I've heard that voice before

Years ago I was in a relationship that wasn't working. Still, I sincerely thought J and I were going to get married. So, the day he walked into my house and broke it off, accusing me of something I didn't do, I was shocked. I followed him back to his house, trying to prove him wrong.

I cried and begged and pleaded for him to listen to me, tried to prove I hadn't been talking to the person he had forbidden me to have contact with several months before. I don't remember most of what I said. I do remember that at some point, I collapsed into a sobbing heap on the entryway floor. My whole body was shaking and I was ready to throw up any second. Then, all of the sudden, I heard a voice in my head. (Don't worry, it wasn't a psychotic break... it was my own voice...)

I said, "You are miserable. You fight all the time. This is your chance to walk away. This is not what you want for your life."

The next thing I know, I had walked out the door and gone home. I then deliberately sabotaged any chance we had at getting back together by actually calling the person he had forbidden me to contact. A few days later, the banned person had asked for a ride somewhere and I said okay. J saw him in my van. The look on J's face made me wonder if I had done the wrong thing. I was immediately terrified. I was officially alone again. I called him, emailed him, sent texts, randomly tried to chat with him. I made a lot really poor decisions, many of which I blamed on him.

Two months later I went out with friends one night and, after the bars closed, they dropped me off at home. I remember walking in my front door. Next I remember standing on his front porch and hearing him say, "Stay right there. I'm calling the police." I was three of the five blocks home before they made it to his house and he pointed them in my direction. The officer didn't approach me on the sidewalk. He just asked from the street where my home was and if I was going there. I said yes, and I did.

The next time I had a weekend with no kids, the friends who had dropped me off before thought it would be a good idea for me to stay with them instead of going home... to keep me out of trouble. That was the last time I hung out with those friends because that was the night that she slept in one room while I said, "No." to him in another and my 'No' was ignored.

Who did I turn to for comfort after this happened? The man who had been my best friend for nearly four years, J. His response was, "You got what you deserved."

His comments should have been a confirmation to me that I had been right when I walked away. Instead, his rejection of me spurred me to convince him we should be together. It was two years before I quit trying to talk to him... all the while I let my life spin out of control. I've mentioned here that I have a hard time letting go sometimes right? Yeah, thought so.

So, what reminded me of all of this tonight?

D is leaving in the next few days, moving out of state. We have been 'just friends' for quite awhile now, but his definition of 'friends' changes from time to time (sometimes from minute to minute) and it has been more than a little confusing for my heart and my mind. 

A couple of times this week I have had melt-downs where I just had to shut myself in my room and cry until I was out of tears. Sometimes I think he stops by and talks about packing and leaving just to make me cry. I'm supposed to be helping him with one of his classes via the internet this fall, and he promises we will Skype, and he'll come visit at Christmas when he's in town to see his mom. I've already been told what I'm making for dinner when he comes over.

But today, when I started to fall apart after getting a text from him about the class I'm supposed to help him with, and again later while I was putting together some photos I'd gathered for him, I heard a familiar voice in my head. "Why are you doing this? He has proven he does not really care about you. You are miserable when he is around. You have to fight all the time for respect. This is not what you want for your life. This is not what God wants for your life. Move on."

Holding on has not served me well in the past. The voice was right before, and I ignored it. Tonight I am asking for grace and help and direction as I fight to be the girl I am supposed to be, instead of continually slipping back into the patterns of that girl God saved me from being.

How many times has He saved me from myself? More than I can count. I'm thankful tonight that He isn't giving up on me.

And I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns. 

~Philippians 1:6 (NLT)

 I also pray that you will understand the incredible greatness of God’s power for us who believe him. This is the same mighty power that raised Christ from the dead and seated him in the place of honor at God’s right hand in the heavenly realms. 

~Ephesians 1:19-20

Giving up Days

I can tell you
about storylines
that took place when I was 5.
I have been watching this show
for my entire life...
I remember seeing the same couples
get together and break up
and marry other people
only to get together again.
I've seen men rape women
who turned around
and fell in love with them.
I've seen women drug and rape men.
I've seen "accidental" cheating,
serial cheating,
emotional cheating,
every depth of cheating
one could imagine.
And every time,
as long as that storyline
ended in something that
looked like love,
the rest was brushed aside.
Nobody cared about the rape
or the cheating
or the lying
or the string of relationships
he or she has had since the last time
that couple was together...
And nobody cares that
little girls
teenagers
young women
are watching and learning
from this daytime madness.

