as a follow up to yesterday's post, i thought i'd go ahead and let yall in on my least favorite bad thing that has ever happened to me. please read with caution (and tenderness) though...
i am cautious to post this...it's not a widely-known part of my life, it's been protected for many years, for many reasons. i still haven't been able to tell my parents...don't know if ever i will...
it's one of those things that set off a course of events and undoubtedly, without it happening, i would most likely never have gone on the adventure that led me to alaska and honestly, the discovery of my heart and the true God. while these are marvelous things that i am forever grateful for discovering, it's still hard at times to look at the leaving of that place as a good thing. i'll explain...
the early parts of my life were spent growing up in georgia, we moved to florida and i remember feeling as though i didn't belong. i know most people have that period in their life where they just feel awkward and left out, overlooked, forgotten, forgettable...something, but whatever you may call it, alone is what it feels like. i left my home in florida for a school in the middle-of-nowhere, indiana and for the first time in my short life, i felt a commonality with the people i brushed my teeth next to in the morning and the people i'd stand in line with in the dining commons. there was a sense of community unlike anything i had known before. it was beautiful. i was so encouraged by the realness of those i lived with and my curiosity was piqued to push myself to become who God created me to be. i was incredibly blessed to find one of my soul mates there...he and i were two hands of a prayer, he was my best friend. we learned from each other, we learned together. we challenged each other.
i met this other guy there. well, actually i had met him a number of years prior when i went for a visit...but he was back at the school to finish his degree and we became fast friends. we hung out, went to eat, skipped class, went for walks, watched movies, went to sporting events...it was a typical kick-ass friendship that i loved. people would always comment on our visible chemistry and ask us both why we weren't together...one night after a long day of being ill, i went to his room to watch another movie and the unthinkable happened. i was at a loss.
you see, i had grown up so naive, that i assumed it was a natural part of adult relationships and although i said no, i blamed myself. i felt guilty. after he stopped coming to class, stopped coming to chapel and turned and walked the other way when he saw me on campus, i figured something was wrong. i had never seen him act weird. i found out a few short days later that he started dating a different girl. i was crushed. the one time i did have a chance to ask what had happened, he blamed me and just walked away. i was devastated. the end of the year came and i moved to colorado for the summer. i was alone, so very alone and without the ability to make it all stop hurting or at the very least, make it make sense. the fall semester started and i was determined to have fun during the year, grow, make friends, and hopefully finally move past the heartbreak of the last year.
i soon found out that something had been broken inside me and while all i was doing was ignoring it, the brokenness kept growing underneath my facade and was quickly consuming me. i didn't have the words, didn't even know that it was considered assault, to process what had happened, so i feebly went about life. i was a mess to say the least. there were many dark days and even more darker nights. i was in counseling, but couldn't tell my counselor about the event. my best friend, the guy that could breach any boundary, his touch and presence made me nauseous and i didn't know why. nothing made sense. my life, the life that i had felt so incredibly blessed to live the past year had become a living nightmare, my only recess was restless sleep and one unlikely girl friend, whom to this day, i believe God sent her specifically to me for that semester...if for nothing more than to fight the pain with laughter...
there are many things i don't remember about that last semester but these i do: i failed classes, i dyed my hair, i wore dark dark eyeliner, i stopped talking to people, i stopped trusting people, i cut myself, i dreamed of death. i remember at one really low point, there was a suicide on campus and her picture graced the cover of our newspaper. i distinctly remember looking at her picture and the hollowness in her eyes scared me. it felt like i was looking into the abyss that my life was quickly becoming and it frightened me. my dreams flittered through my mind, my hope, my once held dearly passions...and then jealousy surfaced; she had found her way out of the pain. it wasn't until a dear friend walked in on me cutting that i realized all my attempts to assuage my pain on my own were actually hurting other people; i had failed, yet again. i remember a prayer meeting that was held in our building and all i remember is standing there trying to reach out for help, crying, asking for forgiveness for being angry at the other female and literally making a fool of myself. i remember going home for christmas vacation and it was the first time i had seen my father cry for me. he asked me to come home now because if i didn't, the next time would be for my burial. i knew then my only choice was to leave the place.
i know my pain was public, but i don't think anyone cared. i mean, these people didn't know the depths of pain or darkness i had traversed. they didn't know what happened. they just saw it as a relationship that ended. no one knew. i was alone once again.
it's been seven years now since the event...and it's still difficult when all is considered- the friendships that were lost, the people that i don't talk to, my exit from that place as the 'crazy person', the humiliation and shame i went through...it's still difficult at times to see the good. and i don't know if i'll ever be able to see it entirely on this side of eternity...but i am who i am partly because of it. i am strong. i was broken. i was robbed of my innocence. i know the inside of that trench and my story has helped others around me. i am sensitive. i am empathetic. i am courageous. i was wounded, not only by him, but by the disappearance of those whom i loved. i was wounded, but Time has healed me and soon, maybe it will look like the rest of my scars...
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