Thursday, October 4, 2012

My secret identity

Shh. I am going to let you in on a secret. I am a sensitive person. I know, I know! This goes against everything you know about me. ;)

I try to project an image of self-reliance, control, and independence. This is a big, fat lie. While I tend to make up my own mind about issues and preferences, I do absorb opinions and commentary about myself from others. Whenever a friend or family member makes an off-hand remark about me or my life, I swallow it, play around with it in my mind, and adjust my view of myself based on this impression. I will admit this happens more often with negative remarks, even spoken in jest, than with positive ones. I minimize or justify the positive comments or pass the credit, but I accept the negative ones as truth. I think I am getting better about rejecting negative statements, but it is much like trying to conjure a Patronus charm. You have to believe in it before you can produce it, but you have to produce it before you can believe it enough to produce it. It sounds very much like "fake it 'til you make it." I do not blame the other person for saying anything, since it is not their fault for how I receive information.

I feel things very deeply. The benefit of this is that I feel compassion for others' suffering. I hate seeing people hurt, especially those closest to me. I suspect this is why God gave me a not-so-good father. I can relate to people who have had a less than Norman Rockwell family life. I am not trying to insinuate that those who have good family relations don't care, but you can never really fully appreciate someone's situation until you have been through the same, or at least similar, struggles.

Since I'm sharing secrets, I might as well add one more. Not everyone knows this, but I have hinted a couple of different times about my situation with my father. It would take too long a post to fill you in on the entire relationship, but the main chunk of it is that my adopted father sexually abused me. I'm not sure precisely when it began, but I suspect it started from roughly around 6 years old and continued off an on until my parents separated, and then from 16-18 it was the most frequent. I remember hearing about children that had been abused, and I would think, "Oh, those poor kids." Consciously, I had no idea that what I was going through was abuse. Something about abuse, though, is that while I may not have known I was abused at the time, I knew whatever was happening was wrong; however, I would internalize it. Especially in regards to the teenage years, I blame myself for what happened. Now, if any of my nieces or friends came to me and told me they were abused, I would NEVER blame them for anything that was done to them, and logically, I know this is true in my case as well. I don't know why my heart won't believe me or anyone else when I hear that. I have gone to therapy and gone to survivor groups as well. Both have helped, but I always come up against the same roadblocks. I don't want to talk about what has happened since there is no way to change it. I focus more on the effects.

 Basically, I get in my own way. I pride myself on being brave, straight shooter, and unimpressionable, but as we've seen from above, this is hardly the case. At the first sign of intimacy, I flee the other way. I will either pull away and shut myself away from you, or I will go the other extreme and give you all my baggage and "shock" you into leaving. I like to test people close to me. Thankfully, I have not always sabotaged my own life, and so I do have close friends in my life that I can turn to.

Seeing as the abuse was from my father, you can see that this affects my relationship with God. It took me approximately 24 years to begin my journey towards realizing God loves me and I only reached that realization this past April on Palm Sunday(Orthodox). Obviously, I still struggle.

This past weekend, my head went into a "bad" place. Someone made a comment, and I internalized it, and I began to doubt my relationship with someone compared to another friend. Of course, with everything begins a small seed. More doubts followed soon after, and then it transferred to God and the Theotokos. I could feel the spiritual attack planting more thoughts in my head and becoming angry and bitter. So, I cleaned. When I feel disturbed, I "stress" clean. Usually, you can tell how bothered I am internally with how busy I am keeping myself. If I am busy, I don't have time to think, right? I know God can handle anger. I'm not afraid at being angry at God, but I do worry about where dwelling in the anger will take me.

And, do you know what made me snap out of  bad 24-hour period? That's right, the same thing that always does--music!
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You hold the weight of the world 
Still I don't slip through your hands 
Your love is bigger 
Than just a notion built by man 

I fall again and again 
But You whisper, "You're still mine" 
You feel the pain of the world 
But You never push mine aside 

And You reach for me 
With a love that quiets all my fears 
And You reach for me 
Like a Father wipes away the tears 

So many people in this world 
But I hear You calling out my name 
You reach for me 
Now I'm never gonna be the same 

You know all of my fears 
There's nothing Your eyes can't see 
When I tried to give up 
Lord, You never gave up on me 

I give You all of my hopes and dreams 
I lay them down 
Of all the place I've looked 
You're the one truth I have found 

And You reach for me 
With a love that quiets all my fears 
And You reach for me 
Like a Father wipes away the tears 

So many people in this world 
But I hear You calling out my name 
You reach for me 
Now I'm never gonna be the same 

You hold the weight of the world
Still I don't slip through Your hands 
You put the stars in the sky 
You know every grain of sand

But You reach for me 
With a love that quiets all my fears 
And You reach for me 
Like a Father wipes away the tears 

So many people in this world 
But I hear You calling out my 
You reach for me 
Now I'm never gonna be the same 

You reach for me
For me

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