Temporary

It seems like everything that goes on today is temporary. Jobs are temporary, friendships are temporary, even relationships are temporary. It makes me sick. Sometimes we cannot help it; people move, relationships change, decisions get made, you get let go at your job, or you simply find a better one. We as people probably have a valid excuse for why we make things so temporary. One thing that I have noticed while attending Bible College is that relationships with friends can be hard. People come and people go. Some graduate, others have theology shifts, and some just never come back.

There are some factors that play into this. Money can play a huge roll in ones ability to come back. Health plays a role in the ability to stay. Myself personally, I have not been as out and open. I have gone back to shutting people out, avoiding people, I have resorted to hiding myself under piles and piles of homework to leave no time for people. On top of that I am starting to get in the swing of things in the IT department, that takes up more time as well.

As I look at the things I have done I start to realize just how stupid I am! These things are only temporary because I allow them to be. I spend to much time being afraid or afraid of getting hurt that I just issolate myself. What other possible reason can I have beside this? As Christians we are called to have fellowship with one another. If I sit and isolate myself, how can I possibly fellowship with my fellow Christians? x

Just a Spark

Imagine that your mind got stuck, stuck on a certain thought or image. Take that thought and image and replay it in your mind

over

and over

and over

no matter what you did, you don't want these thoughts

eventually, it feels like an avalanche...

to make things worse, add intense feelings of anxiety...

This is OCD. This is what I feel every day.

Background:

OCD is an anxiety disorder. It involves performing certain routines or habits repetitively. For many people it can be checking things or having certain thoughts. If these routines or habits are not done, it could cause a lot of distress and totally shatter ones daily life. The habits are called obsession. Trying to control these can become overwhelming and ultimately may end up controlling the person instead.

Background on my OCD:

The first time I remember showing signs of OCD was in fourth grade. I was in the art room sitting with a couple of classmates at the table. I remember looking at the box of coloured pencils in front of me and saying...."That doesn't look right...this bothers me." I remember pushing the thoughts back until I had a tear rolling down my face. I started to "fix" them, to put them in a way that made them "feel right." After that, everything else was pointed out to me. I would get made fun of for counting my steps while walking down the hallway making sure to end on a safe number, or counting while washing my hands. This continued all the way up until I reached high school. 

I was diagnosed with a severe case Obsessive Compulsive Disorder my freshman year in school, not only that but I also had social anxiety. At first I did not believe what they, I could quit counting steps, I could quit fixing things, I didn't need things to be a certain way in order for me to carry on with my daily life. I sat in a room with a Doctor who made me do a bunch of tests. I was told to wash my hands once and sit down. Walking over to the sink I was like...."alright...I've got this...once...one." After I did that, I took my seat. We sat there in silence for a bit. It took about five seconds for my mind to start racing through all of these thoughts. "I didn't do it four times...four is my number...one is not a good number....something is going to happen because I didn't do this the correct number of times." I became squirmy and restless, the anxiety kicked in when I go up to finish my thing, I was told to sit down, to push through, to fight myself, this wasn't something that was needed to be done.

I didn't go back after that. I told my parents I was fine. I did my best to avoid triggers for my compulsions. It didn't work. I just told myself that over time it would fade, it would go away, I didn't need help. That is the biggest lie I have ever told myself. I takes a strong person to do that. There times where I do really good, but it only takes once trigger to send me back. If you are one of those strong people that have done this on your own......I'm proud of you, I commend you, you are awesome!!! I look up to you. x

Home

 I am home for the summer. I should be happy about that right? I should be excited and filled with joy. I get to spend time with my family that is never home. I get to see all the people who I went to college to get away from for like 3 months. I should embrace everyone I have missed while being away. Tell them just how much I missed their faces, or how glad I am to see them. But, I am not. I am not happy to be home, I am not happy to be back in this dreadful town, I left for a reason. If it was not for my one friend, I would have not come back. It is amazing how much one person can affect the choices you decided to make in life. I have been back a week and am already counting down the days until I can go back. 102 days if you would like to know.

