About This Blog

My blog shares my recovery journey from childhood abuse to living with mental illness. I've been involved in twelve step groups and therapy since 1982. I accepted Jesus as my Savior in 1988. To the best of my ability, I have followed where He wants me to go and what He wants me to do. Maybe you'll find the hope and strength you need through what I write. Maybe you want to stop hurting yourself. Maybe you have a friend who needs help and can benefit from my story. I was newly disabled when I asked God this question: "What do you want me to do with my life?" I closed my eyes and paused for a few moments to still my mind. This is what I sensed from Him: "Amy, I want you to write your story to bring hope and healing to those who are still suffering." And that's exactly what I am doing!

Wednesday, March 23, 2016

15 Minutes

Forever, it seems to me, I've heard this preached:  "Spend 15 minutes a day reading your bible.  It's how God speaks to you through the Holy Spirit."  I agree.

I've read it cover to cover at least twice, read several individual books repeatedly, memorized a boat load of scripture by book, chapter and verse so I thought I was covered.  Not.

I may have had bible knowledge but I lacked bible application to change my life.  I'd start the 15 minute deal then drift off someplace because of life.  I'd hear the suggestion again and the cycle would start over.  Start reading.  Stop reading.  Start reading.  Stop reading.  I became so disgusted with my inability to read the bible regularly that I limited my reading for special occasions.

Feeling down, feeling curious, wanting some direction, encouraging others, using it at church, needing to feel close to God and understanding Jesus better.  Those are valid reasons for reading the bible but in my experience now, I can hear (not audibly) God speak to me.  I can feel His presence.

Last month I was challenged again.  Like I said above, this time I obeyed.  I admit I'm averaging reading every other day.  There's one thing I came to realize before I started reading.  There are 66 books in the bible.  I wanted to read what God wanted me to read.  I prayed about it and it was the book of Matthew.

The best way I've found to keep reading is to use the timer on my phone and a set of spiral index cards.  I set the timer to 15 minutes and it counts down.  Sometimes I'm so into what I'm reading that I continue.  Other times I struggle in concentration.  I use the index cards to keep track of the date and what I read.  Very helpful especially if your bookmark falls out!

I also prefer to read out loud.  Even though I may stumble in my reading, I hear the bible come alive with my voice.  I can picture what I'm reading which makes it similar to watching a movie unveil right before your eyes.

Here's a key point.  When I finished reading Matthew, I did not presume that God wanted me to read the book after that one, Mark.  I prayed again and this time He led me to Esther.  I'm just about through with that book and today He revealed my next book, Job (Jobe).  It happens to be the book right after Esther but I know (at least I think I know) why that's next.  More will be revealed.

Today I had a root canal on one of my front bottom teeth.  I was a bit nervous.  I planned ahead and finished my 15 minutes while I was waiting for my name to be called.  Then I was called in.  The dentist was running a little late so I used that time to seek out a verse of courage and/or reassurance.  I remembered Isaiah 40, the end of it, but then I read it from the beginning to the end.

WOW!  It's amazing.  Below are the verses that spoke to my fear.  The full chapter can be found by clicking on this link:  Isaiah 40, NIV

When the dentist came into the room, she said, "That is a hard book to read."  I looked at her and asked, "The Bible?"  She said, "Yes.  It's very hard to understand."  I replied, "Not at all. In fact the one I'm reading is an easy to understand one.  It's not hard at all.  It's the old testament that tells prophecies and the new testament tells the rest of the story."  She said, "The old testament is hard to understand.  The other one is easier, right?"  I agreed.  When I was laying down in the chair (before she started the dental work in my mouth), I told her that if she ever got a Bible to start with the book of John.  It tells of Jesus birth (he was a baby) and his ministry for three and a half years.  Then I told her that would end my discussion of it.  Funny thing is at the end, she said I was her best patient!!  I think I'll get her a bible for my next dental appointment!!  Dr. Yu.

Isaiah 40New International Version (NIV)

Comfort for God’s People


Comfort, comfort my people,

    says your God.
Speak tenderly to Jerusalem,
    and proclaim to her
that her hard service has been completed,
    that her sin has been paid for,
that she has received from the Lord’s hand
    double for all her sins.
And the glory of the Lord will be revealed,
    and all people will see it together.
For the mouth of the Lord has spoken.”
A voice says, “Cry out.”
    And I said, “What shall I cry?”
“All people are like grass,
    and all their faithfulness is like the flowers of the field.
The grass withers and the flowers fall,
    because the breath of the Lord blows on them.
    Surely the people are grass.
The grass withers and the flowers fall,
    but the word of our God endures forever.
21 Do you not know?
    Have you not heard?
Has it not been told you from the beginning?
    Have you not understood since the earth was founded?
22 He sits enthroned above the circle of the earth,
    and its people are like grasshoppers.
He stretches out the heavens like a canopy,
    and spreads them out like a tent to live in.
23 He brings princes to naught
    and reduces the rulers of this world to nothing.
24 No sooner are they planted,
    no sooner are they sown,
    no sooner do they take root in the ground,
than he blows on them and they wither,
    and a whirlwind sweeps them away like chaff.
25 “To whom will you compare me?
    Or who is my equal?” says the Holy One.
26 Lift up your eyes and look to the heavens:
    Who created all these?
He who brings out the starry host one by one
    and calls forth each of them by name.
Because of his great power and mighty strength,
    not one of them is missing.
28 Do you not know?
    Have you not heard?
The Lord is the everlasting God,
    the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He will not grow tired or weary,
    and his understanding no one can fathom.
29 He gives strength to the weary
    and increases the power of the weak.
30 Even youths grow tired and weary,
    and young men stumble and fall;
31 but those who hope in the Lord
    will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
    they will run and not grow weary,
    they will walk and not be faint.


