Stations of Life

I wrote this blog while I was going through some major changes in my life. I have continued to grow and change since, but I am keeping this here as a reminder of the part of me that I was willing to share with anyone willing to read it.

Thursday, August 31, 2006

Moving On

Stations of life.
When I chose that as a title, I was trying to make sense of the upheaval in my life. Looking for some kind of direction, some logic in my confusion.

Out of desperation, we found ourselves taking advantage of the graciousness of some new friends in order to find a safe place to live. Coming out of one hellish living situation from another awful experience, we needed a refuge. We needed to heal. I needed to heal. I needed to understand. To comprehend what God was doing in my life.

I had no one. We were alone. I was lonely.

I assumed that the safe haven we found would also be a place of healing and possibly regeneration for me. I hoped that the budding friendship that came with it would blossom into the genuine relationship that has always eluded me.

It was safe. It was a refuge. It was ... not home. It was someone else's home. It was their retreat. Although we paid for it each month, it did not belong to us, even temporarily. We were in limbo, not knowing what lay ahead. I wondered if we would find God's plan for us at all. I prayed and prayed. I ached. I cried. I sat. Alone.

Somehow in the midst of my wasteland, the friendship grew until one day, it stopped. An invisible wall. A look. A tone of voice. Basically, nothing. My status became acquaintance just shy of stranger. I attempted, but found the wall. Assuming the worst, I avoided. Welcome had disappeared.

Our refuge became a facade. Privacy seemed impossible. I retreated.
As always, I retreated. I hoped and waited. I internalized. The wall continued.

Opportunity arose. God has blessed and we have moved. Away from the station we were lost in. Away from the wall.

Still alone. Marvelling at the changes. Heart a little harder, but somehow never closed. Still waiting.

Someday someone will find my friendship more important than a building.

For now, I'm moving on.
Stations of Life is finished.
Thanks for reading. If you are even there.

Tuesday, July 18, 2006

Frivolous Fun

Found a fun IQ test from a friend's blog, so here are the results. Yes, I know, if I had gotten a really low score, I probably wouldn't be broadcasting it, but uh, well...it was fun. Mostly, I'm wondering what I got wrong, but it won't tell me. Where did that "below average" come from?






Your IQ Is 125



Your Logical Intelligence is Below Average


Your Verbal Intelligence is Genius


Your Mathematical Intelligence is Genius


Your General Knowledge is Above Average

Tuesday, March 21, 2006

Garden State

Tonight I watched the movie Garden State for like the umpteenth time. I don't own it, which is unusual. I just keep borrowing it from the library whenever it's available. I didn't think I would like it from the previews, but once I started watching it, I was riveted. Usually, I have movies on at night while I'm cleaning up, working on my business, doing field trip stuff, studying something, etc., etc. But I can't do that with this movie. I put it in with full intentions of doing something, anything else, and I find myself an hour and half later in the same position as when I put it in, fully focused on the movie.

It makes me think about myself. In the movie, this guy has to deal with something that happened when he was a child and how it has affected his whole life. Of course, that's not the plot; it's just something this character has as a running background for his life since he was 9 years old. You hear what happened and you think "wow. how could you live with that your whole life? that would be hard."

For me, I think about all the crap I went through as a kid. At one point in the movie, he tells his girl friend "There were some basic childhood experiences I missed out on. " and she says "There were some basic childhood experiences I wish I had missed out on."

I wish I had missed out on most of my childhood. I could have landed at 18 years old and I would have been much happier. Yes, it made me who I am, but I don't think it was necessary. I can't honestly believe it was God's plan that the boys in my neighborhood had their own stash of pornography and attempted to try out the things they saw and read about in those magazines on the neighborhood girls. I can't honestly believe it was God's plan for me that my cousin would be messed with by someone so that he in turn would mess with myself and my sister (among others) the whole time we were growing up. I don't think those games of strip poker when I was 8 years old were in God's plan.
I don't believe that God intended for every other child in my elementary school to tag me as the ugly, stupid yucky girl you didn't even want to stand next to in the lunch line. It wasn't his plan for them to make disgusted faces and yell nasty things at me just because I ended up in line next to them, or seated next to them, or happened to be going to the rest room at the same time that they were.
It wasn't God's plan for me to want nothing more than to be liked and accepted by people, to spend most of my growing years wishing and hoping that some guy would even look at me without gagging. Because I was so rejected, I couldn't get past it. It was my only hope and wish and it made me prey. (yes, with an 'e')

In the movie, the guy is medicated beyond feeling by his dad who is a psychiatrist so that he won't feel too guilty about what happened when he was a kid. He is 26 years old now, and he just wants to feel something.
I medicated myself, in a way. When I was about 11, I decided I wasn't going to cry anymore. I was so tired of it. I just quit.
And I didn't.
I didn't cry for like 6 years or so. I still hate to cry.
People go to these "chick flicks" and they want to cry. They're happy about it. About crying. I don't get it.

But as a teen, it was nice not to cry. I just tried not to feel things. It was much easier that way. Of course, that was when things started to get slightly better in my life. Well, around high school, it got a bit better. God gave me a couple of good friends, one really, and I didn't totally hate myself. most of the time.

I was a Christian the whole time. I've been saved since I was about 5 years old. It was obviously God who kept me from becoming a slut as a teen, or a drunk, or druggie. I could've been. It was God who kept me from killing myself. I tried, but not successfully, not even seriously. It wasn't what I really wanted.

People have never seen me for who I really am. No, I'm not those awful experiences I endured, but I've been there. I've been through that.
Most people meet me and think I was a typical Christian kid, whatever that is. I'm not that.

I am not whatever you think I am.

You don't know me. No one does.

Alright, God does, but He's not telling you.