Eight

Biblically, the number 8 represents new beginnings.

Eight years ago today, I attempted to take my own life. At the time, I had been thinking about it for a very long time. I had a plan for a very long time, but didn’t have the courage. I never feared death, I feared what would happen to me afterwards. Would I go to hell? But, like I explained in a previous post, I was already living in hell. For a really long time.

I needed an escape. The small glimmer of hope of things getting better kept me alive. But that night on 7/11/10, I just couldn’t take it anymore. I was impulsive. It just took a fight with my parents and a fear that my dad would physically hurt me, to be the draw that broke the camel’s back.

Fast forward 8 years. It has been such a roller coaster. I have been really down many times, considering suicide once again. I have also felt moments of happiness that felt like spiritual bliss. I’m still not entirely sure why God didn’t let me die. I believe everyone has a purpose on this earth. I feel like I partially know mine, however, I also feel like I may have gotten it wrong?

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Chose this picture I took for butterflies are viewed as a symbolism of a new creation. Also, at one point, The Butterfly Project helped me not self-harm as often.

Since college I have known that Isaiah 61:1-3 is my calling verse. I’m still not sure that I’m on the right path to fulfill that calling. I so often feel not qualified to be a therapist, when I still very much feel like I haven’t dealt with my own baggage yet. How could I possibly help others heal when I can’t even get it together? Or even when I’m doing well I’m still always triggered by clients!

So, for the time being, I’m just cruising through life. Trusting that if God has something else for me, He’ll open the door. I’m going to continue to go to work everyday and just do the best I can, for that day. When I feel helpless in a case, just pray for that client. And most importantly utilize my support system. My supervisor. My friends. My boyfriend. My therapist. I don’t think there’s much else I can do right now.

I’m thankful for the progress that I have made in eight years. I learn more and more about myself each day. I used to wait for the day where I would wake up and not be depressed anymore. Now, I’ve realized that this is a recurrent thing. I need to be attentive to my body and know when it’s coming. Know my warning signs. Teach the people who love me my warning signs. And theres nothing to be ashamed of with that.

I’m taking today, 8 years from the day I faced death, as a new beginning. A new day.

A new era to be alive.

 

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Mental ______

There has been a lot of shame lately wrapped around mental illness lately, for me at least. Im a therapist. I’m expected to have it all together, so when clients come to me I can hold their baggage with them. I wish that was my assumption, but my supervisor told me that. It makes it seem like it’s not okay for me to go through my own struggle. Don’t get me wrong, I love what I do, despite at times not exactly knowing what I’m doing – but I know that’s part of the learning process.

So recently I’ve found myself at this place where I’ve had to be really secretive about the things I’m going through, even though I work at a “community mental health” place. Despite their encouragement of promoting mental health and being open and vulnerable, I can’t share anything because it would show I’m incompetent. Maybe even “one of them.” Now that last part is my assumption, but that’s how I feel lately. I haven’t been feeling my best lately. I’ve found that even taking medication I don’t have this dark cloud over my head anymore, but I often just wish I wouldn’t be on earth anymore. I know I have a lot of people who love me and support me, so I feel guilty for feeling like that. I’m just tired of this fight. I thought it’d be over by now.

Screen Shot 2018-06-08 at 7.31.11 AMLast year when I stopped taking medication, I truly thought I was cured. I thought that by some miracle, God cured me. Sounds silly, but I really did. Accepting that I had to go back on medication this past February was so difficult for me. I thought I was past that. Not that theres anything wrong with it, I promote taking medication. I just didn’t want to accept that I was at that deep dark place again, and that I was going to be here for a while.

It doesn’t help that I don’t feel supported at work. I have to lie when I take a day off because I had a break down and I feel too mentally incapable to hear other people’s problems. I wish that at a mental health facility, I can be open about my own mental health. Maybe that’s asking for too much. I don’t know. Also doesn’t help that after all these years struggling with this I still hear people say things about how “all I need is more prayer.” How “look within and be depressed, look at Christ and be at rest.” Like oh no! I didn’t know I could be cured with a simple rhyme!!!! TYSM!!!

“It would not be wise to live by a supposed faith, and cast off the physician and his medicines, any more than to discharge the butcher, and the tailor, and expect to be fed and clothed by faith,” -Charles Spurgeon 

Why is it called mental ILLNESS anyway. I’m okay. I’m pushing through even though I wanna give up. I might be like this forever, but who knows. Am I ill? Is that implying that there is a brain out there that is normal? What is normal? We all have different brain chemistries. Mine isn’t less than, and neither is anyone else’s. There is nothing to be ashamed about. I know I have to remind myself of that a lot. I have to remind myself I’m on a journey. I have to hope and pray it’ll get better in time, but regardless I can’t be ashamed.

