| I have been to a place where I never thought I would be. As a teenager, living in a home of dysfunction and abuse, it would have made more sense than it does to me now. You see, I became a Christian in 1992, and have been trying to live a better life, trying to overcome the things of my past that have haunted me or affected my adult life and my way of thinking. For years, I have been in and out of counseling, and off and on antidepressants, hoping for the day when I could become a mature Christian "having it all together". Since my husband retired from the navy, and we've settled in his home state of Arkansas, it seems we've had nothing but bad luck. I haven't found a church home, and he has finally begun attending church, but I am not comfortable in his particular church of choice. Lately, my job has kept me from being free to go to any church except on Sunday nights, and many times I would be asleep, and no one would wake me in time to go. I have been reading the Bible online and listening to preaching online, such as Michael Youssef, Joyce Meyer, Charles Stanley, David Jeremiah, Adrian Rogers etc... And when I am just chillin' and playing games or working on this site, I listen to Christian music, rarely anything different. I really do love God, and hearing His Word through the Bible, preaching and music means a lot to me, and brings me comfort. It seems our trials have greatly intensified the last couple years, and I don't have all the answers. I know Who has the answers, but in my humanity, I fail to take these things to God, for days at a time. I get mad at myself, and I will finally get plugged back in, until the next wave of trouble hits my shore, then I find myself back in the same place, wondering why I didn't look to Jesus instead of my troubles. Many times I have found myself driving to or from work, and my eyes will see a bridge, and in my mind, I think, there's my chance to get it all over with, or I'll be daring someone to cross the yellow line. I don't like thinking this way, and I've found myself thinking these thoughts more and more often. Oh, and I've been in counseling pretty often for the past six months. About two weeks ago, I told my psychiatrist, that I was beginning to have these thoughts more than before, and I was feeling that I couldn't take anymore. He was very sensitive to my concerns, and helped me focus on some temporary goals. Well, another group of waves came and took away my focus, my hope, my little castle in the sand. I found myself in tears, and knowing that I had three choices before me... one was to give in to my thoughts and leave my 11 year old daughter, my husband, and my mom with a horrible situation and hurt, and I'd be giving up on God... the next was to abandon everything and everyone and run far far away, but I love my family and God only knows what that would solve... finally, I had promised my psychiatrist that I would go to the emergency room and ask for help, admitting how bad my thoughts had become. I was scared, because I didn't know what to expect, and since I work at the hospital, and I was afraid my co-workers would treat me different. My trip to the emergency room led me to a journey to somewhere I've never been before. Upon entering this place, I sensed it would be like jail, locked doors, constant supervision, and all I got to keep with me was my Bible and pictures of my family. I kept thinking, I didn't do anything wrong. I was fearful, as I observed the people who I'd be staying with. I found myself rushed through this admission process. I tried really hard to give the nurses the benefit of the doubt that they must have had a tough day or had a bunch of other things to do. It wasn't long, before I became angry at them, because they were going through my stuff out of my view and there was some goofing off by the tech, in the vicinity. I'd signed a consent for search, upon arrival that I'd noted, in my mind, the word on that paper, "dignity". I stood and asked that they do this search in my view. I was quickly told that I had to sit. I protested that this was not being done in a dignified manner. By the time this admission was complete, it was clear that we had hit some raw nerves between myself and the staff. Since I work nights, I was up early, the next morning, and I told the next shift that I'd had a bad experience with check in and I wanted to file a complaint, and I did. I was fortunate to have a roommate that I felt comfortable with, and we got along great. I spent most of my time getting to know and observing the other patients. Many had complaints about being treated in a condescending manner, and their requests being mostly put off or disregarded. I could easily relate, as I found the same things happening to me. I was assigned a psychiatrist who came across, to me, as uncaring and he decided that my main issue was the need to lose wieght. I tried to explain that there were issues behind the weight that needed addressing, and instead, he ordered a diet, and I was denied the opportunity to have my daughter visit. I was crushed. Not everything was bad. I saw that I was in a situation with real people who were painfully struggling with life, perhaps they'd treated themselves more harshly than I had, but nethertheless, living breathing people who needed to know they were they were loved, they were special, and their lives were not over, and nor was the opportunity to start over gone. I found myself listening, trying to encourage and offer love to many. Group was the hardest time for me, as I have never really learned trust in my life. On the outside, it seemed I was doing well, but inside I was a bundle of nerves. I have never felt like I belonged or deserved to be included with others. After group, I just went to my room and cried. Then my therapist said I need to participate and share something painful in my life with the group. OUCH!!! I went through it though the next day. I was even more nervious, and immediately after, I retreated to my room once again. My roommate was there before I could even sart the tears. She was saying that I did great, and no one went into shock as I shared the pain of being sexually abused as a child, and how it still haunted me today, and she related to me an experience of her own and left the room. I began to think, I don't want to face anyone now, but I will be brave and get back out into the lobby and see what would happen. I got a few hugs, and some began to open up to me that had been really quiet before. In myself, I'd faced my fears, and I think that this group experience was more help for me than anything else that could occur at that place. |
| THREE DAYS |