Chains

Chains. We all have them. Each and everyone of us has or has had something at some point that bound us and kept us from joy. This week I've been reminded over and over again how important it is to remember that joy and gratitude can overcome a multitude of fear. That has never been an easy concept for me, and I feel I will grapple with it forever. When we hit a low it is so easy to be engulfed in the dark that we tend to forget about the things that we have to be grateful for. 

This week was a difficult one for me on a very personal level. I made a decision long ago that had finally caught up with me and instead of facing it head on I tried to avoid it. Doing so only filled me with immense feelings of guilt and shame, and when I feel that overwhelming guilt and shame I am incredibly tempted to punish myself in some way. I slid backwards this week, and I'm not proud, but I learned some things along the way that I think are important.

Isolation is never a healthy way to deal with the hardships life throws at you. My punishment was to completely isolate myself from people that I convinced myself didn't want me around anyway. This was so far from the truth. When I finally allowed myself to open up to these people who have shown time and time again that they care for me, I realized I had the blessing of being surrounded by people I could be 100% real with. Our conversations were filled with raw emotion, and they reminded me that I have things to be grateful for even in the midst of my mistakes.

I have chains. Sometimes I feel like they're broken and disappear, and other times I feel like they have a way of finding their way back and coiling around my wrists. Y'all. Those are some of the loneliest times where I wish I could call for help, but also manage to feel stifled. Some of you know that last year was very difficult for me and I had a hard time pinpointing why. Things were unclear constantly and my moods were a roller coaster. People were worried, I isolated myself like I'm so good at. I was selfish with my time and my entire life spun out of control. I screamed for help, but was never able to communicate clearly exactly what I needed. I was in the dark and I started to let it consume my soul. Even though I was surrounded by so many people supporting me, it was one of the loneliest times in my life. 

When I had that difficult moment this week it scared me. But as I talked it out it got better. I heard a sermon today that solidified the new attitude I'm trying to adopt when it comes to dealing with my chains. I will continue to look for joy in the midst of my storms. I will use what I struggle with to show others the live I've been shown. I am stronger than I feel, and one bad day cannot and will not define me.

Part of our problem, I think, is the internal scars we try to push out of our minds. Old wounds have found a way of trying to come back. It aches. I try everything I can to make it go away. My past so often fills me with shame when those wounds try to resurface. My rape, depression, pushing my support away, the terrible thoughts I have had about myself. I let the memories and hurt and shame reconsume me. But no more. I refuse to let that set me back ever again. The past is the past and I am who I am because of it.

I write this not because I'm upset, but because I have realized that daily I need to start choosing joy to break free from my chains. I know there are others out there right now dealing with guilt, shame, a past and I tell you friends, it is going to be ok. You are loved, scars and all. The world wouldn't be quite the same without you and what you bring to it. You are more than your past. You are more than your guilt. You are more than your shame. 

Choose joy, sweet friends. Today let's all choose joy and remember what we can be grateful for. 

Limits

Limits.

We all have them, and sometimes we like to test them.

I'm learning right now that my limits need to be fine tuned and don't always match up with what I think I can tolerate. I've always had a larger than life attitude, and in turn have ignored limits. A girl like me doesn't have limits, right? Wrong. The past few months have brought so much change, struggle, and the knowledge that I have (and need to possess) limitations.

Having a "go, go, go" personality makes it really hard to place limits on yourself. I have a need to be in constant motion. So much so that I forget that I also need rest. There was a week during Christmas break where I scheduled something every day of the week. There was no break, there was no time to rest. Know what the outcome was? I had a complete mental breakdown. There were tears and frustration. My mom had to come stay with me. I was a complete mess. All because I didn't give myself a chance to rest. Dedicating a day out of my weekend where I don't feel obligated to get out of the house and do something is really hard for me, yet has become a necessity.  Sleeping 8+ hours a night is a feat I am trying to concur. More than 6 hours a night used to be pushing it, and I'm now realizing in order to function like a normal human being I need to force myself to sleep more. My body craves rest, yet my brain screams that I have to do more. I have physical limits. I need to start listening to what I need in order to thrive.

