"Born Again"

I went to church this morning for the first time in a month. I've been so tired, have had so many things happen, and have been so sick and tired of being sick and tired--otherwise known as depressed--that I just have not made it. Last night I had to stay the night at my mom's so she could physically wake me up so that I would actually make it there. I was still 20 minutes late, but quite literally, better late than never!

It was a service that was held just for me. I have no doubt that others took something away, but God brought me to that service for a special reason.

There was a funeral there today. I mourned the loss of a little girl who was molested beginning at age 3, a child that endured mental abuse, a child who lost her innocence and right to just be a child. For the first time, I mourned the loss of me.

I couldn't figure it out at the time, but I was compelled to go forward this morning when the preacher called up two people who had just experienced a death in their family and wanted to have us all pray for them. He asked if there was anyone else who needed the same prayer, and I felt like I needed to go up there. I've had A LOT of relatives in the last couple of weeks that have nearly died, and I myself thought I was having a heart attack a few weeks ago, so I thought with all of the stress, I must just feel like I need to grieve.

But as I stood there and my pastor was praying, I just started to cry, and I realized that I was crying for me, I was racked with sobs and just out-and-out broke down, crying for my lost little girl. Nobody up there knew what I was thinking or going through, but Pastor said, "You've been grieving long enough," and I knew that he was right. He said that Jesus paid for our freedom, and we're free from the grief and pain. I knew he was so right, I need to reach out for the freedom from my stolen childhood that Jesus bought for me.

Pastor's sermon today was about God being our shepherd, Jehovah-raah, and how that if we truly follow Him, instead of just running to Him in the bad times, He is our strength, He is our help, He is the One to deliver us from temptation--BEFORE we do it. These are all areas that I am struggling with. There's no doubt I was supposed to hear this message. Like my friend Jeff, who's studying theology, reminds me, there is NO word for coincidence in the Hebrew language....

The text of the message was Hebrews 4:11-16 (all here KJV). The first thing that spoke to me in verse 11 was, "enter into that rest." I have been beating myself up, struggling to figure out why I can't seem to change the way I want to, why I can't be strong enough to do what I need to do, why I....me, me, me, meeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.... Sounds like a vocal warm-up, not God's way of doing things.

I've liked the following verse for a long time: "Be still and know that I am God...." Psalm 46:10 KJV. I've known I need to be quiet so that He can work through me.

"If ye know these things, happy are ye if ye do them." John 13:17 KJV

Yeah, I know, but....

I've been in a panic for awhile because of my lifelong habit of being immovable, waiting for God to 'tell' me what He wants me to do, and never moving on my own--unless it's an out-and-out dumb thing to do that I know I shouldn't be doing. I can own that, truly. (See: Divorce)

But I've been struggling now for three years trying to change myself to be good enough for God, or been waiting for Him to turn on some magical hidden switch inside of me. That's not how He's working, let me tell you.

Verse 11's phrase, "Let us labour therefore to enter into that rest," now that makes sense to me when I think about what I've been trying to do, struggling to make myself do everything the right way--laboring to make things happen. I cannot make these things happen on my own. It's like the first part of the Serenity Prayer, which I loved way before I ever knew it was a 12-Step program mantra:

God, grant me the serenity
To accept the things I cannot change;
Courage to change the things I can;
And wisdom to know the difference.

I cannot change what makes me think. I can't, I don't even know how to begin to change how I think since I don't know what makes me think it. (You think?) But, like verse 11 says, we have to work at resting in God. Only He can do it. "I can do all things THROUGH Christ which strengtheneth me." Phil 4:13 KJV. It doesn't say, 'I can do all things with Him in the vicinity.... '

So, instead of laboring (struggling) to change me, I need to labor (work) at resting IN HIM. I need to seek Him every minute of the day. ("If ye know these things....")

No matter who said it (some say Benjamin Franklin, some say Einstein or some other), the definition of insanity truly is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result. That's where I've been, and it's been driving me insane. No doubt about it. Short trip.

So, verse 12 talks about God's Word and the power It has in our lives. (See: "If ye know these things....") Undoubtedly the Word is a great weapon. When Jesus was tempted in the desert by the devil, what did He use to fight? He responded with Bible verses. Good enough for Jesus, better believe it's good enough for me! Just need to implement it in every millisecond of my day.

You know, I have been thinking a lot lately about a guy I met in a 12-Step program that I saw again awhile ago. He had lost a tremendous amount of weight, to the point I didn't recognize him until I heard him speak. I asked him how he did it, and he said he simply prayed before each and every bite of food he took. Wow. Sounds nutty hardcore fanatical poison-laced kool-aid-drinking-crazy, doesn't it?

But that's EXACTLY what we should be doing--that's what I need to do!!!

So, verse 13 hit close to home for me as well. It basically says that there's nothing out of God's view. We all know He's omniscient, but somehow I am never just down-and-out bare-faced honest with Him. Why? I know He sees everything, knows everything, is everywhere, so what makes me think if I don't acknowledge something He won't notice it?

I know that when I'm just being 100% completely real about something I feel so relaxed, unburdened, not tensed and in turmoil. In just being real with Him and allowing Him to do the work--man that really takes the pressure off!!! Not that I'm saying, "hey God, You do all the work, I'll just lie here and eat bonbons." But instead of trying to figure it out myself and getting into a frenzy, I need to labor to rest, seek Him and say, "OK God, here I am, I need Your wisdom." That sounds much more peaceful and productive.

I swear I've said all this before.

Verse 14 declares Jesus is our High Priest who is the ONLY One by Whom we go to the Father--not an earthly priest who merely hears our confessions; I'll just let that one go, but Jesus said no man comes to the Father but through Him, so we don't need to confess to anyone else--but verse 15 is truly extraordinary, and I never realized its implications.

Verse 15 says that Jesus understands our pain, our sin, our temptations because He EXPERIENCED THOSE SAME TEMPTATIONS and YET WAS SINLESS.

OK, so we know Jesus was without sin. We know He was tempted by the devil in the desert and the garden. But I never thought about Him being tempted by every temptation that I am tempted by. The pastor today said, "I bet you all are thinking He was tempted by 'little' temptations." Of course he pointed out that all sins are the same in God's eyes, but yes, I never ever thought about Jesus being tempted in the way some of us are. Can you imagine Him being tempted in some of the ways we are with sex and pornography, chemical or substance use, gambling, etc? If He bore all of our sins on the Tree, then He had to know all of the sin and temptation that ever was, is and will be.

Can you imagine, our Precious Savior being subjected to some of the perversions of this world, because He loves us? Wow.

OK, so, He wants us to quit trying to bare the labor of the work but to rest in Him, to use His Word to its full power potential and not as a burden or for condemnation, to just be honest with Him because He knows it all and has seen it all anyway, to have Him only as our High Priest--who had been tempted in every way imaginable and can therefore understand what we're going through, and then:

Verse 16: "Let us therefore come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need."

He wants us to come honestly to Him with no pretense, not arrogantly as we might interpret 'boldly' today. And as the verse says, yes, we can obtain mercy for how we've screwed up, but we can obtain His grace so that we don't screw up to begin with; He knows how to keep from screwing up since He's already faced our challenges. That is so amazing.

So after Pastor closed, he had any of us who struggle with this, who struggle with not seeking God in all our times, not just times of trouble, who are so discouraged by our failure because we haven't realized the burden of life when given to Him becomes His responsibility. (Uff, what a relief!) Pastor told us that we are FREE INDEED in the Name of Jesus, we are not under that stress anymore if we accept this truth for our lives and implement it.

After the service, I talked to the couple who actually inspired me to go to this church. (Their light is so amazing.) I was telling them everything that's been going on in my and my family's life, and what I've been reading and discovering, and they thought it would be a good idea for me to go to the cemetery and 'talk to' and 'forgive' some of my relatives. We all know they're not there; it was simply an exercise of getting it off my chest, for me to at least speak out my feelings and then to forgive them from my heart.

My father's family are buried here so they are the ones I addressed. A lot of generational pain has gone on in both sides and so that is mostly what I talked about. I was surprised, however, that I spent so much time at my father's grave. Last year I had written him a letter and vented a lot of the repressed anger I had toward him. Today I really poured out pure hurt and pain. I really grieved there, really let out how badly he hurt me, and how his treatment has affected how I view myself, and all of my relationships. For the first time I spoke honestly about how he made me feel.

