I am a survivor, not a victim

The day I left, I was terrified. The night before, he had kept me up very, very late. It was a cycle that was all to common in my household: I come home after 24 or so hours of working straight, I am tired, I get the kids in and to bed (without disturbing him, or at least trying not to), and then we sit on the couch...or he follows me around. No matter what I say or do, he tells me that I don't love him, that I didn't miss him enough while I was working. I reason with him, I am calm. My integrity is questioned, my character attacked. But I know that it's not what I say or do, it's a time thing. Two hours will need to pass before I am allowed to go to bed...

...but I am tired tonight. I haven't slept hardly at all in 48 hours. I have a six month old who I nurse and pump milk for while working, and another beautiful child who just had her second birthday not long ago. I don't even think about the fact that I would love a hug and to be held and to be told I am loved and that he is so glad to see me. I have been ignoring those needs and feelings of mine for a long time, because it's easier to think you don't actually need those things if you are scorned for asking. It's easy for me to still love him, though, and I don't think twice about gently reminding him that we could go to bed, that sleep would help, that I do love him and remind him of the reasons why he should believe this.

I am not allowed to go to the bathroom. I am not allowed to go to bed. I eventually get so exhausted that I am crying. I am scared to have him in my face, to restrain me from even walking through my own house. I am trying to keep it mentally together even though my mind is being twisted to the point it convulses and I want to kill myself. So I finally have a plan...surely, I think, if I go into Amara's room, I could sleep on the floor next to her bed and he will leave me alone so that I can sleep. Surely, he wouldn't wake his daughter up.

Once I have a chance, I make it into her room quiker than his hands or body can stop me. I am quiet, and I stifle the sickness and terror I feel inside, relieved that I will soon be able to ignore it once again and continue being happy and continue loving him. But he doesn't stop. He stands in the doorway and demands that I come out with him. Amara wakes up and is crying. He is livid with me and will not let me sleep, will not let her have peace. I have no choice but to leave the room for the sake of my daughter. So like every other time, I end up giving in and separating myself mentally from him and the situation until it's over and I'm allowed to use the bathroom and allowed to go to bed.

This time, though, we both know. We know our marriage is over, and I cry silently next to him as I pray and I hear God tell me that it is time. I let him hold me, and I grieve that this will be the last time he does, and that I cannot keep going. This was never supposed to happen to me, and surely not to my children. He doesn't ever hold me, and this is how I know that he also knows.

In the morning, I know that he still knows, because he won't leave for work until I promise that I won't leave him today. I feel so guilty for lying. And half of me hopes that I'm not lying, that he will take the van, leaving me only the car which isn't working very well and which doesn't give me the space I will need to pack us up. I beseech God one more time as I lay there, giving him another chance to give me another day, another chance that maybe everything will change. I ask God to make it clear if I am to leave; it would make more sense for him to take the van since it was working, so if he took that, I would stay. If he went in the car, though, a decision that wouldn't make sense, I was to go.

After I heard a vehicle leave, Amara and I went to the door and looked out. And I cried.

It took me a few hours to pack us up. I called my dad, crying and said something about that it was time for me to leave and that we were coming. My family didn't know what was going on. My friends didn't know what was going on. But I couldn't do it anymore. There was no choice. I just couldn't do it anymore. A friend talked to me on the phone for two hours while I grabbed clothing, diapers, food, and toys and threw it all into baskets and into the van. The longer it took, the more terrified I got. My whole body shook.

I wrote a note saying that we were sorry and that we loved him. Amara drew a picture on it. And then we left. This is the beginning of me being a survivor and not a victim.

In honor of domestic violence awareness month

The Scarlet Letter of Divorce

Just for the record, I don't believe in divorce, either. And ya know what? God didn't believe in us being separated from Him, either. But sin happens. And when sin happens, relationships change. However, both God and I believe in a thing called "propitiation" which means "perfect substitute." We don't get to go back to Eden, but we sure do get to dwell with him FOREVER anyway, thanks to him creating the perfect substitute of Jesus.

