Newsflash: The World Sucks

As I was browsing through my news feed today, I was brought to tears by a story of a realtor who had gone missing after going to meet a client for a showing. It turns out she was kidnapped and murdered.   I immediately was thinking what many of us all think, "Who is really safe anymore?" It is as if we can't go about our normal days without worrying about what is going to happen to us.

Then I started thinking about all the other news articles that have been brought to attention just the past few months. Child sex trafficking, numerous other sexual assault cases, murder cases, the ISIS murders...the list goes on.

A little bit ago, I wrote a blog post titled Rape vs. Gumdrops: Choosing Reality Over Ignorance. It was met with mostly positive agreement, but there were a few who may have been offended by it. Granted it was an opinion piece, but I believe there was a lot of truth in it.

This post will tell you why.

The world is filled with crime. It isn't something we can necessarily escape, as awful as that sounds, but it isn't as if this is a new thing. Everything that we currently read about in the news has been happening for as long as sin has been in existence, which is a pretty long time. The difference is, whether we like it or not, technology has created a direct line to these crimes.

Think about it, if it weren't for social media, would you be half-aware of the awful stories that pop up every day? Probably not. The kicker is that so many people complain about what they are reading, as if they are surprised.

Newsflash: the world sucks.

You can try and separate yourself as far from reality as possible, but today, awareness is just something that happens. If you want the world to be a better place, you have to accept that awareness, and use it!

Believe me, before I started writing this post, I had a different approach to how I was going to present this information. I was going to say that the World is not getting any better, but then I realized, that isn't necessarily true. I think the World has inhibited the exact same of awfulness for a while, but we just know more about it. Yes, there are things that still shock people, even me (although it takes quite a doozy of a story to do so).

If you think back to the past few months, have you noticed that the stories dealing with sexual assault (including campus rape, molestation, child sex trafficking, etc), have spiked immensely? Think about it.

Now, have you also realized that organizations such as RAINN, Joyful Heart Foundation, and the YWCA have also received more funding because of this? Have you also realized that the government has taken a stand as well with numerous PSA's. Do you know why?

Awareness.

The more you are aware, the more you care.

Which is why from now on instead of wondering why the world is falling apart, think about how blessed we are to understand what is happening around us. If we didn't know, how could we possibly change things? Turning a blind eye has NEVER solved anything. If you are scared of what is out there, you aren't the only one, but just know it is better to know what is out there than be surprised by it.

19 Years and Counting (Some Sensitive Material)

There is something interesting I have noticed since connecting with other survivors of sexual assault. There is this battle for supremacy on each other's experiences, and it isn't the "my experience was SO much worse than that!" It is almost always the other way around. I don't know why, or how, but it has been common for other victims to say things to me such as:

• "I mean I was raped...but I can't even imagine what you went through. That is just awful."
• "How can I even compare myself to you? It only happened once to me!"
• "How did you make it through? I am still struggling, and I didn't have it nearly as bad as you."

These are only a few of the statements that have been tossed my way on a regular basis. It is actually quite sad, because I have never thought of myself as any more of a victim than anyone else. It matters not the quantity of assaults, all it takes is one time.

It honestly doesn't even matter the details. A victim could have been drugged and woken up with zero bruises and no memory; she could have been a child forced into believing it was her duty to lay there and behave; a wife who has no way out; or a jogger blindsided violently. We ALL carry the shame and anger that is included with being a victim of sexual assault.

We are in this together.

Don't let what "experts" say about what is classified as an assault invalidate your story. It doesn't have to be some deranged TV-worthy experience, because that is really not the reality of sexual assault. Granted there are those stories that are gut-wrenching and almost impossible to comprehend, but the truth is,  the majority of rape victims are those whose stories wouldn't make the national headlines.

I promise you, your story IS important. 

Every time a victim shut's herself down because she doesn't think her story is worth hearing, she is letting another rapist win.

We are SHAMED into silence for a reason right? So that their indignity can be buried with us. So we carry that shame. 

Don't turn a blind eye to what is happening around us; what has happened to you.

Most of all, don't let small losses in the path of healing effect your overall journey. We don't all get earthly justice for what happened to us, but that doesn't mean we can't create it by spreading awareness. 

I am not sure what compelled me to write this other than I am currently passing a difficult anniversary of one of the last times I was sexually abused and raped. I sit here almost 20 years later, and to me, it is as if it still happened yesterday. I can still taste him, feel him, and it makes me want to vomit. 

Tell me, how familiar is that very feeling to my fellow survivors? If you pass that date, a date other people would just roll their eyes at, do you feel a shiver down your spine? Do you still feel as though its fresh, even for a moment? My guess is yes, because no matter how strong you are, you are human. 

