Christianity

Nutcases, Pinterest, and Jesus

I want to write about my friends. I have a small group from church and I never imagined the friendship that would be created. I have many great girlfriends in the group and they have introduced me to whole new worlds.

They have broadened my faith in Jesus, expanded my musical tastes, and introduced me to beautiful new cultures. I hope I have done that for them in other ways. I hope that our friendship expands for years to come.

I have to admit that I am afraid. I am a person who is full of fear. I am scared that my friends will see something in me that makes them walk away. I'm afraid that this will end like the past ones. I fear that I won't have anything to give to them in our friendship like they have given to me.

As someone who is chronically ill, it is normal for me to not be reliable. But I want to be a person that they can come to, someone they want to come to. I want to impact their lives in positive ways. I want them to want me around. This is difficult for me to express. One day I won't struggle to tell them how I feel in person.

I love my Tuesday night nutcases. I love the women that have chosen to remain in my life. I wish them all the great things God has to offer. I wish for more 30 minute laughs. I wish for more inside jokes. I wish for more game nights. I wish for more chapters of my friend's book. I wish for more "drunk MM knows what she likes" moments. I wish for more Pinterest notifications. And I wish for more gluten free cookies and frosting! God willing, there will be more to come.

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Christianity, Chronic illness, poetry

I’m Just Fine (My First Rap)


People ask me “Why you don’t talk” all the time.

Well here’s your damn answer,

My body’s decaying, it’s breaking.

But no one gives two craps unless it’s cancer.

All I do stare up at ceilings

Trying to ignore the fact that my skin keeps peeling. Off

Damn Doctors, they insult me 

It’s all in my brain, they say.

Thanks Doc,

Slam the car door, mom asks those three words,

“How are you?”

My mouth is under padlock.

She just wants to hear that 

I’m still as strong not easy to knock.

Even if every words a lie.

[CHORUS]

I’m, just, fine.

I’ll be okay, I’m living a normal life.

It’s sad from time to time, but God is kind.

Don’t you worry about me, I’ll bloom on time,

I may have thorns in my sides, but I was made just right.

I have my eyes on the prize, it will just take some patience and Christ.

I’m, just, fine.

[CHORUS]

There’s not light, I look at the time. I have a realization,

The medication can’t stop the PTSD or depression, my silence is a confession, open your eyes and make a correction on how you see me before I make a stupid decision that will make you learn your lesson. 

See me. I’m weaker than you think, don’t blink, you might miss it. Terrified of the what if’s the worlds darkest screw it’s.

You tell me I can’t live this way, I’m lazy and I never move from where I lay. 

No really? you think I wanted this? What about all the things I miss? Really?

This is my body, not me. If pain wasn’t in the damn way I would runaway, stand in line just because this mother could, I would dance all night pretending this white girl was from the hood. Only if I could. 

You ask me with that fake voice, “Girl, How are you!?” 

And so the conversation goes…

[CHORUS]

I’m, just, fine.

I’ll be okay, I’m living a normal life.
It’s sad from time to time, but God is kind.
Don’t you worry about me, I’ll bloom on time,
I may have thorns in my sides, but I was made just right.
I have my eyes on the prize, it will just take some patience and Christ.
I’m, just, fine.
[CHORUS]
What should I say? You all ready know that the pain is chronic, that I have PTSD and I can’t love myself, that I dig so far into my body that bleed, it’s ironic.

Can’t be my own lover so I make myself uglier.

You know that. But say it out loud, you run faster then a freaking street rat. 

So I’m fine. Cuz it’s crime to check box other.

Mother always says to treat others how you want to be treated so I show compassion.

Even after you ask me that question in poor fashion. Because no should be alone.

Even if love was never shown. In the first place.

So I get another text, the same stupid question.

As if I could describe with the words in my possession. So I hold up a mirror and have them ask themselves. Thats all people have wanted since I was twelve.

And…

[CHORUS]

I’m, just, fine.

I’ll be okay, I’m living a normal life.
It’s sad from time to time, but God is kind.
Don’t you worry about me, I’ll bloom on time,
I may have thorns in my sides, but I was made just right.
I have my eyes on the prize, it will just take some patience and Christ.
I’m, just, fine.
[CHORUS]
If the pain would go, my heart could show, and all this loneliness would be just a memory. But just because that’s what it should be doesn’t mean it could be.

