When Your Sleep Shouts Out

I didn't tell anyone about this until yesterday.  I've had so many prayer requests that I did not want to burden my friends with one more.  I knew they couldn't help me, so why bother?  Because they are my friends.

In my experience, abuse recovery shows itself in many ways.  This is one of them for me.  I do most of my falling asleep on the couch then at some point bounce up to get into bed.  I stick to my normal routine then I get all snuggled into my blankets and holding a pillow close to me (like a hug) and I close my eyes.  In the background I've already started playing a video that has nature sounds and a man reads scripture.  It's relaxing as I feel God's Word wash over me.  I am at peace.

Then, while I'm sleeping, it happens.  I feel myself writhing around in bed and I'm making indistinguishable noises then shouting or yelling out.  I'm on my back and my body is flat but moving around like it's trying to get away.  I have no memory in my mind.  I wake up and wonder what that was all about.  The only thing I can figure out is that I'm reliving the time my dad beat me with a belt while on he and my mom's bed and I was trying to get out of the way of his strikes.

I'm not certain about that but I think they are flashbacks and God is sparing the image of what happened.  I think this because I've had similar behaviors early on in my recovery, when I was first remembering what happened.

I've told God several times that I don't need to see what happened to me.  In fact, I prefer not to.  I don't need anymore proof that it was real and I didn't imagine it.  I believe it, my therapists believe it and my Mom believes it.

When the memories shout out, I remind myself that writing my story or putting it together is going to stir up old memories or possibly activate new ones.  That's okay with me because I know this calling is from God and He's going to help me through it.

Does it still scare me?  Not as much as it used to.
Do I get paralyzed when it happens?  No, not anymore.
Do I feel peace while it happens?  No, it's still disruptive.

I've trained myself to wake up during a dream and yell, "Stop!"
I've learned these memories may never go away.
I've accepted that this is a thorn in my flesh.
I lean on God very heavily when this happens.

My friends are limited in what they can do.  Their prayer is best because I know I'm not alone.  In fact, praying is our best weapon against the evil one.  This battle is tied into recovery and spiritual warfare.  That's why I have a therapist (although it's been over a month since I've been able to see her) and I receive prayer at church and through email.

I don't feel sorry for myself.  If anything, I get pissed off and fight for my God given right to get well and be well.

My mother said, "Amy, I admire you because no matter what happens to you, you always forge forward."  Yes and I always shall!!

For my God understands and receives my shouts and is Holy.

DARLENE ZSCHECH AND MICHAEL.W. SMITH

Shout to the Lord and Angus Dei 

Abuse memories have a way of disrupting our lives.  What we do when they happen will determine our ability to work through them and find peace on the other side.

Sticking With God In The Hard Times

The migraines started on February 3rd and since then have continued every day so my countenece has been low.  Coupled with a cold and a virus I began feeling the loneliness of chronic pain and illness.  No one can really understand what it feels like, the pain and fatigue, unless you've been there.  In my life, I have been there too often.  But then there was yesterday and the day before.

I'm very fortunate to have family and friends who are compassionate, thoughtful, funny, loving and everything in between.  God flooded my parched soul with these friends through phone conversations, text messages,emails, flowers, chili (with a lime), lunch and pictures of nature at it's finest.  God knows how discouraged I've become and how utterly worthless I've been feeling.

However, I remain hopeful.  Like Job (Jobe) in the Old Testament, even though there is calamity in me and around me, my faith does not waiver.  I may ask God, "Why?" but I really don't mean it.  I've been walking with Him long enough to know that whatever passes through His hands causes me to dig in my heels and depend on His comfort, provision and strength.  I know this because I've felt this way many times before.

Perhaps I have a simple faith.  Perhaps my faith is blinded by all the ugliness that is going on in me and around me.  Perhaps my faith is one that is too trusting, too fairytale-ish, too fool hardy.

I don't believe any of those statements.  I've had to work through a broken heart more times than I can document.  I've had to trust in God when I could not trust myself or anyone else.  I face the ugliness of my past, my current sin and my weaknesses on a daily basis and that takes courage and determination, knowing God's mercy covers me like a blanket.  I am not a fool who placed her entire being into someone she cannot see.  I am a tree in the mud that still stands strong even though strife and hurt surround me.  I am not easily shaken.  In fact, I'm a bulldozer when it comes to recovery.

Having chronic pain does mean I live a chronic pain life.  Having abuse in my history does not mean I live in the abuse.  Having alcoholism and overeating as unhealthy coping methods does not mean I am hopeless.  And having mental illness does not mean I am crazy.

All of these things remind me that with every passing day, Jesus is one day closer to coming down from Heaven to take me home.  On some days do I wish it was sooner rather than later?  You bet.  There are days when I want to take my own life because the physical or emotional pain I'm feeling is so intense.  That happened just a couple days ago.