Emotional limits are also a thing. I've realized lately that I need to start drawing out some emotional boundaries. I am the type of person who hears the troubles and torment of another and will cry along with them. I will take on your emotional pain as if it were my own. Obsess over it. Pray over it. I'll even live it to a point. I learned the hard way that I cannot take on everyone else's emotional baggage.   I can still pray for you, I can still love you through your storms, but I have to build those boundaries too.  This lesson was learned the hard way when I let someone else's feelings dictate the kind of day I was going to have.  This person was so upset about something happening in their life and was telling me all about it while I listened intently trying to figure out how to help. I obsessed over this dilemma. I thought about it ceaselessly. It got to a point where I lost an entire day over this problem, only to have this friend figure it out for themselves in the meantime. I had become so transfixed on their problem that I couldn't see that it was turning into my problem when it never should have. There is no reason I couldn't walk alongside that person, but taking on their every emotion only turned me into a mess and made it impossible for me to be a help to anybody. You can't love other people well when you're spending 24 hours obsessing over how terrible their problem is.

I have never been one to have boundaries. I don't like building walls. I hate saying 'no'. Fortunately, though, I'm learning this lesson while I'm still young. I need to have boundaries. I need to limit myself.  It's ok to start saying no to opportunities. It's ok to start saying no to people. It's ok to say no to making plans, to taking on emotional baggage, and to exerting energy when my body is screaming at me to stop.  I cannot be the type of person I long to be if I can't start to learn that I have limits. I want to do my job well, I want to love the people around me well.  I want to be strong, and full of joy. The only way to do those things is with limits.

Limits don't have to be a negative thing. Boundaries are going.

Recognizing that you have limits is the healthiest thing you can do.

The Struggle of Being a Cooped Up Extrovert

First let me explain the new blog title. I am a hot mess. I embrace it, I laugh at it, I label myself as such. And that's ok. I also think my life is beautiful. A mess, but a beautiful mess. I don't want to call this blog Tales of a Survivor anymore, because I don't want to keep living in the shadow of my rape. I still deal with it, but for the most part it's in my past. I don't want to keep blogging only from a survivor perspective. I want to write about things that help you to see just ME for who I am on a daily basis. Sometimes I will post about my assault, because writing is therapeutic. But for now I'm moving slightly away from that.
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So let me get in to why I am writing tonight. Raise your hand if you're an extrovert that also needs rest, but hates being away from people, but needs a break from people, but doesn't want to be alone!  Just me? Once again, the cheese stands alone.  Y'all the struggle is so real on this very long, but much needed snow day.

First thing's first, I really needed this snow day yesterday when I was battling a stomach bug for the second time in less than a week. Who does that even happen to!? But of course it was perfect weather, and schools were still open. One day stuck in the house and in bed is one thing. It was great. I slept all day and watched Disney movies. It was the dream life. Today we have a snow day...ok, cool. Last year when I had snow days it wasn't terrible outside so I could go out to different places or at least walk around and be fine.  NOT TODAY! I watched out my bedroom window as cars slid down my unplowed, unsalted side road and thought, "this can't be good". I thought I could confine myself to my apartment, but an extrovert can only nap and watch movies for so long. I knew I wasn't going to be able to handle it two days in a row. I got up and thought I could at least take a walk. It wasn't sleeting at this point, so I should have been good to go, right?! Wrong. I had to take my trash to the dumpster first. Besides nearly dying walking down the steps outside that were coated in ice, my car slid everywhere on the extremely short trip to the next set of buildings where they hide the trash. That is when the reality of being stuck inside all day truly struck me and I panicked.

I have done everything a person can do. I binge-watched Netflix, I cleaned the apartment, played with the kitten, reorganized my bedroom, cooked everything I could think of and promptly put it all in the fridge because I'm afraid to eat anything other than crackers, read for a couple of hours. And I'm still BORED OUT OF MY MIND. I am crawling out of my skin. I crave human interaction, people! I love snow days and I am so thankful I didn't have to go to work today. But from now on I'm going to be a little more specific in my snow day prayers.  They're going to sound a lot like "Lord, please let it snow so that I don't have to work. But don't make it snow too much because I still want my friends to come over and eat Chipotle and watch movies. I just don't want to work. But I still want people. Thank you Amen."

