The missing pieces

So, this week is different. This week is a struggle. Up until now, I have hesitated to share the reality, my reality, of being a victim – what limbs and rocks still make me stumble on my path. Sometimes a trigger will make the last 30 years feel like 30 minutes and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. But those are the moments I’m so thankful I put my strength in Christ, because my strength is lost in those moments. My strength is gone and He reaches out.

As an advocate for victims, I participate in a number of trainings and webinars. Dealing with victims of domestic and sexual violence comes with its share of stress. But some of that stress can be decreased if we understand how violence affects a victim, both mentally and physically. And I am a big believer in trauma informed training, especially how it physically affects our brain, so I sign up for a lot of those types of webinars.

This week, I was in the middle of one of those webinars when I found myself in the midst of a panic attack. My jaw hurt, my heart was pounding, my chest hurt. I couldn't have moved from that chair even if I wanted to. The woman's voice was describing a scenario of a victim that might suffer long term brain trauma - something no one would catch on a test or an exam. It happens when victims are repeatedly hit in the head or strangled, but never tell anyone.

I could hear her words as I stared at the screen, but my limp and beaten body was laying on the landing of the basement stairs. My head pounding, not able to unscramble a thought. I could still feel the sting on my scalp where his fingers firmly gripped my hair as threw my head against the cupboard doors. It was his signature move before he tossed me down the stairs.

I don't know why this training did it to me when others have not. I've heard many survivors' stories, some have gone through much worse than me, and it's never effected me this way. I've attended trainings and heard similar theories, and never had a flashback. So, why now?

I can't answer that. But I do know why I handled it the way I did.

I let the webinar finish, then I sat there for a moment, pulled myself together, and went through the rest of my day like nothing happened. At least on the outside. Inside was a very different story. Inside, my chest still hurt, my heart was still pounding, and I was functioning on grace alone. I've had panic attacks in the past. I knew what it was and I knew why.

Don't get me wrong, I know what I should have done. I'm an advocate. My coworker is an advocate. People trained to deal with flashbacks. I should have told her what happened and taken some self-care time. But did I do that? NO! Why not? Because I don't know how.

The only one I've ever let help me is Jesus. I've confided in a few people, but Jesus is my Counselor.

AND I may have a problem when it comes to opening up...

Which is what led us to where we are today. I started this blog because I felt like God was pushing me to be open, be transparent. I think He was doing that because it's something I've ALWAYS lacked. I've always kept parts of my life hidden away, trapped deep down where no one had to deal with it. No one but me.

It's probably why I cherish my relationship with Jesus. It's the most personal relationship I have or have ever had. I talk to HIM all the time, so freely, about everything! I talk to Him when I'm cooking, I talk to Him when I'm doing laundry, I talk to Him about ideas I have for the blog or the ministry... it's a continuous conversation. It's so freeing to know He's there and that He knows everything and I don't have to hide anything - it is the most wonderful gift.

But I've never been able to do that with anyone else. No one else knows ME... knows all of me.

When I was in high school, I hid the fact that my parents drank too much from my friends. I was a master at keeping them away on Friday and Saturday nights. So by the time I was caught in the violence, keeping my life a secret, was a way of life. No one knew what was really going on in my life. I never had a mark on my face and I could fake my way through anything. If the situation called for it, I could smile after a beating, I could smile after the rape, and I could smile after a flashback. You never know what you're capable of until you feel like your life is in someone else's hands.

And I guess I just got comfortable that way... hiding the bad stuff. Even after life got good, I couldn't change that. The bad always stayed between the Lord and I. Maybe it's trust, maybe it's a boundary I can't bend, or maybe I'm broken?

I know I'm broken, but it's okay. I know the missing pieces to my puzzle are gone forever. But Jesus sees me whole. He's filled in the missing pieces with grace and mercy and love. He sees the whole picture, missing pieces and all. And He's teaching me to let go of my secrets. So, four days, many tears, two migraines, and one Wonderful Counselor later... I'm sharing, I'm letting go of another secret. This one was buried pretty deep. We've been at this 5 months now. Maybe I'm starting to get the hang of it.

Isaiah 9:6 NIV For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.