I firmly believe that the only reason anyone ever hurts someone else is because they have been hurt. It's a cycle of pain -- we all have brokenness, and our brokenness causes us to hurt others. For this reason, I think it disturbing that we lock people away (which causes them MORE brokenness) and don't do anything to heal them before releasing them into society again. It's treating the symptom, not the cause. I understand that it would be terribly costly to give them help, and that it would be unfair to all of the broken people who have not committed crimes and cannot afford help -- but at the same time, the most compassionate, giving, wise people are the ones who have been deeply broken, done hurtful things to themselves and others, and then been healed. If we truly worked on healing the broken, we would have an incredible resource of wise people to learn from.

We might not be able to afford counseling, at least at first, but we could help heal the broken by giving them the chance to serve. It is such a healing experience to give, and I think many broken people feel that they have nothing to give, and so do not experience this healing. When you give to someone, you are opening the doors of your heart -- then those same doors are open to receiving gratitude and love. For a person who has been rejected by society and placed into jail (or detention), feeling a positive connection with people is absolutely vital. Someone who feels they are going to continue being mistreated and distrusted is not going to take the risk of growing, of finding better ways to live, but someone who feels that there is at least a chance of them being loved and accepted just might be willing to take that risk. We need to show people in prison that they do have a chance of being a productive, accepted, loved member of society.



"Juvenile offenders start life over with a crochet hook"

These people have attempted murder, destroyed people's property, sold drugs, etc. But given the chance to create and to give to others, something changes in them. It's not perfect, of course, but it is a large improvement over the norm: once released, 85 percent stay out -- far up from the national average of 50 percent. The article describes one person's experience in particular: "To see his eyes well up with emotion about the smiles his blankets have brought a needy elderly man and a toddler in a day-care center is to witness genuine tenderness." That person, Branden, was in for attempted murder, and for the first year and a half of his time there refused to join the program. Now he has created more blankets than anyone else, and speaks with real hope about his future.

I hope that people take notice and use the power of giving to change the lives of all inmates, not just the young ones. I believe all people deserve that chance.

((note: I found this article through the Good News Network, a site that collects positive news from other publications. Anyone can submit, so if you regularly read the news, please submit any positive news you find! You can also add the site's feed on LJ: good_news_net))

LJ idol topic 4: "Current Events" ((feel free to vote here if you get something from this post))

Ben and I decided to go with cutting my hours and staying a cashier -- even though part of me wants the additional responsibility and money, I just don't think I could handle the stress of learning the ropes during the busiest time of the year. And I am totally burnt out. I feel dumb/weak/lazy for being burnt out on my job when Ben's is so much more demanding, in time and responsibility, and I feel like mine is EASY, what's wrong with me? But that is the way it is. I think part of it is that I genuinely give of myself, as much as I can, when I am working. I try to give a little positivity to every person, and it's become a habit that I don't want to break, but it's draining. Cutting hours should help that a lot.

And I think the other reason I'm burnt out is that I've gotten past my healing-waiting period and it's time to go back to counseling, delve into the next layer. Things are starting to come up again -- I think my dreams are a symptom of that. I've been thinking about it for months and actually contacted the office about a month ago, but the lady who was sponsoring me (God/dess bless her) has moved and is no longer sponsoring people. So when I go back I'll have to pay... and they'll probably help some, but eeshk it's yet another expense -- it may have to wait until Ben goes into the management training program in a few months.

I've been feeling things shift within me and realign, it's very odd. Yesterday I prayed in a way I haven't for... at least a year. I dropped all my questions and stepped out into air... I didn't even know that was possible. I've been trying to reach around my questions and find the Being that I know, the one who loves me, the only reason I survived my otherwise empty childhood. I used to be able to reach right out and feel Hir heart, with little effort. S/he was right there! I think I need to go back and reread my old journals and poems, see those paths that I somehow lost, and learn how to find similar ones now. I needed to leave them in order to work on my questions, in order to break off all the lies that had nearly strangled my love for Hir -- the lies that S/he is vengeful, harshly judgemental, distant, demanding, uncaring, all-powerful but unwilling to make any effort to protect me... all the things I saw my parents as.

I had a dream about Hir way back in January... so real, so sacred to me that I posted it privately -- I didn't understand it at the time but it gave me the deepest, most loving peace I have ever experienced. I'm still very insecure in my new vision of Hir as a genderless Being, so that post will probably stay private until I have a clearer belief. I have felt new energy just sensing this beginning. ♥

...Secret by The Benjamin Gate...
oh hold me and heal me
keep my heart in your hands

I haven't been posting much about my counseling sessions, because we have a confidentiality agreement in the support group and not much has been happening in my sessions with Patricia. It's not wasted time -- but it's not very productive either. We've been on a sort of plateau for a while now, for ( several reasons: )

So, last session, she told me that she wants to stop having sessions with me, at least for a while. And I had to agree that that was probably the right thing to do. She suggested that Ben and I meet with Richard and Virginia for couples counseling instead -- but I really don't like the mindset Virginia has about how wives should be. She's never rude or outwardly judgemental, but I get a very judgemental vibe from her sometimes. So I don't want to do that.