So even though I might have to wear a scarlet letter of "D" for the rest of my life, and I may never stop being the victim of life's stone throwers, GOD is bigger, and he can create a propitiation for me, too. He is my protector and provider, and He. Loves. Me. Marriage is not more sacred than our relationship with God. Having a husband does not make you holier. Love. God. That is the ultimatum.

Sometimes, it is a life or death situation. Maybe you don't understand, but here's the thing: you don't need to. You don't need to understand what it feels like to be barricaded, degraded, humiliated, and be forced to do things that are despicable. You don't need to understand what it feels like to have your dignity taken away, to be denied basic human needs, to be unsafe in your own home. You don't need to understand what it feels like to not be able to even cry out to God on your own behalf anymore, to not breathe on your own, to prefer and plan your own death rather than to continue living. And you certainly don't need to understand how it's possible to continue loving, serving, and cherishing the person who does these things to you through every day and night...and how even if you are capable of loving someone through that, you cannot be with that person anymore. (and I will even tell you a secret--God weeps with and rescues his beloved from their oppressors. Try reading the Old Testament. And guess what else--he never told the Hebrews to go back to Egypt even though the Bible also says for slaves to be content in serving their masters. Just sayin'. Relationships change, and everything is not so black-and-white.).

Jesus is my savior, not my religion.

Disclaimer: the intent of this blog is not to educate people on what the Bible really says about issues, nor to defend myself. It is simply to help me process things and to reach out to others. As a result, I will probably not choose to get into any virtual arguments or defenses with anyone who leaves conflicting opinions in the comment section of this blog.

Rachel's Creed

I believe in healing and the full restoration of wounded people.

I claim that for myself and my family.

I believe in the provision of a propitiation --perfect substitute-- for desperate situations.

I trust that God will bring one about for myself and my children in His timing.

I believe the promise that God will heal the broken hearted, binding up their wounds.

I am comforted in knowing that I won't hurt forever.

I believe the promise that God will turn our mourning into dancing.

I am excited to know my life will be abundant.

I believe that past suffering can be used to bring about the survival of many people.

I will use my journey as a way to lift others up.

I believe that I do not have to be hurt in the same way again.

I will choose to be healthy and protect myself while loving extravagantly.

I believe that God is all I need, and He will lead me beside still waters.

I will not follow temptation to have anything replace what He can give me.

I believe that I am valuable.

I will live in a way that models for my children that one's value is not dependent upon what happens to her.

I believe that my future is beautiful.

I have peace and joy when I think about what is to come.

Signs of Healing

My healing heart has moved in monumental ways recently. I know this because I am able to talk to and be around John without experiencing as much anxiety as before; in fact, it's almost "normal". We were able to watch a movie after the kids went to bed and before he went home last week, as well as go out and eat dinner while discussing the kids (a future 3-year-old birthday party is coming near!)...and it was fine! I had a bit of chest heaviness-anxiety-stuff for the first half of the evening when we went out, but it resolved and we had a nice evening.

Secondly, I was able to just (briefly) look through a Facebook wedding album that some friends were in. Might not seem like a big deal, right? Wrong. I dread anything wedding or new baby related anymore. It's not because I experience jealousy or anything at the sight of these things, it's just that it reminds the ideals I grew up desiring for my future family have been taken away from me. It's a grief thing. I wanted better for my kids, for myself...The fact that I could look through wedding photos and only feel half of my heart aching is a big improvement.

Their is hope for the future. Always.

I cried.

I cried. And not just the "wipe-away-a-tear" cry, but the downright "sniffling and holding onto my best friend for dear life" sort of cry. There's only one patient I have ever cried over before in my life, and she was a beautiful baby girl who had third degree burns and whose name the babysitter didn't even know.

Going to the call, I told Lee that I wondered if this would be a difficult call for me or not. It was the first domestic violence call that has happened to fall on my shift. I don't dwell on these things though, and I dismissed the thought as soon as I said it so I could focus on what I may or may not need to do, wondering what the injuries would be if any at all.

She stepped up into my ambulance, a girl around my age. Her blond hair matted with blood and dirt, her legs streaked with red that dripped onto her sneakers that in an unexpected way actually matched the cocktail dress she was wearing. Her friend was right behind her, demanding to know what her boyfriend did.