Princess

Why is it that we grow up learning things about God, we read it every day (or try to read it every day, I’m not always to faithful to my daily Jesus alone time), we hear it in church – yet somehow we forget it? Nothing else in my life is constant and never changing like the word of God. Nothing has been there for me despite challenges and obstacles like God has.

WHY do I feel so crappy now-a-days, allowing stress, bad news, anxiety, whatever it may be, knock me down. When instead I should be believing and trusting in God? (Ya know, all the things I logically know to do)

I have struggled in so many different aspects in my life and God has heard my prayers and changed my circumstances. Throughout the years, He has proven himself faithful time and time again on so many occasions – little and big. In the moment, it seems as if He is silent, but He never fails to show how much He cares about me on every level. And I know this, by reading from the bible (the book I said was real constant remember?) AND from very real experiences. He cares, He loves, He won’t ever abandon, and He has my back.

So, uhhhh, why do I stress out so much about my life and how it’s going? Even when I don’t think I’m stressing out, it’s almost like my subconscious has anxiety. It manifests by dysregulated mood, tearfulness, random outburst, etc. Of course all those things are likely a combination of stressors in my life, anxiety, fears, defense mechanisms, and honestly, probably hormones. But still, I’m like freaking out more than I should be..

But in reality why do I have so much anxiety about my present circumstances? If I’m doing the right thing? (that one is major) If I picked the right field to work in? I get anxiety and afraid when I can’t figure out whether or not I’m happy. That sounds crazy, but it’s true! Why am I so fearful for my future when I know God’s already there.

I have learned this my whole life, I read this all the time and hear about it often in church. But it’s like I forget when it comes to my own life. I need to surrender all these things. I need to trust that God really does care about every single part of me, no matter what size. That he authored the way my heart expresses itself, but He wants to hear about it in prayer. I need to trust that He really does love me and for that he won’t ever abandon me. God has shown me that no matter what the Bible is true and He will always have my back for I am His daughter.

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Jaded

Its been about 8 months of full time work, and I hate to be a debby downer, but man am I miserable. This is just not what i thought it would be like.

I’m not helping people like I wanted to, or yet like I have a passion or calling to. Im already jaded and burnt out and I’m so early in my career. I already feel like I can’t do this anymore.

I keep thinking about how there has to be more. I see all these people On Facebook going on mission trips. I think about three that I’ve been on and realize thats when I was the happiest. I was never as happy as I was in Israel.. I’ve been reflecting a lot of my time there since it’s been about a year. I so desperately want to go back.

There has to be more to this life. And I know that many people are called to be missionaries in their own field. But is that really me? I find hard time finding peace in that. As much as I love social justice and advocacy, I’m not sure I love being social work field – at least not right now I don’t.

It breaks my heart to even say that. As if everything I’ve worked so hard for was nothing. As if these people I’m working for don’t need help, because I know they do. But no one really understands how it is and less they are doing it. No one understands how emotionally draining it is and as a result you become so burnt out. No one understands how people take advantage of you, so you become so jaded and stop caring.

God I pray you show me what you want me to do. I pray you open up doors. I pray you get me out of this job, and get me to another one. I keep thinking about how I want to be as happy as I was in Israel. How it’s not realistic for me to travel all over the world and do it I love, but you’re the same God everywhere.

So I know that joy, the same one I experienced on Mt. Carmel, is possible anywhere.

 

Wake me up when September ends 

I havent stopped to collect my thoughts in awhile. I feel like im on this moving train and there’s no stopping. Like i’ve been pushing myself to the limits week after week, and not stopping. My job forces me to take care of others. I guess i havent stopped to take care of myself. Im so exhausted all the time.. mentally and emotionally. 

I see people move on without me. People who once cared about me, i wonder if they remember me. I wonder if this resentment will ever go away. Then I wonder if all of this is because I’m just starting my career. 

Will this end? Can i get it together? Will i find my place in life? How much longer can i keep pushing myself week after week? When will the right doors open? 

I cant help but have so many questions on the back of my mind. I cant help but not be happy even though i’ve worked so hard to be where i am today. I’m not exactly sure where to go from here or even who to turn to anymore. From the outside it probably looks like im doing fantastic, but i dont know what to do with these unwavering feelings anymore. 

God i pray you hear me. I pray you see me when i feel invisible and see my weary heart. Thank you for not forgetting about me when i feel like the world has moved on without me. 

Waiting Games

What is it about social media that makes us feel like we have to post things about ourselves to feel good? What’s that saying? If a tree fall falls in a forest, and no one is a around to hear it, does it make a sounds? Today’s translation: If you don’t post anything on social media about who you’re with/what you’re doing, did it even happen?

Lately I’ve found myself in a continuos cycle of deleting my social media apps, then re-download them when I’m bored. I’ve grown envious of other people’s “picture perfect” lives. I’ve become sadden that my life is not where I want it to be. It’s dumb, but I keep thinking, “I never have anything to post.” That I don’t have the job that others do, that I’m not as smart, as pretty, I don’t have as much fun, and I’m not in that perfect relationship. I know everything online is only for show and people only post the good things, but it’s been affecting me.