At his grave I said that I was hurt and sad that neither he, nor any of the other family members, had ever been brave enough to be honest about the whole family's dynamics and stepped up to try and stop the cycle of abuse, to stop the pain and stop hurting each other. Then I stopped and realized, that if they weren't brave enough, then that would mean--I'm brave. I am brave enough to look honestly at myself, my life, my relationships and try to change what isn't working, try to stop what does happen that shouldn't, and try to stop hurting those that I love. I am brave. I've NEVER thought of myself as brave. Cool. I'm brave!

I do wish they would have been able to step back and see what was really going on and try to fix it. I can't imagine what joy would have been in our family if it had happened. But, that's "how the cookie crumbles" as Pablo likes to say. I can't change the past, but sure can change for the future.

Well, I have always been very dramatic (No comments, please!), and have looked for ways to tie things together or make them more significant. I've been trying to avoid doing anything of the sort lately, but this evening I've been hearing the words to the song "Born Again" by Third Day, and they just speak how my heart rather feels. I don't feel like today was some angels-descending-lights-sparkling-poofing-clouds-sort-of-thing. The words just speak to me, and I feel like more of the weight of my past was chipped off. I'm making progress.

I'm including the lyrics to the song at the end of this post. Maybe they express something in your heart.

Be blessed!

:) Jan


"Born Again" Third Day

Today I found myself,
After searching all these years,
And the man that I saw,
He wasn't at all who I'd thought He'd be,

I was lost when You found me here,
And I was broken beyond repair,
Then You came along and sang Your song over me.

It feels like I'm born again
It feels like I'm living
For the very first time
For the very first time,
In my life

Make a promise to me now,
Reassure my heart somehow,
That the love that I feel,
Is so much more real than anything,

I've a feeling in my soul,
And I pray that I'm not wrong,
That the life I have now,
It is only the beginning.

It feels like I'm born again
It feels like I'm living
For the very first time
For the very first time

It feels like I'm breathing
It feels like I'm moving
For the very first time
For the very first time

I wasn't looking for something that was more,
Than what I had yesterday,

Then You came to me,
Then You gave to me,
Life and a love that I've never known,
That I've never felt before

It feels like I'm born again
It feels like I'm living
For the very first time
I'm living for the first time

It feels like I'm breathing
It feels like I'm moving
For the very first time
I'm living for the first time,
In my life.

Eureka, I'm Codependent!

Well, I've discovered a book all about me: Codependent No More by Melody Beattie. I can tell it's going to make some sense out of the nonsense I've been calling life.

I have been beating myself up for not being the person I should be and trying to figure out why I haven't been able to overcome the things I keep doing over and over. (Interestingly enough, the fact that I just said 'should' is a codependent thing....)

Here're the first couple of things that made complete sense about what I have been doing my whole life that have not been working:

"A codependent person is one who has let another person's behavior affect him or her, and who is obsessed with controlling that person's behavior."

ding-ding-ding!!! I have and have had certain people in my life whose opinions I hold in such high regard that I obsess about what they think about me, and what they would think about whatever I'm doing at the time, etc.

"[Codependency] lies in...the ways we have let other people's behavior affect us and in the ways we try to affect them: the obsessing, the controlling, the obsessive 'helping,' caretaking, low self-worth bordering on self-hatred, self-repression, abundance of anger and guilt, peculiar dependency on peculiar people, attraction to and tolerance for the bizarre, other-centeredness that results in abandonment of self, communication problems, intimacy problems, and an ongoing whirlwind trip through the five-stage grief process."

Whew, wow, OK, sounds a bit familiar...yes even the peculiar and bizarre. It took me awhile to own the last part about grief, but when I got to thinking about how long I grieved for my dad, and how I would see someone who looked like him or dressed like him, saw a van that looked like his, it was like he died all over again or he was there affecting me with mental abuse, or numerous sorts of things. It doesn't happen very often anymore, but that grief thing, yeah, it's on track.

Ohmygosh, here's more:

"[Codependents] have worried themselves sick about other people. They have tried to help in ways that didn't help. They have said yes when they meant no. They have tried to make other people see things their way. They have bent over backward to avoid hurting people's feelings and, in so doing, have hurt themselves. They have been afraid to trust their feelings. They have believed lies and then felt betrayed. They have wanted to get even and punish others. They have felt so angry they wanted to kill. They have struggled for their rights while other people said they didn't have any. They have worn sackcloth because they didn't believe they deserved silk."

I could cry, truly, because for once I am seeing in print exactly how I have felt but could never explain to anyone why I felt that way. I have spent so long feeling so inadequate, so worthless. My entire life of reactions and decisions have been a mystery to me because I never understood why on earth I have done the things I've done, especially when once I'm called out to see what I'm doing, I can't tell you why I've done it or what led me to do it. I swear sometimes Pablo thinks I'm making things up or lying because my actions do not make sense to him. They don't make sense to me and I'm the one doing them, so what does one make of that? I didn't know before, but at least I have hope that if I don't come to understand why I've done something, at least maybe I won't do it anymore.

Oh gosh, here's a BIG one for me:

"Codependents are reactionaries. They overreact. They underreact. But rarely do they act. They react to the problems, pains, lives, and behaviors of others. They react to their own problems, pains, and behaviors. Many codependent reactions are reactions to stress and uncertainty of living...."

I'm so tired of not acting but only reacting. But I've been trying to figure out how I can cause myself to act instead of react, when that's how I've always done it. I'm hoping this book will show me the keys to unlocking these things inside me that have been hidden since, well, I don't know if I've ever used them before. Oh good, Chapter 6 we'll be getting into that!

I know that my codependency comes from the relationship with my father. He was so overwhelming in so many aspects. He was the center of the universe for our family. Whatever mood he was in dictated whatever mood we were in. And, of course, not necessarily for long, because he could change moods or something could set him off in the blink of an eye. (Love to deny I'm anything like that....)

We had to walk on eggshells. We had to do things his way because he said so. We never seemed to do anything right. We were stupid, worthless, couldn't think for ourselves.... I realize that somewhere in there I gave up on ever trying to be anything but wrong, and gave up on trying to figure out anything for myself because I was wrong, stopped planning to do anything because we would do whatever he wanted anyway, and just tried to stay out of the way and make sure he was kept in a good mood if possible. It was a lot of work, and I wasn't very successful at it. I longed to make him proud, to do something well, to do something right. I've sought out men's approval my entire life because of it.

I figure that's why I had panic attacks since I can remember. I got to the point that nothing I did was good enough and so I panicked if I had to do anything short of follow directions--which I resented and have resented having to do because I know I have a brain, and when I'm not overanalyzing everything I think the darn thing works pretty well. But I've become so consumed with not doing something wrong, and about what people will think about me and what I have done that I'm afraid to do, say, or think anything that might be 'wrong'.

I spend so much time in overwhelming anxiety over what could be that I don't get anything accomplished. Pablo gets mad at me because my fear of screwing up or looking stupid keeps me from doing anything. I surely don't like it myself and would love to stop doing it. I simply haven't figured out what it takes to flip the switch over yet. Sometimes I wonder how long it will take for me to get it, and who will be left in my life by the time I do?

Oh my goodness, there's a list several pages long of characteristics of codependents that I've gone through now, and let me tell you, out of 233 (if I counted correctly) possible characteristics of codependency, I DON'T think I have problem with 6 of them.... Here's what they are:

1.) Equate love with pain.

I must say that any 'love' relationship I have been in has been filled with pain, but I know that a truly loving and honest relationship may have painful times, but not as a result of one or both of the people inflicting pain on the other person intentionally.

2.) Think God has abandoned them.
3.) Lose faith and trust in God.

Neither of those are accurate. I know that without God I am completely lost and if anything I know that it's only through His grace that He sticks with me and I am blessed because of it!

4.) Wonder if they'll ever not be angry.

I don't feel that I am angry a lot, but rather not happy. Pablo has to call me out on how negative I talk and how easily I see what sucks than what's extraordinary. I want to change that for sure.