It was her arm and wrist that were sliced from the glass door. As I opened a bottle of sterile water, I rhetorically asked the cop if they were detaining the guy. I wasn't impressed with his answer and I informed him in no questionable terms that he had better hold on to that guy or I might just leave my ambulance to do so. Punk.

I was doing ok, but I could tell I had better shut the inner Rachel off quickly because my hands started to shake as I poured the water onto a towel. Soon enough, it was just her and I. We chatted and I wasted no time explaining to her that I left my marriage because of domestic abuse. She grabbed my hand and interrupted herself to tell me that she was really, really glad that I was the one with her because she needed to hear what I was telling her. She talked while I tied linen around her body in an attempt to keep her arm together. I told her to not move her arm, and to keep her wrist bent because any movement was causing her skin and fat to pull away from her body like nothing I have seen before. She thanked us over and over as she removed her ring.

I knew time was ticking before I started to feel again, so I quickly gave the nurse a report and got the signatures I needed after getting to the hospital. Lee caught me outside the patient's room and asked the dreaded question, if I was ok or not. I looked at him and I think he said "no" before I could say anything and then it just came crashing down. Somehow, I got outside...maybe without anyone noticing, or maybe with everyone noticing. I didn't really care. Somehow, the computer was moved out of my hands and to another location, and I buried my face into my arms. He held me while I couldn't say anything, then I curled myself into the passenger seat of the ambulance. I really just wanted to curl up in the ditch and die under the moonlight, moving on into Jesus' arms, never to experience pain again.

After I finished my paperwork, he came back and got the computer to finish getting what I needed so I wouldn't have to go inside. By that time, I was doing better though. In an attempt to console me, he told me that the boyfriend was indeed being detained and things were going to be worked out, and I got myself strong enough to move forward.

I said goodbye and good luck to her, watching as the doctor put stitch after stitch into her flesh. Then, I got back into my ambulance and we drove away...

I cried again as I wrote this. You see, I never bled and I have no physical scars, but I know the sound of things being broken. I understand what it's like to move yourself or your beloved little one out of the way quickly, before you are broken too. I still feel sick when I hear certain words or when some people get too close to me. I was not crying for her. She will get out of that relationship and she will be ok. I am ok, too, but sometimes it still hurts, and sometimes I get tired of being strong. Sometimes, I just want to beat the daylights out of him for everything I went through...but even that isn't what makes me cry.

Yes, I grieve what happened for so long. I grieve the fact that I believe in marriage and it was taken away from me. I grieve the thought that my children will not grow up in a home with both parents living in it. But this isn't what makes me weep. Lee told me at one point while I sat in the ambulance outside the hospital that this would never happen to me again, that no one would ever treat me like that again. I doubt he realized it, but that is exactly why I cry. I cry because I want to be worth someone's forever promise. I want to be safe and not have my guard up. I want to never, ever be hurt like that again. And I am afraid that the people who I know won't hurt me will walk out of my life and I will be left fighting for survival again. Completely illogical, I know, but my heart is still tender and I am only accepting a bright future from here on out in life. My standards are very high and I will not, will not be hurt again like that.

When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and the rivers, they will not overflow you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be scorched; the flames will not even burn you. 

-Isaiah 43:2

Guide To Leaving Domestic Violence

Someone should write a guide specifically on coming out of domestic violence. The thing, though, is that I'm convinced that a woman who leaves a situation like that must:

1) come to her own conclusion to do so, and

2) decide to be healed of whatever is within herself that attracted her to a relationship like that to begin with.

Most women don't do that. Most people have broken parts inside that will never get fixed because they either don't realize that something is broken, don't know how to fix it, or are so comfortable being broken that they don't want to change. As you read this, maybe you will reflect on your own brokenness; maybe you are at a place in your life, too, where you are ready to get healed. It's a blessed journey to travel, my friend, and so worth it in the end.

For the women who are ready to step away from that relationship (for most of us, it's simply because we can't do it any more. It isn't really a "choice"), though, a guide would be helpful. It would include things like this:

1) A list of free or affordable babysitters who are reliable, good influences, responsible, and trained in CPR.