Think it'll work? Am I being too picky? I love my snow days, but I do terribly on my own. Some of you will remember the great Twitter-fest of 2014 during the February ice storms we had. I tweeted about every crazy thought I had including a stinkbug I found, what I would do if I had a pet kangaroo, and my thoughts on how and why butter was invented. I do best when I am allowed to be near people. Not even having to do or say anything, just someone else's presence can make me feel completely calm.  I often wonder why God wired me like that, because it makes some days and experiences really frustrating and difficult.

I am the type of person that constantly craves human interaction, but needs her space, alone time, and rest. It's so strange to me to need all of those things and so desperately want them all at the exact same time.  It's impossible to rest and have alone time surrounded by people, yet in a perfect dream world that's exactly what I would be able to do. If anyone can figure out how that's possible, let me know.

Right now I am so tempted to just run to the house next door (or, rather, slide to the house next door) and ask to be friends so I have people to hang out with instead of being cooped up and unable to go anywhere. Anyone who has heard me complain about those neighbors knows that is a completely desperate thought.

How do you extroverts deal with going stir crazy!?

Depression Part II

There is one thing in the world that has the ability to absolutely get under my skin like an unwanted bug, and that thing is ignorance regarding depression. The inspiration for this post was a conversation I overheard in the doctor's office today.  The following statement is one I have heard thousands of times...

"She has nothing to be depressed about."

Folks, no one chooses depression. Depression is an illness.  An illness like any other that you would treat medically. Do people choose to have heart attacks? Do they choose to have cancer? Diabetes? Thyroid problems? No. And none of us chooses to have a mental illness either.

I've always struggled with that term 'mental illness'.  I think part of the issue is that when I have to explain that I've dealt with mental illness, I immediately brace myself to be judged and ridiculed.  Think about what you hear on the news when there's a shooting or some type of local terror act...you often hear that they suffered from mental illness.  I think we are all guilty of associating mental illness with bad people and believing that "good" people cannot suffer from the same conditions. I myself am guilty of that thought sometimes.  It isn't true, though.  Battling a mental illness doesn't make you a bad person.  Not getting help and making poor choices might lead you toward being a "bad" person, but we have to stop labeling mental illness as bad when that isn't always true.

Depression is debilitating.  It really is.  There are days that I've battled depression where I couldn't peel myself off of my bed. It was like I was glued, trapped, and helpless. There have been days where I have felt completely hopeless before. There are days I thought God had abandoned me, that He wasn't in the midst of it all trying to coax me through it.  There were days during my depression where I didn't want to keep breathing and dealing with life. I would rather sleep. Sometimes I wished I could sleep through my entire life.  It was awful. It isn't a good feeling.

People who love you will try to help and become frustrated.  You'll be frustrated. You'll be frustrated with them for being frustrated with you, and they'll be frustrated with you for being frustrated with them. It's a vicious cycle.  Depression is a time that I always figured out the people in my life who were my true support system. That's the time I found out how loved I am.  It's also the time I found out who my real friends were and weren't.  There were times my support system said and did the wrong things and I would fall deeper into a pit of emotional pain.  There are times they would say and do the right thing and I would pull back out of it for a time. It's complicated, and beautiful, and frustrating, and awful all at the same time.

It's funny, sometimes, how we are finally able to pull out of our depression. One time it was during an intense game of Pretty Pretty Princess my senior year of college (if you don't know what that is, it's a board game I loved as a kid where you collect and wear all of the princess jewelry...the college version was high stakes: loser had to vacuum the entire apartment).  Another time I was laying in bed crying and I saw a stink bug climbing up the wall. The gross little bug kept falling and I remember just sitting there cackling.  There really wasn't anything funny about it now that I look back, but at the time it's exactly what I needed.

Just because good things happen to you, doesn't mean you can't suffer from depression. It almost turns you into a different person and you have to fight back hard.  There are days it will be the most difficult battle of your life.  Depression isn't about being sad. It's about being unable to live your life. It's about not knowing how to cope with your everyday life. I've had friends come over and clean my apartment, do my dishes, take out my trash, etc. because I had gone so long without being able to get out of my bed.