But I choose to stay on this earth.  Yes, I choose to stay.  God never promised an easy life but He promised to always be with me.  I can rest in that truth because He reminds me quite often that it's not time for me to come home yet.  My life is not my own.  It is His.  I'm here to manage it.

Besides, He reminds me that there's still work for me to do for Him. Out of obedience to the One who loves me and to the One I love, I stay.  No matter what, I stay

Jesus Culture - Rooftops

Illness and My Temper

I don't know of anyone who feels good to be sick.  Maybe people with some sort of disorder but other than that, being sick sucks.  At least it does for me.

Four weeks of continual migraine or headache.  In the middle of that drops in a bad cold.  I finally start to feel better last week when I took a turn for the worse.  I finally called to schedule an appointment with my doctor but can't get in until the 22nd.  That's when I knew I had to go to an immediate care satellite location of my hospital.

When I started to feel better last week, I got bounced with a virus.  The doctor said they happened back to back.  He asked which symptom brought me in.  It was a combination of three, the third one scared me the most.  He said to follow-up with my doctor on Friday.

I noticed the messages I received from my friends whom I told I was going there asked if I felt better, how I was feeling and some shared concern about what's going on.  I don't know why when asked if I was feeling better or how I was feeling angered me so much.  I felt like blurting out, "Why would I be feeling better or any different from the previous day or this morning?"  But I didn't.

Sometimes I wish my head and emotions didn't launch into anger so quickly.  The nurse aggravated me to no end and she almost lost a hand.  I almost dumped a bunch of anger onto my friends who couldn't love me more and I them.  The whole issue with my health brought up a barrage of feelings that have a direct connection to the abuse.

When I was younger, I had to take care of myself and nurse myself back to health whether from abuse or sickness.

People who don't let me finish a sentence, a thought or a question they've asked, make me wonder if they really want to know anything from me or if they're making themselves feel better by asking a question.

This is an email from a friend I really miss:

Her:

Hang in there. Do you ever just want a new bod? :) I'll be praying for healing and wholeness all the way around.

Me:

You know what I really wish? That i was never abused as a kid as badly as I was so I wouldn't have migraines. And I also wish that I wasn't abused as a kid so that fear, stress, loud noises and fear of closeness to people wouldn't be part of who I am. 

That's what I really wish.

Her:

I wish that for you, too.  I was just thinking of how liberating it would be to erase all of the abuse from your childhood so you could live completely freely. I wish I could do that for you. It sucks to have to live with the consequences of someone else's actions - not even your own! I pray for grace, that God will triumph, and for healing of the things that have been etched in your mind and heart without your control.

Me:

You're a faithful friend,  No matter how much time passes between our conversations I know that when I say something you will understand perfectly. 

Thanks for keeping me in your life.

I love you a lot and count you as one of my closest friends because you know more about my past and you're always helpful just when I need it. I hope you know I'm here for you, too.

Her:

Thanks - I love you, too! I was just telling God today how it bothers me that I can't be there for you as much as I'd like to be during this phase of life. But know that I am with you in spirit, if not in words/time all the time. I'm glad God still has us understanding each other so well. What a blessing, eh? Hooray, God!

Love you bunches,

Me:

That's for sure! 

I'm sure people wonder what your real name is when it is shown in the email of who I'm sending my messages to. I giggle each time I see your name pop up.  It's like you're my secret friend that nobody knows about. Which come to think of it sounds a little strange considering I have mental illness. But I know you understand what I mean. I'm going to hit the sack, I have an early morning, so I'll be sure to keep you in my prayers and updated with personal emails instead of always putting you in a group. I gotta tell you, writing this book is kind of blowing my mind away at least what's left of it. But I know God's going to pull me through and I'm not kicking or screaming as I am going through it. 

You keep doing what you're doing in the season of life that God has you in. I'm not going anywhere and I know that you're not going anywhere either. 

Take care of yourself my friend. 

Good night.

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My therapist says anger is sometimes covering up feelings of unfair.  

*  I feel it's unfair that I've had this illness for so long.

*  I feel it's unfair that these migraines are continuing when I haven't had them for four years.

*  I feel it's unfair that I'm missing out on church and seeing my friends.

*  I feel it's unfair that my body needs so much rest.

*  I feel it's unfair that no medication can take any of this away.

I feel fear of the unknown cause of the migraines.

I feel weak for needing so much rest.

I feel self-destructive in my mouth to release some of the anxiety.

God, please hold me.

I'm a mess.

                                                     CASTING CROWNS:  JUST BE HELD

Self-Care Daily Assessment

My therapist, Faith Gallup, is big on self-care.  When we started meeting over three years ago, I thought she was a little strange because of her therapy techniques.  Turns out I had to learn a new way to approach healing.

Faith has a lot of tools in her arsenal.  She whips out papers from inside her desk the moment a possible helpful exercise pops into her head.  I've been a grateful recipient of her insight and ability to present stuff I don't want to do.  She speaks softly to my scared inner child and tells me that I don't have to do it if I don't want to.  I usually do it because I know it will be good for me and I know God prompted her.  I'd be lying if I didn't say I've not always done it or done it but not enjoying it.