The one thing that is amazing about me passing this anniversary, no matter the horror I see behind my eyes, I get to say that I have made it through another year of not letting him win. I have broken the silence, and I will stand with my fellow survivors, because they too deserve to break their silence and release that burden of shame.

19 years and counting.

I Will Not Eat the Darkness

It's hard to imagine that despite my immense progress through DBT, and my ability to more easily manage my BPD, I still fall off the wagon. I don't mean full-blown laying on the bathroom floor with cuts up and down my legs, but to the point where the thoughts were there. Up until this past weekend, I have barely had any suicidal or self-harm thoughts for a few weeks. This was new to me.

The minor stresses of adulthood were no longer throwing me into an uncontrollable rage, and I was forming multiple relationships without breaking them within the same week. Music, worship leading, and my family were keeping me busy. Things were awesome! 

Then my husband left for a business trip. No big deal right? Not ultimately, unless you are a Borderline who catastrophizes everything. Fear of the unknown became my new best friend once I dropped my husband off at the airport. The scenario went a little like this:

Husband: "Bye sweetie, I love you!" Kisses wife.
Wife: "I'm going to miss you so much! Please text me every five seconds!" Tries to kiss husband back, but the massive amount of tears flowing from her eyes siphons into his mouth instead. She drives away looking calm for a split-second, then falls apart repeatedly on the way home. Baby is in back seat laughing at mama's wailing and mimics her. 

The freak-out was purely instigated by my thoughts of "Oh no! What if this is the last time I will ever see my husband again!???!?!?!"

Now, I am aware that this is a normal thought that crosses many women's minds when it comes to their significant others, children, other family members, or close friends. So don't think I'm surprised by this. Remember though, my emotions can be heightened for an extended period of time. This is why skills are so important for me, because otherwise I would be feeling that dread 100% of the time for at least a few days.

So I kept myself busy for those four days my husband was gone. I made plans with friends, took on musical projects, worked a couple full-length shifts at my part-time job, and stayed with my step-mother for company for those few nights. In all aspects, it worked well, but what I didn't realize was that I was just delaying the effects of my turmoil. While I was being smart by keeping myself occupied, I left out other crucial components of my ability to stay stable. Rest and exercise.

Each night my husband was away,  I got an average of 3 to four hours of decent sleep. On top of that, due to my need to overload myself with projects, I haven't ran consistently for about a month. Not exactly a great combination. When you throw in the fact I was unable to spend the one day out of the year I get to be spoiled (my birthday) with my husband, and how sad that made me, what do you get? A breakdown!

This past weekend, I snapped at someone in public, a friend at that,  then beat myself up over it. Within moments I received a passive aggressive text from my husband (it happens) which then threw me into absolute rage. While I had friends around me that helped me and prayed over me, I was still on fire. The only thing I wanted to do was cut. I was at a function without my husband, so my solution was to just avoid going home. I drove to an empty lot, and called my therapist for accountability. Then I sat there for about 20 minutes until the desire to hurt myself subsided.

The rest of the night the thoughts kept going in and out. The mental exhaustion had taken its toll, and I frankly just wanted to give up. After talking to my therapist, I managed to rationalize things better, but this entire week has been one filled with anxiety, anger, and depression. It is now that I have realized that this "emotional regulation" is a full-time gig, and I can't wait for the day where all these skills become muscle memory and I no longer have to exhaust myself in the process of becoming level.

I hope that those around me remember that despite my faith and love for God, my family, and my friends, there is still darkness in my head. It may not show its face as often, but I will constantly have to be working on preventing its reappearance. Even years from now, I'll probably be using skills on a daily basis, but the important concept to remember is that I will NOT eat the darkness.

A Birthday Transformation: From Victim to Survivor to Thriver

So here I am, one year closer to 30, and finally figuring out what I'm supposed to be doing with the hand I have been dealt. Most of this transformation has taken place in the past year, more specifically, the past eight months. It is overwhelming to think that if it weren't for the people God placed in my life, I would not have seen this day.

I don't like to remember the day I started planning my suicide, because it makes me feel ashamed of my condition, especially when it was not being managed. I had planned to book a hotel room in order to journal for a weekend, something I had thought previously would be a good idea anyway. My husband was doing his best to support me through my turmoil because at that point there was nothing he could say or do to pull me from my depression. All he could do was go along with what he knew deep down was not a good idea.

The idea was to be away from anyone who could pull me back into reality, and I was going to write my story down, and my reason for not wanting to live with the repeated horror show in my head...my rapist's constant punishing voice echoing between my ears.

Before I had the chance to complete my plan, I was placed in the path of a nurse practitioner who went above and beyond the call of duty and my best friend, who knows how to break me into complete vulnerability. For the full story click here.