2) Instructions on how to: install a deadbolt, mow your lawn while your toddlers are awake, motivate yourself to do something after the kids are in bed (other than sit on the couch and listen to the silence), change the oil in your car (because who has done that in the last seven years?!), even know how many cylinders your car is so if you have someone else change the oil you can correctly answer this question, and how to remove a huge wasp nest from your back garage.

3) A pass that you can cut out which says "I am allowed to have a bad day and be grumpy." Because...really, this isn't allowed, but it sure would be nice. :)

4) Workout instructions. When you're starting a new chapter in your life, it feels really darn good to be in charge of your body and accomplish something that's so good for your health!

5) Organization and cleaning tips and tricks to make things happen Mary Poppins' style. Who wants to take all of her free time up by cleaning a house?

And then the more serious things, like what to do when you're lonely and 9pm hits. Night time is the roughest. How to maintain your integrity and not make mistakes out of your loneliness. How to know when you're ready for a relationship, and how to not sabotage the next one you have because you are overly sensitive to certain things. How to retrain your brain to have correct thinking about what is normal and healthy in a relationship. How to rebuild your identity, because if you have truly been in an unhealthy relationship, you probably lost hold of who you were along the way. How to not care what other people think about you (as long as you know you're doing what you should be doing, of course). And...

How to have healthy boundaries with the person you were in that relationship with. How to still show that person respect so your kids can see you model how they should act. How to stop reacting to that person out of fear. How to help that person, have his back, and support him while not giving him the wrong impression.

It's interesting, this journey. A lot of unanswered questions and dilemmas, but it's ok, and the journey is good. Behind every rainbow, there is a little rain...and I sure do like rainbows and the promise of God's love that they hold.

The Hole Called "Lonely"

I'm so darn lonely tonight. Ya know, you fill your time with healthy things to try and ignore the pains of being alone, but...it doesn't really work. :) You can't talk about it because then people judge you and you may hear a lecture on how you shouldn't be looking for a relationship yet. But really, is that the only conclusion one can find when they think about loneliness?

I was designed to be loved by a man. It is part of my DNA to be a relational person. God did create me that way, you know. This is the first time in my life that I have lived with no other person near to my maturity level. And...it's lonely. Sure, I could calls someone, but I don't because then I feel like I am just using that person or I know that it really isn't going to fill the "empty" box that sits in my heart. So I don't call. In fact, sometimes I even move away from anything that involves contacting another human being because I just don't know how to deal with it. I don't know what to say. Maybe I don't really want to say anything. I don't know what I want to hear. Maybe I don't really want to hear anything. Maybe I just want to be held and have someone there...but how do you ask for and explain that?

You can't be mad at me for this. It's like looking in a mirror but seeing no reflection. You are there, but something that is supposed to react to you is not. It's strange. And a little empty. And so lonely. People who haven't been here suggest all sorts of things: prayer, reading the Bible more, hanging out with girlfriends. But...those things don't work because those things fill the holes shaped for those things, not for the hole called "lonely."

Everything inside of my relationship box is still raw. I can't even pray about a future relationship yet because I am so convinced no one will ever find me worth it, or I would have to just settle for someone which I tell myself I cannot do. Then I think to myself, how selfish is that? If I do have a future husband out there, can he really wait another day to be covered in prayer? Doesn't he need it now? So for the moment, I pray for myself and I quickly hurry through a sentence that shoves the whole relationship box into God's court for him to work on without me having to look at it or think about it. It hurts too much if I have to look at that box. Whatever man (if) gets into that box is going to have to be my best friend in all the world, because he is going to end up carrying me through that journey and will have to be so patient as I become willing to even look at it. But maybe that's part of God's plan, because if someone would do that for me, I would know that he thought I am worth it.

I have hope, though, even though I am not sure I should dare to. There is one area left that I need healing in; a retraining of the mind, an understanding of what is healthy. That, I can pray about. And I did. And God laid it on the heart of a friend to send me the link to a sermon series on exactly that topic. I gather two things from that: 1) God cares and notices about even the smallest things I need and ask for--and he responded IMMEDIATELY! 2) If God thinks this particular subject is important enough to fix within me, then I think the potential for a future relationship is very likely. Who knows what his timing is, but I am ok with whatever He has planned for me because I know my Abba Father, and I know that His ideas surpass anything I could think of or desire within my heart.