Next time you hear that someone you love is battling depression, let's try loving them instead of judging them.

Perfect Chaos

I glance around the apartment and all I see is chaos.

Half finished projects surround me and I have absolutely no desire to continue them. The love seat is covered with clothes I washed over a week ago. By now those clothes are wrinkled and I simply don't care.  My garbage hasn't been taken out in a week. Dishes still sit in the sink. Socks and hoodies lay on the floor wherever I happened to strip them off after a tiring day. Shoes are stacked haphazardly by the front door, waiting to trip the next person who dares enter. My rug is strewn with leaves tracked in from the parking lot. My winter clothes and summer clothes lay halfway between the suitcases I will pack some of them away in, and the dresser some of them need to be unpacked into. My bathroom resembles the makeup aisle of CVS if there happened to be an explosion. And I perch on the couch taking it all in, not really caring.

Honestly, my apartment is in chaos.

Even worse is my life is in chaos.

The past few months have been a swirl of anxiety, changes, and a roller coaster of emotions. I've struggled to try and take broken pieces and fit them into spaces where they don't belong. My life has been a mess.

This sense of brokenness has taken a negative toll for quite some time. I've started questioning some days if I truly matter in this world. Many days I can answer that question with a quick and sincere yes. Other days I grapple with that question, and those tough days are the ones I remember the most. Irrational thoughts creep in some days, and scare me. I fear a lot. I don't want to fear. I want life back to normal, and to be able to feel a sense of gratitude throughout the entirety of my day.

My brokenness has also managed to bring positives into my life. When I try to fit those broken pieces back together, I am reminded that I serve a God who will always make me whole again. I am reminded that I do matter. I am constantly surrounded by people who love me, and/or appreciate the role I play in their lives. I am reminded that compassion still exists in our world every time I seek help in the middle of a tough season.   I am loved.

Though this current path has been filled with obstacles, it also has brought so many lessons and joy. Things to be thankful for.

For the first time ever I am grateful for my struggle. It isn't easy, but I have learned more about my strength during this time than I ever have before.

I know myself, and I know I will persevere.

Though my life is chaos, it is perfect in its own funny way.

Grief, Guilt, and the Sting of Fall Breezes

It is incredible to me how simple memories trigger so many emotions. Every season of the year seems to bring different memories I would rather forget, and autumn is no exception.

As the first bitter breeze nips my cheeks, I begin to recall all of the events of my past right after I was raped.  This past weekend (even today and beyond) stirred up a lot of things for me.

As I felt that first chill I was transported back to the bathroom floor of my first apartment, sobbing, scheming, wondering what my next steps were. I was so weak when everyone was rooting for me to be strong. Though I tried to play it off like I was an adult who had her life together, I was still just a kid. Just 21. Navigating life is difficult as is, but now I have to go through THIS? I remember curling up on that tile wishing he had never laid eyes on me. Wishing he had never touched me. Wishing I had never made some of the mistakes I felt I had made. For the first time, however, I was also brought back to the moment where a friend's encouraging words changed the vision I had for myself that night. I was reminded of the hugs, the tears, the chocolate, the trashy reality television. I was reminded of the love I was so freely shown, that I was hesitant to so freely receive.

I remember not wanting to love myself.

The guilt I felt swallowed me whole. Grief gripped her spindly, cold fingers around my neck and choked me until I could no longer scream for help. I could hear his words echoing in my head. Grief taught me to use those as an attack. "You're beautiful", he echoed. "You're disgusting", she convinced me.

Grief would sneak up behind and whisper into my ear, "You're not worthy, you are ruined. You are weak."

She can be convincing.

If you try to suppress her long enough, she will fight her way out larger than life ready to fight and make you feel like a loser.

It's sad, but all 21 year old Kayleigh wanted were people to love her.

All she wanted were people who would recognize her silent screams for help.

And yet, when those people entered, she pushed them away.

I remember the harassment I experienced at school and the dread I felt every time I had to leave my house. My once bubbly exterior quickly dissolved. I folded into myself. I tried to hide between fake smiles and half-hearted laughter.

My world was crumbling around me.

I remember the smell of burning leaves, the crisp November air, and the hope that finally began to spark somewhere deep within my soul. And those are the memories that make me smile.