But I met with Lisa (another counselor in the same practice) for a theophostic session this week, and it was amazing. Actually it was far beyond amazing, but I can't think of a word emphatic enough. It was... deeply soul-cleansing.

I should explain what 'theophostic' is. The easiest explanation is that it's the Christian version of hypnotherapy -- instead of a human leading you into your subconscious, God does, with your full consent. Basically the counselor and I pray together, and then we ask God to take me to a memory that he wants to work with and heal. And he does.

( warning: some of this may be triggering for sexual abuse victims )

I began to feel an immense peace and a sweet lightness. I felt as if I was floating weightlessly, wrapped in a blanket of warm water. I felt this physically as well as with my spirit, and Lisa encouraged me to just rest in it. I saw God holding me in his lap, with my knees folded to my chest and his arms encircling me completely. I felt God's love, felt his presence! I don't think you can understand how amazing it is unless #1, you've experienced it and #2, physical affection means as much to you as it does to me. That's one of the reasons I've always had a hard time believing God loves me -- I need physical touch to feel loved.

I've felt it twice before. The first time was when I was on the brink of suicide because I could not climb out of the 'black hole of woe' that I lived in every day. That was shortly after I had begun to seek a friendship with God... it was by far my favorite experience. It felt like a waterfall of warm honey was flowing slowly over me, through me -- on the surface of my skin and in the core of my spirit. It meant so much to me, and that experience alone kept me going for a long time. The second was just a few months ago at church -- I was worshipping and I felt his presence, dancing with me. He was standing behind me with his arms wrapped around me. I tested it to see if I was just imagining it -- I switched rhythms and felt resistance, because he didn't change rhythms with me, so I delightedly went back, and danced with him.

Anyway, this time I sat there in pure comfort for I don't know how long, before slowly opening my eyes to look at Lisa, who was smiling at me. She told me to close my eyes again and ask God what he wanted me to know about that experience. So I did -- and he told me that I could feel his presence anytime I wanted, which confused me because I know I have wanted it many times and not had it. So I asked how, and he told me to take authority. I repeated this to Lisa, who told me to ask if there was more, so I did -- and he brought a verse of Psalms to my mind, "Enter into his presence with thanksgiving, and into his courts with praise." Lisa told me to ask again if there was more, and he told me to empty my mind -- not to pray for people or read the bible or pour out my heart, but just think about him and invite his presence (that other stuff is separate, at least at this point).

Then Lisa prayed a sealing prayer, and we hugged and I left. Exhausted, but peaceful and still light. So incredible.

Last sunday, I had a 'relapse' of sorts, emotionally and spiritually. This is what was going on inside me. It wore me out to the point where I called in the next day and didn't go to work... slept all day instead.

Then Tuesday I went to group counseling, and I happened to be last to speak. I poured out my heart, basically saying all I had said in that post. There was silence for a few moments, and then my counselor began to talk to me. She got very heated, telling me that I should give up self-pity and make the choice to trust God... she said it differently but that was the gist of it. Some of the other women got uncomfortable with her directness (she was rather irate) and defended me, and she toned herself down a bit but didn't change what she was saying.

Meanwhile, my inner cobra was flaring her hood. I was furious. I held up my hand, palm toward her, and said, "I reject your judgement. That does not fall on me." I know the inner workings of me better than anyone except God, and I know that self-pity has not been a battle I've had to fight. I can't stand the role of the victim, and I certainly wouldn't wallow in it.

As she 'accused' and I 'defended,' I found myself growing stronger and stronger. I had had those doubts about myself, and as she caused me to face them head on, I realized how untrue they were. As I explained myself to her, I began to believe in myself more.

I know I have never stopped believing in God. I have never taken the easy way out! It's far, far easier simply to put aside these torturous questions and accept what someone else tells you is true -- but I refuse to do that. That's not always 'faith' -- sometimes it's just laziness, or a lack of passion -- or even fear of the answer. I believe that God is truth, and I believe that he is big enough to handle all my questions and pain and fear. I don't need to drop my questions; I need to seek the answer and be willing to accept it when I get it. No, I don't trust that God loves me, not right now, as much as I'd like to -- but some part of me must, because I still believe with my whole self that he IS Love, that he loves every human, and that he works in people's lives in response to my prayers. I've seen it, over and over again.