I was thinking about it, and it's not that I start out the day happy and then as things happen throughout the day, get worse and worse. I start out unhappy and things get worse throughout the day. I've tried to remind myself to get happy, with notes here and there, writing it on my hand the night before. Should you really have to remind yourself to be happy? Does that mean I am just an unhappy person with no prospects of ever being happy, that in my core I am rotten?

No, I don't believe that. I know that I need to stick closer to God and then His light will shine.

5.) Be extremely responsible.

Oh, I wish that were true but I've tried to quit lying even if it's a little white lie or if it's only lying to myself, so I know I can't mark THAT one.

6.) Become addicted to alcohol or other drugs.

I'm SO glad that I haven't done that!!! I know with all of the meds I've taken that I could abuse prescription pills if I wanted to, but I've never in the least bit been interested in that. I've never been into illegal drugs either, though I've wondered what Ecstasy or LSD feels like, though maybe everyone has wondered that, and like Bill Clinton, I tried to inhale, but just couldn't....

They should have added a few things to that list besides those chemicals: FOOD? Now that's something I KNOW I'm addicted to. I fell off the wagon last night and today as a result of some very emotional situations. I sometimes wish it was a chemical I am addicted to--you can live without alcohol or drugs, but you cannot live without food. It sucks. It's my comfort, my entertainment, my friend, my enemy! The book does say it later, though: "Many people with eating disorders are codependents."

I don't know what to expect out of reading this book. I'm definitely hopeful, but a bit trepidatious. I guess only time and action will tell--hopefully not time waiting for something to happen and not reaction.... I've spent too much of my life already trying to get over the past doing the same crap.

As the quotation that is commonly attributed to Benjamin Franklin or Albert Einstein states:

"The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results."

I surely don't want to be insane, and I'm tired of things turning out like crap. Let's try something new, even if I fail, at least it's DIFFERENT! I want to be codependent no more, I want to stand on my own (with GOD!) and act like an adult, act 'normal,' not be buggered about what everybody might think about what I'm saying or doing. I just want to be ME. Oh, that sounds good indeed!

Be blessed!

:) Jan

Exploring Expletives

I went to see the movie "Julie & Julia" with my mother (Julia who goes by Julie) on Labor Day. The movie is based on the true story of writer and blogger Julie Powell who decided to cook her way through Julia Child's French cookbook in the span of one year and blog about it. The story intertwined with the life story of Julia herself; it was so interesting to learn about the classically trained quirky chef and the things that she and her husband went through. Yes, basically it was a "chick flick" but I enjoyed it for its closer to truth than fiction story lines.

Anyway, considering this post is about expletives, I suppose I should make the segue to why "Julie & Julia" relates to the topic. The movie was virtually free from any foul language--aside from duck deboning or poultry trussing, har har har--and sexual innuendo with pasta. The most blatant expletive usage was the part of which my mother did not approve: the F Word placed at an entirely fitting and completely hilarious moment.

Confession: I dig the F Word and all its variations. It is one of my all-time favorite words, perfect in so many usage possibilities: noun, verb, adjective, in compound forms...so satisfying in its nastiness (with a lot of possibilities I'd forgotten about until I Googled the etymology of it). If not for the fact that it makes me sound so uneducated and uncouth I would use the F Word with reckless abandon. It is, unfortunately, a habit that rears its ugly head mostly on those occasions when I am interacting with obstinate inanimate objects, obnoxious or inept drivers, or, I'm most embarrassed to say, when my mother pushes my last button.

My mother HATES the F Word. Vehemently. Passionately. Abhors it. That is what originally inspired my desire to use it in her presence.

My father, on the other hand, was a most gifted and proficient curser. He was in the military and certainly retained many colorful expressions from that time. And as I practically worshiped him as a child, I wanted to emulate him. And, of course, in school it was so cool to cuss behind adults' backs. I became a pro profaner. And bottom line, I just liked the way it sounded and how it gave power to my speech.

I have tried to kick the habit and clean up my language and have been able to considerably limit the usage of expletives. When I start getting wound up I tend to use quite a few--something I still really need to work on.

But, I've been really thinking about words and how the Bible says that life and death is in our tongues. I have come to realize I've been dividing expletives and such into two categories: completely evil and really-meaningless-yet-not-so-nice.

I abhor taking God's name in vain! I do not OM_ opting for "ohmygosh" or something similar to make a point, and I can't believe how many avowed Christians use God's name so flippantly. He must be so grieved that people have become so blasé that they don't think twice about cursing Him. I'm not perfect, of course, especially when it comes to things like, "Oh, Lord" or something similar when not beseeching Him. How many of us use it and don't think about it? I've caught myself doing it and have felt so ashamed.

It's easy to become self-righteous about overt blasphemy like taking God's or Jesus' name in vain, but how often do the phrases roll off of our tongues and we don't blink an eye? Why don't we think it's a big deal to OM_ but have hissies over the F Word or slang for body parts?

I have stopped watching many movies and reading many books for taking God's name in vain in one way or another. I think it only took 3 minutes of "Hancock" for Will Smith to take Jesus' name in vain. I still remember he landed inside the car and then said it. Can't tell you what happened after that. I put down one of Nicholas Sparks' last books not too far into it for the character saying Jesus' name in vain.

I can't even tell you the last time I listened to mainstream radio. I realized several years ago that I have to be careful about the music that I listen to because I have such a connection with music, enjoy singing so much that I really take the lyrics to heart. When I listened to some songs I ended up thinking about doing things I shouldn't or feeling bad about not being like the people in the songs or having what they were singing about--mostly to do with men, love, sex, a beautiful body.... Yes I've heard, seen and read a whole lot less, but I can say that there's been a lot less "garbage in" thus producing much less "garbage out."

Why is blasphemy so accepted that people don't even bat an eye anymore? A friend of mine said the Sparks book was so great. When she asked me later how I liked it I told her I didn't finish it and why. She said she hadn't even noticed, and she's a Christian. How sad.

OK, so then when you think about other things that we say: take "damn". Now there's a word we shouldn't be slinging around, especially followed by "you" and definitely not preceded with God's name! I tend to catch myself damning "its". And then there's "Hell" that definitely should not be used lightly! I think if we were more serious about making sure people weren't going there and not so focused on fitting into the world we might take notice of some of these things.

You know another word we really shouldn't use so casually is "holy." I've been to Toledo, and it's not all that. I love me some cows--they're udderly fantastic and hay, I cud milk the puns for all they're worth--but really, they are not holy! Shouldn't we limit our usage of that word to the One Who truly is holy? My Saviour's Name, my Almighty Creator's Name is precious, and the reality of salvation and damnation should make those of us who should "know better" to choose our words more carefully.

So, when you think about the F Word, it's not quite on the same plane as these other infractions, it's just a word. It is not a nice word, and it can definitely be used to get into trouble with someone sexually, or can be used to hurt or incite someone to anger, but is it so bad?

Well, the Bible says we should refrain from all bad language and speaking:

"Let no corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth, but that which is good to the use of edifying, that it may minister grace unto the hearers." Ephesians 4:29 KJV

"But shun profane and idle babblings, for they will increase to more ungodliness. And their message will spread like cancer." II Timothy 2:16-17a NKJV

The F Word may only be a word with no real spiritual significance, but bottom line, I should not be using it, should not be telling any off-color or down-right dirty jokes, or making any sexual innuendos whatsoever. What it comes down to is can what I say cause someone else to stumble, or give them an excuse to not want to be a hypocrite Christian like me? I don't want to take the chance!

So, there you have it, my exposition exposing extraneous and exploitative expletives.

Have you truly listened to yourself lately? Do you know what others are hearing you say? Do you realize what God is hearing you say?

My mom used to wash my mouth out with liquid dish soap when I was a kid--she would probably be jailed with my removal from her custody in today's pansy world. But I was such a little tyrant that I would smack my lips and exclaim how good it was and would actually ask for more.

You have to hand it to my mom, she tried her best with what she had to work with. I have told her before she should have beat me within an inch of my life, but it's too late now!!! Maybe I should employ the dish soap deterrence system to keep me from further expletive explosions. Naaaaaaaaaaah! But I definitely want to clean up my language and bring glory to My Heavenly Father. Shouldn't we all?

