I want to share some about my own life - to take a break from analyzing life and just "relive" it. It is something that always brings me hope. And I guess I want it to do the same for you...
I have not always been who I am now; I haven't always had an open heart that I wear on my sleeves; I haven't always been caring and compassionate; I haven't always been emotional and sensitive. This vulnerability is something new to me.
I suppose I was a typical "Christian kid"; I grew up with parents who were God-fearing and we went to church every Sunday, had bible studies during the week, prayed before meals. My childhood was somewhat sheltered from "destructive" influences and I took "healthiness" for granted. I suppose I was 4 or 5 when I "became a Christian", said the prayer, etc, and moved on, never seriously questioning what it had meant to me.
And so I grew up...
But something was wrong. I went to church, went to bible studies, lived the life that looked right, but inside I was deteriorating. I was fighting something, but I could never define it; I was craving something, but never I knew what. And I was bitter. I don't know when I first noticed it - it came on slowly. It was dark and discouraging, and deep. It wasn't a mild resentment like what results when you don't get your way, it was a smothering veil that settled beneath my surface. I grew tired of church, I grew tired of God, I grew tired of believing, and I grew tired of life. I was stuck with this anger that I couldn't control - it wasn't rage, and I actually have a hard time calling it anger - it was more like extreme withdrawal or suppressed rage. And I d
couldn't find the root. I knew something was wrong, but I didn't know what. I prayed, I cried, I pleaded, but what came wasn't the answers I was looking for. I studied the bible, read every self-help book on anger, and listened to people tell me that I needed to not be selfish and to not expect my way. But I couldn't agree, I could sense that the root was elsewhere. And tried to find it, but couldn't.
And I withdrew. It didn't seem to have much to do with my anger, I didn't consider it a problem at all actually. I just thought that I was made that way. I aspired to be unemotional, unaffected by people, and to be like a machine - like Sherlock Holmes. I wanted to be pure driven by logic, untouchable by any "weakness" and unmoved by it. I refused to get "close" to people, and took no pains to avoid hurting them. I shut myself up so deep that no one could reach in. And I dared them to, because I knew that no matter how much they pitied me, that they didn't love me - and I would prove it by hurting them until they dropped me, turned and walked away. And in the bitter hurt of those moments I would laugh with pain, because I knew that it would end that way. I wanted to be someone who would discourage any sort of help, I wanted to scare people from trying to reach out to me, I wanted to push everyone so far away that no one would ever have hope of trying to touch me - and I did, as effectively as I could.
And my "aloneness" only caused me to recede further, every person I succeeded in "breaking" only made me withdraw further. I was digging a hole that could not be filled by another.
I never questioned whether the bible was absolute or not, I never doubted that God existed, and as far as my "beliefs" went - I could answer any theological question logically. I knew what I believed! It was all there - and that is what I wore on the outside. And as long as that is what people saw, I never sensed that they bothered to dig and see if I was okay inside. And if they did, it was to give themselves some "goodygoody" feeling that they had "helped" someone in need. And that hurt me more
I detested church, shunned Christians, avoided bible study - and yet cried to God still. Picturing Him as some unemotional Father that expected perfection from His children and expected them to come up with it. Can you picture an orphan? Throwing every effort into proving that he is worth being loved and accepted? And the rejection and hurt that he feels every time he fails? That was me. I would have given anything to be out of that snare, but I loved being in it. And the internal battle raged - it still does.
And I gave up, I gave up trying and accepted my reality. I was good at being all the people I was - I learned to cope with the pain in life, with the rejection. I was done with trying to find a better life. And I had unconsciously disguised myself from myself, so that I deceived myself and others effectively.
