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!

Monday, November 17, 2014

Healing: Open or Closed

If it weren't for the hope of becoming a better person who can one day feel a little better and maybe function a little better, I would not put myself through the trouble of healing from abuse.

It takes a lot of courage to face the truth that's been stuffed down for decades.  The courage I have doesn't come solely from me.  It comes from God within me.

It takes a lot of fishing trips.  To cast my line into the unknown waters of my memory and hook something that will inevitably cause me pain to uncover.  I have to take it off the hook, thump it on the head, clean it, fillet it and cook it when I'm ready so that it's gone forever.  I don't like hooking or killing fish.

It's very draining, healing from abuse.  I'm tired quite a lot.  I don't feel social and I don't feel like eating.  I'd love to stay on the couch all day and sometimes I do.  I don't want to talk to people, I can't concentrate to read and I just want to be left alone.

I know it's not good for me or that's what I've been told.  I think people who haven't been abused like I have don't understand the need for isolation when going through the process of healing.  I've spent so many years trying to function in the world.  Six years ago I ended up having a seizure that changed my life.

Now I'm on disability, unable to work, have a stack of mental illnesses and a physical disability and now I have to be careful what I do and how I do it.  I don't think well meaning people know what to do with all of that.  They want to help but don't know how.  I certainly don't want help because I don't know what to tell them and I prefer to be alone in my house which is where I feel the safest.

There's people who want to get together with me and I want to see them, too.  The only problem is I know my social anxiety ramps up and I end up shaking.  I hate it but that's the way it is.

I have hope of one day feeling better but I know I'm the only one who truly understands me.  I remember being in a therapy session and the therapist was having difficulty trying to help me.  I was stuck silent.  At group therapy the next day, where we process stuff, I said I didn't want to be treated like a text book.  I'm not a textbook.  I wanted to be treated like an individual, not someone on page 216.

I still feel that way but I don't have anyone treating me like a textbook.  Maybe I feel like one because a book can be open or closed and right now...

I'm closed.