So God, could you just put a lid on the Lonely Hole within me for now? I realize it's just part of being human, but I could certainly do without it right now. Close it off, why don't ya, and only allow it to be opened when it's ready to be filled. :)

I am not who I was

For as long as I've been taking personality profiles, I have been told that I am so concerned with the welfare of others that I will sacrifice and lose myself in the process of serving someone else. There is a term for the extent to which this became a problem in my life: subjugation. I would always take it upon myself to do or approve of what the significant people in my life wanted me to do because I was either afraid of their response if I didn't, or I would feel guilty if I didn't. Clearly, this leads to people taking advantage of you and to you partaking in destructive things. It's as though you love someone so much that you give them permission to destroy you and the relationship.

Times have changed though, and I am very proud right now because for the first time ever, I took a personality profile (without even realizing it), and got this as the result:

You are important. So are other people, especially if they are in trouble. You have a tender heart, but you know how to establish and keep personal boundaries. You are empathetic and compassionate, but you also believe that it's best if people solve their own problems and learn to take care of themselves, if they are able

You are deeply moved by the needs of others, but you know that if you don't take good care of yourself, you'll wind up being of no use to anyone. So yours is a thoughtful compassion. You strive to be fair and sensible, taking care of others while also taking care of yourself.

When someone really is in trouble, you like to collaborate with them toward a solution; they do their part, you do yours. You consider carefully, and respond in a sensible way; they do their part, and together you move through the difficulty.

You seldom act impulsively; rather, when a problem arises, you take your time to think through the situation. This contemplative quality usually means that you'll arrive at a diplomatic solution, one that's fair for the other person and also fair to you. It's frequently a win/win situation.

My heart and mind started changing last Fall, and I have completed the healing process for my subjugation. It's truly only by God's love for me that I was able to understand and come through this (along with lots of literature and work on my part). For the first time EVER, I have a balence. I am now able to love and serve people, but with healthy boundaries in place. This is a huge deal, because this was my largest personal problem. I suspected that I was free of subjugation the last two months or so, but being affirmed now that I have come through this puts a smile on my face, and gives me comfort to face the night.

Tonight, I am lonely, but I am free from the bondage of subjugation and that, my friends, is a beautiful thing.

You Are Strong

Dear Single Mom,

You are strong. Don't let them get you down. You can let them know if you want to, but this is your story and your heart...and you can choose to let others in as much or as little as you want. You do not need to bare yourself so they can see the scars. You do not need to tell the war stories. You do not need to give in to their gossip by telling everyone everything so you can have the satisfaction of seeing the pain in their eyes when they know what you have been through and feel guilty for condemning you.

You will be ok. Don't believe everything they say. You will heal. You will be loved. You will wake up tomorrow and begin a new day...and if that day doesn't go so well, the sun will set, you will go to sleep, and you will wake up again. It's alright if you want to sit and cry for hours, but don't feel that you need to just because someone thinks that's what women do when their marriages fall apart. Don't feel like you need to let all of the things that are waging war against your heart and mind right now take over and incapacitate you for the next three months. You do not need to give in to the emptiness, loneliness, and confusion. You see, it's ok to be happy right now, too, and to accept the peace and restoration that God brings to people in times like these.

You are going to make it, and not just that, but you are going to rise above your past and your current situation. You were created for beautiful and powerful things. You have a Father who is holding you, and who was here before you. He knows your name. He knows the mixed pain and joy in the deepest parts of your soul. And he knows that you are an amazing woman with great strength...because he gave that to you for this exact moment.