Recently, my ex-boyfriend got married. Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m very happy for him and he deserves nothing but the best. His wife is a sweetheart and they both looked great on their big day. But, why does it bother me that they got married? I mean don’t have feelings for him. I really just think it’s because I want that. I want to get married to my perfect someone and have a house and be established in life. This is how my week started.

Why is this stuff bothering me? When logically, I know to trust in God. I know that His plans are greater. I know I’m on my own journey and things will happen in it’s own time. I know they will, they always have. Sooo.. Why am I still upset over it? Of course, it really doesn’t help that the guy I like doesn’t care for me, that the job I want isn’t happening, that I feel stuck in life… etc.

I write this to remind myself to TRUST. One of the things I struggle with the most in life. But I know God knows what He’s doing. If it’s His will, the guy I like will be interested in me (I mean were pretty much perfect for each other soo likee…) But even if he doesn’t, one day I’m believing that the right someone will. Until then, I know I am to continue to pursue the heart of God because it is only in God that my future husband will find me. Also, I know the right job will appear, because what’s presented to me right now is stressing me out and not ideal. I know I’ll be able to move out one day, even know I really want to move out now.

This is my note to self and to anyone who may read this. Stop psyching yourself out with people on social media. Social media is not real life, it’s nothing worth being upset over. Delete the apps forever, if it’s better for your mental health. Your day will come to be a relationship. Enjoy your single hood. Your day will come to work at the right job. Enjoy the days you have off, deal with the crappy job. Your day will come to move out. Save up while you can. Just wait patiently. Trust wholeheartedly. God knows you, He loves you, and He has your wellbeing in mind at all times.

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GOLD out of garbage

I find myself in this place often. I’ve been here for most of my life, for as long as I can remember.

Angry. Hurt. Upset. Unsafe. Angry. Exploited. Angry. Angry. Angry.

I’ve written him an open letter once before. I frequently go back revise and re-edit according to how I’m feeling lately. i may even update it according to how I’m feeling recently. I never have the courage to write the things that’s actually happen though.

But really- it’s sad that things even still happen on the continuous basis. When will this end? When will this fear end? When will I go to bed feeling comfortable in my own house, feeling safe in my own skin?

I used to think I could grow out of all this. That it was temporary. That maybe when I was older things would get better. Tow silly of me. Things are only getting worse. I got the news today that my mom was leaving again. We all know how that went last time.

I feel stuck – not financially ready to live on my own but in desperate need to leave this house. Should I feel guilty for leaving my sister behind? I kind of do, although I know I shouldn’t. This isn’t about being considerate, this is survival.

I know this is just my life, my unfortunate circumstance. I just wish things were different. I envy people who have healthy relationships with their dad, but it also freaks me out. I’ve been conditioned to think that no biological dad is worthwhile. Of course, I’ve dreamt of being walked down the aisle and of my future kids having a good grandfather, but none of that is worth any attempt at a relationship with him. forgiveness is different from reconciliation. If I’m being honest, my only wish is that my mom believed me and stood by my side protecting me.

I don’t have the willpower to talk about anything that happens at home with anyone anymore. I use to talk about it, but now I just end up bottling it all up (I know that’s bad). Only because truthfully, not one person listening or saying “wow that sucks, I’m sorry” will make me feel better. It won’t change my circumstances. It would never even come close to having my mom validate my feelings – I think that may be the only thing that makes me feel better right now. So, I feel worse when I try to talk things out. I’m only reminded about how I should feel safe, and how these things are not ok. So really what’s the point? I’d rather just keep it all to myself and deal with my reality as is.

All in all, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t live here. I can’t fight this fight. I can’t pretend. I need to run, but I have no place to go. I’m drowning and my lungs are running out of air. No one see this, no one can know anything. How I long to escape this place and make a name for myself. To tell the world that I made it, despite it all.

How thankful I am to have a Father that loves me unconditionally and would never hurt me. He has made me his precious daughter and looks at me like a jewel in His crown. I’ve always struggled to see my God as my Father, because I struggle with my earthly father. But man do I know my Heavenly Father’s radical and raging love for me surpasses all of my heartache. He has been healing my wounds and working to bind up my broken heart in ways I could have never imagined. It’s painful, but growth typically is.

My circumstances are still the same. I still feel trapped. I still feel like I’m drowning and that I want to run away. I’m still hurt, angry, upset, etc. and still have a need to be validated and believed. Everything I said still stands true. But I know my Dad is up to something. He loves me too much to allow me to go through everything without any reason. He is going to make something beautiful out of this one day, He’s going to make some gold out of all this garbage, I’m believing for it. 

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