I don't know what it will take to get me to where I can believe that God loves me personally, deeply, fully, passionately, unreservedly, unconditionally...

... but I know I will get there.

At the end of the meeting, we all prayed together, including a specific prayer that God would give me the answer and that I'd be able to accept it, and then as people started getting up, my counselor apologized for being harsh, and I forgave her. And I asked for everyone's attention, and said that I could understand how they might feel upset with my counselor -- I would have been very upset had it been someone else she was scolding -- but that I believe that she was doing what God wanted her to. The result in my heart was positive -- not the result she was pushing for at all, but exactly the right result. I said that I thought her methods might have been somewhat questionable, but she was following God. After I finished my little speech, my counselor and I hugged, and I totally let go of any negative emotions I might have had toward her. I know she did that because she feels a little like a mother to me, and because she very passionately wants the best for me. There wasn't an unclean motive in her heart. (and I know she'd NEVER have gone off on anyone else like that, she was so completely honest; I kinda take it as a compliment) Another of the counselors came up to me and hugged me and thanked me for saying that, which filled me with the certainty that I had done the right thing. Hopefully it soothed any worried hearts.

I just finished my 'homework' for small group counseling tomorrow, and I feel so drained. It's so hard to face... especially with me not knowing what really happened! At least, not knowing most of it.

Trust is the hardest thing to do when you've had someone violently destroy your most sacred self. I shake my head and think, no wonder I've always found trust a nearly impossible task. Even squeezing out just a drop is an exhausting process. I've learned to do it with most women fairly easily, but with males and authority figures (even worse, the two combined) I have made scarcely any progress at all. I trust Ben more than I've ever trusted a man -- but I hold back so much, stuff that I don't even realize.

I'm so full of rage. It saps my energy... when I finally let it out, what else is left?

counseling was horrible... I want to write but I don't have the words...

and it ended badly -- we had to end without closing any of the issues that were brought up, and I was angry and hurt -- I didn't hug her back when she hugged me bye and when she waved I just looked at her. I think I may have hurt her, I don't know. And yeah, I was angry at her, not just in general.

I was at least two different people -- one very angry and bold and strong and the other just a limp blob of pain. This was the first time I've ever actually felt the difference in my selves -- it wasn't just moodiness, it was a whole different person. And then there was the self that just watched, that self that I hate.

I need to be allowed to be weak, to mourn, to believe that I was wronged and I have a right to feel pain. Of course I don't want to stay mourning forever, but I cannot just skip that step... as it seems everyone wants me to do.

I have been in such a place of confidence and clarity (compared to my life before, anyway) for weeks, and to be plunged into confusion and frustration again is overwhelming. Since counseling, I've been exhausted and my body is reacting to my spirit -- I've felt nauseated and aching.

Oh yeah, and right after counseling I went and spent time with my dad, who was in town for the weekend. It's almost funny. It wasn't a bad time, exactly, just fraught with the usual feelings of frustration, disappointment, tension, and exhaustion.

I thought I would share my daily prayer/mantra for taking authority. It probably won't affect your life if you don't put your faith in Jesus, but for the Christians on my list, you should definitely try saying it out loud every day for a week -- it had such a powerful effect on my life. It wiped out so much of my confusion and frustration. And even if you don't put your faith in God, maybe you could try it -- I'm just curious to see if it would have any effect.

Basically, when we give our lives to Jesus, he gives us authority over ourselves ("For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind" -- 2 Timothy 1:7; "I have given you authority to trample on snakes and scorpions and to overcome all the power of the enemy; nothing will harm you" --Luke 10:19). But learning to use that authority is never instant, and many people don't understand that and so they never seek to grow. It's even harder for people like me who have been through something traumatic. Our instinct is to separate from the pain and split ourselves into pieces, some of which we are aware of and some of which we are not -- some of which love God and some of which do not! That's how we survive, but it was never meant to be a permanent state. Anyway, for a long time my most broken pieces were the ones who controlled me, but as I have begun taking authority, my sheltered good pieces have risen up and begun healing, begun taking over. My confusion is so much less -- I no longer feel like I have static in my head whenever I try to quiet my thoughts. My fear is less; I don't have as much of a problem with flashbacks during sex; I'm not so afraid of people's disapproval... I'm coming into who I was always meant to be. And I think the primary reason for that was learning to take authority.

( so here's what I say )

Patricia actually gave me a simpler version, but I didn't want any part of my being left out, and I tend to believe that there are more than three parts to a person (I think the Ancient Egyptians were probably closer to correct in their belief of nine parts to a being, but I don't know what to call the other four possible parts), so I added bits. After I started taking authority over my body, I saw a huge difference in my dancing. Not that it's that great now, but compared to before it is amazing. I went from hopeless to actually learning.

