My Exodus...part 1

I remember being told that my books would cost over $300; I had no idea that it would be that much. Without hesitating, my brother-in-law reached into his wallet and pulled his credit card out to pay for my books. I couldn’t help but cry. All though I was older than the typical freshman, I was still so clueless on how the whole college thing worked. Later I would be advised to order them on line or not buy them at all. The first night was the most difficult. As I lay in my bare room with another stranger across from me, I thought, this is it, I made it, I made it! I didn’t go to a fall preview or schedule a visit; I just applied because I knew some cool people that went there. Because of those connections, I easily merged into the social settings and felt that I belonged again. My first semester was beautiful; I made friends, joined groups and found a job. I applied to be a Resident Assistant for the next year because I wanted to be like my brother.
Once I found out I got the job I couldn’t wait to come back and start this new adventure. The only obstacle in my way was a summer camp in Michigan. I applied there so I could challenge myself to something new. That was my ‘honeymoon’ summer with God. I forced myself into an unknown area, with strangers and was 6 hours from home. Although I cried the whole way there and even wet my pants out of nerves; that summer is one of my fondest experiences!
As I cried my way home at the end of that summer, I was already planning out the fall semester. I took on garbage duty, became an AmeriCorps volunteer and a resident assistant. While I struggled to find a balance between being a student, paying bills and all the previously mentioned roles; I promised myself no matter how difficult things get I must push through this. So I did. I begin scheduling my days so that every minute was accounted for, even taking a shower. I didn’t stop, I couldn’t stop, I had to keep to all together and prove I was capable of doing it all with a smile on my face. By April of that year I was ready for a break but I had already begun having meetings for summer camp; there would be NO break.
Pine Springs Camp wasn’t a summer time job to me; it was my home. This is where I’d run to when I needed to be close to God, this is where I felt safe. I was so honored to be the waterfront coordinator for that summer. I had looked up to the previous leaders and now I had taken on that role, what a task. To say that summer was horrible is far from the truth, to say it was a good experience would also be a lie. That summer had many issues before any summer staff arrived and because I still love that place I will skip the details of that. I can say that I was overworked, manipulated and hurt by knowing things I shouldn’t have known. Looking back I feel horrible for not being there for the lifeguards; I had allowed the horrible way I was treated to affect them. Just so that I’m being clear, my griefs of that summer are no longer ‘in charge’ of camp. That being said, I can admit I didn’t always handle things in the correct way, I made mistakes but I never meant to hurt anyone’s feelings. I often wish I could return to that summer and re-due so many things, but life is a journey we must learn and move on.
After a brutal summer and still no break, I returned to Waynesburg exhausted. I added to my list, dishwashing duty and youth group. The new job gave me more hours so I could pay for a trip I wanted to take in December. My planner was packed more than the previous year; I had more meetings, events, papers to write and bills to pay. By the time Thanksgiving break came, I was thankful to have a change in pace from my crazy schedule; a laid back mission trip to Jamaica was greatly needed. After Jamaica, I was thankful that I only had a few weeks of that semester to go and only a month before I would take the trip that changed my life.
Kazakhstan was my friend’s idea; I just tagged along so I could get started my ‘see the whole world’ dream. As mysterious as God works, that trip and my friend were used to begin a process that has taken the last 3 years to complete. With no meetings to run to, deadlines to meet or family to hang with, I faced my worst fear; hurt and brokenness. The endless time of just ‘being still’ was eating me alive; all of my past pains came rushing up. I spent the better part of 3 +years staying busy so I didn’t have to think about how hurt I really was. Now I came to a place where my only option was free time; with a friend that asked simple questions with no simple answers. I was beginning to lose control of life as I knew it because these hurtful memories weren’t part of my plan. Coming back to Waynesburg was bittersweet. I was able to start up my ridiculous routine yet now I had some extra things to juggle; and I knew that it might break me. Every day that semester I lost more control and I had more memories return. I was unraveling and it was a mess. As it would be, I choose to stay in Waynesburg that summer so I could simply ‘take a break’ and get refocused. God had other plans.
*deep breath*
I don’t talk about this summer a lot; I’m scared to share it but I know that the truth will set me free. I cannot hide God’s purpose of this summer; it is the most critical part of my healing.
It started sometime in March of 2007; little things like not wanting to eat, not being able to sleep and if I did sleep I’d have nightmares or odd visions. Each day something new would happen or not happen. By the end of the semester I was emotionally, spiritually, mentally and physically dead; I had nothing left to give, I didn’t care about anyone and I hated my life. I slowly had become someone I didn’t recognize, someone who was angry all the time, some who resorted to cutting their arms to relinquish the emotional pain. I had no desire to waste my summer with a bunch of ‘free time’ that I didn’t want. I knew that something was stirring inside me and if I gave it the time it would come out; which meant losing control. As God would have it, I lost control that summer. All of the pain and hurt I held so deep within me had come to the surface, with a loud scream. I can’t begin to explain all details of that summer and honestly that is not the part that matters. What matters is He broke me and He needed to do that by any means possible. I couldn’t help but feel so ashamed of myself, I had falling apart right in front of people that I always pretended to be so strong around. I was angry that God allowed my feelings to come up and angrier that I had those memories to deal with. So while the entire summer was spent bring up all this garbage, I never really got a chance to work on getting rid of it. Before I knew it, fall classes were about to start; I was more exhausted, scared, angry and hurt then I have ever been.