So here I am, alive, and so thankful for it. I do still struggle with wavering thoughts of suicide, which comes and goes with BPD, but I am learning to manage the triggers that bring those on,  and they have decreased in quantity significantly.

I fight day to day because I know I have been placed on this earth to serve a purpose. No one goes through the hell I experienced just to sit on their ass for the rest of their life waiting for things to get better. One can not just turn a blind eye to evil like that. And I don't. My biggest goal through coming forward with my story was to one day be able to help others.

Now I am a member of RAINN's Speakers Bureau. I have used my passion for music to spread love and joy by becoming a worship leader at my church. I also started up a YouTube channel for my followers on my Facebook page to see how music can be a vital instrument in the healing process. I share original music and my renditions of popular songs. More recently I interviewed for a volunteer victim advocate position at my local YWCA, which would be one of my biggest personal achievements through this journey as I would directly be helping victims.

So yea, I guess you can say I have met my calling in life as an advocate and artist. Nothing brings me more joy than using the gifts and hardships I have been blessed/hindered by in a way that shines a light in this world that otherwise is washed with darkness.

I could have chosen to leave out the fact that I almost didn't make it past this year of my life, but my birthday happens to fall the same month as Suicide Prevention Awareness, it just made sense to share that portion of my year.

I pray that this next year, I can continue to be brave for those who have lost their armor due to being traumatized. I promise to never give up, and always be a voice for other victims. Additionally, I will not stop writing or composing music, because it is through these artistic outlets that the most awareness is delivered.

Stay tuned for another year of transformation.

This Doesn't Seem Right...

I have mentioned before how my husband has grown weary of my progress through DBT and therapy in general, and I don't blame him. When you have been with someone who is as emotionally dysregulated as I am for 9 years, it might be hard to accept their sudden acceptance of reality. I have heard him say, "This doesn't seem right. There has got to be something shady going on here..."

No. I'm just not as crazy.

Yet, I'm not healed. 

What so many fail to understand is that BPD is ongoing. I will always have to be working at being mindful, but that is okay. Eventually all this practice will become natural, almost like muscle memory. Trying will transform into doing, and perhaps one day, it won't feel like I am playing a tedious game of Jenga with my brain.

This week, I had a moment of weakness and lost the game of balance against my mental awareness. It wasn't anything dramatic, but enough to make me realize that I am exhausted from fighting against myself. I don't know what triggered the wave of tears, but I just couldn't stop bawling. I felt as if my world was caving in on me, and I couldn't justify why. 

My only goal at that moment was to try and compose myself as best I could, because I couldn't let my husband know I was falling apart. I mean, I was making such good progress. How does a blubbering woman-child represent that? It doesn't. All it does is prove his doubts that I'm not really okay.

But really I am, but I'm kind of not too...

Here is the thing: I can be both happy and sad at the same time. It is totally possible, although I never use to think so. I always felt that you could either be ecstatic with life, or epically miserable. Never a little bit of both. Last week I spoke about how there were some relationships in my life that I feel I am losing, and that I was okay with that. I am...really.

But then again... 

I have worked SO incredibly hard in the past eight months to not be an over-bearing and passive aggressive needy BPD wart that I can be and I know I have done a pretty awesome job. I am confident I have given the space to those who have needed it and have shown my care for them over any of my needs. I truly care for others more than myself most of the time anyway. I just have over analyzed some of my friends sudden silence as a sign of "hating me" so then I would just end up pushing them away regardless.

So here is what I am trying to say:

I am sad because I think things are changing in areas that I didn't want to change, and I will miss that. I also struggle still with flashbacks and urges that I must keep in check by utilizing my skills and therapist. None of these things mean I am failing though, because I am actively trying to mend these parts of my life. 

If anything, I am stronger now admitting that I am still working hard at becoming whole, than when I was pushing down my trauma for all those years, pretending I was solid.

Really, I'm Okay: The Borderline and the Relationship

It has been over two weeks since my last session with my therapist (she was on vacation), and up until last evening, I was doing fabulous. It might seem odd that I am feeling a sense of withdrawal, but let me tell you, individual therapy is critical for Borderline. In the early stages of treatment, when a sense of abandonment is rather prominent, being without that checkpoint each week can really throw my sense of mental balance.

Somehow, despite being physically ill, and being tossed a plethora of emotional hurdles, I have been floating high. Part of it may have to do with being included in RAINN's Survivor Spotlight Series, which brought some exposure to my cause in being an advocate through my blogging and music. Another part may be because I have had a lot of musical projects to work on, keeping me happy and busy.

