Out Of Order

But Jesus still wants me I have many cracks. I worry about everything. I judge myself and sometimes others. I try to be perfect. I struggle with boundary setting. I have yet to master handling my anger in a Godly way. I'm in an abusive relationship which I'm sorta okay with. I hide insecurities by focusing on others. I hide pain by focusing on others. I doubt my salvation and fear I am just pretending. I doubt how I can still be used by God. I find it hard to forgive. I have endless fear induced obsessions. I don't see my worth and I receive God's love to an extent. Sometimes, I just don't care about doing right. I have a tendency to nurse a grudge like a sick toddler. I think the worst of myself and sometimes I think the worst of others. It's hard for me to commit to living by The Love Chapter (1st Corinthians 13). But Jesus still wants me. I give others advice that I myself find a daunting, excruciating task. Sometimes I use words which others might co

  The Honest Truth Oh boy... This is something I have been feeling since... for a long time. But it's so much easier to write instead of say. Don't misunderstand me, I'm not saying that I don't need God. HA! I need Jesus every single day of my life. The sole reason I am still alive is because of Him... What I  am saying is that I am perfectly fine. With Ed, I mean. So I don't need prayer. I really don't. You can pray for me about everything else. But not about this . Why not ? Simple. Because I'm fine. I'm really not that sick. I understand the disagreement between these words and previous ones but I am okay. I was contacted by the Frew last week and it's like they have this radar. This "sick" sense . But I don't know why they called me because I was never really sick to begin with. I'm fine. I was fine then and I'm fine now . Please understand, I'm not trying to be stubborn or difficult... I just... I don't

But which way do I go Let me start by sharing my immense excitement over this past week. So, per the request of my Pastors, I was invited to share an original poem this past Sunday. I was so excited to do so and God gave me one that same week, the night I was asked, I think. Our series is called God is in This  (which you can hear via podcast by pressing on it), and it chronicles Joseph's life as he went from being a favorite child to being a prisoner to being a ruler. The message on Sunday was amazing and I was so honored to have been able to share my poem, entitled Providence . You see, the series is all about how God was with Joseph throughout every instance in his life and how He still worked things out for his good. And that's what He does in our lives. He provides for us even during the storms. And I was extremely happy to be able to write a poem which could relate to our theme of God's provision. It was amazing sharing it and I finally felt like I belonged in a

  What does that even mean? I remember being late one day for a therapy appointment. I was berating and condemning myself for screwing up so badly and was fearing that my therapist probably thought of me as a late person. And I'm not a late person. But she wouldn't know that because here I am showing up late to her office. When I finally got inside and we met up, of course I began to apologize and felt shame come over me but then she said something which grabbed my attention by the tatas. "It's okay, you're allowed to be late. You're human." Needless to say but I'll say it anyway, my mind was blown. I really don't remember ever being given permission to be late, which means being human, which means... *gasp*... not being perfect. I sort of short circuited after she said that. I'm allowed to be late? I'm allowed to not be perfect? This was and still is a strange concept but I'm trying to understand it more and more. I expressed

What to do If you are a support for someone with a mental illness of any kind, you have probably been told numerous times what not to do when dealing with that person. But often, there is little clarity in what we should do. It can be draining and incredibly time consuming caring for a loved one who suffers mentally and I can imagine that constantly hearing "No, don't do this. Don't do that! " would become frustrating. You can begin to feel helpless and even hopeless that they will ever get well again. Now, I will never attempt to speak for everyone, but this is what  I would find beneficial. You are not alone ... Just like the picture up there states, remind me that I am not alone. That no matter how separated from others my illness makes me feel at times, you are here supporting me and I am never alone. Give me a hug or cry with me. Let me know that you are aware of me and what weighs on me. Acceptance ... One of the worst feelings for me is having som

Awareness Feet in my chair, knees against my chest, I must have sat like that for the longest time before starting this post. I take long, hateful glances at the uneaten cereal, which has been sitting on my desk for at least 20 min, as if it has offended me in some way. Well, I do find its presence awful. My jaw is clenched and tears are hiding behind my eyes, waiting for the right moment to fall. There is a deep and heavy anger inside of me. I can't put off eating much longer. The first bite down, tears still hiding. A few more spoonfuls. I loathe it. How many more until the bowl is empty? Sit. Take a break . The letters on my keyboard look distorted through my welling tears. One slides down my cheek. I want to get back into bed. But I also want to get things done. Is the monster of depression feeding on me again, because I'm starting to feel listless. Please, leave me alone. I have work to do. I have to finish eating. I take several more bites while reading over all tha

**Before I continue, I want to share my motives for posting this. I thought it would be interesting to share what it's like having an eating disorder on good days . So often eating disorders are viewed only in relation to the trouble in one's life but they exist even when things are going well. With that being said, they are still life threatening and excruciating which is why I have the above picture up. Whether I am having a good day or not, my eating disorder is still loud and abrasive because that is its very nature. Please also be aware that this post may be triggering if you have an eating disorder. Read with caution. For best viewing of this post, please read it on your phone, as the fonts are different and won't show on a computer. A Fella Named Ed Sometimes I just don't need to eat, according to my abuser, I mean friend. Even if I'm having a great day, even if nothing scary or bad or worrisome has happened. "You don't need anything right

Sometimes it stings One of my favorite movies is Good Will Hunting because c'mon, who doesn't like that movie? Robin Williams and Matt Damon were outstanding; it is a beautifully written film! If you've seen it, I'm sure you remember that scene in which Robin's character, Sean, was repeating to Will that "it wasn't his fault" and how the more Will heard it, the more he began to pull away until eventually, he broke down in the doctor's arms. Here's a refresher (and some tissues) just in case... Oh, wow. This right here. I can identify with this so much. As desperate as Will was to hear that all the years of abuse he suffered at his father's hands was not his fault, when he finally heard it, it was too much. It hurt to hear. That's what my interpretation of this scene is anyway. How many of us are so desperate for love that when we finally get it, we pull away? Isn't the mind and how it works incredible? This is where I am, wit

New inspiration So today I went to my old job for a visit and saw some of the kids I used to teach. It was great and I missed them so much! They made their affection towards me clear through hugs and shared stickers and drawings! After my visit, I went over to the library to work on my writing pieces for my portfolio portion of my college application to the University of the Arts for the fall Semester (that was a mouthful). I'm still at the library now and it's super cold, which made it difficult for me to work. I hate the cold, it's my one and only Kryptonite. I closed out what I was doing on my laptop and started to peruse the aisles for interesting books. I found three, which I can't wait to begin, and sat back in my spot. Then it dawned on me, I'm at the library, not at home. My usual writing scene is either my bedroom or my living room and I'm not saying that's a bad thing but how fresh it is to be able to write in a different location! My inspirat

The one about PMDD ** I'm in a rambling mood so please bare with me if this post is ridiculously long or just plain unintelligible. Also, please check out the links I will have listed at the very bottom for more info on PMDD, especially if you think you or a loved one may have it. The sites are very insightful ... Sorry about that.** Since I missed work today because of it, I figured this would be a great time to shed some light on this monster. PMDD stands for Pre menstrual dysphoric disorder or as some of us women refer to it, Pure Insanity. It has a tendency to resemble Bi-Polar disorder and can often go misdiagnosed although, if you think you may have either or both of these illnesses, please talk to someone you trust about it and reach out to a professional. PMS on steroids is how some sites explaining the disorder describe it. PMDD is a mental illness affecting about 8-10% of women around or during their menstrual cycles. It is not a simple case of PMS. It's horrend