There's good news though...
I guess I've always been an optimist. People typically describe me as "bubbly" (a word I hate) but I am outgoing. Often, this is mistaken for shallowness. Those who know me best would never describe me as bubbly. They know that when I approach someone I don't know -- or anyone for that matter -- and try to get to know them it's because I really do care.
I wear my emotions on my sleeves; never been good at hiding them. In high school a girl asked me why I was so happy all the time. (I missed the chance to tell her my real reason. See, I know the Messiah and he is my Master. Truly, that is why.)
The only boys I knew in high school were like my brothers. I didn't date. I was dragged around by them to all their concerts. I helped set up, take down. They didn't go to my school, but I went to church with them. They taught me a lot about guys and set my standards high.
First year of college. I met a guy who was too smooth. He talked the talk. Spent years living with a minister. In reality, he was a former military guy (who later dropped out of reserves) who was on a mission to sleep with more girls than his dad said he dated. He knew what I wanted to hear. But he also knew how to manipulate me. He used my deep compassion for people against me. Pretty soon, he was controlling me, telling me who I could be with. My guy friends were gone. I wasn't allowed to keep up my relationship with them. He took all my high goals for my life and tore them from me.
I know, you're thinking "you made those decisions." I used to be the kind of person that wouldn't take pity on women who wouldn't leave an abuser. It didn't make sense. See, before him, I was well-adjusted, happy, and confident. I was kind and knew what my future looked like. He was like a slow poison to me and eventually defeated my will.
I remember being pregnant and thinking, "I don't want to wake up."
Suicide was never an option. I didn't believe in it. I thought it was base. But I prayed to die in my sleep. I really thought, from that place in my life, death was better. I was being tormented daily. Accused. I would throw up from the interrogations.
The stress triggered contractions at four or five months along. I nearly lost my daughter. I was hospitalized.
He finally walked in to visit after my family left to eat quickly.
The first thing he said was, "I can't believe you turned out to be such a bitch."
He wouldn't let me get up and pushed me back down. Took my nurse button away. I swore I'd scream. I walked out to the lobby with my IV in hand; nurses nearly plotzed. He threated suicide because of how I treated him. He used it as a weapon.
He once attempted it in front o fme. Wrote suicide notes to me -- he said it was my fault. Because of me.
During this time, my clothes were all thrown out of the no-bedroom apartment more than once. I had to carry them back up. Very pregnant. I had a guitar thrown at me. Ice. Dr. Pepper can (full). I remember trying to escape him and locking myself in the bathroom for hours.
After she was born he'd take her from me and not let me have her when he was furious. I was so frightened.
I remember my mom helping me to bury a key to my car outside the house we moved to; he liked to take my keys from me. I had to erase all suspicious numbers from the caller ID after each call. I couldn't make long distance calls. He accused me of stealing from him when I paid a marriage counselor.
Mason, I was deeply depressed. My constant daydream was of me picking up my daughter and flying away with her off the front porch, so high that he couldn't catch me.
During this time, my spiritual life was nonexistant. I couldn't go to church. Didn't read my Bible. When I got frightened enough for my daughter, I left him.
I had to stop his visitations when she came home talking about porno mags. She wasn't yet four.
I don't know how I got out of it still. I was so sick. The antidepressants were awful. (After researching SSRIs I know why now.) The ONLY thing that got me back to where I am now, back to who I am, was my relationship with God, with Christ. I had to fully lean on Him. I had no strenght. I started counting on His promises.
Through Him, I finished college. Began teaching. I didn't make a lot of money, but I had a start. I didn't get child support. He later terminated his rights so I get none now. But teaching gave me so much.
I got to get outside myself. One student I had was cutting herself. She talked to me, of all people, about it. Another was deeply depressed. I told her that the only way she was going to get out was to get outside herself. She couldn't stay wrapped up in her own dispair and climb out. She had to find compassion for others. Help others. A couple students invited me to their church. I began going there.
I found my home church. Even though I don't teach there anymore, this is my home. I'm very involved and haven't been depressed since I remembered a promise from a youth minister I had: You'll never be happy in life if you're not in the Word daily. I've not needed anti-depressants.
No, everything is NOT rosy. Don't get that impression. I quit teaching at that school for myriad reasons. The teachers there still tell their students I was sleeping with a student. They even name the poor student by name. It isn't the truth, but I've not found a job through out the school year following me quitting that school. They gave me a bad reference.
I went on a mission trip to a developing country and saw people who had .01% of what we have here. I ministered to them. I went to the prison. To the orphanage. To the youth hostel. We gave out food, clothing, toiletries, and comfort. I helped reunite a prisoner with his daughter in CA by calling her when I came home, as I promised. She even sent me a Christmas card. I didn't have the money for the trip; God made sure I had it though.
I found some work substitute teaching and it sustained us. Now, I'm the youth intern at the church. Still applying at schools; still interviewing; still getting the "we decided to hire someone else."
But I haven't quit. Because there's so much more around the corner. God makes amazing promises.
Mason, he knew you when he formed you in the womb. He knew what he wanted to do with you and what he wanted to accomplish with you. The question is: are you going to allow him to make you the man he wants you to be? The man who'll stand for him, who'll declare his goodness to the people around you?
God rejoices in fixing broken things. There is no glory in using what is already usable or what is already spotless. He gets glory from taking us who are broken and cleaning us up. Only He can do that. But we have to get outside ourselves. Depression comes from being solopsistic -- the world revolves around us. Truly, the world revolves around God and we're a part of it.
A friend of mine was telling me yesterday how sad she is that the one man who ever treated her well (after 3 failed and dysfunctional marriages) died. She was bitter. She was angry at God. I said, "But the other guys told you no one would want you. He proved to you that someone wonderful would want you. It was his time to go. But thank God that God gave him to you in those last few months of his life to prove to you what you'd never known. He was your angel." She never saw her situation from God's point of view. God has someone perfect for her. But he has to get her to the right place.
Mason, things will not be roses. They will not be perfect. But he controls them. Truth is a person, not your circumstances. (I am the way, the truth, and the life.) If he is the truth, what you think you see cannot be. Job said, "though he slay me, yet will I trust him." I learned this after wishing to die. Now, I'm glad God ignored my prayers for that. I've got wonderful friends, a wonderful church family, and a wonderful daughter whom I love dearly. Most of all, I'd never had known how much he truly cares for me.
Don't expect God to work the way you want him to. He's not Santa. Just look for him working because he is.
You can email me at shulamite79@yahoo.com