I was able to "radically accept" many difficult road blocks that were thrown in my path, but there came a few points where my vulnerabilities proved me wrong. I'd like to believe that being sick, combined with the exhausting life of a stay-at-home mother, is what led me to break down. I am lucky that my husband was able to soak in my tears non-judgementally, especially when my therapist wasn't readily available.

One of these moments was due to a sense of structure being broken down. I am the type of person that if I have plans, and I am rather excited about them, I tend to fall apart if something gets in the way of me fulfilling those plans. Granted, I have improved ten-fold with these situations since starting DBT, because I have learned a sense of flexibility I didn't have before. Yet, this particular afternoon, I was miserable from being sick, the weather was gray and wet, and I was in no mood to be disappointed.

It took all my energy not to take out my negative emotions on those who were involved with the situation and I ended up bawling over the phone to my husband. Knowing how I tend to be, instead of telling me, "You are overreacting," he validated how I was feeling, but helped me rationalize the situation, and gave me the positives. Miraculously, I started to feel better, assured my minor flub would be the only one.

Then last night hit.

You see, I have mentioned before my hatred for Summer, because of my misconnection with a lot of my friends. I have rationalized over and over to myself, "Summer means busy. Let it be. Don't worry. Eventually, you will be able to talk and see these people again!" It worked for a long time, until earlier in this week I was made aware that maybe, just maybe, I have pushed some people away, without even trying this time.

My relationships have always been rocky, and one of my biggest goals with DBT was to improve upon this, because I was sick of being the type of person that burned bridges by pushing people away.  Fear of abandonment has an interesting way of materializing with me. As soon as someone wouldn't be unresponsive, I immediately would ruminate on what I did wrong, but then get angry and just say something hurtful, so I didn't feel as hurt. This typically resulted in many friends washing their hands of me, and frankly I don't blame them.

For a while now, I have been working on this. Giving people space by not jumping to conclusions when they aren't readily available, and networking with more than a few people in order to not overly-attach to one particular person. Yet, I still think, despite my efforts, I have done something wrong. No matter what I do with some certain people, I am left out in the cold.

So last night, instead of "radically accepting" that these friendships may be over, I just lost it. I don't think I have cried that hard in a long time. Maybe it is because I poured so much trust into these newer relationships, in an effort to be vulnerable, and it has failed me. Or maybe it is because I have tried so hard to keep it together while my therapist was on vacation, that it just hurt even more when reality hit.

None of this post is to say, "Hey, I'm miserable and lonely." In fact, I am not lonely be any means. Really, I'm okay! What this post is about is recognizing that I may not be able to save every relationship in my life, regardless of the effort I put into it, and that is okay. I am at peace with it because I have so many new friends through my church that have welcomed me into their loving arms with absolutely no judgments. This is what I needed, and I am so blessed by God to have fallen into their embrace.

Just "Let it Go"

Would you believe, up until this week, I had only heard the song "Let it Go" only a couple of times? Yea, I know, disappointing right? Well I watched Frozen once, yes once. My son is just now at that age where watching animated movies over and over would be satisfying, so there really wasn't a necessity to watch it more than that one time.

Yes, it was adorable, and yes, the message was great. However, I failed to see the reason why "Let it Go" was such an amazing song.

I have a friend, who swears by the healing power of this song, and I of course rolled my eyes at the thought. As much as I love music, I get kind of turned off by songs that go viral, because they lose their sense of power. This week, "Let it Go," proved me wrong.

I was asked to perform some live music for my church's (Elevation Church) block party for West Michigan's Metro Cruise. It was kind of a last minute request, but there was some joking about me playing "Let it Go." Just to buy into their humor, and also because I knew the kids would love it, I learned the song.

When practicing a song as much as I had to for this, considering I didn't really know it well to begin with, it isn't a surprise that the lyrics started floating around in my head, and I began to relate them to my own life. I almost started crying singing it, because it resonated so strongly with me. Hear me out:

Don't let them in, don't let them see

Be the good girl you always have to be

Conceal, don't feel, don't let them know

Well, now they know!"

Let it go, let it go

Can't hold it back anymore

Let it go, let it go

Turn away and slam the door!

I don't care

What they're going to say

Let the storm rage on

Yea.

This pretty much sums up how I felt for the 18 years I was silent. I was convinced by so many people that it was better to just bottle up my trauma and toss it into the deep of an endless sea, never to be retrieved again. I had been putting on the face of someone I really wasn't for so long, and now I am free. It feels great.

I really don't care what people say by telling my story, because I know that I am helping hundreds, maybe thousands of people in the process. That is the true gift of my affliction.

I may not like it when people tell me to "let it go," because to me it sounds like, "forget about it;" however, I know now that those words sometimes means letting go of that fire inside of you...let it out...be free.