Growing up, I wanted to be just like them... not because they were rich, not because they were having great sex, not because they were model-thin... but because they were loved by a guy who was perfect for them (you know, until he cheated or she did... but that was besides the point!).

And all the things they HAD to do to get to that happy, loving relationship... that was just normal, right? It's crazy how the length of time a woman on a soap opera stays single after the death of her husband or after a divorce or break-up... can be counted in days. Lie, cheat, steal and have sex with anyone who paid attention to you... that's how it goes in the glamorous lives of daytime TV.

I have quit watching Days of Our Lives before for one reason or another, and I was always sad. I would use the net to try to catch up, or I would have a moment and find out what was happening with the families I had grown up with...  It was like I missed some friends and wanted to know what they were up to.

But lately the sex was too much. The cheating and backstabbing were tiring. The lies were irritating. I wanted to tell every woman on there... "Hey idiot.. that isn't love." I just couldn't watch it anymore.

I daydream a lot... and it is funny that, when thinking about how one thing or another could work out, I have to stop now and think, "Is that really how God would do it or is this a soap opera story line?" I don't know everything, but the answer to that one is usually pretty simple... and it often changes the way I react to a situation as well. Although, I DO know His sense of humor enough to know that I am bound to see some good "soap-worthy" stories from time to time. :-)

The point of all of this?
I quit watching Days of Our Lives again a couple of weeks ago... for good. And I don't miss it.

I hope its negative presence in my life continues to make a positive impact.

She said

He raped her while she slept.
She told the story
like it was no big deal.
He was a pig,
lucky she didn't press charges
it happened
but it's in the past.


Our stories are very different
in some ways
but not all.


Still,
I didn't feel guilt
coming from her.
I didn't feel pain.
I didn't feel self-loathing
seeping through her words...
Just a matter-of-fact story.


If other people can shrug it off, why can't I?


(added later) I think maybe it's because I still hate him, regardless of the details....

Funny how many of the stories I used to write included that "rape fantasy" where she said she didn't want it, but she really did. Before I understood the reality.

In reality it's a whole different ball game.

This one is going to take awhile (Part 1)

I don't know if this is a good idea or a bad one. I don't know if this serves a purpose or not. I know it took me two years to get over J and all of the sudden I can't stop thinking about him. It was just during prayer before... and I have prayed so many times for his salvation... even if I never see him again, I still want him to love Jesus. But I also know that him loving Jesus, and knowing that I am a different person now would probably fix just about every issue we had.

Last week I accidently drove past where he works... I was looking at a rental house nearby and couldn't find it. Honestly, I didn't know he still worked there. But I saw his car in the parking lot at CAT and almost wrecked.

I thought asking God what to do would help, but I don't know the right questions. Should I continue to pray for his salvation? Duh... It is God's will that everyone be saved... so praying for something that is in His will is always a good thing. Should I pray that we get back together? That would be one huge frickin' miracle... and I don't know if us getting back together is God's will or not. I could continue to ask... but asking to know the future never quite works out. I don't think He wants me to know.

So here I am, stuck... but it can't hurt to get this all out... I feel the need to write and all I can think about is this...

So anyway, here goes nothing...

----------------------

He lived just a few blocks away from me in high school.
We rode the same bus.
We had at least one class together.
He was in my car in driver's ed.
But we never spoke to each other.

Nearly ten years after graduation, January 13, 2007, when a mutual friend introduced us after dragging me out to karaoke, we hit it off right away. He added me on messenger and we would talk all night via the computer. It didn't take long for me to have a huge crush on him. I knew it wouldn't work out. There was no way he would ever like me... I even flirted with other guys online because I knew J was just a one-sided thing. He'd be bored and move on soon. But he didn't.

He volunteered to fix the radio in my van and to thank him I cooked dinner. Afterwards we sat on the couch and watched TV together with the kids running around everywhere. One child climbed up on my lap and threw her head back... and then that precious, adorable 3 year old said, "Wow, you have big boobs." I don't know who was more embarrassed.

