-full of other diners – that is, until I got there. Apparently the dinner rush came right behind me and the place transformed from a quiet haven to a bustling noisy nerve-jangling room full of voices and smells of food and bodies. Now, I know the place was not as full as my mind was making it out to be – but in my anxiety-filled state of mind it felt like a crowd pressing upon me… so no peace. I ate fast and got out of there. Next I figured I could at least go to the nearest coffee shop and pull up a chair and be politely ignored while I read or journal. I arrived at Starbucks (not exactly what I had in mind but I’m still learning my way around this town) and ordered with confidence and sat at a tall table in the tiny coffee shop. I read a chapter of my book (although, in retrospect, I cannot tell you what I read) and sipped my mocha. I made myself read slowly and to sip my drink with apparent relish… but I was not fooling myself. My heart raced, my palms were sweaty and I was hyper aware of every person in the room and through the corner of my eye kept tabs on the people around me. Will I ever get beyond this need to look over my shoulder? Will I ever not feel his eyes on me? Will I ever stop listening for his footsteps coming up behind me? Will I ever forget the feel of his rough hands, stubbled chin…the smell of his after-shave? Will I ever purge myself of this man? Will I ever be able to stay in the moment without escaping into the nearest distraction? Will I ever feel at home in my own skin again? Will I ever stop feeling like a disappointment, a failure? Will his voice ever leave my ears? What ifs plague me. What if he haunts me my entire life. What if I never get better? What if … what if …