Keep being strong. You know, and it's ok if others don't.

xoxoxo

Moving Forward

He is getting an apartment. We will move him in next weekend, probably. It's small. Not any room for the kids, but it's affordable and he can stay at the house when he has the kids. Things will be separate: our money, our living spaces, our days. The cell phone and insurance bills will stay the same, but I will now be taking on the responsibilty of providing enough for my family to keep my house and everything working in it. It won't be easy. In fact, I haven't quite figured out yet how I will make everything work, but that doesn't scare me. I can taste the freedom from the emotional bondage that comes with being married to and living with someone who has hurt you so deeply that some days, even your scars bleed. I love him, of course, but part of my heart died a long time ago and we are killing ourselves trying to revive it. It is time to let go. We both know this is what God has ordained for this time. What the future holds, we have no idea, but we know that HE has already been there...and there is great comfort knowing that.

You know you are doing the right thing when your relief outweighs your fear.

Now, I will focus on relearning to breathe. It will be difficult, but it already is.

1) Support my family. This will require extreme control in spending, using my blog to get things my kids need, and finding new ways to make more money as well as to save money.

2) Reconnect with God on the level I had before I was married. It will be sooooo good and I am looking forward to all of the peace that will bring!

3) Get in shape. I have 364 days left before our not-dating pact is up, so I should probably start getting rid of this mom body. ;-) Kidding. Well, sort of. I kind of loathe my body (awful, I know, but true). It was going to change regardless of my relational status. I am just listing it here because this is my running tally of things to do and focus on, not because I actually have any intentions of trusting anyone enough to date again.

It Feels Like Death

Death can be a calculated thing. So calculated, in fact, that it can end with life.

Having a plan for death prolongs it from happening. You see, if you go over that edge and want to jump out of the moving car, you might be stopped if you already have your death plan in place. Instead of ending your life with a face that was rubbed around the cement and a body that had to be hosed away by the fire truck, you could instead be assured a peaceful (or violent) death with body intact. If you have a plan.

The more important thing, though, is that when you know you've been balancing on the edge that valley for a long time and that you could be pushed over with the touch of a finger, a plan can in fact save your life instead of end it. It's almost like insurance. May sound crazy to some people, but perfectly sane to the sufferer. If you want to die anyway, you may as well wait to run your plan instead of act on a whim. See?

A plan buys time, and time buys change. That's why a death plan is good when you're on the edge; you then have the option to die the way you want to, which will take time to put into place and follow through with when you have been pushed over that edge. Instead of jumping out of the moving car, you will wait to get home and get everything ready. By the time that happens, life, your emotions, and surrounding events can change. It buys you time, and in some cases, time equals life.

No one wants to die, until you want to die. Calculated death...may just be the solution to ending your day alive.

Blackbird

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to be free

Blackbird fly, blackbird fly
Into the light of the dark black night

Blackbird fly, blackbird fly
Into the light of the dark black night

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise
You were only waiting for this moment to arise
You were only waiting for this moment to arise

stronger woman (Jewel)

Well tonight, I'm going to be
The kind of woman I'd want my daughter to be, oh

I'm gonna love myself more than anyone else
Believe in me, even if someone can't see
There's a stronger woman in me
I'm gonna be my own best friend
Stick with me till the end
I won't lose myself again, never, no
'Cause there's a stronger woman,
A stronger woman in me

How long is enough?

How long is long enough? At what point does the line between trying out of integrity and trying because you're foolish get crossed? Actions can change, but the feelings, thought patterns, and habits that cause those actions are much harder to control. I realize that part of me is where I am out of fear, but as I let go of some of those fears, I am wondering if it is omre unfair of me to stay in this relationship than it is to be done with it. I feel as though I am leading him on by answering his questions "correctly" and responding with the appropriate "I love you's," and "we'll be fine" statements during conversation, for they are pledged to avoid the inevitable questioning of my thoughts and intentions that follows any pause in my speech. If I didn't notice that he wasn't looking at me, then I am accused of not caring that I am with him. Should he text me before I think of it during my lunch break, I am told that I don't want to talk to him and have caused him hurt, confusion, and sadness. All of this because I didn't act how he needed me to soon enough.

I am weary. My heart literally hurts from the stress caused by this situation. The pressure from having to act in particular ways becomes a physical wave that encapsulates your body and soul. Once the cycle begins, it's hard to mentally stay with the conversation, making it worse as I appear uninterested. Having to be oh so careful with tonal inflictions and facial expressions so that your two-year-old doesn't yell at mommy and daddy to stop talking. Trying to gently say "I need to stop talking" or "we really need sleep" with the intentions of genuinely caring and wanting to defuse a situation before it gets out of control is met with pleas, promises, and reasons to continue talking.