Kristy was in town for a few days... Tuesday night we went skinnydipping, which was fun but would have been heavenly if it hadn't been for the fact that I was Unhappy with her. I don't really want to go into it, but basically I wasn't happy because she didn't treat me like family and she wouldn't be real (and I didn't even try to coax her, so no fault to me). I love her but I just can't connect with someone who has their heart locked in an iron box, and if I can't connect, what is the point? I had to fight with myself to even go skinnydipping with her, and that is one of my top four favorite things to do.

But yes, the skinnydipping was fun anyway. Rebecca kept her swimsuit on, but that's to be expected (silly modest girl). It was about 10:00, I think, so it was dark but not very, and we were swimming in the neighborhood pool (it's a lot more fun to skinnydip in a private pool, because then you don't have to worry about getting arrested). But oh, the feeling of freedom! There's nothing like it. If I had my own pool, I'd be so fit, because I'd do swim for at least an hour every night. *sigh*

Maybe I'll be able to convince Rebecca to go with me a couple more times this summer.

--------

I went to the first class in the restoration series (a group counseling thing for sexual abuse survivors), and I had a reaction that I totally didn't expect. I always look forward to my counseling sessions, but when I got to the class, I didn't want to be there at ALL. I felt raw and angry and confused. I wanted to go smash stuff to bits while screaming my head off. After the speaker finished, I just sat there (because our small groups won't be meeting until next week) and stewed. I felt rather nauseated and overwhelmed... so many emotions that I totally wasn't prepared for. They gave us a survey so that they could sort us into groups that have common ground, and when I was finished with the survey I just started writing, just pouring my feeling onto paper. Wonder what they'll think of that. Afterwards I went up to Patricia, who hugged me and asked me what I thought... and I talked to her a bit and suddenly got overwhelmed and started crying, hurting and not knowing why. So she prayed with me and I asked God why, and he showed me that I was hurting with loneliness -- that with my usual counseling it feels like we are working together for my healing, but in this setting it feels like I'm fighting a huge battle alone.

Patricia prayed with me... and then she felt led to give me a mother's blessing, and asked if she could, I stalled and she just hugged me and started blessing me. Unfortunately I wasn't paying attention, because my brain was still overwhelmed and I wasn't sure how I felt about that anyway... bah. I was very confused. But it soothed my spirit at least, I felt peace afterwards.

I'm feeling a bit better today because I ( wrote to Patricia ) and she ( wrote me back )

And no, I didn't go to bellydancing because I just didn't feel up to it... and I kinda wanted to but I had a hard time even getting out of bed, and I didn't want to push my body for 1.5 hours... lazy. And now of course I'm having second thoughts about it... when it's too LATE. What do you motivate yourself with when you can't see a goal? I'm disillusioned.

I was doing so well for a while, and now I'm sleeping for 10-14 hours a day and feeling drowsy for my waking time. I want to scream and flail about and kill and die. What is WRONG with me? Hm. I just remembered that I have been forgetting to take authority... and I think it also has something to do with Ben, but I'm not sure what.

*huge sigh*

my next counseling appointment isn't until July 9th. I'm very upset/discouraged/depressed... I can't even express. When will this end

Counseling this week was powerful, in a way that made me very uncomfortable. One of those "truths that you don't want to see" type things. So of course, I've been putting off writing it down... Bah.

I realized that I have idolized my intellect, used it as my identity and my protection. ( ... )

I don't know what to do. Patricia and I prayed, and I gave my intellect to God, but I'm still not sure what that means and it is making me very nervous. I don't want to have anything be more important to me than God, and I certainly don't want to continue to be trapped by fear of stupidity, but I'm just not sure how to change. Patricia was confident that God would show/tell me.

Saturday was exhausting... I'm still recovering from it. I got up early, went to counseling, then to bellydance, then came home and had sex, then went to church, and then went out with Del and Joe... And amazingly, I didn't lose energy until about 1 am.

So, this time at counseling, we realized that I had never broken soul ties with my perpetrators. I should explain that. I believe that every time you have sexual activity with someone, there is at least a small amount of transference, and a bond of some sort is formed. And that happens regardless of how meaningless the sex is... So basically, parts of my soul were wandering around with those people who molested/raped/whatevered me. So we prayed over it, and she took authority and broke the soul ties, and then prayed that God would gather those parts of me and bring them back to make me whole. I immediately felt lighter. It amazes me that we didn't do that a long time ago... it's such a basic step. I'm very glad that I'm no longer connected with those people, I feel like those connections had held me back many times... It was a short session, only 45 minutes or so (instead of the usual 90-120 minutes), but she felt God saying that was the point of the session, so we wrapped it up.