Another day he was fixing the bathroom door that was falling off the hinges and had his tools laid out next to him. My five year old son was inspecting his work and showed J his own tools... "Look, I have a wrench too." J smiled, "Wow, do you fix things with that?" My son gave him a strange look and said, "No. It's just plastic."

Welcome to my life, J.

I wrote a song once about the night things turned from friendship into something else. It would make a fun country song... We had both been drinking and having a great time when he leaned in so nobody else could hear to ask what I wanted to do after the bar closed, "Can I take you home, or can I take you home?" I looked at him, obviously puzzled. He said, "Those are two completely different options. Think about it." There was a lot of liquid courage that night because that was not something he would normally say or do... and even when we got back to his apartment, if I hadn't kissed him first... nothing would have happened.

The next day he felt guilty. He was scared. A single mom of four... he had never dated a woman with kids before. It took a week and some prodding from friends to get him to admit that he did really like me and it wasn't a mistake. In fact, he came over one night, I am pretty sure to tell me that he just couldn't do it... there were tears on both sides... and then we kissed again and it was all over... or rather, it really began.

My youngest had already been diagnosed with a rare disease and was in need of a transplant when we first met in January. Scheduled to leave town for six months in April, He and I were pretty inseparable for the next six weeks after he decided he really did want to pursue a relationship. I couldn't believe any of it was happening. In the midst of this terrible diagnosis and scary treatment for my baby, I was finding happiness.

I had held some fundraisers to help cover expenses while the baby was in transplant. The morning I left town, J handed me an envelope with $500 in it to help. I knew he was a good guy. He had always been kind and respectful and thoughtful... but his continuing to be selfless when it came to the kids and I just told me for sure that God had put us together for a reason. This guy was the one.

 

----------------------

I had no idea about the struggles we would go through and the things we would do to hurt each other over the next four years.

I know some of the things he did were wrong... especially towards the end. There are things that, if we saw each other again I would have a hard time forgiving... He had a conversation with my oldest about which room in his house would be hers... right before he dumped me and never spoke to the kids again... not a single word, hug, goodbye, nothing... after 4 years. He told my mom all of my secrets when he was angry at me one time... all of them. Things I haven't even put in this blog yet... my mom knows. He told me the rape that happened after we broke up was my own fault... that one I am still dealing with.

But I'm no saint... I spent so much time acting out of fear that he would leave me if he knew me. I lied. A lot... It was all little stuff. "So what are you doing today?" "Cleaning the house." I was laying on the couch covered by a blanket of depression I didn't know how to pull off of myself... or playing mind-numbing games online so I didn't have to think about life.  "Who was that text from?" "Just a friend." It was an ex-boyfriend who I rationalized trying to stay friends with. "What were you going to tell me?" "I lost five pounds!" I didn't. I lost 2... and the truth was, he didn't really care... but I was afraid he did.

My mind was a mess. My priorities were a mess. My life was a mess. And I was trying to tell HIM that his life would be better if he had Jesus.

Is it any wonder that he didn't believe me?

Search and destroy or let it go?

So as I wrote through the last several posts,
it began to bother me that the stories and poems I used to write
are still out there for people to read.

It's funny how difficult it is to call it what it is...
but I know I have to take a hard line with this.
I know that if I let the lines get blurred
then things that are not okay will become "okay" again...
If not for me, then for someone else...

So once again... Porn. I'm talking about porn.

It doesn't have to be a video. There doesn't have to be a picture. No audio is necessary.
It can be 100% written words, but it is what it is...
   glorification of lust, degradation, abuse, lack of self worth, rape, disrespect, and so much more... all written in a way that suddenly makes it "acceptable" to the reader. Even those romance novels that my grandma used to keep in the back closet that ended with "true love" but were full of those other things...

     It is still porn.

As for the stuff I wrote...
There is nothing out there even remotely connected to my name.
Nobody will ever know any of it was mine
     except for one person who knew about one story...
          but seeing as he was the guy I wrote about in Trashcan,
I doubt it will ever come up again.

Still, I thought that maybe I should go and have the stories taken down. Then I could delete them and never think about them again...

Problem... In an attempt to find the stories I wanted deleted forever... I came face to face with a lot... A LOT... of stuff I work hard to avoid these days.

