I have always had a heart for injustice. Watching someone be forced into a situation where they feel less than, defeated, or mistreated never fails to get my blood pumping and my passion flowing. I know that I am not alone in this, as many people in the world are filled with the same passion as me. I also know that I am not alone in the fact that many of us passionate souls are not as great of fighters for ourselves. We tend to want to liberate and save the people around us while we go back to closed doors where we fall down and sink into our own realities: maybe we hate seeing others be a victim, because we are one ourselves. We don’t feel worth saving, loving, and wanting. The painful memories of hurtful words, fierce grips on our body, and repeated abandonment in our lives have left us feeling handicapped.
I am going through a season of feeling handicapped. I think what hurts the most is the fact that this season comes after a season of feeling like I had overcome depression, experienced the fullness of grace, and saw the purpose behind my painful past. A couple weeks ago, I saw my life fall apart again. I felt depression and anxiety creep back in all its painful darkness, I saw what I thought I knew shatter before me, and I realized more than ever: marriage is hard, my family is broken, and I felt like a victim again.
I am opening up about all of this because depression festers when it is not brought into the light. I believe the pain I am going through has purpose even when I can’t see it, feel it, or touch it. I believe that someone out there is experiencing the same feelings as me. I believe we can inspire, uplift, and support each other.
Sunday night I experienced one of the worst panic attacks I have ever had. It lasted a long time as the painful words I had just heard repeated in my head, unable to escape me. I couldn’t speak. I just shook over and over again. I wept. My throat felt like it was closing in. I wanted to give up on everything.
I think a lot of people view me as strong, fearless, and the “A-little-too-optimistic-for-me” type of person. Maybe this is why I feel so embarrassed to reveal the damaged parts of me, the parts of me that don’t feel optimistic, the parts of me that yell at God, and the parts of me that quiver in the corner of a bathroom.
Within the past couple weeks I discovered my husband’s struggle with porn was more than I could bear, my siblings were falling apart, and my parent’s divorce was getting to be more than I could handle. I flew up to Oregon a couple weeks ago to get support from friends that know how to love me well, not realizing that I would face my childhood fears again. It all exploded. I yelled at God. I lost all hope for my life. On my flight back to San Diego a few days ago, I wrote this in my journal:
I feel discouraged, beat down, and left to fend for myself with no resources. I desire to be loved, desired, and understood. I feel as though life has hit a wall for me. I long to write a book about overcoming depression, yet it seems to have taken hold of me once again. I long to write the chapter about my relationship with my dad being restored, yet it is destroyed again. I long to write about choosing joy, but I don’t think I can anymore.
I want to give up. I want God to snatch me away and help me believe that I am worth something. I feel worthless. I feel alone. I feel like no one outside of God will truly love me purely and passionately.
I hate feeling this way. Where is that motivational speaker now?
I can’t seem to find her.
The rollercoaster of life seems to have taken a toll on my body. I can’t find rest.
My heart feels like goop, escaping through my finger cracks. I don’t feel like a warrior. I feel like a victim.
Beat down with words, unfaithfulness, and anger.
“I hate you,” repeats in my head, beating me down.
“you always run away” “you’re a liar” “you’re too emotional”
“it’s always about you, isn’t it?”
The people who are supposed to love me the most, have taken from me the most sacred parts of me. They awaken me to realities in life. They rob me of joy and peace.
The inside of me hides in a dark corner, praying no one will find me.
“I always have problems.”
Oh, I feel like a burden carrying a burden.
I want to feel safe. I want to feel special. I want to feel like me.
Guess what the outside of my journal says?
Ironic. I know. Guess what though? Behind every dreamer is the view of all the mountains they have climbed. We just can’t judge a book by its cover. We have to realize in the moments we may feel jealous of someone’s life that they probably have been through more pain than we know. It is possible to allow our sufferings to birth unexplainable joy that changes the world.
I shared some really bare parts of my heart in the journal entry because I believe we all have moments where we are confused about life, feel like giving up, and are scared we have been abandoned.
In the past few days, I have come to the understanding that I crave tangible love. I like love that I can touch, feel, and see. God keeps asking me this question, “Is My love enough for you?”
Sometimes I yell, “NO!” because I just can’t accept His love that is so hard for me to comprehend. He is teaching me that His love is the only love that will be constant, never-failing, and overflowing. It is just hard to digest that some days.
I don’t want to be a victim anymore. I don’t want to view myself as a victim anymore. I want to go from victim to VICTORIOUS. How am I going to do that?
- Well, I am going to hang tightly to the close friends God has blessed me with. They love me well and know how to cry with me and encourage. I am not alone.
- I am also going to join a kick-boxing place in a couple weeks, because I am going to learn how to not view myself as a victim and I want to do that in a healthy atmosphere. I want to work through those insecurities and lean on God when my physical body feels like giving up.
- I am going to dig deep into God’s truth every day. I will be honest with Him when I am struggling with accepting His love. I will give myself grace and allow Him to pour grace over me in moments when I can’t find it.
God uses our stories. He uses our pain. No one is perfect, everyone has scars and even open wounds. I believe you can be victorious. WE can be victorious.
“Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? As it is written:‘For your sake we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.’ No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.” Romans 8:35-37
What are you going to do to go from victim to victorious??