Before we left, I showed her my jewelry site on the computer in the office, and she oohed and ahhed, but she was at least as impressed with my html skills as my jewelry -- I wasn't sure whether to be flattered or miffed. ;-) (I chose to be flattered.)

She usually gives me a ride to bellydancing, but since it was a short session, she decided to go get lunch, and she asked if she could get me something -- she bought me lunch and a starbucks frapp, yummmmy. I always feel guilty though, accepting gifts like that. I wish I could just believe that the person offering is doing it sincerely, and accept it with ease.

On our way there, I asked Patricia how she got into dancing, and she told me that she had loved dancing ever since she was a little kid and she saw her first dancer -- a stripper at a burlesque show. The way she told that story convinced me that she would not have a problem with nude modeling and would quite likely be supportive. I didn't have the opportunity to talk to her about it yet, but I have definitely decided to.

( at bellydancing )

( sex )

( out with Del and Joe )

Yay! God so loves me -- I just got an email saying that Patricia's appointment Saturday cancelled, would I like to come in? Hell yeah!

I've been debating on whether or not to tell Patricia about my modeling and my journal, so I'm asking you guys for your thoughts. See, she's not at all Miss Prissy Fundamentalist -- she's been a bellydancer for 20 years, 15 professional; she's not one bit uncomfortable talking about sex; she uses 'vulgar' words without blushing or apologizing; and she just has a very open mind, from what I can tell. Still, she is around 50, and she might have hangups...

I feel that God is pleased with and proud of the openness of my modeling and journalling... but my belief in his joy in me is fragile, and if someone I very much respected as godly were to tell me that they think it's wrong/bad/whatever, it would give me doubt in God's support of me. (that is a temporary thing caused by my brokenness -- when I am healed, my faith won't be so weak)

Pros:
I would feel more myself, because I'd be open and honest with her. Right now I feel a little dishonest.
If she approves, I will feel so much more confident of God's approval.
If I feel more confident of His approval, I will feel more free to be honest and open with everyone, even Ben's parents and fundamentalist types.

Cons:
Tolerance is not enough. If she were to say it's okay, just borderline, then I'd doubt that God thinks it's beautiful, and that would be tragic to me.
If she disapproves, I'll lose a lot of confidence, for a while at least.
If she tried to talk me out of it, then I wouldn't trust her with anything that I consider possibly 'bad,' for a while at least, and that would make it difficult for me to learn from her.

[Poll #489005]

So Saturday I had counseling for the first time in three weeks that felt like two months. Blech.

I came in, told her all about what had happened the previous Saturday with meeting the lady at church and forgiving everybody, and then Rebecca and I forgiving each other... and she told me that God had told her that if I came in talking about forgiveness, to lead me step-by-step through a thorough forgiveness prayer, so we did that. It was a little emotional at times, but it didn't really faze me, and I didn't feel any different. She said she could see a difference in me already, and later Ben told me the same thing... mainly she said I have to walk it out, everyday refuse to pick up anger, resentment, all that shit.

I still don't feel different -- but for the past two days I've been able to go to sleep when Ben does and get up at 6:00am in the morning without a struggle. If you know me at all you know that is huge -- my whole life, even when I am happy I have a very hard time getting up before 10:00am. I don't know if this will stick, but it is a good change to not feel like sleeping from 7am to 7pm and then get up and want to take naps! I feel more alive.

I'm not happy that my next session is so far away -- the 21st. But I don't feel so much like I am wasting my life, because I'm not sleeping or drowsy all the time... and Patricia gave me some titles to look up to help me grow in the meantime. And starting June 14th there's going to be a restoration series held at the church that I will hopefully be able to go to... it's $125 but my 'scholarship' might cover it.

Oh yeah, I don't think I've said this before -- I'm going to counseling for free because one of the ladies at my church considers it her ministry to pay for other people's counseling; God points out people to her and she offers to pay for them. God was really taking care of Ben and I, because she gave us counseling for our wedding present, and we had to have it. I don't care to think about what we'd have done without it. We had couples counseling for about six months, and since then it's been just me. Ben had amazing parents and one of those families that you think went extinct 100 years ago -- they have a few small problems, but nothing like any other family I've seen. So he didn't need that much help. Me, on the other hand... I am so incredibly grateful to God for leading that lady to us (we don't even know her personally, she knew Ben's mom) and so grateful to that lady for following Him.

so, I've been lousy at comments lately, sorry. I'll try to go back and respond some tomorrow...