Once again, I attempted to pull myself together by creating an insanely busy schedule. Only this time it back fired. I had no desire to write papers, sit in stupid meetings or toss another damn pizza. I was broken and God wasn’t about to allow the whole summer to be in vane by letting me stay busy again. So my heart turned cold, I was majorly depressed. By my birthday, I was a heartless, cold and angry person. Add to the situation, the feeling of worthlessness cause my family was dealing with other issues and didn’t celebrate my birthday. I was at the end of my robe, I hated my life, I hate God for allowing those things to happen and for allowing the pain to resurface. I felt alone is the world; I was broken, hurt individual that no one really cared about. So I had enough, I spent my life doing for everyone else, never really enjoying life. I needed to relax so I bought a bottle of rum, walked to the cemetery that was right next to the school, with the intentions of having 2 shots then going out with a friend. Well the 2 shots ended up being the whole bottle in 2 hours. Needless today I was trashed and venting to a tombstone about my life. At some point I called my biological mother to tell her off, which she called the police saying I was going to kill myself. So the police came and arrested me. I spent a night in jail (which isn’t on record cause they ‘accidently’ lost my paper work) followed by a psychological exam at the hospital and a forced 302 on myself cause of lynn’s false claims.
After returning from my 48 hour visit of the nut ward, I came back to Waynesburg to find out I lost my RA job and respect of the college. I was so hurt by that I became even more bitter and cold. ‘I had giving them so much and in one mistake, they turned on me’. I dropped out of school, returned to an unwelcoming home. I wanted to die and I hated God more than ever. I worked a horrible job for 3 months, when I was approached to be a manager for Chuck E. Cheese. Maybe things were starting to look up, after all I managed to bury my feelings again. Spring of 2008 I managed at CEC, took classes at community college and got my own place. I wasn’t as bitter nor was I anywhere near wanting to deal with God, lukewarm is the word to use here I believe.
I figured I should mend my mistakes at Waynesburg and finish out my last year there. Up to this point I still didn’t make time for me, I continued to keep busy no matter what. I had gone to counseling in spring but as quickly as it started to heal me, I quickly pushed it all down again. So in comes the booked schedule; drive over an hour to Waynesburg, sit thru classes, rush back to Greensburg so I could work my closing shift. I quit my job because I had enough money to support myself until I finished school. Life was just too crazy otherwise. While I was completely committed in finishing school, I was not the ‘strong’ person I use to be. I no longer would put up with people’s rude attitudes or push through difficult times; rather I quit when it got hard and walked away when they were mean. I didn’t care who I hurt or what people thought. I was hurt and no one seemed to care, in fact they ‘punished me for straying’. So I gave up on wasting my time driving to a school that ‘hurt me when I was already hurting’.
I decided to travel across the US and take some me time. I was lifeless: I had no passions, no more dreams, just anger and hate. Each month went by without purpose or a job till I ran out of money. So I packed all my necessary belongs in a storage unit and left my apartment. I stayed here and there for the summer until some more money came through, then I thought of moving to Arizona. I wanted to be as far away from anyone I knew. I felt they didn’t care about me or support me so why should I stay. But as I drove to Arizona my heart started to melt, I cried real tears for the first time in a long time. I didn’t want to be alone, I didn’t want to end up like Lynn, I wanted to change everything that had happen and I wanted to start fresh. It didn’t take long for me to figure out that I shouldn’t move there. So I headed for home, stopping to see the Grand Canyon and drive through the Rocky Mountains to waste some time. I realized that I needed to be close to my family but I also need some space to really recover. For some reason I really like the Dayton/ Cincinnati area so I looked for apartments that would allow big dogs, found one and moved there.
I was super excited to get my fresh start a little closer to home but still far enough away to have space. I got Annie a few weeks after moving in and a job around the same time. I really enjoyed being a caretaker but I was back to long busy days due to the work schedule. I didn’t want that again; I wanted to work one straight shift, come home and be done with it. The truth is I was still wounded and ignoring my feelings. I quit that job in February, right when my stuffed feelings were beginning to surface again.
The reality was right in front of me; I could run from it again, stuff it in again or let it out. I let it out and I cried for days. I cannot change the last 5 years let alone the 20 before that. I cannot run from my pain, I must face it, all of it. I cannot allow the people that hurt me before to continue to hurt me, regardless if they are family. I cannot beat myself up for events that happened outside of my control OR for choices I made. I cannot hide from the truth that is my life or feel ashamed by it. But I can share my mistakes, my pains and my joys. I must share them because if I don’t the devil wins and they cycle continues. So I will shout, I will scream and I will cry out my story for all to hear, the story of God. A story of suffering, abuse, neglect, sacrifice, depression and sin. A story of love, forgiveness, kindness, mercy, grace and truth. This is my attempt to be free of the chains that have bonded me for years. This is my apology to all the people I have hurt. This is my attempt to rebuild some of the relationships that got burned in all this. I will not cave, I will not back down but I need help. And that help can only begin by me being open and honest.