Meet the Author's Author

Meet the Author's Author
Live for Jesus! That's what matters! That you see the light in me and come along! :)

Sunday, May 14, 2017

The Guilt I Carry

I had a breakdown this week, probably due to exhaustion.
It wasn't pretty.
Atul and I are working really hard right now to try and get our house within the time limits imposed by lenders and visas and money.
Love that last. It's a pain in the neck.
I walked from work on Tuesday evening to get a hug from my husband at his workplace (he was on night shift). As soon as he put his arms around me, I started crying - and didn't stop for an hour.
Then on and off for the next day.
Took a half sick day off work. Ugh.

Since my marriage, I haven't seen much of my friends. And even less and less, I've been drifting offline. Well, apart from playing Farmville or watching Netflix.
Part of me is guilty for abandoning people.
Part of me thinks I can't handle staying with people.
I had a dear friend once. Someone I adopted as a daughter. And a mutual friend betrayed her and me. When I had helped her get out of the mess, I drifted away because I was cracking and I didn't know how to help. And her life...well, it's totally screwed now. I blame myself for that.
I used to be there for people, all the time. Like, when I was a teen and first came online, I would run up to twenty chats a night. I helped people. I was there for them.
And then I failed.
And failed again.
And screwed up.
Then my 'family' let go of me because - I think - I was too messed up and people were scared to be around me.
I remember the night they told me they didn't want me to come back to the conference in the US because of the parents that were up in arms about me going and threatening not to send their kids if I came.
I didn't ask why. I ended the conversation because I was so pained, so bruised. It was only three months since I'd lost the love of my life and I couldn't handle. Still haven't asked why.
I remember the wracking tortured sob-screams in the bathroom and my mom hugging me so, so tight. She still hasn't forgiven them, I think, for how much they hurt me.

I fell asleep in the middle of the floor that night, in the living room, lights blazing. People walked around me and went to bed and I woke up, alone, in the middle of the night, lights still on. I guess they figured it was best to let me sleep and heal. Well...I woke up and - I don't know how, because half of my mind was perfectly rational, like it is when I'm in suicidal depression, and the other half was screwing - it told me I was an actual monster, that people knew and had known it all along, that I didn't know myself and couldn't remember when I was the monster and people were too kind to tell me but they all knew and that was why they were scared of me and pushed me away. I knew it wasn't true. Partly. But something in my head has been terrified of my mental illness and depression since that day, although I try - have and will again - to fight, stand up, and be the victor over this through Christ.

And then there's the time that I thought I knew who had backstabbed me to the people who kicked me out. I was walking to work - God alone knows how I handled a job and this at the same time, I couldn't have without His upholding Hand and mercy - and I knew, without the shadow of a doubt, I could kill the person who had hurt me if they were within my grasp. With no remorse.
...that terrified me too.

I don't know how to let go of that.
How to stop being scared of myself.
I'm no saint. I've tried to help and to handle, even when it's been the wrong way to handle. I've tried to do the right thing and screwed it up time and time again. God has been so patient and gentle with me. I have a f***ed up past, but God and my husband know and they love me. I am. So. Incredibly. Grateful for that.
Another reason I can't handle being online. Watching people I know and love turn and walk away from the God Who has always been there, Who I - and they - wouldn't be alive without. Claiming credit for victories He has given and mocking Him. Sometimes I'm glad some of them have unfriended me. Others who haven't - I don't know. It grieves and I pray, but I still can't handle the hurt.

The flashbacks are insane. I had one recently that was pleasant. That is so rare. Flashbacks from when I was a child to the pain of being told I wasn't wanted, I wasn't loved, the memories of my brother attacking me, my mom, sexual instances I don't want to remember - gosh, that was a bad time last June. I bumped into that guy at New St at the same time I learned the guy I'd loved was in a relationship and my mom's best friend passed away. Yikes.

My memory is shot through. I struggle to remember so much, probably because I keep trying to remember the past so I can use it in the future. I want to record it, so I can let go.

There's times when I forget birthdays. Anniversaries. Meet-ups. Chores I've been asked to do. Emails I've promised to send.

I have 30 unread texts, 1400+ unread emails, unread WhatsApps, unread Instagram messages.

It's so much easier to back away from it all.
To hide in a game with cute animal noises, wind in the trees, fruit falling, fishing, the sound of running water on my little farm...or to watch Reign and absorb myself in the only form of story and character left to me, since I don't write any more.
I'm so scared I'll drift away - and I do try to reach out sometimes and then drift away, because I'm scared. I don't know how to handle people right now. To keep talking. Reaching out. To handle connections.
But I'm a fighter.
With a story.
For a reason.
So I won't stay hiding forever.
Just...let me get through this rough patch...and the next...and get up again.
I'll get there.
Keep praying for me.

To the sweetheart who left this message for me this morning:
"Good morning. It's Mother's Day, here in the U.S., and I just wanted to thank you today for being a mentor to me during some of my most difficult times. ❤️"

I have no idea what to say. I feel I barely reach out and I'm just about holding on. I feel like I'm looking at myself and my failures all the time instead of reaching out and pointing you to the One Who is the reason I am still here.
And I'm sorry for my failures.
But thank you - so, so much - for blessing me and for letting me bless you - in whatever way God has used me in your life. <3 That means the world to me.

I'll leave you with a song. Hang in there.

In Him,
Still marching,