So I think I'm going to give up on that.
I'm going to pray nobody I know ever reads the
things I came to think were 'normal' and 'fun'...
     maybe they can be super-naturally deleted from cyberspace.

Praying for a lot of grace over these... not sure what else to do.

Thinking about how these were part of "the process" that I need to forgive...
but I don't know yet if I can...
this part of me might be too broken...
I can be sorry for things I know are wrong, and attempt to erase them... but the truth is, if I hadn't forced myself to stop reading and writing this kind of stuff... if I didn't know it isn't pleasing to God... I would still enjoy it very much... and what does that say about my character?

It can't be good.

No, I Don't Really Want to Have this Conversation

No, I don't really want to have this conversation, but what is the point of a blog that helps hold me accountable if I only put the things in it I actually want to talk about? Plus, I have been getting the feeling that God wants me to be comfortable with this topic. (Really? Me? Seriously?)

Let's start here... I recently had to define this word for someone I know and love. Why? Because sometimes something as simple as the real definition of a word can help someone you love triumph over sin. Because until they know the true definition of that word, it is easy to say "Oh, this isn't that... that is something way worse than this... what I am doing is still on the edge of okay..."

Confused yet?

Porn. I'm talking about porn.

What is the definition of pornography? As I explained it to this someone, it goes like this... Porn is the visual, audio, or written description or depiction of anyone in a real or simulated sexual situation whether they are alone or with one or more other people of the same or opposite gender.

Wow, right? That covers a lot of stuff...

Erotic literature. Pictures. Videos. Most late night television. Definitely the VMA awards... but I'm not writing about Miley here...

So, why was it so important to share with this person that it is a slippery slope from reading semi-erotic literature created mostly by teens who have no clue what they are talking about to an all out porn addiction?

Because I know.

I could write about exes with problems. I could write about friends with problems. I could easily use other peoples' lives to say that pornography is evil, addictive and has the capacity to ruin every relationship you'll ever have... but if I can use examples from my own life I probably should.

For me, porn twisted my sense of normalcy. If what was happening on the screen or in the story I was reading (and eventually writing) was normal... then if someone asked me to do it or even go a step further... of course I should, right? Even if I didn't enjoy it. Even if I was disgusted. Even if I was embarrassed. Even if it just felt wrong. If I said "No" then someone might think there was something wrong with me. Right? Eventually... all those silly feelings went away and it all felt "normal."

Porn also messed with my idea of what was ideal. It furthered my confusion of love and sex. That love story was soooooooo romantic... yeah, he was disrespectful and that one time sort of bordered on rape... but, eventually they fell in love... so, it's all good. Right?

While only one ex boyfriend ever got angry at me for looking at (and writing) porn, there were several relationships where it was a problem for me because the other person was so obsessed with it. I can't say much more without it sounding like I'm telling other people's secrets... but at some point I decided that it must not be that bad. I'm sure another post is coming about what led to that decision... but that's not this one.

I honestly don't know that this could be called an addiction for me. I gave it up quite easily when I gave up sex... which you can read about here. More accurately, it was a symptom of my addiction.

Not that I didn't slip up... (with porn, not with sex.) I think it is clear to anyone who actually reads this blog (which I'm kinda hoping is nobody today) that I know I am a sinner... and I have a lot of work to do... but God used the last "slip-up" to open my eyes to what I was really seeing.

All of those things listed above are indeed porn, but my slip-up and my eye-opening experience resulting from that slip-up were due to a video on the internet. I'm sure I'll be writing about the other forms some time soon as well... *sigh*

The last time I watched an actual pornographic video, it was late at night. I was lonely and tired and sad and bored and restless... I just couldn't sleep. I grabbed my phone from the charger and went to a site I had been to plenty of times before in the past and picked a video at random. (Know that when God is trying to tell you something, nothing is ever random.)

The women and the man in this video were not American. The were saying things in English, but with very thick accents. They seemed to be enjoying themselves. Then, suddenly, though the video did not change... I was watching an entirely different movie.

I started to cry.

These women were wearing clothes (barely) and makeup (lots) but it wasn't enough to hide the bruises up and down their legs and thighs... you can strategically place a hand anywhere to cover a single bruise... but there weren't enough hands on the set to cover these.
All of the sudden I realized that these were real people. I started imagining what they had been through to get those bruises and my chest started to hurt just thinking about their pain. I may be a baby when it comes to pain... but bruises hurt... Why were they being beaten? Was this something that happened all the time? What makes those kinds of bruises? Did they cry? Did they beg someone to stop? I don't know... but people don't voluntarily let themselves be bruised like that.


