Friday, January 21, 2011

Exhaustion!

This has been an amazingly draining week.  Christina had a high fever Saturday evening, which eventually went away (for good) late Wednesday/early Thursday.  She still has a stuffy/runny nose and a cough.  She enjoyed her sickness so much she shared it with her teething sister and her busy parents.  :(  I used to think that taking care of a sick child was hard.  But it's nothing compared to taking care of a sick child, a sick/teething child, a sick husband, and a sick self while at the same time trying to cope with rheumatoid arthritis.  It's been frustrating; I feel like I'm being put to the test.  Just how much can Chrystal endure before she snaps?  But in a way, it feels good, too.  Paul & I are very much looking forward to the possibilities of 2011, and are striving to be open to God's direction.  I have been praying for God to open my eyes and give me peace about a few different possibilities.  Sort of asking him if I measure up; to show me if I really do have what it takes.  This week has certainly done a fair amount of measuring!  Paul helped me a couple nights, but for the most part I feel like I did it on my own, and I did a pretty good job.  I kept on top of the laundry, did a few grocery trips, took care of a few errands for Paul, fixed healthy food for myself and my family ...

It feels like God is showing me "You can do this.  It will be tough at times, and there will be stress, but through my strength in you, we'll tackle this together."

I'm feeling very peaceful right now.  Despite the boogery noses, dry coughs, and slobbery chins. :)

Friday, January 14, 2011

Trust

I freely admit I have trust issues.  I have for a really long time; pretty much as far back as I remember.  Anytime someone would show me any form of kindness, I would wonder what their motive was.  I think it's really held me back from making a lot of close friends in high school/college, but it has also strengthened the few friendships I did pursue.  Quality vs. quantity, I guess.  I find that I have a difficult time opening up to new people, sharing my ideas about life, religion, family, etc., but I'm getting a little bit better at it, year by year.

Lately I've been pondering the issue of gaining/losing/regaining trust.  At what point is it worthwhile to try allowing someone who has hurt you back into your life?  How do you judge whether or not the risk of being hurt/betrayed again is worth the possible benefit of being close to that person again?  I have an especially difficult time with this since I am very aware that whoever is in MY life is also in my KIDS' lives.  As a mama, I think it's my responsibility to protect my kids as much as I can.  I know they'll get boo-boos and one of these days, I swear, fearless Christina will break a bone or knock out a tooth or something, and eventually, some bratty boy will break my girls' hearts - but they're quite the lookers, so I'm sure they'll break a few hearts of their own! 

But I ramble.  I know I can't protect them from absolutely everything, but I think it is still my responsibility to protect them as much as I can.  Whether it was intentional or not, I feel betrayed by my family's response to me not associating with the person who abused me as a child.  I just can't get beyond how much it hurt to see my mom be okay being around that person after I told her (when I was 16) what he did to me.  And then about 8 years later, after she found out that I wasn't his only victim, she had a huge issue with him  for about 2 months, and then seemed to just magically have gotten over it.  It's confusing.  My counselor said I should try to talk with her about this.  "Talking" seemed too difficult, so we "facebook-ed" about it.  I'm not sure that she was really ready to have that type of a discussion; I don't know if she ever would be.  It's a crappy situation for everyone involved, really.  And I try to be understanding of that, but at the same time, I think it's very important that I stand up for myself, my husband, and my kids.  My pastor has told me that I'm still trying to do God's job; that I'm still striving to fix my family and find answers to these questions that maybe I'm not really ready to have answered yet (does that sentence make sense?  I'm writing this after about 4 hours of sleep - my mind is a bit muddled).

I know I can't wave a magic wand and fix this issue; I don't want to put a coat of glossy paint over everything and just pretend that it's all better - that took me nowhere but to Depression Town for a long time, and I don't really want to live or vacation there anymore.  It's a pretty dreary place - dark skies and rainclouds all the time.  Blah.  But at the same time I do miss my family - especially around the holidays; that was a really hard week.  I think I'd rather have the hard weeks and feel like I'm standing up for myself and my kids than to have the family-time and feel like I'm rolling over on my principles, or putting my - quite valid, I might add - feelings to the wayside and letting myself slip back to the "I don't like this Chrystal, she has no spine" attitude I had for several years.

