I sat staring at the wall this time.
I thought I was fine but the tears streaming down my face and the shaking my body was involuntarily experiencing said otherwise.
It has been almost 13 years since I last really looked at this for what it really was. Some called me a liar, some called me dirty, and others called me damaged goods, among other horrible labels given. I believed every last word and it dictated how I lived my life every day there after.
The truth was that they had no idea about the past that I had endured before this night happened. Sure, they knew a little bit, but details – no! And I was fine with that! No one would have wanted me at all had they known what had really taken place as I was growing up. I didn’t even know half of what had happened until recently. Which is what brings me to this particular night.
I was sitting in my counselor’s office not too long ago. We were almost done. I thought maybe just seeing her a couple more times would do it – you know, tie up loose ends, solidify the fact that I have made it through hell and back and I was back for good, and to just ensure that I had dealt with all the “major” stuff that I needed to process through in order to heal.
This all just shows Gods grace and His absolute perfect timing.
I sat in her office on a white couch that has become my safe place while I meet with her every week ready for whatever she throws at me; ready for whatever Papa has for me. I came to the realization last year that all of this was just part of a plan He had for me at the absolute perfect time and this day was no different.
Sitting there she asked me to go back to 13 years ago and just dive in to see if anything came up with this particular incident that I swore I was “over.” I mean, to me it made sense – I didn’t feel anything when I was asked about it or talked about it. So, naturally, I thought it would just be a thing that happened. I was so very wrong.
As I closed my eyes, I was back in that place. Back in that dark and empty living room. Music blaring, lights off, colored strobe lights piercing through the darkness, a couch, and a lot of alcohol. And just down the hall was a room that would become my own personal jail cell, my hell.
I was just 17 years old. I was running so hard and so fast form everything and everyone. I was angry with God because of life happening. I had gone through some things not but just a couple months before this, followed by my parents getting divorced. I was mad. I was hurt. And I wanted nothing to do with God so I did everything in my power to drown Him out and alcohol was all I could get my hands on this night.
They kept feeding me drinks one after another and I took them down so fast. I just wanted to forget and I wanted to remember. I wanted to remember and I wanted to forget. I wanted to feel and I wanted to numb out. I just wanted out. I wanted out but I couldn’t get out of my own head. So, one drink after another and down they went. Down I went.
Down I went back to the bathroom that was no more than 20 feet from where I had started. I felt horrible, but at least I was feeling. I felt so much that I became even more numb. I don’t know if I was given something else other than alcohol, but at that point it didn’t seem to matter.
I was in the bathroom propped up against the toilet for what seemed like forever. There were only 3 of us at the house that night. Me and two other guys, who were both supposed to be my friends. I was so adamant to the one I came with to watch out for me. If I was so worried about it, why did I go in the first place? I have asked myself that question so many times. Truth is that I sincerely thought I would be protected and I just wanted an escape from reality for a while and free alcohol was the way to my destination of nothingness, even if just for a short time.
I became so fatigued sitting up against the toilet that I could barely hold myself up anymore. I just wanted to lie down. Something wasn’t right. I had been drunk several times before but this was different. I felt different. I was so drunk but I remember everything from that night. I remember laughing. I remember being angry. I remember throwing back more shots because the one before wasn’t doing its job quick enough. I just needed it to do its job quicker.
My friend came to the bathroom and asked me if I wanted him to try to take me the 20 feet back to the couch in the living room or if I wanted to crawl to the bed that was 5 feet away. I opted for the bed because it was closer. He helped me up and left me there with a trashcan beside my head. I didn’t use it again.
I laid there looking down the hall. Music still blaring so loud you couldn’t hardly hear yourself think. I saw someone coming. Hoping that it was nothing, I closed my eyes for just a moment. I heard the door lock. Why did I hear the door lock?
He came in and before I knew it ——
All of this floods back into my memory sitting on that white couch. I have dealt with so much over the past year and a half – remembering, processing, remembering, processing, rinse and repeat over and over and over again. I honestly thought that this was just a distant memory.
I open my eyes and with tears streaming down my face I look at Alissa, my amazing counselor. All I could get out was how I didn’t understand where this was coming from and that I should be over it. A couple minutes goes by and all I could do was sit and stare at the wall.
My heart raced and I asked Papa why, 13 years later, this was hurting so bad. My emotions were getting the best of me and I tried to hold it together but the more I tried to hold it together, the harder it was for me to do so.
But then I was so gently reminded that I am given beauty for ashes, joy for mourning, and that everything that was taken from me, including my innocence as a child, would be given back. I used to believe that I was nothing. I used to believe that I was worthless, trash, tainted, unworthy, unwanted, despised, rejected, hated, ugly, damaged goods, and completely unlovable, but I know better now. I know better now because my Father says otherwise.
This has not been an easy process but a beautiful journey nonetheless.
I was reminded while sitting in my hot car afterward that I don’t have to have it all together – He will hold me together in my brokenness and in my unraveling. There will be times when stuff comes up but it’s because we have a Father that loves us that much. He refuses to let us stay buried in our past or pain. He is strategic in His timing in peeling back the layers because He knows exactly when and what we can and cannot handle. The beautiful part is that if we will let Him, He will use our struggles, pain, mess-ups, successes, highs, and lows to show His nature and raw love to others, change their hearts and lives, and in turn change the world.
A friend wrote this beautiful blog that changed my perspective of how I saw myself because I understood for the first time how the Father sees me.
This is just a snip-it of it:
“Girl in the mirror, it’s time to rise! It’s time to get rid of the labels that once defined you. It’s time for freedom to be all He has called you! Loved! Beautiful! Righteous! Holy! His Greatest Creation! World Changer! History Maker! Chosen! Beloved! Treasure! Strong! Spotless! Capable! Powerful! Blameless! Always Enough! Worthy! His!”
It was everything I believed I was not for so long but He completely changed my heart and altered all I thought about myself literally in a moment. I understood that I am all that He says I am.
You are all that He says you are. Period.
Please go read the rest of Diana Boyer’s “Girl in the Mirror” blog below!! You won’t regret it!
http://dianaboyer.theworldrace.org/?filename=girl-in-the-mirro”