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Christianity

Let Him Go, Love God

tumblr_nvg0okceop1un115xo1_500Since I had the ability to remember, I knew I wanted a boyfriend. I knew that I wanted to do life with someone that I was in love with, and someone that was in love with me. As I grew up, it became an obsession. I could blame it on my Dad for not being a great dad and I could blame it on my sexual assault, but those things just made the problem worse.

Once I hit puberty, my search for love and affection went into overdrive. It constantly caused me to be depressed. I would search for something instant, knowing that it wouldn’t work, then I would be rejected. I didn’t handle the rejection well. I would go down this spiral of despair and tell myself that I wasn’t worth loving. Then my first long term boyfriend came along. It was thrilling but shortly after I knew that we were using each other for validation. To prove to ourselves that we could be loved and that we could love someone else. We used each other to feel better about ourselves because our lives sucked. You can imagine how that relationship unfolded.

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For me, It was him.

You don’t actually have to imagine because I’m going to tell you. He was never good enough and there was always some standard that I wanted him to live up to. Most of the standards were reasonable, for an adult male that was mature. He was younger then me and I was expecting him to be the man that he was still learning how to be. Once sex was introduced, we were doomed to fail. We never had sex but we did other sexual things to each other. We wanted to make each other happy because we knew deep down that that was the only way we could keep each other happy. Once you get a taste of something, you want more of it and then you have to go further. For two teenagers wildly enduring hormones, it was hard for us to stop. I remember one time when he went too far and I told him to stop twice. Since I had PTSD from my molestation, I had a panic attack when he wouldn’t get off of me and screamed. He jumped off of me and he was terrified. I didn’t know what to say. I also remember the day my mom walked in on us. We both agreed that we would stop fooling around. That lasted maybe a month, then I started it back up again. I had shame and guilt even before we were caught. I started it back up because I was afraid of loosing him.

 

We looked great on the outside. Everyone thought that we were cute, some tried to break us up. On the inside, however; our relationship was us hurting each other, saying sorry, and then doing something else that hurt the other person. I have abused him, he has abused me. Emotionally, Physically. I have slapped him and he has forced himself on top of me. We were good at faking our communication. He was great at not paying for anything, and I was great at nagging. We should have never been together but at the same time if I never dated him, I wouldn’t know what not to do now. I’m not saying that we didn’t have our good times but they are hard to remember over the explosion of a break up that we had.

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Nearing the start of my senior year, I started truly having faith in God. As that started happening, I was also starting to feel convicted of the choices I made and the relationship I chose to be in. I knew that I needed to break things off with him but I felt like I needed him. I was terrified of being alone and after all he was my best friend. So I waited to see if he would find God with me, and he didn’t. I was being pulled in by desire and lust. I needed to break up with him and I knew that if I did it in person, he would have changed my mind. So I called him, I told him that I couldn’t do this anymore. That the relationship wasn’t good for either of us. That God wanted me to move on and heal things that were there even before he came along. I couldn’t rely on him to make me feel whole anymore. He cried, I cried. We parted ways. Then I started freaking out at the realization that I had no one. So I text him and ask him to take me back. Not because I loved him, because I need him as my crutch. He then begins to tell me that I was a horrible girlfriend. He continued to tell me nasty things that he thought and his friends thought about me. I hear that, given the opportunity, he will tell others about how terrible I am and also about the things that we had done sexually together. Sometimes exaggerated.

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I have grown to ignore what others tell me about what he says. I know I am not whatever person I was in 2014. I will continue to grow and look to my future. I now can be alone with out the despair and the thirst that comes with single life. I don’t have to date the first, second, or third person who asks me out. I am sustained in my faith of the Lord instead of failing to fill myself with the love of a man. There is nothing that he or anyone else can do to change that. I am proud that I am being prepared for my next relationship. Even if my ex keeps intruding into my families life and my life, I know that I don’t have to let that destroy me. My past doesn’t have a hold on me anymore. I have a long journey ahead but I have a choice whether or not I will let my past will effect it or not.

This means that anyone who belongs to Christ has become a new person. The old life is gone; a new life has begun!

~2 Corinthians 5:17~

P.S.~ I want to thank my ex, if he is reading this, for helping one of my relatives move. We aren’t talking for a reason and you still helped out my family. Thank you for stepping up like that and putting whatever feelings you have for me aside to help out. I was not able to help due to my many illnesses, so thank you.

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