Be blessed-

Jan

Another WOW Moment & Kick in the Pants

So, I just had a two and a half hour conversation with Pablo and he gave me more "wows" and helped me see what I've been doing and face more truths about myself. Praise God, but golly, how many more things do I need to get kicked over before I "get it" myself and stop acting foolishly?

(By the way, there will be a good post in the future about expletives, but I couldn't concentrate because of this, so stay tuned....)

I've been leaning unto my own understanding. Not a good call on my part. I've been allowing fear to dominate my life still and yet not seeing it that way. I've been trying to force plans and panicking about what I think I should be doing instead of finding where God wants me to be according to His time and plan.

Ugh, I feel like a big screw-up right now, but I'm glad to be getting over the looking stupid part and just try to see the light. Poor Pablo, I am so glad he's in my life but I know he's about tired of my crap and that I never seem to "get it". I'm tired of that, but I think it's because I've been trying to use my brain to figure things out instead of asking God and seeking help from others. I cannot be left to my own devices.

That's actually pretty much what this morning's sermon was about: letting God work in and through us instead of trying to do it ourselves. I have been asking God to get me out of my own (His) way. I've been asking that, but I haven't been actively doing it myself. I'm not quitting God or giving up on serving Him, but I know I'm not trying hard enough to just rest in Him while being active in my pursuit of Him and being everything He wants me to be.

Now, I have been a quitter my whole life. If something's too hard, if it seems like I just don't get it, if I'm thinking I'm probably a bigger problem than I could actually be a solution, whatever it is that is going through my head at the time, whatever it is that I am obsessing about or focusing on, that's what makes me quit.

I quit the history fair in grade school when one of my friends decided not to do it because it just was too much work and we shouldn't make the effort. (Jan the Follower didn't see the destination of accomplishment & learning, just the journey of work & effort with the possibility of failure.) I quit the Women in the Sciences program in junior high because I wanted to seem cool to the same friend who was quitting 'cause it just was too boring. (Jan the Follower) I wanted to quit band my freshman year of high school because I wasn't as good at it as my brother and didn't want to work as hard at it as he did, but my mom made he keep at it. (Jan the Lazy & Fearful of Failure)

Gosh, I've sat here thinking about the things I've done or not done, accomplished or not accomplished, and about the question that Pablo asked me: what motivates me?

I've been a very selfish person. I've been motivated by money, I've been motivated by how it makes me look to others, I've been motivated by the hope for acceptance, I've been motivated by guilt, by fear, by sense of duty, but I've also been motivated by love, compassion, the sense of doing what's right, all very unselfish motives. I've had a lot of different motivations in doing or not doing many things.

So, now, the big questions: what do I really want to do, and why do I really want to do them? And the next big things are, how will I accomplish them, what lengths will I go to finish the tasks, and are my true motivations going to make me succeed--or will I fail or quit like I have so many times?

Well, I need to really peel away all the shoulds and coulds, and decide where my heart lies. What is my attitude toward all of the things I might do, and what do I think my true calling is? What have I labeled myself as, why am I afraid of some of the labels I might have, and why do I think I have to have a label at all?

Since I lost my full-time job last year I have been in limbo. This job was a source of income, a source of insurance, a source of an identity. It was not a source of pride, a source of accomplishment, a source of challenges to make me grow. But I mourned the loss of my comfort and my pride.

Losing that job was one of the best things that has happened to me. But I have dreaded the question: "Where do you work?" because to me and the typical American, that 40-hour a week position with benefits and retirement defined my role as a productive--and acceptable--member of society.

I didn't see that I was just a fake bankrupt character not giving my best at something that didn't make me want to be the best. However, since then, how have I defined myself? Mainly as a failure. Have I really tried to be anything more than that? Not really except that Praise God I finally in the last couple of months figured out that I need to live in the Light of God and actively work for Him.

Awesome!

Except:

I have been frantically trying to apply my definition of what really following God is, and that definition has been wrong. Thank God above that He had Pablo kick me again to make me realize that I have had it all wrong, and I've been trying to force a black and white idea of what I think I "should" be on God. And, in doing that and planning some grand scheme of a new life I was quitting everything that hasn't been working in my life--and not working because I had not been working, because I had again quit and given up because what I thought should happen by now hasn't been happening so obviously I shouldn't be doing it.

Yes, sort-of. I shouldn't be doing it the way I have been doing it. Aha! (Wow.)

So, then, back to motives: why have I been doing/not doing what I've been doing where I am? Fear. Indecision. Plain old giving up instead of seeing the big picture. Forgetting where I started.

Thank God again Pablo reminded me of where we started and how far we've come, and how we even began. If not mainly for him, we would not be where we are--because of all of the reasons I listed above that have resulted in me not accomplishing much of anything.

I'm going to be completely vulnerable here: since I have let so many of those things cause me to fail in the past, what makes me think I can do it this time? How many things have I started and never finished?

Oh gosh, that list would be a long sucker.

I have to be honest here and say I'm scared. I'm scared I am going to fail.

But, I'm scared of not trying and that scares me worse than the possibility of failure.

I know if I don't try then I might as well hang it up right now, sell all that I have left, move in with my mom, give up and die before I reach 50 like the doctors say I will anyway. That would be SO easy.

My mom would take care of me. I could be selfish and let her. She would do it, and I have plenty of excuses as to why I could go that way. I've been diagnosed with just under a dozen pretty major conditions. She can work circles around me. She's lonely and would like the companionship. I'm alone and would have somebody taking care of me. I love my mom, she loves me, and I know she believes that I am a victim of a lot of bad circumstances, and that bottom line I am her sick little fat girl she needs to take care of.

Ouch. Let's just put it out there.

I've played the victim my whole life. I have indeed been a victim of many painful things throughout my life, but I DO NOT want those things to define me any longer. If I would choose to give up and let my mom take care of me then I would be giving in to playing the victim. Unfortunately she has been doing the same thing for many years as well. We've both been drama queen victims wallowing in the fact that life isn't fair and we've been too afraid to be hurt any more.

It would be so easy for me to exploit the co-dependant relationship we've had. I have plenty of reasons why I could give up. It's just too hard to accomplish anything when you have as many physical ailments as I. How can you think when you barely sleep, have "brain fog" are in constant pain, are plagued by depression and anxiety...? And since Dad died, Mom has been lonely, and fearful, so we would be in a sense taking care of each other....

I rebuke it all in the name of Jesus! I am not defined by diagnoses, and if I stay in that mindset I am dead already. We are no longer victims of past abuse. I choose to live, and to do so, I must choose how I am going to live, and decide what's most important to me.

I need to keep these things in front of my eyes. How do I do that? Am I really so shallow that I don't have that sticking ability? I seem to always unravel once the passion of the moment subsides, as Pablo said, once the emotion fades. My resolve and motivations must be strong or I will let go again and quit.

My parents are two of the reasons why I have always done these things, I know that, but I can't continue doing it just because they inspired or encouraged these traits. I know that a lot of the reasoning behind my quitting things is fear, and the fear is driven by my diminished self-esteem resulting from my father's mental abuse. My mother has always been plagued by low self-esteem and fear, and just caved-in when things were too hard, ran away from them or simply cried. I learned from the best two on why or how to avoid things.

But, I can't live in the past, I can't blame them forever. I have to take responsibility. And I have to admit I'm worried that maybe deep down I am shallow.

No, I can't believe that. I know the truth about what God made me to be: I'm fearfully and wonderfully made--but not made to be fearful. God has not given me the spirit of fear, but of power, love and a sound mind. And the work that He started in me He will not quit until it is finished. He Who is in me is greater than he who is in the world.

Oh, God, why is it so hard to be what You want me to be and what I want me to be? If You could just go ahead and flip that switch in my heart and head that changes me, I'd be really grateful!

All right, so then, balls to the wall, I'm deciding what's important to me, and why they're important to me, and that they're important enough to WORK at, and having faith that I will succeed in persevering and not being a quitter.

Now seriously, let me give myself a bit of credit. I have wanted to quit working on the business stuff since about the beginning because of being so scared and just fearful of trying anything at all, being afraid I was too sick to see it through, and because of the volatile relationship Pablo and I had at the beginning. Here we are nearly 3 years later and I'm still here. Now, technically I was ready to quit tonight, but not to do nothing and let my mom take care of me.

I want to work for God and I know that He has a calling on my life.