A close friend told me yesterday that she has seen me grow over the last few years and I'm a stronger, happier person now.  My relationship with Paul is so much healthier than it used to be.  We had some really tough first years - YEARS, forget the whole "the first year is the toughest" advice I received from so many people - but we've been working on our relationship and working on ourselves, and I can honestly say we're both in a really good place right now, spiritually/emotionally.

Bah.  I still have many unanswered/unresolved questions/issues, and I'm learning to wait on the Lord to help me make sense of all this.  "Strength will rise as we wait upon the Lord, we will wait upon the Lord, we will wait upon the Lord" runs through my head A LOT.

Gar.  This started out about trust and kinda meandered all around the countryside.  It's relieving to express all of this, though.  Hopefully today will be a bit of a better day.

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Forgiving vs. Forgetting

One thing I have struggled with the most regarding my experience with sexual abuse is the issue of forgiveness.  My grandparents took me to church almost every Sunday of my childhood & teenage years, and I very clearly remember Sunday School teachers talking about forgiveness and how we, as Christians, ought to forgive people who hurt us.  I particularly remember Matthew 18:21-23 when Peter asks Jesus how many times he ought to forgive his brother -- 7?  And Jesus replies not 7, but 70 times 7, which would be 490 times.  (Some translations just say not 7 but 77 times.)  My Sunday School teacher told us that Jesus didn't mean we were to literally count the number of times someone hurts us at stop forgiving them after offense #490 - that would be ridiculously difficult to keep track of.  Instead, she told as that Jesus was saying we ought to forgive any time that someone asked for our forgiveness.  She then also referenced the Lord's Prayer: forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.  She implied that it would be hypocritical of us to expect God to forgive us everytime we confessed a sin and asked for forgiveness, if we did not also forgive people everytime they asked.

So, what do we do if someone has hurt us but hasn't asked for forgiveness?  As a Christian, should we forgive them, anyway?  Is that the spirit of the above-referenced passages?  But then on the other hand, does God forgive us before we come to him requesting that forgiveness?  What exactly does forgiveness entail?  After forgiving someone, do we forget the crime?  Psalm 103 - a passage that was instrumental in my salvation - says that God has removed our sins from us as far as the east is from the west.  I've been taught and always understood this passage to mean that after God forgives us our sins, does not see our sins when he looks at us, almost as if they never happened.  If I am to be God-like, then am I supposed to forget the harm done to me?  How would that even be possible?

A little over a year ago, I took some of these questions to my pastor.  I remmeber sobbing over the phone as I talked with him, because I felt like a bad Christian.  I felt like I had forgiven - or at least tried to forgive my abuser, but I could not forget what had happened.  My pastor didn't have all of the answers for me, but he did pray with me, and I came away from the conversation feeling a little bit better about myself.  The best advice I took away from this part of our conversation was that I could work toward forgiving the offense - I don't have to waste any more time on hate and misery.  However, I don't have to expose myself to continued pain ... i.e., I don't have any obligations to spend time around the abuser, or allow my kids to be around the abuser.  While this may cause hard feelings in certain social circles, healing those feelings is best left to God.  The best advice my pastor gave me during that conversations is to let God do His job, and stop trying to do it for him.

Do you have any thoughts on forgiving/forgetting?  I'd love to read them. :)

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

An introduction; nothing too original

I've decided to thrust myself slightly deeper into this world of technology.  I figure, when my computer-illiterate mother-in-law (love you, Mama King) can figure out how to send an email from her smart phone before I can, it's time for me to stumble out of my comfy, low-tech zone.  Plus, hopefully this will serve as a good forum for me to work out the random thoughts that ricochet in my head between diaper changes, boo-boo kisses, laundry, cooking, cleaning, and figuring out how to score the latest free/cheap diaper deals.  (No, I haven't actually found free diapers yet, but I'm hoping someday I will.)