Friday was my last day at work, but I don't feel like I've actually quit yet... Yvonne asked why I was quitting, and I explained, and she told me that she was also abused as a child... (this is everywhere, a widespread devestating disease that no one ever talks about. WHY?) She was very kind, she stayed and talked to me for a while until I got a steady flow of customers again. She also has been totally healed, she was able to sit through a thanksgiving dinner with her abuser (a relative) without fear or anxiety or anger... I have even more hope now that I know two people have been totally healed.

I had counseling Saturday, it was very very stressful. I don't feel like it was progress, but at the same time I do -- I was more open than before, I almost felt trusting enough to tell her about my modeling and my journal -- I feel sure she would approve, but that 5% doubt is enough to make me want to keep it from her. She's no 'religious' person, just someone who loves and follows God, but everybody has their hangups and her opinion matters a lot to me, to use drastic understatement, so I'm afraid to tell her. I feel like God thinks that both my modeling and my journal are fascinating and wonderful, but again, I have slight doubt, and I'm afraid to ask him, afraid to ask anyone who represents his voice in my life.

I think my heart is slowly pulling away from Paula and Spencer. ( ... )

And of course, we talked about forgiving my dad. She told me that a wound that deep is too much for us to forgive on our own, that I have to let God do it through me, with me... it's too much for me to understand, right now. She said it is simple, just that simple, a one-time decision, but hard to do. I want to forgive him, just so I can be free from all the pain my unforgiveness is causing me, but at the same time I don't want to forgive him, because in many ways he thinks he's just fine and I don't want to support that belief in any way... I'm very bitter when it comes to him, I've faced that and it's true. I don't like being bitter and untrusting when it comes to authority figures. But she forgave her perpetrator, and I'm 99.99% sure that my dad never touched me in any impure way (he was always very careful and cautious about NOT doing so), so don't I have it easy in comparison? I'm not even forgiving my abusers yet, whoever they are. Why is it SO HARD to forgive him? I think partly because I don't feel like my pain has been validated, I feel like I can't forgive something if I'm not even sure if it's wrong or not, and of course my parents would tell me that I'm overreacting and that I'm imagining things. But I want to get it over with. Yet I want someone to say, "that's terrible, I understand why you are so hurt, that was wrong." There are so many many things... mostly just how he treated me like less than a human. And told me repeatedly that my feelings and thoughts didn't matter, "I don't care how you feel" -- that exact phrase, many times. And now he wonders why I don't want to talk to him.

"Where do I take this pain of mine
I run, but it stays right by my side
So tear me open, pour me out
There's things inside that scream and shout

So tear me open, but beware
The there's things inside without a care
And the dirt still stains me
So wash me, 'till I'm clean...."

When I said that my day (saturday) was life-changing, I meant it, I wasn't being flippant. Okay, long day, lots of spirit changes -- first at counseling, then bellydancing, then church.

At counseling, Patricia and I started by picking apart the dream that I had after the last session, about three different houses, the open, breezy, beautiful one where I was naked and open and utterly content in my hispanic family; the house I lived in with my parents where ALL the memories pretend to be, even if they happened at a different time; and the skeleton of a house with an evil foundation. ( ... ) She explained that not all the parts of me want what I want. Some parts hate the fact that I didn't die (and still want to die), some parts hate God, some parts refuse to enjoy life, etc. And she said that God has given me authority over all parts of me, and I need to take authority and use it. So she gave me a thing to say, not a prayer or a mantra but similar, where I take authority over all parts of me and command the parts that don't know God to be silent and not interfere in my life. It's not a permanent solution, just something to keep me from warring against myself until I am one person. I said it, you know, but I didn't expect much of a result.

We also talked about my wish for parents ( ... )

Then I went to bellydancing, and oh-my-gosh. There was such a huge difference in my body's ability to connect with my spirit/mind. I mean, last time was horrible, I could see and comprehend but could not do. And part of it was this time I gave myself permission to fail, permission to not do it perfectly the first time -- but the huge difference was because of taking authority over myself. There was part of me that interfered with everything I did, and that part was forced to be quiet and stop blocking my dance. This time I danced in the in-between times, totally not caring if I was doing it wrong or if the other girls were looking. My body, my spirit, was so much more free, so much more alive.

And after that I went to church, and PJ gave an awesome sermon -- my favorite part was when he validated my feelings and current goal in life -- transparency. He said, point-blank, that transparency is something we should all strive for. That privacy is not something we should strive to protect. I was so excited, I clapped and cheered (no, I ain't kidding -- in my church nobody turns and looks at you funny if you do stuff like that). I think I was the only one thrilled with that declaration, though. Even the other "high I's" (extroverted hyper personality type) just kinda took it in -- but then I wasn't really paying attention to everyone else, so maybe some others were excited too. I'm so sick of the religious mindset that we're all supposed to hide most of ourselves and only share the 10% that we think others will consider 'worthy.' I'm delighted with PJ for saying otherwise.