However, I was trying to force His Hand in a way, dictating what I thought He would want of me, and thinking it was that way or the highway. But thank God He gave Pablo such discernment and a window into my heart and head that he made me realize what I was doing was not according to God's will, but what I was telling God His will was.

And let me be honest, I know that my relationship with my mom is one that tempts me to just do nothing, and I keep thinking I need to escape from it and leave this place. If I'm supposed to be working for God, and I need to get away from where I am, I made the giant leap to packing up and moving half-way around the world as the answer.

Once I think about it and deconstruct all of my behavior I really seem so very foolish and childish. I'm embarrassed by my gung-ho "my way" grandiose yet escapist thinking. Thank God He sent my best friend and covenant relationship partner Pablo to tell me when I'm acting like an imbecile and getting too big for my britches, or allowing my fear to dictate my actions.

OK, so, what does all of this mean? This means that right now I'm in my WOW! stage and am feeling like I can march through the world and conquer everything! So then, that means I need to go pray now, and tomorrow, and forever, to just stay raw and vulnerable about who I am and am not, and about what I want to do while making sure I'm in God's will: take every thought captive to the obedience of Christ.

Now let me say one thing I've been learning about God's will, and one lie in my head that has the ability to keep me immobile: there is no great light bulb that is going to come on over my head, no great big magic wand that's going to come out of thin air and bonk me on the head sending stardust into my eyes so I can magically see His will, no great booming voice saying, "Aha! Yes, move now, this is My will!" Poof! Eureka, you've got it!

I've been waiting for that my whole life and that has rendered me useless.

That's a big reason why I was trying to force God's Hand in my plans because I have spent so much time waiting and doing nothing that I decided to do the polar opposite, decided I better saddle up and ride, full steam ahead! (I do so love mixed metaphors.)

I don't know why I tend to think it always has to be one way or the other. I don't have to define God's definition of serving Him for Him according to my preconceived notions. But I do know that there are things in my heart that I still want to do for Him. Pablo made me see that I was just trying to force it how I thought it had to be. I don't like being so blind--God give me eyes to see, ears to hear, a clean heart and a renewed spirit, please.

OK, so moving away from Plan B, which is what I was on...to Plan...G, I think.

And I need to stop trying to partition life into certain segments and think they shouldn't interact. Hello!?!?! Where did I begin with Pablo, with business? With God. And with God, all things are possible, right? So why wouldn't they still interact? Why would I think one is interfering with the other?

Oh God, I've been foolish in my thinking. Thank You for showing me my errors in thinking, and for sending me Pablo.

OK, so I guess that's where I will leave it for now. Not at all what I thought I would be writing as my next post. I already have the other one written and intended to just type it up. Wrong-o. And I'm so glad, I'm so glad that I can use this blog to work through my issues.

I wonder sometimes if this blather helps anyone out there at all. Does anyone aside from a couple of my friends read this--and gosh, considering how much I have put out here, what on earth must they be thinking of me?

When I started the blog I thought maybe my stories would help other people see that they're not the only ones going through stuff--that I was making a difference. In the middle, I lost that and hoped that people were "reading me" and I was important, until I forgot to remember my place in Christ and went with the lie that I was crazy--ugh those are painful posts to reread let me tell you, though I praise Him that He brought me out of that Egypt!

But over the last couple of months I've realized that my motivation has changed back to what it was in the beginning, with the addition that it's not that I am looking to help someone or else it's not worth it, a false sense of being needed or important, but into a hope that in baring my heart and hurts, in releasing the pain or pleasure that my life brings, I may be able to help someone, even if I never have a clue about it, and really, I'm helping me be a better me, so I am helping myself.

How can anyone else love me if I don't love myself? Writing in this blog helps me love myself. That's really cool to realize actually.

So, anyway, that's where I am: Plan G. I'll keep you posted, literally.

Be blessed!

:) Jan

My Separate Selves

Well, I had an interesting session with my counselor today.

I can't exactly remember how it came about. We were talking about setting boundaries with people (something I've not been so good at, i.e.: Marie), and so she suggested role-playing that I was having a discussion with someone about re-evaluating our relationship. Just talking about it made me really anxious and nervous. I couldn't even formulate thoughts as the fear overtook me; I wanted to escape even talking about doing it. I know one of my coping mechanisms has been avoidance--I really want to stop doing that so that I can deal with things straight on instead of hoping they go away or hoping they take care of themselves. (So, does that mean I want to avoid avoidance...? He he he.)

So anyway, she asked me to describe the fear 'person' that I have, young, old, "How does 'she' look?" I imagine the fear aspect of my self as rather like a teenager. She's afraid she can't do anything, afraid to try things because she might fail, might be ridiculed, afraid if she doesn't try things she will be left behind. I know this fear comes from being judged by my dad. It has become so paralyzing to me! Every day I go through the agonizing throes of being afraid.

My fear is not really only in one area, but in every area, and not all the time, just at different times. I am afraid of what others think, I'm afraid of failure, of making the wrong choices, I'm afraid that if I act or think a certain way my friends or family will leave me--I never admitted that one before. I'm afraid people will leave me because I'm not what they want. Hmm. Have to ruminate about that one for later.

I'm tired of being afraid.

I'm tired of the paralysis of fear.

I'm tired of the immobility of fear.

I'm tired of beating myself up over being afraid.

I'm tired of feeling so isolated by fear.

My counselor has said before that due to all of my abuse as a child, I have a 'little girl' inside of me that never got the chance to grow up in a healthy environment, and as a result she rears her head when she feels like she's not being or not going to be taken care of: my Child Self. I've imagined that, and felt like that is valid. I didn't feel safe or loved and as a result didn't get what I needed. So, in essence, this Child Self is seeking protection and validation. And I, as my nurturing Adult Self, can take care of those needs.

I can see this. When I think about it, sometimes how I act or feel, I can see that my actions are indeed childish. I hate it, truly I do. I feel like such an idiot. I'm acting like a little kid, how pathetic is that? I'm trying to be more cognizant of my feelings so that I can recognize when my old Child Self needs some help feeling at ease. It's really weird to think about it like that. I guess it is what it is, and I will overcome it, it just takes time.

So, besides my Child Self, now I have a Teen Self--which actually is a lot like my Child Self. Basically, my Teen Self is afraid. She's afraid of failing, of not being lovable, not being good enough, messing things up beyond recognition for myself or others, afraid of expressing something to someone that is unacceptable--that they will then leave me because I am then unacceptable. (There seems to be a theme of being afraid of everybody leaving me; again I will have to come back to that sometime.) The Child and Teen are a lot alike--it all comes down to fear, and seems to be tied to being left behind. Maybe they're really the same girl.

I know I will overcome this fear thing. I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me!

So, if I talk about my Adult Self, who is she? She is strong, passionate, smart, courageous, loving, talented, empathetic, compassionate, understanding, accepting, warm, nurturing, open, a good listener, trustworthy, confident, respectful, grounded...she is who I am. I know this, sometimes, but most of the time I let these younger feelings or emotions take over. I need to remember who I really am and stay focused on that, not the past and not past feelings.

My goal is to be my Adult Self at all times, and not get under the influence of my 'younger selves'. Because when I let them overtake me, then I lose all sense of who I really am now. I have grown up. I am strong. I am capable. I CAN do it. I just have to believe it.

:) Jan

Tired and Sad

Well, I am happy to say that I am finished with all of my Disability paperwork to date. It has been a long and arduous project. It started in January when I was on those heinous Tramadol pills. I ended up messing up that set of paperwork so much I had to just type them out. It's been crazy.

Last night I almost had a melt-down when the computer came up with a message that the file had become corrupted or was lost.

!@#$%^&*

Then I couldn't make Word work at all.

!@#$%^&*

Had I not been talking to my best friend Pablo I am sure I would have completely lost it and had a drama fit. After all of that work and I thought I had lost it all! It took forever to get the computer to shut down, and then forever to reboot, and then a short forever to get the file to come back up. Pablo held my hand virtually until it came back. I love that boy.

So today I went to print the thing off to mail and...ran out of ink.

!@#$%^&*

So, I had to go out to the office supply store and get some so I could finally put that thing in the mail. I am SO glad it's not here anymore, I've had enough of it, all the way around.