Monday, March 21, 2016

When Anger Makes You Run

Last week I sent an email to a group of friends outlining all the stress I'm under including more car repairs.  I said I was not asking for financial help.  I needed help with ideas, discernment and other options.

I received wisdom from one friend.  A financial gift from a new friend.  I became upset with the financial gift because I felt what I was asking for wasn't being honored.  Coming to the realization that God was answering my prayer, not by my rules, I reluctantly accepted the financial gift.

The next day was Palm Sunday.  I did not want to go to church.  I wanted to stay home and rest and not see or talk to anyone.  I had no desire to be where God was.  I was already angry at Him for many reasons and didn't want Him anywhere near me.

I walked through the doors, put my stuff down and went out into the atrium where I was told to see a member of my small group.  As I waited, I was greeted by lovely people.  When she saw me she reached into her purse and pulled out an envelope saying, "Someone wanted me to give this to you."  I could see money through the envelope.  My anger increased.

I walked to my seat.  Worship had started but I was not there.  Not in mind or spirit.  In fact, I felt like I was having a seizure - unable to communicate and unable to move.  My new friend, a woman I'm growing to love, was in the same row.  She scooted her way down the row when I caught a glimpse of her out of my right eye.  We hugged, she bent down to (I thought) move my bible, then she hugged me again.

I turned toward worship again then I turned my head to see if my Gatorade was there.  I saw her check folded up on my bible.  It was at that moment when the straw broke the camels back.  I became instantly angry, grabbed my stuff, did not make eye contact with anyone, walked out both sets of doors to my car steaming mad.  I opened my trunk, threw my bible in there with the check, took the envelope of money out of my pocket and threw it in there then slammed my trunk and starting walking away from the church.

When I was growing up and I'd stomp out of the house, my Dad would follow me.  He'd grab hold of my arm, jerk me around then yell at me.  I was stomping out of the house because my sister just had a tooth knocked out of her mouth by my other sister who was told to do it by my Dad.  I couldn't see my little sister who was bleeding from her mouth.  He yelled at me to get out of there so I did.

When I left church, I walked along a busy road tinkering with getting hit by a car.  I wanted to be independent but I'd settle for dead.  At least then my family would be taken care of financially and I'd be out of this hell hole of a world.  Yes, death sounded like the best idea I've had in a long time.

I'm fighting to be independent and people aren't listening.  I'm screaming out to receive ideas but only two respond, one of which I'm closest to.  People have their own agenda when people like me express troubles.  I don't want them to solve the problem for me.  I want them to come alongside me to talk, listen, let me cry and get all the yuck out.  In this case, money angered me to my core and I didn't want to live anymore.

I spent time with God, who I was also furious with, at a small park.  I found a golf ball with the word "MOJO" on it.  It made me smile.  I talked to God about how sick I am of being super smart with a brain that operates part-time and is in conflict with itself.  I told him how much I hated the money he's giving to me and he reminded me not to be mad at the givers.  I told him how much I want to come home and I cried saying those words.

Home....I just want to come home.
"It's not time yet, Amy."

I walked back to the church and confessed my behavior to my new friend.  She listened as I stumbled through what happened.  I still wasn't sure talking about it was the best idea.

In the end, I retrieved my bible, the check and the envelope from the back of the car.  I brought them into my house.  I received them with an attitude of gratitude.  Then I spent the rest of the day with another friend who listens and is helping me in so many ways.

I can't say I'm glad for that experience.
I can't say I won't do it again.
Running away is a false sense of safety.
I have to learn to run to safe.

No one can hug me or talk to me or pray for me when I runaway.

My new friend made in interesting statement.
She said something like, "You want me to be  25 feet away from you when you're scared."
I thought about it for a minute.
"No, I want you 25 feet closer to me but I'm afraid of having you too close."

Anger is an emotion that needs to be harnessed.
The more risks I take with safe people, the more comfortable I feel in taking those risks.
I pray that part of me continues to heal because I long to be hugged - not hit by a car.

Friday, March 18, 2016

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.




Thursday, March 17, 2016

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





Thursday, March 10, 2016

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.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
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