I am strong, I am beautiful, I am true.

I had counseling this morning, and it didn't seem like we went that deep. Mainly because she's not sure that I am committed to getting healed (because of all the pain that comes with opening that stuff) and she's not going to push me. Yet when I got home and relaxed, I suddenly felt like my heart was breaking, and I cried and cried and cried because I felt... used. And Ben comforted me, but that was hard for me to accept because he's a man, and I really can't trust men right now. So I had two battles going on -- the struggle between accepting or shoving down the pain, and the struggle between accepting Ben's love or pushing him away. I actually won both battles though, now that I think about it. But good grief, every touch scared me, and the only place that he could touch me without me freaking out was my back. And at the same time I wanted the comfort of sex, only a little bit though. Good grief, the pain felt like I was being... abused. Like it was happening. But there were no thoughts with it, just the feeling. I couldn't get in a safe position either, didn't feel safe on my back or my tummy. But Ben was so careful. And I'm proud of myself for not shoving him away. I know I need to trust him, even though it's hard, and I know he's trustworthy.

I used to be ashamed to cry. I'm still kinda ashamed to admit it here, in front of other people. I feel like it's weak, like I'm going to be judged as a wimp who can't handle life. But that is a LIE taught to me by people who didn't want to deal with the guilt and discomfort of me being unhappy; they wanted me to stifle my feelings so that they could feel like everything was fine. Crying is just as natural as laughter, dammit, and it is necessary for processing pain. I refuse to believe that it's weak; I choose to believe that it is a honest expression and worthy of as much honor as any other display of emotion. (of course, crying for reasons other than strong emotion is different)

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Ashley and Kevin (a maybe-to-be-catholic and a born-catholic) went to my (very non-denominational) church today ( ... )

While at church, I had Spencer and Paula pray for me about this counseling stuff, and they both prayed passionately, and I felt their love. It was healing for me, I rested in it and felt stronger. And I feel sure that Spencer (at least, probably Paula too, but she's very busy and kinda forgetful) will continue to pray for me, and that is encouraging. Oh, and one of those little things that delights me -- I hugged Paula when I saw her today, and she said, "Hey! I missed you last week!" and I knew that she was referring to when I tried to catch her attention but she was preoccupied -- Spencer saw though, and he must have told her.

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PS. WHERE THE HELL DID flyupward GO?
PPS. If you haven't, please fill out my would-you-listen-to-an-entire-mix-CD-of-my-favorite-bands poll and my necklace design poll. It'll only take you a few minutes and a couple of clicks and it would make me very happy.

I went to counseling with Patricia this morning, and we didn't get specific this time either; just addressed the issue as a whole (by the way, she's so wonderful. She actually did her homework and read my entire file, and she wants to read my life story). I got very angry and afraid, was so emotional that I was shivering.

She told me that God showed her that I had built a wall around myself, and I could no longer see out. When I thought I was looking at God, I was looking at my own reflection in the wall, and essentially I had become my own god. So since I didn't have any love for myself, I saw God as having no love for me. After she said that I realized that when I was counseling with John, I was bringing up all these woundings that I had no clue how to handle, so I built a wall around myself -- the same wall that I wore from 4th to 10th grade, which God and I tore down together 5.5 years ago. Now it's back, and stronger than before, but this time it's between me and God instead of me and people. And I have to go through the dismantling again. And I have to trust and believe to even begin. Yet her seeing that gave me hope -- because I had proof of a sort that it wasn't that God didn't love me, but that I was blocking out his love. And I felt the truth in it.

Far more frightening, I realized that I had become convinced that God wanted me to go through what I went through, because deep down I believe that he doesn't care how I feel, but merely how he can use me to get his work done (because duh, that's how my dad treated me -- he told me repeatedly that he didn't care how I felt, he just cared that I did what I was told). And I'm somewhat convinced that after I'm healed he's going to want me to sacrifice myself for the sake of others, because he doesn't consider my body important. Now with my MIND I know he's not like that, but my feelings are independent of my mind on this subject.

Patricia actually cares about me. She's so patient, and I'm so real with her. I don't try to withhold my feelings for fear of offending or irritating her, and she accepts me and continues to treat me with kind honor; she never skips over any statement I make, but treats everything I say as important. She never wavers in her belief that God loves me (and herself), and that helps me to come closer to believing. And she says the word 'shit' with nary a stammer nor blush. Now that is the kind of counselor I want to be when I'm healed!

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She's making me read this book that I don't like though. It's about a woman who was abused and healed -- and forgave her parents (dad abused her for 15 years, mom knew about it) BEFORE THEY REPENTED. What the fuckin fuckity fuck?

