After much prayer and soul searching, I have finally figured out how to continue my Hell and Back blogs. I am going to summarize the "Hell" and give much detail on the "Back" part. I canceled this series of blogs earlier because I was on the brink of telling the story between 1970 and 2000. The thirty years of Hell. I am anxious now even typing about it and realizing that it was 30 years. That is a very long time. I want you to know that there are some really positive experiences and relationships in the midst of the Hell. I truly believe that those positive experiences and loving relationships are the only reason that I am "Back" and am able to type this to you. I can see God's hand in all aspects of Hell to shape me into who I am today and who I am still to become. OK, prayer, deep breath, heart pounding, here we go.
First the facts. My Momma died September 1969. There is a big black hole in my memory from the day that the ambulance took her until Christmas Eve 1969 when my Dad brought a lady to the house and told us she was going to be our new Mom. They were married February 14, 1970. She and her three sons came to live with us. Our family was expanded to six children, 2 girls, 4 boys. Our ages were 6,7,8,9,11,13. We became a blended family.
My Momma's mother that we called Mama (pronounced Meh mah) and stepfather Papa lived next door, actually about 100 yards away. It was God's amazing grace that they lived next door to us. They were God's gift and the grace God had to have us remain living there helped me know there was love in the world. There are good memories with my family like many vacations, showing livestock and being in 4-H, riding horses with my sister, cousins and friend, playing with my siblings and playing with my cousins.
I went to college and had 4 years that were a welcome respite from the Hell of home. I had a boyfriend, Brett, who was the rock of my life and outside of Will is still my best-friend. I had fabulous roommates but often our living situation resembled an episode of "The Real Housewives of....." I was not saved, not a Christian. I was severely dysfunctional and damaged and I did many many things to my boyfriend, roommates and friends that I will be eternally sorry for. I wish I could have that time back as the person that I am now and could take back the hurt that I caused people that I still love. Mikki, Jan, Karen and Brett if I hurt you, I am so very sorry. I know that I did hurt you and I really have deep regrets for my own behaviors. I got married when I was 25. I lived in his house 12 years. I left him February 21, 2000. That's the 30 years.....and 7 days.
I do not want to detail these 30 years. I am not able to in this media. I want though to describe in general some of the things that happened in that 30 years that caused deep damage to me emotionally and psychologically.
There was binge alcoholism in our family. There was mental abuse and physical abuse in our family and in my marriage. There was conditional love in our family and in my marriage. There was triangulation in our family (explained later). There was deception and betrayal in our family and in my marriage. We were never allowed to appropriately grieve the death of our Momma. I was bulimic for 28 years. There was severe manipulation and control in our family and in my marriage.
You might be noticing many of the same things occurred in my family as did in my marriage. I did not consciously seek a husband that was like my father but the person that my father had raised me to be attracted that man.
I was a compliant avoidant from a very early age. I strived to be accepted. I needed to be a caretaker and a peacemaker. I thought in my ill-equipped mind that if I could be perfect i.e. self-sufficient, smart, skinny, funny, charming, athletic, hard-working, a great cook, obedient, and/or out of the way, life would be good. I learned to be a chameleon to please everyone. I had an ugly streak though and if I drank (which I did) and was a little depressed before drinking, I could be vicious.
I learned by experiencing criticism and rejection from family and husband that my emotional needs were unimportant and were signs of weakness. I stuffed my needs, my emotions and put on the happy face. The happy face is a common characteristic of adult survivors of alcoholic or abusive parents. I learned to be a skilled liar. I learned that I did not matter and was not ever going to matter. I over-extended myself constantly by promising lots more than I could deliver and ended up breaking promises often. In other words, I was someone that no one would want to be in a relationship with. At first, I was perfect because I was a pleaser but unless the other person was a taker or control freak, the dynamic didn't work. Reaching into my soul was like reaching into a black hole. When I was 12, my Dad told me that I had better develop a great personality because I am not pretty and I developed a personality that pleased whoever I was with.
In the midst of the 30 years, I was at rock-bottom as a result of the extreme abuse in my marriage and because of a lifetime of emotional damage. I accepted Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior and was saved. I was 30. Everything began to change at that very moment. Everything externally was still Hell but the Holy Spirit dwelling within me and my study of the bible was keeping me alive and hopeful. As I studied the bible, I realized that I could not change my husband so I would ask God to help me change. I actually was still being a compliant at the time. I was asking God to help me become more lovable to my husband and to keep me alive and help me to survive until he loved me. The Lord did amazing things. I can still remember exactly where I was sitting and where in the Bible I read and was inspired by the Holy Spirit to accept responsibility for who I was and I could see for the first time who God wanted me to be. I had so far to go though. So very far.......
