We grew up together and like a lot of friendships, lost track of one another for many years. It wasn't until she initiated being friends on Facebook that we were able to catch up and develop a closer relationship. I've been deeply blessed since then.
Kim lives four hours away in another state. I've been able to see her a handful of times but with her teaching schedule and family commitments along with my illnesses and limited financial resources, we've coveted our time together via social media. I don't know why we don't call each other. I think it might be because we feel safer writing what's going on in our lives rather than talking about it.
After all, some things are just too hard to say.
We've been doing this for a few years. She knows all about my background, my struggles, my successes and has even offered to help any way she can with my book. Both of us can sense when something is up by how we write. It's a gift, really. One that has been given by God, in whom we have placed our salvation.
She messaged me yesterday. I was in a bad mood. When she asked how I was I decided to be honest then tried to deflect her to how bad the Chicago Bears are playing this season. No such luck. She started asking questions. Good questions. The kind of questions that were not yes/no but required thought, feelings and explanations.
I shared how I'd been angry all day and how I wanted to cut all over my body to get rid of the anger. I reassured her that I was not going to do it, I had no sharp objects. It's just how I wanted to get rid of the anger. In my mind, self-mutilation was the only way to get rid of it.
She asked me what triggered it. I told her how working on my weight with my therapist was angering me. Keeping 27-30 pounds off but then yo-yo-ing 10 pounds was aggravating me. I told her about the chart and writing down everything.
She said, "You control you."
She typed some other stuff but I couldn't get passed that one statement. It's not like I hadn't heard it before. It was as if I'd been able to absorb it and apply it in the moment of a control problem. I controlled me.
I control if I self-injure; nothing is making me do it.
I control if I overeat; nothing is making me do it.
I control if I take my meds; nothing is making me do it.
I control if I lose weight; nothing is making me stay fat.
I control if I drink; nothing is making me lose my sobriety.
So I said to Kim: I am stronger than I think.
She said, "Yes. Much."
That means....
I am strong and I can control self-injuring.
I am strong and I can control overeating.
I am strong and I can control taking my meds.
I am strong and I can control losing weight.
I am strong and I can control not drinking.
My dad's anger was out of control. He was physically strong but he lacked self-control.
My anger is turned inward wanting to punish myself by physically hurting myself. I'm learning to recognize the signs and symptoms before self mutilation takes place.
And therein lies the question:
Do I want to be like my Dad who hurt me physically for mysterious reasons and live a life in his anger and abuse? Or do I want to proclaim victory in Jesus and learn how to live a life of righteous anger that doesn't hurt anyone, most of all, myself?
I'll take door number two.