I'm totally a Jonah on this right now. (Jonah was a man whom God sent to tell a city to repent or He'd kill them, but Jonah didn't want them to repent and be saved. Jonah wanted them to get what they deserved for being such wicked horrid people, so he ran away. God had to shipwreck him and have a whale swallow him before he agreed to go -- and he spent two days in the whale's belly getting convinced. When Jonah finally went and told them, they all repented immediately, which REALLY pissed him off.) I don't want victimizers to be forgiven. I don't want anyone to show them love ever. I want them to live horrible miserable lives and die and be tormented forever and ever. But God doesn't want that. I think I'm in the whale's belly right now, just got swallowed. It's gonna be a looooooooong two (or more) days.

P.S. sorry about the no comments lately -- I'll get to it tomorrow hopefully.

Tonight was my first counseling session with Patricia, so we didn't dive too deep, though I think we touched on just about every pain in my life. I felt very stirred up inside... BUT.

Patricia told me that she was abused from very young until she was 17, and she used to get panic attacks when she knew that the perpertrator was in the same city... but two years ago she was able to go to a reunion where she sat next to him, so close that their knees touched, and she wasn't at all afraid or angry or upset. All she felt was a little sorry for him.

DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS? It means that there IS healing for us. We victims CAN get there. It isn't unreachable (she reached it in four years, and her abuse was much worse than mine) and it is possible for me to become the person I was designed to be, that "real" me that I daydream about. I can have my sexuality redeemed and be the fucking nympho that my true self is, I can get past all fear, I can learn to trust God (which is actually the hardest part), and maybe, just maybe, forgive my parents for not protecting me like they were supposed to (I don't really mean maybe, but that's hard for me to believe). And I know beyond any doubt that if healing is possible, I will get it. Probably not as soon as I'd like, but you better believe I will get there!

Of course, I have to dig up every single memory and work through it for that to happen, so this isn't the most gleeful thing in the world... but I have been given hope again. We can be healed, and when I am, I will actually have hope to offer to others like me. That was the worst thing for me, to think that God could allow one human to completely destroy another, that he could resist stepping in -- but now I know it's not complete destruction, healing is possible. Oh, almost as much as I long to be healed for my own sake, I long to be healed so that I can offer hope to others!

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...and I had always secretly thought to myself, 'So he was crucified and beaten, but that's mere physical pain; how can he know what rape victims feel?' Tonight Patricia told me that Roman soldiers are historically reputed for sodomizing their prisoners... so he did know what it's like. And he did go through what I went through. I feel closer to him, somehow.

Del is AWESOME!!!!!!!!!! See what she did!!! She read my bit of story where Hinimel is watching the gypsy-types of my world dance, and was so inspired that she had to draw!!! I remain terrificationally flattered.

      El was happy with the necklace and earring set I made for her!!! YAY!!!

      At breakthrough yesterday we talked about "How you see God" and how you tend to picture him however you picture your earthly father. So for me, like it or not, my subconscious view has been of a God that wants me to be perfect and will withhold love if I'm not, who doesn't want to share his heart with me, who delights in saying "no," and who isn't interested in things that are important to me but only in what I need to survive. Basically, a "you do it and I'll watch, and if it's not perfect I'm going to mush you with my big thumb" God. (Thumb-mushing quote from Kaylene) So at least I've pinpointed what I need to get past.

      Why is it so hard to get my spirit and soul to agree with my mind? Oh Lord, give me the strength to believe when I don't even have the desire!

      And right now I don't want to do anything that would please Him (AKA read Bible, pray, worship) because if I did and I was suddenly able to hear from him again, I'd think that it was because I "did good," and I don't want that. I want to be able to believe that He loves me and wants to be friends with me even if I'm NOT doing anything particularly pleasing. My heart is for him, and I want proof that that is what he's really concerned with. Thus, from a logical point of view (*Ben's*), I'm deliberately sabatoging myself, in effect refusing to take my medicine because I want a miraculous healing and don't want to believe that the meds had anything to do with it. Even if the meds are asprin and the illness is cancer.

Breakthrough to Joy didn’t move me much this time, but at the end we prayed through the wounding of rejection, and I felt something stir in my soul. I’ve always struggled with that, and I am believing that renouncing it has helped me. Even with my close friends, for a long time I wondered, “Do they really want my company or are they just being nice?” And I’ve had a fear of intruding, where I’m afraid to help even if it looks like someone really needs it, because they might get mad at me for intruding. I know that was taught by my family. I HATE that, it is so not me. The real Kristen would never be afraid, she’d say that the possibility of helping someone was worth the risk.