I’ve had a really bad week. Other than living on the streets, as a teen for ten days, this has been the worst week I’ve had in my life.

I’m stuck. I feel emotionally, dreadfully, paralyzed. I can’t go back now to the way I was a few weeks ago. The trauma I’ve kept under the rug for so long is now flailing about and I am having a hard time managing the years of abuse I was subjected to and that I placed myself in. I’m dealing with shame and guilt and the most unbelievable fear I’ve ever endured in my life. I’m afraid to move forward to what I know (or think I know) will be progress. My god, I’ve known how to store away the memories and wipe the slate clean and move on in my life when everything else around me sucked. I was familiar with tucking that pain away in a safe little area in my mind. Like a deer caught in the headlights, I feel frozen with fear now. I’m not used to this feeling at all. I’m used to being strong and trudging on through the pain and difficult times. I’m used to having a clear sign or direction and filled with hope for the future. I can honestly say that I’m freaked out that bringing up my past won’t really guarantee a victory for me. I can not fathom how my life will be better by uncovering these wounds. I’m losing the hope I used to cling so tightly to. I’m overwhelmed in self-pity, shame, fear, doubt and a severe lack of courage.

I didn’t start EMDR last Monday. My counselor decided against it since she would be gone today. She didn’t want to delve into such a deep subject and then leave me hanging with and dwelling on the bad memories and images for two weeks. I’m grateful she made that decision because my week was tough enough as it was. But it’s left me with horrible anxiety for what is coming. I can’t even repeat some of the things done to me to Jase, the man whom I feel I can (and do) share anything and everything with. I’m not naive enough to think it’ll be any easier with a counselor. Instead, last week, we worked on my “Safe Place”, “Containment Box” and “Strength Builder.” I’ve sucked at all three this week. I’m so unfamiliar with this state of mind I’m in now, I didn’t even remember that I was given tools to deal with it all.

After the appointment last week, Jase came and picked me up with the kids and I dropped him off at work. I was still holding onto hope for healing of my past as the kids and I enjoyed a day trailing through Boulder Canyon. I’ll be writing an entry about this special time with the kids but I needed to get this post out of the way first. For now, long story short, we had a lot of fun exploring God’s beautiful country. Coming home was a different story, though. One of my abusers left his wife and four kids, on June 19th, for a vacation and to start a new life in California. The bible would now consider his wife a widow and her children as orphans. I was devastated for them. I took them under my arm and vowed to stick by them during this difficult time. Little did I know, I would also feel re-victimized during this process. Last Monday, this situation came to a head and, essentially, I was outcast by my family, with the perpetrator leading the charge. I was made into a target as I stood up for these victims. Blame-shifting and finger-pointing were tossed our way like grenades. I’ve never felt like such an outsider in my own family. The pain of that situation combined with the pain that is being stirred up from my past came to a head and I felt buried alive. I felt like I had been tossed out to sea in 50 foot swells and expected to tread water indefinitely. This family member is now wanting to come back and make amends with the family he abandoned and get help for himself but, on my end, I’ve been damaged again.

It’s amazing to me that I’m singing more than ever before. I’m grateful for that because it’s forcing me to stick with something that I love so much and it’s keeping my focus where it needs to be. I’m clinging to Christ and the hope and restoration He’s promised but I just feel as if my feet are buried in concrete as I struggle to walk through this Valley of the Shadow of Death. The trek is hard and exhausting.

God, please give me courage and strength and please never stop reminding me that Your redemption covers all and that I’m free.