:) :) :) :) :)

But, I have to say that dwelling on everything in those reports has taken a toll on me. It took quite a physical toll, especially this last week as I have worked like crazy to get them finished and back to the SSD office. All of the typing and sitting for hours at a time really wreaked havoc throughout my body. This will be a short post, I think, as my hands and back already hurt so much.

But the other thing about filling out those reports--Work History, Function, and Symptoms--they really hit home the reality of how badly my body functions now. And that has put me into rather a sadness and I think a type of mourning for my losses.

As I filled out the work history, I went through all of my jobs for the last 15 years. The very first one on the list was as a Student Manager of my university dining hall. I loved that job, and I was really good at it. I could buzz around that dining hall from one end to the other and not miss a beat. I smelled like a French fry all the time, but I loved it. That was a really hard job and I did it well. And it grieves me to think I cannot perform even a fraction of that job today.

The function report saddened me as well, making me feel like I'm worthless. The wording of the questions was rather harsh, asking, so-what-DO-you-do-all-day kinds of questions. And it really hurt my heart to think of what I cannot do, and what my mother, who is twice my age, has to do for me most of the time. A simple task like laundry is virtually impossible at this time.

And I can't believe that I will be like this forever, I just can't.

I want to be a better me, and I am so frustrated at what I can't do anymore, and I haven't figured out how to cope with being the me that I am at this point. Everything I can think to do I can't seem to make happen. I don't know how else to be. I need to help myself, indeed, but the things I know I can do don't seem to be enough to get anywhere.

I SO don't want to wallow like I was doing last month. Oh, I don't! But my frustration is so great that I just feel like if I don't get it off of my chest I will sink even deeper into depression.

I don't want to stress out Pablo either, and don't want him to feel burdened by me or my struggles. He gets so sad when I tell him what's going on, and I know he wants to know, and cares what's going on, but I know there are so many things in his life that he has to deal with, and I hate the thought that I would be a source of pain in his life. He is always trying to think of ways to help me. I wish I could help him.

And my mom, God bless my mom, I don't know what I'd do without her. She takes care of me and so many things that I can't. It's so not fair that she has me to deal with. And I feel guilty, too, because I'm afraid that I won't get better, that I will never find a mate to spend the rest of my life with...I feel so selfish for wanting a husband when she has no one. I don't want to feel this way. I wish she would at least find somebody to love her like she deserves.

My father in no way treated her like she needed or should have been treated. He only hit her once in front of me, sending her sailing across the camping trailer with a thud. I will NEVER forget that as long as I live. I can still hear the sound her body made hitting against the cupboard, can still see her in my mind's eye sitting on the floor like a rag doll. Oh, God, I beg you, please send her the man of her dreams, she's waited a lifetime for him!!!

Anyway, all of this together combined with the report I just finished on symptoms...I surely feel sad at the loss of my former self. But you know, in the back of my mind I know there's hope. I know that there are things I am preparing for, or more accurately, that God is preparing me for. I have always defined myself by what I've done, or answered to where I worked as to what I was up to. I don't know how to answer right now. Nothing's making much sense, and I'm trying not to panic.

This, too, shall pass, I know that. I'm surrounded by amazing people in my life who remind me daily how lucky I am. I just want to be a blessing. I'm hoping that I can find something to bless others with that I can do without a hitch. I haven't blogged at all like I planned. Life has gotten in the way a few times and tripped me up. I guess I expect perfect, and then when I screw up, I give up. But I don't want to give up this blog, and maybe I just set too high of expectations. I intended to write daily. I find I'm too tired most days to do it. But, like I did tonight, I need to push myself and do it anyway, but then make sure I don't push myself too far. It's difficult to come back from too far. I've already spent a whole hour more than I intended...time seems to fly by so quickly.

Anyway, I'm glad that is over with, and I know that this melancholy will subside. I hope in the meantime I can come up with something that will help me cope better and take some of the pressure off of me and those I love.

:) Jan

Let's Talk About Sex

All right, I've been pondering this post for awhile, but wasn't sure quite how to go about it.

So, no guts, no glory...no embarrassment??? Well, here goes.

I have had issues with sex all of my life. As I mentioned, I was molested as a child. Add to that I was brought up in an ultra-strict church that made sex sound dirty. Add to that I had an emotionally distant and verbally abusive father who did not give me the kind of love and attention for which I craved. Add to that I developed rapidly, and especially with large breasts. I have almost always been overweight--except that I was quite skinny before the molestation incidents and up to starting kindergarten and all of the stress of the anxiety disorder--and have had a very low self-esteem as a result. I have played the "tease" role. I was raped by my fiance. I have given myself away to men who didn't deserve it, but I hoped if I gave them what they wanted, they would give me what I needed. The cards were stacked against me very early for any sort of healthy sexuality, and my own behavior has compounded it throughout the years. Sex has been a very scary thing for me, and a place I've never felt I could be completely vulnerable as I have never been able to trust, for obvious reasons. I'm trying to let all of that go.

The molestations: I was molested 4 times by a variety of people that I should have been able to trust. I'm not sure about the ages, but I believe the first time was at age 3 and probably the last time at age 5 or 6. Every location was different, every situation different, every requirement different, and not all of those involved were men. I often wonder if any of them remember doing it. I do, I sure do. I vividly remember every detail. And I've been working very hard to forgive them so that I can move on and not let it ruin my life anymore.

(When I looked at this post on the page I had to come back here and add that the picture on the left shows me before any of these events happened, but one happened in that chair, right where it sat, beside the kitchen door leading into the living room. I live in the same house today, and though it doesn't look quite the same, I see that spot, and think about it every day. I plan to come back to this topic soon.)

I'm thankful that they were not chronic abuses, but separate incidents. I can't imagine what it would have been like if the person(s) continued to violate me. I thank God that I didn't have to suffer that abuse. All things work for good....

Anyway, I did tell my father about the first incident and he nearly killed the guy. So, it wasn't like I didn't know I couldn't tell anyone. I just learned that the retaliation from that person was unpleasant to say the least. I also felt guilty. Even at that young age I felt like I had done something wrong in that it had happened at all. But, I only later told my mom that any of the others happened, and told her about one of them just within the last couple of years. I guess it's common for survivors of molestation to internalize everything. That has caused me a lot of heartache indeed.

I don't think it's any coincidence that I started to gain weight when I went to school. Not only was I battling nervous vomiting everyday that put me in a love-hate relationship with food and caused me to sneak food in the middle of the night, but it was also around the time I was starting to develop. I remember my father sitting down with my mother and me to say I needed to wear a training bra. That was pretty early on, and I am fairly sure around age 7. I was laughing the other day with a friend with whom I was in the second grade. That year we played BJ and the Bear, from the TV show, at recess out on the playground. Jeff played "BJ" and Brian played "Bear" (my best friend, Mandy, was Bear's sister, even though he didn't have one and that would have made her a monkey, but she had a crush on Brian--how cute is that?). I started out as just one of the many women BJ had around. But, at one point Jeff/BJ said I was to be "Stacks". The girl who had been playing Stacks complained as she had blond hair. Jeff said, "Well, she has the stacks." It was settled.

I think I was learning from all of these events that the only real attention I got from a man was of a sexual nature. All but one molestation occurred exclusively with men. Even at school, boys would pay attention to my developing body. I had such a low self-esteem from the interaction with my father, as well as from being overweight. I, too, think that the weight was a way to make myself undesirable. If I could insulate myself from men by being the fat girl, then maybe they wouldn't hurt me.

That turned when puberty started. I slimmed down some and liked that men would pay attention to me. I can look back on it and think it's because I felt love-starved from my father. But, when I added in the guilt feelings from the church teachings, I was somewhat scared at how I was feeling. I knew that according to the Bible it is wrong to have sex outside of marriage, there was never any doubt in my mind about that. But, some of the people who would do our summer camps were college students, and overcome with zeal to make sure we didn't do anything we shouldn't. I remember this one conversation between 2 college counselors that were speaking. They were talking about saving yourself for marriage and you know how people banter back and forth? Well, this girl finally said, "You shouldn't even kiss before you're married. If you do, you're not a virgin anymore." I was devastated listening to that conversation, I was ruined for sure and felt like I was to blame.