It's better, yes, but is it enough? H ave I crossed the line into foolishness when I should have changed directions long ago? What would be best for him is to be able to stand on his own and not depend on me for his happiness and self worth. What would be best for me, though? And what is best for my children? The answer to these questions evades me. If this is because I genuinely don't know the answer, or because I won't allow myself to admit it, I don't know.

Posted at least 1 week after being composed

Becoming Introspective

I am finding myself becoming more and more introverted with my thoughts and feelings. John would read this and immediately tell me that I can tell him everything, etc., etc....and sure, I could. But some feelings I just don't want to. Some thoughts, I just don't want to. And really, I have no one to unload all of that on. It's a burden to carry alone, but there's so much trust involved in unloading all of your thoughts and feelings onto someone and I just don't have that any more.

To be willing to bare your soul to someone, first he can't be involved in whatever you're unloading. Or if he is, there has to be a way to be neutral-ish. Some sort of separation. Secondly, he has to truly care. It's far too scary to be that vulnerable to a person who may not care about your situation or to not even care if you tell him at all about it. Thirdly, he has to want to protect you. This makes you feel safe when you tell him, even if he doesn't have the ability to protect you (and most likely you will tell him that under penalty of death he is not to do anything in an attempt to "fix" anything you're going through, except to bring you good root beer and chocolate and to keep passing you tissues). Forth, he must have the ability to respond. Pillows and dogs don't count.

There is a unique sort of solace found in introspection, though. Dramatic effects are sure to be left out. There is no risk of a trust breach. There are no opinions but your own...which sometimes works against you since there is no one to correct your wrong thoughts.

Either way, I am becoming more this way...and am thinking from others' reactions that I should expedite the becoming so that I am there entirely.

it is worth it

It's painful. It's drawn out. It's lonely. Oh is it lonely. It's confusing. It's frustrating. It's angering.

But because I am me, once I am bound, I can't be released by my own will. Part of me is yours forever. We could not talk for ten years and it would be the same way--a piece of me, carefully packaged and branded with your name, just sitting and waiting for you in the depths of my being.

So here I will be. Different, yes. Numb, scared, unsure...but always caring. Always putting myself out there for you even when I know I will just be met with pain. Don't think this means you can use me, though. As time goes on, my protective wall will regenerate itself and it won't be the same for you. You will look into my eyes and see the sadness and you will know that it's now my reaction to you...you won't see any regret though, because I don't have any. And you will still see me smile, because...you still make me happy. It's weird like that.

All of this is worth the pain, because the bond is still beautiful. Mistreated, maybe. Forgotten about, probably, at least for now. But I'm ok right this second.

And I think it, you, is worth it.

dancing with the rain

She stood outside, surrounded by rain with her face turned upward, staring into the overwhelming ominous sky. Shades of grey, moving and churning above her, but at the same time around her and within her as well. The rain was like a blanket, hovering over her and wrapping itself around her and through her as she stood there. Her red dress clung to her, sticking to her thighs and resting at her knees. Her bare legs cool as the water beat against them and ran down into the black high heels that tied around her ankles. Paralyzing, the dance of the storm created a new world for her. One that was safe and personal and beautiful.

The ground underneath her began to turn to mud, pooling water that begged to reach up her shoes as her heart began to beat in rhythm to the thunder. She became part of the storm as it swept over and through her, deafening her to anything but the wind and the melodic dropping of water. Each raindrop becoming a prism of grey hughs, reflecting her spirit as they landed on her body and that of the earth around her. Breathing deeply, she could taste the moisture in the air, and could feel the wetness on her lips and tounge. And as she felt the dance of the rain, as the rhythm captivated her spirit and body, she decided to give in.

So she reached down. Her dark hair, hanging in locks, dripped forward over her shoulder. And time stood still for that moment, as she undid the tie around her ankles and removed her shoes. Stepping into the cold, soft earth, she breathed again, and her breaths took on the wind to match her heart's rhythm of the rain.