However, there are occasions when my mood is not sour or pushing back so hard.  Those times make it much easier to learn and apply what she is teaching me.

Self-Care?  Yes, now I get it.  I get it because she points out every time I am using great self-care in whatever is going on in my life.  It could be as simple as taking a shower or as complex as driving to the behavioral hospital and admitting myself.  Most of the time, I don't even know I'm changing from harmful-care to self-care or from others-care to self care.

Because I'm in the beginning stages of what I call "permanent self-care", I created a daily self-care assessment worksheet.  I'm big on charting because I have a tangible way to record my activity (or inactivity).  This has taken about 2 weeks (yes, while I've been sick my brain has still been active) to brainstorm what MY self-care looks like.  Feel free to download and tailor it for your use.  I used Microsoft Office Excel 2016.

Self-Care Daily Assessment Worksheet

You can add categories:

• Feelings I Had Today
• Number of Days Clean and Sober
• Relaxation Activities (Coloring, Play-Dough, etc)
• Anxiety and/or Panic levels
• Did I laugh today?
• What Risk Did I Take?  The Result?
• Did I give or receive my 8 required hugs for the day?

A wide variety of self-care items can be recorded and talked about in your therapy session especially if you have difficulty remembering the previous week like I sometimes do.

That's where I plan to use mine!!

Here's a song that tells us where our real help comes from, who really empowers and bestows wisdom into the ears and minds of our Christian therapists and who we need to allow to help us.  

Above all others....It's Jesus.

Longing to be Loved

For the last few weeks I've been having daily migraines with the exception of four days.  Since last week I've been nursing the cold of all colds.  My body is tired from fighting physical pain and drained from the fever and all other ailments related to a cold.

I've still been saying to God, "Here I am, still ready for Your whisper and still listening for the Holy Spirit to reveal what's next."

The answers I've been seeking led me to a place I did not expect to go.  My emotions, while being sick, have wanted a Mom to take care of me.  To sit with me, to rub my back, to sing to me and to bring me soup.  I have early memories of my mom doing all those things.  I have emotions of feeling loved by her.

As I grew more independent those special moments faded.  As the alcoholism in our home grew more violent, my needs were never more considered.  I wanted to be the child who felt loved and was taken care of properly.  Not abandoned or neglected or abused or abused because I protected my sisters and Mom from him.

No, I wanted what my friends seemed to have.

When I look at how my sisters and my friends take care of their children, I wish with all my heart that I could have had that love, protection and care.  But that wasn't the case.

To be a child who received what she needed means those who were in charge of my well being had to be the adults they should have been.  And in my home, eventually, no such person existed.

I am naturally drawn to women (my close friends) who are great moms.  I admire the way they care for their children, especially when their children are struggling or in denial about the truth.  Some of them have said, "Amy, I wish I would have been your mom."  I feel instantly guilty and embarrassed.  It catches me off guard so I ask, "Why?"

"I would have protected you," is the most common response.  There have been other responses but that's the one that sticks in my head.  They are very sincere and I know it's a tender moment between us.  Tender feelings make me want to runaway.  I'm afraid, at this stage in my life, to have women console my pain.

My mom is still here.  Our relationship has healed a lot.  Since I've been on my own so much, I don't think I can let those words ("I would have protected you") from others, even though I do not doubt their sincerity, enter into my heart.  I love and treasure my Mom.  We've forgiven each other.  We have a beautiful friendship and she's my hero.  It's not perfect but we've come a long way.

Yes, I long to be loved deeply but that kind of love comes from God and I still struggle with receiving His love.

I do not open up past friendships where wounds from others have been closed and remain a scar.

I don't know if it's God's will to heal this hurt on earth and I'm more afraid of making a mistake than I am of hearing Him say, "This friend's for you, too."  I don't know what to do with that because I don't want to make a mistake.

I hold my friendship with my mom and sisters closely.  I ease into new friendships cautiously.  I have two handfuls of friends whom I hold loosely yet trust them explicitly.  I ask questions to those who want to be my friend out of curiosity.  I allow women I feel safe with to touch my face (where my Dad would strike me), to touch my head (where my Dad would shove or slam me), to give me a hug or be near to me (where my Dad would beat me) and to hold my hands and draw me close (where my Dad would stare into my eyes challenging me to fight him).

The longing to be loved will always be a chasm.  I doubt I will fully believe God loves me until Jesus takes me home and God takes my chin, tilts up my head (because I'll be looking down), looks into my eyes and says so.

In the meantime, I be the gentle soul God kept safe inside me.
I talk my walk and share my walk with friends I've grown to love and trust.
Healthy friends and a healthy me who depends on far less than they ever give.

It's really that simple.

Growing up feeling unloved can leave a chasm in your soul.  God is the only one who can fill it completely so in the meantime, breathe in the love your friends give you.  Sometimes, they help you sustain life.