Even though I had a fear of sex, and a fear of making God angry, I wanted to feel wanted. I started playing a teasing game with men. I wanted to get their attention, but only to a point. I remember another summer at that same camp when I met Brian G. I was 12, and he was 18, and of course I didn't tell him how old I was. He had come to camp for the Thursday night camp fire, and somehow we hooked up. We sat together at the fire, and I leaned into him, and we held hands and he started caressing me, etc. Thankfully a counselor finally found us and broke it up, I don't know how far it would have gone. I didn't see him after that night, and frankly don't remember ever talking to him again, but think I might have...?

Later that summer, my mother woke me up really early one morning. "Who's Brian G.?"

"I have no idea, what time is it?"

"Who is Brian G.?"

"I don't know."

"You better figure it out because your father nearly beat him up last night at work."

"Oh, s^&*!"

Well...come to find out this guy had ended up working for my father at the power plant as a college student. Apparently they were all sitting around at dinner and he was telling them about this cute chick he met earlier that summer and even rattled off the telephone number--my telephone number--my dad's telephone number. I don't know exactly what happened, but suffice it to say Brian G. knew I was 12 and he was lucky to be alive. Thank God indeed I was born before the Internet or who knows, he might have Google Earth-ed me and showed up at my house! Oh, I was definitely put in the right place and time!

I never felt beautiful, never thought I was pretty, and my father or brother never helped me in that area, not that I think many male family members really fawn over their female family members and let them know they're beautiful. But, their comments tended to be about how I was ugly and overweight. Anytime that a boy or man would make me feel the least bit pretty or desirable I was automatically obsessed with him and wanted to have him pay attention to me. It's a very dangerous thing when a girl looks for validation from a guy, because if the guy is of questionable character he will get what he can from her, and then discard her. That has happened to me more times than I can count. I'm working on being completely in love with myself so that I don't have to have someone else do it for me.

My parents should have kept closer reins on me, though, and I wish they had seen signs of my trouble with sexuality. Perhaps if you see your child do any of the following, you might check into the possibility of molestation:

- Changing clothes: When I was little I would change my clothes every couple of hours. My mother would catch me doing it, but I never had a good reason, I just wanted to have new clothes on.

- Obsession with clean underwear: To this day I don't go on a trip without 3 times the amount I need, and -- TMI -- find myself changing underwear several times a day. It's almost compulsive at this point.

- Caught with other children doing inappropriate things: I remember doing some things with several different children, and I wonder now if they were molested, too. We would do things like close doors and look at each other naked, play 'doctor', role play as different characters on TV. Our knowledge was way beyond a normal amount, and beyond normal curiosity. I know I acted out some of the things that were done to me.

- Provocative dressing: Especially when I was in grade school, I wanted to wear off-the-shoulder shirts, short skirts, sexy underwear and high heels. I also started wearing eyeshadow, which my mother bought me for Christmas, at age 9! My mom and I have talked about that since then, and she said she thought I was going through a phase. Especially when you consider how even more sexual our culture has become, you must be very careful in how your children, especially girls, are 'sexed up'. It's not just the latest fashion, it's dangerous!!!

- Preoccupation with how sex works: I remember I would ask my mother an inordinate amount of questions about sex and the human body, and would even draw different pictures. In grade school I would steal condoms from my parents and take them as a 'show and tell' of sorts at slumber parties.

- Books and TV (and Internet): I read the V.C. Andrews books like Petals on the Wind and romance books. Watch what your kids check out from the library, and watch what you have on the TV. My dad loved "Solid Gold" and those dancers were nearly naked. He also had sex 'letter' magazines hidden in his underwear drawer which I read periodically. AND, please watch what your kids are doing on the Internet, what they're watching on YouTube. Never let your child have his/her computer in his/her bedroom, make sure it's in a public location in the house and that (s)he is always monitored. I have seen too many boys and girls in the library doing things and talking about things they've done that I've never even thought of as an adult.

If you have any questions, please let me know. You can email me outside of this blog at vpljan@hotmail.com .

I want to help other people identify signs so that if something has happened they can make sure it stops, and make sure the child gets the proper counseling. Now that it's been 32 years living like this, it's hard to change the way I am as a result of the molestations and all that happened after. I wish that it would never happen to another child again, but if it does, I pray that I can help them and you get through it. Don't ignore or deny anything. Which is worse, checking out something to make sure it hasn't happened, or living with the knowledge that you could have done something and didn't?

I think I will stop here instead of going on with the other things that have happened to me sexually and have gotten me where I am. It is important to really understand what molestation can do to a child, and how it builds and shapes who they become in so many ways. Don't smother your kids, but always keep an open dialogue with them so that they feel comfortable telling you everything. Run through their days with them, ask them who they were with, what they did, start as early as possible getting them to chatter on. Also, in talking to my counselor, she said that young kids have a hard time telling you what happened, but they can act out the entire thing, down to what was said, with puppets. Try it. Anything it takes to make sure your kids tell you what's going on is worth it.

I'm SO thankful that God protected me in so many situations. I'm sure some could say, "How can you believe in a 'loving' God if He would let something like this happen?" Well, God doesn't make things happen, He allows things to happen, and He has a plan. I want to help people, and maybe the way I can really help is by helping children and families who are victims of molestation, I don't know. I do know, however, that if I hadn't gone through it, I wouldn't have the perspective that I do.

"And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to His purpose." Romans 8:28

Maybe advocacy is my purpose, His purpose. I don't know the plan, but I'm willing and He's able.

God bless. :) Jan

Talking to God

I need to talk to God more. That is such an understatement!!!

Who else could I talk to that understands every pain and every situation in my life? Who has suffered more, done more, seen more, said more? Who else could I turn to that would actually want to hear every last thing I have to say?

Why is it that He's the last one I seem to turn to?

I have to admit I wish I was one of those people who could say, "You know, God told me this," or maybe, "You know, I know God wants me to that...." I know quite a few people that say this, and for awhile I was quite upset with God because I didn't 'hear' Him.

"God, why don't I hear You?"

He must laugh at us, shake His head at us, marvel at our denseness. I know He definitely must have quite a show when watching me! I can imagine Him sitting up in Heaven, and there's something about to be revealed to one of us and He elbows Michael and says, "Watch this, you're going to love this!" I bet He enjoys watching those moments.

But you know, I realized that God 'talks' to me through books and TV. That probably sounds dumb, but I believe it. Every time I need to hear something, I hear it from one of those sources. It never ceases to amaze me how I always hear what I need to hear. Whether it comes from Joyce Meyer, David Jeremiah, heck Dr. Phil, I always hear whatever I need to hear when I need to hear it. It surely makes me realize that in a world full of so many people and so much to tend to, God still remembers me and that makes me special! Hard to even wrap my brain around, but it's true!

I battle so much with feeling like I don't count, I don't matter, I don't make a difference in this world, I'm not important, I'm not special. I know that it stems from how my father treated me and how I saw myself through his eyes. The incredible lack of self-esteem I have and have had my entire life often fuels my depression. The last several weeks have found me wallowing in depression and self pity. I would probably still be there if Pablo hadn't gotten fed up with my doom and called me out on it. Truly, everything was...suck. This sucks, that sucks, everybody sucks, everything sucks, life sucks, I suck.... He had finally had enough and said pretty much hey, get a grip, you have lots to be thankful for, don't get bitter.

I surely felt bitter. I had to head back to WVU to see the same doctor who had put me on that Tramadol and whose office had never even called me back about it. Why? Because my PCP's office said they really didn't want to deal with it, and really didn't even have time to make the appointment! But I've raved about the medical establishment enough, so I'm not giving that any more time. Suffice it to say that I'd had enough medical crap and thought it sucked....

Anyway, all sorts of things were happening around me, and I was letting them pile on top of me instead of dealing with them as I could and looking to God for strength. I actually had three panic attacks last week, and I haven't had those in years! The enemy definitely had me where he wanted me--helpless from being petrified and completely without hope. The devil is not an idiot. He's so good at his job, he knows us so well, way better than we know ourselves. And unfortunately I let him win the last couple of weeks. Well, praise God above He had Pablo smack me in the head, and then sent Joyce Meyer and David Jeremiah to remind me how God works to help us get back from where we've been.