I was growing and changing. I was learning that He was an amazing, awesome God and He loved me.....He loved me......He loved me.....He loved me so much He died for me. I was created by God. God was perfect. God chose me to be saved and have eternal life. God doesn't make mistakes. If I tied all of these things together........dare I think it?.....No, I don't dare, but...........do I dare? Oh wow, if God created me, loves me, chose me, died for me and He is perfect and doesn't make mistakes, does that mean I am worth loving? No, it's too hard to hope for that. I could not handle being wrong about this.......
In time, I started to have a little courage and took baby steps of belief. I started out by praying that God would let me hear His Words as true and Satan's Words as false. I prayed that when someone was critical of me that I would be able to distinguish what was true and what was false. God opened my ears, my mind and my heart to the truth. He taught me that it isn't what comes goes into a person's mouth that defiles them but it was what comes out of someone's mouth that defiles them. Wow, what a thought, I could ask God to put a guard over my mouth so that I did not continue to hurt others and I could avoid taking other people's cruel, untrue, manipulative messages to heart. Life changing epiphany.
One evening, I was in my office and my husband came into my office. We had a confrontation and he slugged me in the face. I fell backwards against my computer cabinet and as I opened my eyes, I could see the shock in his eyes. He spun and turned around and left the office. I had recently adopted a dog from a friend. Her blessed name was Libby and she was the perfect dog, a Westie. When I called him a few hours later and told him I was leaving him, he told me that I was not going to be allowed to take anything out of the house except my dog (whose throat he would cut if I left her there) and my laptop computer. I had three suits at the dry cleaners and that was that. I spent that night in a hotel afraid that I was going to go to jail for sneaking my little dog Libby in. You know me, never break a stinking rule. I did not sleep that night. I had no where to live. I had nothing. I did not believe in divorce. No one in my family had ever been separated or divorced. I was so ashamed. In my desire to please everyone, I was the biggest failure.
I remembered about 5 am that my grandparents had left us property on the street where I had been safe until I was 7 and there was an old quanset hut that was on one of the properties next door to where my dear brother and sister-in-law and their children lived. I did not know if it was still standing. I did not know if it was rented out. I called my brother at work and I will never forget the sound of his voice when I said "Allan?". I am not a morning person, in fact, I have always been a VERY BAD morning person. His voice registered dread and fear because something very terrible had to have happened for me to be calling him at 5 am. I told him I had left my husband and had nothing but my dog, my computer and 3 suits and wanted to know if the quanset hut was empty and if so, was it habitable. He said that it was funny I should ask because he and Jennifer had been to check on it and it was not terribly bad.
I said "ok, I am seeing clients all day today". I was an accountant and I was in the height of income tax season. I said that it would be late but I would be over there and would sleep on the floor until I was off on Sunday and could go get something to get started. I asked him not to tell anyone in the family. I was afraid of disapproval and reproach especially from my sister who was a devout Christian and was very opposed to divorce. Two hours later, my office phone rang and my sister said "Trace?......" I was so scared in that moment, literally trembling because I did not know what she was going to say, but in the most loving, accepting voice, she said, "Allan called me and told me what happened. Ron (her husband) and the kids and I are going to meet Allan and Jennifer at the quanset hut and we are going to clean it and there is a bed and bedding and towels that Mama and Papa left and don't worry about anything, we will take care of everything."
I did not know the magnitude of gratefulness that I felt, I think I was in shock until I got off work and went to the quanset hut. It was dark, Libby and I were alone. We walked into that precious little place and there was a rocking chair, a bookshelf, a comfy bed, a dining table, towels, dishes, pots and pans, even soap and paper towels and toilet paper. I wept.....as I am weeping remembering it. After weeping, I walked outside and sat down on a stump. Every smell and sound was familiar. This street was the only place that I have ever been safe in my life. I had been born on this dead end wonderful blessed street and had lived there those first 7 years and also the next 8. I was home again. The smells were so familiar and the old oil pumping unit was making the same sounds it had made when I was 6 years old. God had me in His right hand and I could feel His hand in making everything work together for good. I was on the road to "Back".....Mohawk Road.........
to be continued
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