So, writing a blog.  From the mind of Chrystal.  I used to write poems in my teenage angst and I'd share them with my friends.  I often said they were a glimpse at the "mind of Chrystal."  I don't write poems much anymore - really not since taking a creative writing course at Northwest Nazarene in the spring of 2009 - but I do still have the urge/need to write.  It's so much easier than talking.  And while there's something nervously sickening about sharing what I write with other people, there's also something encouraging, affirming, and empowering in it, too.  Maybe I'll even be fortunate enough to help someone else.

A while back, a friend of my husband's posted a note on Facebook about being molested by a close family friend.  At first I was amazed that he shared what happened to him on a public forum.  He knew other people were going to read this, right?  Especially since I assume he's not intimately acquainted with everyone on his friends list.  I mean, he's my friend on Facebook, and I think all I knew about him prior to this note was that he went to high school with my husband.  Not only did he share about being molested and working with a counselor to help heal, he shared his emotions, honestly.  I specifically remember him admitting that he was surprised to find himself angry with his abuser, after so many years had passed.

After reading that note, I began thinking more and more honestly about my own experiences being sexually abused as a child.  I was surprised at how hurt I still was; I was 25 when I began re-examining this issue and the abuse had stopped about the time I was 9.  My wound was still very raw.  Not just sore like a fading bruise.  More like gaping wide-open, oozing infectious, putrid-smelling pus.  I was very angry at my abuser, and angry at people who knew about the abuse after-the-fact and did little to offer comfort or counsel.  (I know it's one of those "oh, crap! I have no idea what to do" situations, but still... you do/say SOMEthing, right?)  I began to talk to other people about this, more than I had ever done before.  I talked with my pastor.  I talked with my husband.  A LOT, Lord bless him.  I talked with my in-laws.  I tried talking with my family.  I think it was the first time in my life that I let myself fully feel all of the honest muddled-up emotions of this incredibly FUBAR situation.  I was angry, embarrassed, afraid, timid, indignant, and generally pissed off because I thought I had dealt with this as a teenager.  I didn't realize that writing my poetic teenage angst was about as effective as burying baby diapers under pig shit.  No matter how much you pile on top, it still stinks.  After a while, though, I worked through a lot of those emotions.  I even did some counseling with my God-sent OB/GYN, and I stopped seeing myself as an accomplice or a martyr (i.e., "Lord, please let me be the only one he's done this to... don't let him have hurt others, as well. Thank you for giving me this cross to bear, and may I bear it as well as You did Yours.  Amen."  I had a really messed-up view of God's role in all of this, as well.)  Instead, I see myself as a survivor.  That may not be very original or poetic, but it's the first thing I've been able to see myself as that's solely dependent on me; it's not relational, i.e. not seeing myself as a mother/wife/daughter/friend.  Even if all my loved ones are blown away in some crazy nuclear attack and I somehow manage to mutate through it, I'll still have a self-identification as a survivor.  I think if I was still seeing my OB/GYN/Counselor, he'd be pretty happy that I have a non-relational identification that I feel is important enough to say, "Hi, my name is Chrystal and I'm a survivor" instead of "I'm a couponer," "I'm a baker," "I'm a crochet-er" (all things I do as opposed to things I am.  Well, in my mind, anyway).

But I digress.  I've been trying to heal for a year and a half now, and I'm not there yet.  I'm still angry.  Really angry.  And I'm still trying to work through the forgive/forget/"love keeps no record of wrongs" confusion I've had since high school.  And the whole "God won't tempt you beyond what you can bear" confusion.  (Although we had a study on this section of the Bible in Sunday School last summer that helped quite a bit.  Trials vs. Temptations and all that.)

 So, all this to say I'm still trying to heal, and I'm hoping that by writing honestly about my experience, I can continue to work through this issue and move on emotionally.  I appreciate feedback, questions, etc. but am not looking to be coddled.  This isn't intended as a pity blog, but rather a way to gain empowerment, affirmation, and perspective.  If you care to read this, I welcome your comments.  If you disagree with something I say, feel free to tell me about it.  My posts will likely be as sporadic and jumbled as the voices bouncing around in my head, but will hopefully gain clarity along the way.  They probably won't all be as long as this one, either.  If you made it this far, thanks for reading.