People hurt me, God hurt me, friends hurt me, family hurt me - I hurt me. And I detested myself for that sensitivity. But I knew I needed to survive so I had to cope. I refused myself emotions, I refused myself feeling, I refused myself sensitivity, I refused myself relationships, I refused, well, myself. I had manufactured different "craigs" for different situations to keep myself untouchable, I had knew how to treat people to avoid closeness. And if they "threatened" my heart (by reaching for it and caring for me) I was a good enough judge of people to find their most sensitive spot and I hit them there I knew that if I pushed everyone away, eventually they would all turn and walk away. And if they didn't make themselves vulnerable, but only approached me out of a desire for personal satisfaction at helping someone - I put on one of the manufactured personalities, the one that I sensed would convince them that I was healthy. So against the two types of people that approached me, I could hold my own. And of the two, the ones that threatened me the most were the former type, the ones that did approach me vulnerably and with genuine care, but the more threatened I felt the more "aggressively" I retaliated - I actually enjoyed hurting them enough to shut them up, just like me.
And I still grew up...
I don't suppose I want to explain anymore in this direction, I think it is understandable and I don't think I want to go any deeper. Suffice to say, it only got darker. But, I happened to be invited into a bible study, like many before, and despite not wanting to, also like many before, I attended. It was a study on Sonship, and it was less of a bible study and more of an internal reflection. And in answering the questions posed about myself I starter to reveal things about myself I had never realized. I continued to go to the study, and to answer the questions - alternately ignoring my own dysfunction and realizing it, dependent on what situation I was in. All of life was dark to me, I never had a climax - so to speak - I had dulled myself to every feeling, and I had done so some years before. But I know that I struggled over the course of the study, struggled with things that I had long since given up on - but honestly, most of the struggling was only at the study, and more with trying to "Leave the Bible at the Study" (so to speak). Anyways, sometime early spring (mid march, to be exact), after the study had been going for some months, there was an assignment given. It was to share with someone outside the study (and outside our "christian" circles) what it meant to us to be "Son's of God". I don't suppose that I was anything that I hadn't heard before - and I knew that I wasn't going to share with anybody, simply because it meant nothing to me. But I prayed that evening that of God wanted me to share with someone, He was going to have to let me know what it means - otherwise, no-go. By now I knew He wouldn't answer, but I prayed, maybe because I hadn't completely given up...And then fell asleep doubting God...
But God did answer.
I suppose I was a typical "Christian kid"; I grew up with parents who were God-fearing and we went to church every Sunday, had bible studies during the week, prayed before meals. My childhood was somewhat sheltered from "destructive" influences and I took "healthiness" for granted. I suppose I was 4 or 5 when I "became a Christian", said the prayer, etc, and moved on, never seriously questioning what it had meant to me.
And so I grew up...
But something was wrong. I went to church, went to bible studies, lived the life that looked right, but inside I was deteriorating. I was fighting something, but I could never define it; I was craving something, but never I knew what. And I was bitter. I don't know when I first noticed it - it came on slowly. It was dark and discouraging, and deep. It wasn't a mild resentment like what results when you don't get your way, it was a smothering veil that settled beneath my surface. I grew tired of church, I grew tired of God, I grew tired of believing, and I grew tired of life. I was stuck with this anger that I couldn't control - it wasn't rage, and I actually have a hard time calling it anger - it was more like extreme withdrawal or suppressed rage. And I d
couldn't find the root. I knew something was wrong, but I didn't know what. I prayed, I cried, I pleaded, but what came wasn't the answers I was looking for. I studied the bible, read every self-help book on anger, and listened to people tell me that I needed to not be selfish and to not expect my way. But I couldn't agree, I could sense that the root was elsewhere. And tried to find it, but couldn't.
And I withdrew. It didn't seem to have much to do with my anger, I didn't consider it a problem at all actually. I just thought that I was made that way. I aspired to be unemotional, unaffected by people, and to be like a machine - like Sherlock Holmes. I wanted to be pure driven by logic, untouchable by any "weakness" and unmoved by it. I refused to get "close" to people, and took no pains to avoid hurting them. I shut myself up so deep that no one could reach in. And I dared them to, because I knew that no matter how much they pitied me, that they didn't love me - and I would prove it by hurting them until they dropped me, turned and walked away. And in the bitter hurt of those moments I would laugh with pain, because I knew that it would end that way. I wanted to be someone who would discourage any sort of help, I wanted to scare people from trying to reach out to me, I wanted to push everyone so far away that no one would ever have hope of trying to touch me - and I did, as effectively as I could.