And I hated where I was--no one wants to be miserable and make the people around them miserable. I had just gotten so low that I was below the horizon and ready to about give myself up to misery. Uff, that's not fun, not a fun place to be, not a fun place to stay, and I don't know when you get that low if you have any strength to pull yourself out of it. I truly think that it takes someone else to say, "All right, that's enough, you have to come back to the light." I don't think I had that strength, and unfortunately the only other person I was really talking to besides Pablo was in the same boat I was in. Hard to keep yourself from drowning when another person is drowning beside of you and you keep grabbing onto each other. There's no help in that situation!

I truly want to help others battle these and other struggles. Whether the battle is depression, addiction--which by the way I lost another 1.4 pounds but I think I gained it all back plus more today. I had a day where all I wanted to do was eat. Luckily I don't have a lot of food around now that I can just scarf--gosh I wanted chocolate badly!!! But believe me, I did enough damage with high fiber bread and butter.... But the battle over these kinds of pressures is a difficult one, and one I know we can't handle alone.

I have been a solitary person most of my life. Since I was little--I think in part due to the molestations--I have kept things to myself or tried to figure out how to deal with them on my own. Pablo is the first person I ever really showed my real self to. And boy, it hasn't always been a pretty picture, that's for sure! But, I know what it's like to try to keep all the secrets, all of the battles, everything negative to oneself, and I know the outcome is never good. Even though I thought I was keeping the 'bad stuff' from Pablo over the last several weeks, I showed him the 'bad stuff' that was festering inside of me because of keeping it all in. We need to share our burdens, there's no shame in that, it's what makes us human--and that's not a bad thing!

An old friend wrote to me and said she's read some of my entries and always thought I was happy-go-lucky, and that she never had any idea what was really going on in my life. She was so right, as I did everything I could to make sure people wanted to be around me by being funny or seeming happy. In talking to my counselor I have come to realize that I have 'made' different masks to wear in dealing with people, all stemming from my interactions with my dad, mainly. I have an Entertainer mask that I wear a lot. Of course, the Happy Fat Girl is a pretty common image in the entertainment industry, and why is that? Because we're pretty common. Most of the women I know who have significant weight issues play the Happy Fat Girl role. It makes us pleasing to people who we do not want to consider us unacceptable, and as unacceptable as we feel to ourselves. If we can make someone happy, then maybe they can make us happy, too. Boy, I have a lot more to say about that when it comes to men, but I'll deal with that in another post sometime.

That happy mask is one that I had fairly well glued to my face until I met Pablo. I think he peeled it off...I surely didn't want him to see the real me. I'm so thankful that he did it, but it has been a painful process to try to heal what's underneath. And let me tell you, I'm not anywhere near ready to drop it! I don't know what I really look like underneath. It's weird to think I'm 35 years old and don't really know who I am. I know who I've tried to be, who I've pretended to be, but to let my mask down and just be me? I don't know who I really am, and I don't know how to drop the mask yet. More counseling needed....

Well, I don't know how I ended up here when I was talking about praying to God, but, I guess I needed to go through all of that. When I bring it all around it simply means one thing: I need to pray to God. Over the last couple of weeks I have been beating myself up for not changing, not being a better person, not thinking correctly, not having a good attitude. I was wondering what was wrong with me that I couldn't change. Well, Joyce Meyer was talking about change, and about how we try to change ourselves and others. She said only God can change people, we can't. What we can do, and should do, is do what we can do and pray for God to do those things we simply can't. Well, that was so good to hear because I keep trying to change myself and beat myself up because I don't change. I've been struggling so much with the battle and the worry that I won't ever change. What I haven't been doing is praying to God to change what I can't.

I pray all day long, whenever something comes to mind, but I haven't been very focused in my prayers. I know I need to talk to God and really be honest, and then He will change me in His time according to what I need, not what I think I need. I always beat myself up, too, wondering why I can't keep my mind focused on God and what I know I should do, but then, didn't the Apostle Paul wonder at why he seemed to be able to do the things he didn't want to do, but the things he knew he should do he didn't do? I know I often forget that even the heroes of the Bible were failures in living the life God calls us to. But none of us are perfect, and never will be. I don't know why I think I am the only one who should be and fails at it.

Anyway, bottom line is, I'm thankful for the life I have and I don't want to return to the self pity and depression mode I was in. I have so much that I don't deserve praise God, but then I have so much I need to give that I'm not doing, Lord please help me! I want to serve God but need to quit getting in the way of myself. I need to ask God for help, and ask others for help, because no one on this earth can do everything by themselves. And, if I truly want to change, then I need to seek God's help through prayer, and simply do that which I know to do.

God bless!

:) Jan

The Obsession of Appearance

I've been watching a makeover show and have been thinking about how crazy the world is over appearances.

I have a horrible self-image and really despise myself for how I look. I have always fought feeling incredibly ugly and disgusting because of my weight. I have so many deep-seeded personal issues over how I look, and really how I feel that others see me.

I truly wish I didn't put so much stock into how others view me, whether it be in terms of how I look or my personality. I guess it comes from my childhood, and in particular how my father treated me and how he made fun of me or lashed out when he was angry. I have recently started seeing a counselor in an effort to be free of so many issues that are holding me back from just being completely myself. I know that a lot of the reactions I have towards people or situations are a result of how my father treated me. He has been gone over 6 years now, but it has truly only been in the last year that I have begun to get over how much stock I put into what he thought of me. Even dead, he controlled how I dealt with life.

Again, I owe seeing these things to my best friend, Pablo. He is the only person who ever really called me out on things and made me see the truth. I'm sure other people may have thought about it, but nobody else said anything but him. Our relationship is truly special. I know I drive him crazy, and sometimes he really hurts me, but I believe that both of us are growing and trying to help each other become better people and to have a better relationship.

Anyway, my dad always made me feel that I was never good enough, never was smart enough, never could come up with whatever it was that he was looking for. I can say that through the years I based every other relationship I've had on the principals I learned from him: be what people want you to be; try to be invisible as much as possible; entertain in order to keep others happy and avoid making them angry at or disappointed in you; wait for people to tell you what to do--you won't do it right if you try to do it on your own and your ideas aren't really worth anything anyway; anytime you get into a situation in which someone is angry, just hunker down and take the abuse until they're through and then try to fix whatever's broken. There are many more things, but these are the most common ones that rear their ugly heads and make my relationships so difficult.

So with all of these thoughts in my head, with being overweight which my father and others ridiculed me for so much and made me feel ugly, with not having many relationships in my life with men, and with down-right feeling that I look ugly in almost every way--add to these that the world is so obsessed with beauty and that I in every way am opposite of the definition of beautiful--I doubt that I will ever think anything different. It truly makes my heart hurt. I want to feel beautiful, I want to feel wanted, I want to feel sexy and desirable, but I don't know how that could possibly ever happen.

I am trying to accept myself, though, and to try to make my heart beautiful. I'm hoping that it will be enough to be beautiful on the inside. I believe that it's possible, for a woman to be so beautiful on the inside that a man loves her for that. But, gosh, what hurts is that, even if that happened for me, he would still think I'm ugly. So, I guess even if it sounds selfish, I just want someone to think I'm beautiful. I'm afraid that makes me shallow.

But then, I just remembered a little boy that came up to me once at church and said, "You are so beautiful!" Oh, that made my heart soar! So, I guess, somebody has at least once thought I was beautiful, so that's good. I don't think I'll ever forget that day, and I know he meant it. I thank God He sent him to say it! Someday I hope I see that little guy again so I can thank him for his beautiful heart! But I just wish a man would say it to me and mean it, really mean it, you know?

One of the most hurtful things that people say to me--and I don't think that they even consider how it sounds--but they say, "You would be so pretty if you lost weight." Hmm, ok, well, thanks I guess. So, if I would be pretty if I lost weight, and right now I'm fat, then that means right now I'm ugly. Thank you for only deepening my self-loathing. If I didn't already think I was ugly, you surely sealed the deal. Thanks, I needed that!

I wish that this world was not driven by looks. I wish that what I look like didn't matter. I wish that how I look didn't completely shock and disgust me. I wish, I wish, I wish, but here I am. So, I am going to work on loving myself as I am, where I am, how I am, and pray that God will help me to truly see that I am beautiful in every way.

:) Jan