Those are the memories that shoo away grief, and tell her that she isn't welcome right now.

For the first time my fall memories aren't only dark. I am reminded of the kindness of others, the times I was finally able to trust again and the people who stuck around.

Grief is trying to creep her way back in lately, and honestly maybe I need to entertain her for a little while. She can be a necessary companion for a short amount of time. Sometimes she allows us to deal with things we would rather sweep under the rug.

With this season bringing so many memories, I realize that I haven't fully dealt with certain things. Maybe some of those things will never fully be dealt with. Grief is bringing her friends doubt and guilt with her.

In reality I know I shouldn't feel guilty. It wasn't my fault. I can't change the past.
Yet I feel tinges of it every once in a while.

Sometimes I still doubt myself and my worth based on the choices I've made in the past.
But I know that my worth is not based on what I do.

And constantly I worry about what my future will hold. I've felt older these past few months and I catch myself wondering if I'll have the life I always wanted. Lately it hasn't felt like it. But then I remember all of the amazing things I've gained as an adult, and I don't worry as much.

The past month has been rocky. But somehow this time is different.

Somehow I know things are going to be ok.

Simple Joy

Simple things bring joy to my heart.

A baby's giggle, the bright colors of a firework, the hug of a good friend, a fresh cup of coffee.

So often I don't take the time to slow down and appreciate those simple things. So often I place too much value on the "big" things in life, typically things that cause me stress. I whine, I cry, I worry. Money is always in short supply. Rejection will always hurt.  Imagine what could happen if I could ignore the things that hurt, and embraced the things that actually bring joy to my life.

Unfortunately, I don't believe that any of us can truly ignore the stresses and upsets in our lives, but we can place less value on those things.

I was reminded this week several times how well I have it.  As I drove home from the car shop with two brand new tires and a $200 hole in my bank account, I agonized over the amount of money I no longer had to do 'fun' things. Then as I was driving, I pass several individuals asking for money on street corners. People who seemingly have nothing. I passed people waiting in line at a church for food. And I felt ashamed. Ashamed that I was worrying about money I could no longer splurge on shoes, or clothes, or outings. Ashamed that I didn't take the time to understand how I am blessed financially in this current season of my life. Yes, I live on a teacher's salary which arguably isn't much, but I also have a salary which is more than so many can say. I have the means to pay for luxuries like my car. I have the means to pay for shelter, food, and clothing. Why am I worried about the extras in life, when I can easily possess the necessities?

I worried about so much. I worried about my job, grad school, friendships, failed relationships. Nothing was distracting me from these worries! I never thought I'd snap out of it until I was at Duke hospital waiting for a friend, and a little girl approached me. Questions came firing at me one after the other out of the mouth of the sweetest face.  "Hi! I have cancer. I like your hair! Can I touch it? You can't catch my cancer. I don't have hair cause my cancer, but I have a shiny head! I like my shiny head! Do you like my shiny head? You're pretty! I wish I could be pretty like you! Do you like my bear? She's my hospital bear! Do you like ice cream? Do you like french fries? Have you ever seen a hummingbird? I come to the hospital cause I am very sick! Are you very sick?" The questions went on and on.

And I was ashamed.

I was ashamed because a 5 year old understands more about life than I do. I was ashamed because her mother shared with me they'd been going through treatments with no marked success and things could turn grim any moment. I was ashamed because in my little world, dumb things mattered this week. In the real world there were precious children fighting for their lives. Fighting to have a future of the very obstacles I was complaining about.

I wouldn't dare tell any of you that I have completely dropped the hurt and worries I've experienced this week. That would be a lie, and I am not silly enough to think that I can instantly change my mindset. What I did realize, however, is that I need to stop and smell the roses. Each day is not guaranteed, and I'm placing too much value on things that in the end won't mean much. I need to learn to enjoy my struggles, to appreciate what they teach me. I'm not quite there yet, but with some work I know I will grow.

I want to start appreciating the simple things that used to bring me joy. That still bring me joy. Too many times they have been overlooked, and ignored so I can go back to worrying.

Worrying is no longer my job. Appreciating the life I have is.