And my "aloneness" only caused me to recede further, every person I succeeded in "breaking" only made me withdraw further. I was digging a hole that could not be filled by another.
I never questioned whether the bible was absolute or not, I never doubted that God existed, and as far as my "beliefs" went - I could answer any theological question logically. I knew what I believed! It was all there - and that is what I wore on the outside. And as long as that is what people saw, I never sensed that they bothered to dig and see if I was okay inside. And if they did, it was to give themselves some "goodygoody" feeling that they had "helped" someone in need. And that hurt me more
I detested church, shunned Christians, avoided bible study - and yet cried to God still. Picturing Him as some unemotional Father that expected perfection from His children and expected them to come up with it. Can you picture an orphan? Throwing every effort into proving that he is worth being loved and accepted? And the rejection and hurt that he feels every time he fails? That was me. I would have given anything to be out of that snare, but I loved being in it. And the internal battle raged - it still does.
And I gave up, I gave up trying and accepted my reality. I was good at being all the people I was - I learned to cope with the pain in life, with the rejection. I was done with trying to find a better life. And I had unconsciously disguised myself from myself, so that I deceived myself and others effectively.
People hurt me, God hurt me, friends hurt me, family hurt me - I hurt me. And I detested myself for that sensitivity. But I knew I needed to survive so I had to cope. I refused myself emotions, I refused myself feeling, I refused myself sensitivity, I refused myself relationships, I refused, well, myself. I had manufactured different "craigs" for different situations to keep myself untouchable, I had knew how to treat people to avoid closeness. And if they "threatened" my heart (by reaching for it and caring for me) I was a good enough judge of people to find their most sensitive spot and I hit them there I knew that if I pushed everyone away, eventually they would all turn and walk away. And if they didn't make themselves vulnerable, but only approached me out of a desire for personal satisfaction at helping someone - I put on one of the manufactured personalities, the one that I sensed would convince them that I was healthy. So against the two types of people that approached me, I could hold my own. And of the two, the ones that threatened me the most were the former type, the ones that did approach me vulnerably and with genuine care, but the more threatened I felt the more "aggressively" I retaliated - I actually enjoyed hurting them enough to shut them up, just like me.
And I still grew up...
I don't suppose I want to explain anymore in this direction, I think it is understandable and I don't think I want to go any deeper. Suffice to say, it only got darker. But, I happened to be invited into a bible study, like many before, and despite not wanting to, also like many before, I attended. It was a study on Sonship, and it was less of a bible study and more of an internal reflection. And in answering the questions posed about myself I starter to reveal things about myself I had never realized. I continued to go to the study, and to answer the questions - alternately ignoring my own dysfunction and realizing it, dependent on what situation I was in. All of life was dark to me, I never had a climax - so to speak - I had dulled myself to every feeling, and I had done so some years before. But I know that I struggled over the course of the study, struggled with things that I had long since given up on - but honestly, most of the struggling was only at the study, and more with trying to "Leave the Bible at the Study" (so to speak). Anyways, sometime early spring (mid march, to be exact), after the study had been going for some months, there was an assignment given. It was to share with someone outside the study (and outside our "christian" circles) what it meant to us to be "Son's of God". I don't suppose that I was anything that I hadn't heard before - and I knew that I wasn't going to share with anybody, simply because it meant nothing to me. But I prayed that evening that of God wanted me to share with someone, He was going to have to let me know what it means - otherwise, no-go. By now I knew He wouldn't answer, but I prayed, maybe because I hadn't completely given up...And then fell asleep doubting God...
But God did answer.
And that will be another post...
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