Wild, untamed, and overflowing with life. She danced with the rain.

Wounds instead of scars

My mind plays games with me sometimes, and I almost become overwhelmed by my feelings of emptiness and pain. I'm having one of these moments right now, and so I am coming back to these two things:

1) At the end of Exodus and Joseph's story, it's questioned as to why Joseph was allowed to go through so many difficult things. The conclusion is that he could be content and joyful about his past because through it, many people survived. Because of my pain, too, many people will be able to survive.

2) When I lose everything, I accomplish things. This has always been true of my life. Just in this last week, for instance, I lost 4 pounds, am booking speaking engagements, and making active steps toward operating my own business including having more music students lined up at a music store.

But somehow, it's not helping today and I am sitting here sobbing. Somehow, this doesn't help the ache in my heart that screams out for someone to hold me. Seriously, God, I need something to change. I want to love and be loved. Why isn't the heart something that can just be ripped out once and then it can't be ripped out again? Instead, it's something that can continue to feel pain exactly as it did the first time it was ripped out of a chest, even if it's the hundreth time it's actually happened. Wounds are different than scars. Wounds can still hurt and bleed.

Empty.

Before you decide to get into a relationship, seriously contemplate the success of that relationship...because if it falls apart, you may feel some things that are uncomfortable and would be nicer left unfelt. Like emptiness.  We still have a relationship, but it's different. A lot different. And I am lonely. And empty. He is too.

It's all about counting the cost and deciding if it's worth it to you---knowing that you may feel pain during the process of your relationship with someone. Is it worth that pain? Is it worth feeling so empty that you can't even identify the names of what you feel? You long to stuff things in that blank space so that you feel complete again. All that you can find that fits the jagged edges of that void is the title "relationship." However, no matter how hard you try to put a human relationship in there, all that happens is that the more you push, the more you both get cut and scraped as you try to fill the gaps. It's a brutal cycle, but the sooner you recognize that you can't fill the void of a broken relationship, the sooner you can begin to heal those jagged edges.

There's another who counted the cost of me before, and he thought I was worth it. Knowing that it's possible I would never want him to begin with. Knowing that if I did, I would fall. That there would be moments when I would wander to something or someone else, and it would hurt him. Despite the agony and desperation felt though, he still chose me. And he is the only one that can fill my void now, taking his hand and smoothing down those jagged edges even if he bleeds in the process.

Keep choosing me, El Rachum, my Heavenly Father.

The Details

The details. Most people don't work these out--they have a mediator intervene the war-like tactics involved in "determining the details" of a separation. I have a sneaking suspicion it comes to this because people didn't marry their best friend at the time of the wedding...

We "worked out the details" yesterday. It is, in fact, the most ridiculous arrangement I have ever heard from anyone. It works, though, and we are both completely relieved that we can just be friends, focus on our goals and dreams, and not have the stress involved in "trying" to have a relationship and feelings that just are not working right now. The first time we fell in love, we weren't trying. We've realized it's not a very good idea to try to force these things unless you don't mind dying young as a result of the stress. If we fall in love a second time, it will not be because we are trying.

So as it stands now, we will continue to live together. A room with a cot will probably be created downstairs for one of us to sleep if needed. A divorce will only happen if God brings someone else into one of our lives (which I'm guessing the chances of happening are very slim since this person would be entering an intact family, have to be approved by all of us, and would have to understand and accept the dynamics of John's and my relationship). If we move from here, we'll either build or try to get a duplex home with a door between the living spaces so things are not weird or stressful for the kids--we will always still be a family. All of us. Oh, and one more small detail: John thinks we shouldn't mention us being separated to people. I guess we'll see how well that one works out, because someone is bound to pick up on it at some point.

Just from what we've gone through already, I realize this whole arrangement could change tomorrow...but since we're not following rules of what Christian married people are "supposed" to do anymore, I am thinking this agreement is going to hold. We are very clearly in God's will now, and it's a big relief to not be fighting what he has laid on both of our hearts.

So now, I'm am relearning how to breathe. Again. This time though, not going back prematurely.