Let's forget that lust is a sin for just a second, and look at it this way.

Healthy, happy people don't make porn and share it with others.  Maybe they were those women I'd heard about who were sold into slavery for just this type of purpose. Maybe they were being forced to do this. Maybe they were just broke and needed the money. So many maybes...

Whether these men and women are being forced to do the things they are doing, or whether they are doing it because they are hurting, broken people... what kind of a person takes any kind of pleasure in watching someone in that situation do anything?

Yes, partaking in porn is a sin. Yes, I slipped up. Yes, I learned my lesson... so much so that it has taken me a little time to actually write about it... but it is a lesson that I will share if it makes someone else think before they click play.

And as I look back over all that I've said here, I see there really is too much for one blog post... but there may be a reason I have so much to say on this subject... and all subjects pertaining to sex... Remember this post? Well, these were the things that were ever-so-lightly touched upon in that article... the article where I knew I could "preach it" better than the woman who slid past all the dirty parts of these problems and just tried to smooth it all over with a pretty picture of Jesus...

The codependant person and "f" word

Friend.

What is it about that word that ties me to people?

Go ahead...
Lie to me
steal from me
(just find some way to justify it)
make fun of me
belittle me
(you're just trying to help me be a better person)
ignore me
(you are busy, your life doesn't revolve around me)
yell at me
disrespect me
ignore my no
make sure I know my place

As long as you call me your friend... all will be forgiven.

It takes so much to break that tie, that very few have managed to do it. How to literally make me walk away from you and take the label of "friend" away...? So few have done it, I don't even know what to say there.

What is a "friend"? When did having friends become so important to me? Where did I learn or teach myself that anyone can be my friend regardless of their intentions or their actions?

I don't know. One more thing to explore on this journey into my self... admitting that I have a problem is one huge step towards finding the solution.

Trashcan

It wasn't a violent thing.
There was no yelling or screaming.
There was no kicking or hitting or biting.

I simply said no.

He didn't listen
He didn't believe me
He'd been here before
He knew I would give in
So he just kept going.

His reply to my tears
was a laugh and a line from a song
"a lap dance is always better when the stripper is crying..."

He had me half undressed before I was even awake enough to comprehend what was happening.

When he was done with me he left the room... purposely refraining from giving me the one thing I desired from every man... a hug, a kiss, a caress... something to make me feel special. Something to make giving up a piece of myself worth it.

He had always been an ass... but I put up with it because he called himself my friend. I put up with it because he would make me feel better sometimes when I was lonely. I put up with it because I saw "truth" in his eyes... my own self-loathing... he only thought I was worth one thing... and I thought only one thing made me special.

Suddenly though, I hated him. The thought of him naked suddenly made me nauseated.

Knowing that I let my kids hang out with him and his girlfriend made me want to smack my head against the wall. What was I thinking? What was he teaching my kids behind my back? What kind of example was this for them if they found out?

I told a couple of people what happened. The one whose words I valued the most at that moment told me it was my own fault for keeping bad company and that I should have known it would happen eventually and have stayed far, far away from him.

I fought that.
Didn't want to believe it.
I KNEW it wasn't my fault.

Then, weeks later, it came back to me that he once mentioned he had a "safe word"... because sometimes 'no' is just said in fun, he had told me...

It was 'trashcan' ... how appropriate...

All I had needed to do was say it... why didn't I remember? Why didn't I shout the word out? Or, forget the stupid word... why didn't I just kick him in the f-ing balls?

Why had I given in so many other times that he considered me his for the taking?

All the whys...

Let's be clear... there was no mistaking my 'no' for anything but a no... 


In hindsight I can see all the ways he crushed my spirit to make sure I would do what he wanted... all the ways he played on my co-dependence (I didn't even know the true meaning of the word at the time).. all the ways he made sure I hated myself just enough to accept his affection as a confirmation that I wasn't worthless...

And this was just one man in my past... not even a serious relationship... just a "friend"... I am seriously reconsidering what that word means... "friend"... another post for another day...