Since I have been back, I have had about 8 phone calls, each asking the same question; “Are you going to walk with your class?” To each I respond, “no.” They were all followed by the same response, “why.” I gave the first truth, I was told by the principle I was not allowed to walk with them. Which...I did not really care, I was not going to show up anyway. That seemed to work until my parents asked why. They do not know much of what happened in school or what I have done so I basically told them this: “I left for a reason, I do not like the people in my class, I cannot stand them, I want nothing to do with them.” My dad could care less, my Mum was a little upset but she got over it. I am my own class technically. Class of 2014 ½.

I would like to say I am one of those kids that has the perfect relationship with there parents, but I am not. When I was younger they were heavily involved in my life, once I hit 4^th grade, I began to shut them out, I shut out everyone. I continued this all the way up until now. There are things I cannot bring myself to tell them. There are things I do not want to talk to them about. If they ask a question, I'll answer, it may not be the answer they want to hear or the answer they expected. Coming home occasionally throughout the semester, they began to realize just how much I have 'grown up.' It is not that I have grown up, it is that I just gave up. I am tired of trying to act like there is nothing wrong, if something is wrong or I disagree, I say something about it.

This month and the past month has kind of sucked for me. I have been dreading this summer because I know what it will entitle. Work...work...and...more work. Not that work is bad, I mean I can get a car and hopefully pay some on the bloody loan I had to take out in order to attend school this year. I am currently attending college in hopes of receiving a bachelor in Youth and Family Ministry, but with the way things are going and the things that I have been told, I feel as if my major and study are pointless. I always understood that women could not be preachers. In the Bible it says not to let a woman hold an authoritative position in the church.

I called my church towards the beginning of April and asked if I could give a communion meditation. My preacher said it would be fine, my youth minister said he saw nothing wrong with it, but the church elders said “no.” Not going to lie, I did feel a little hurt, but I did not take it personal. I was told by the elder that the communion meditation was an authoritative position. He backed this up by saying it was a place he saw for teaching and during this time, it would be giving me authority over men in the church. I did not agree with his statement, but out of respect I let it drop and quietly walked downstairs to my class. This did not shake me at first, I kind of brushed it off at first. I had friend's from school with me that weekend so I did not want them to see me upset. I pushed it off and pushed it off until it basically began to just creep in my thoughts and eat me. I began to think about everything going on in my church the good and the bad. I began to think about positions and what I could and could not do in the church. I grew up working audio/sound for the church and for youth group, as I got older, I began helping with Wee Worship, and even Children's Church. I know this counts as serving, but there is nothing in the Bible that says a woman cannot pass the plate during offering or communion. There is nothing that says a woman cannot give a meditation. I apologize if I sound like a feminist, I promise I am not. My thing is, I plan and feel called to be a Youth and Family Minister, how can I do that if I cannot give a communion meditation? The more I compared church to the church in Acts, the more upset I became. What has happened to the church today?

On a different, more interesting note, I do get to go back home for a full week this year!! I am super excited for that, I cannot remember the last time I got to stay more than 5 days in my home state of Michigan. Right now, that seems to be the only good thing I have going for me this summer unless I can find a time to run back up to school to see some friends. Hopefully that will happen, looking forward to at least one day of disk golf and just catching up over what part of the summer has passed. I feel as if I live a double life almost. Here back home, I am the quiet reclusive person that hides in their quietly playing on the keyboard or strumming on the guitar. I leave to go to work where I just do my job and listen to music, then come home to go back to my room. At school, I am a tad bit more social. I can joke around a bit, I have a couple of friends that I really connect with and can talk to easily. I spend time with people and actually enjoy it. Sometimes it is just me laying there listening to them type as they write a paper or talk to themselves in order to study. Whoever said that people need to socialize in order to hangout was wrong. Sometimes just being in the presence of a really good friend and saying absolutely nothing is the best thing. For me anyway.

Well, I think I am done boring you with my rants. Maybe I'll find something other than my boring life to blog about. Chances of that happening are slim, who knows...maybe you will get something or learn something. I hope to do some deep theological blogs in the future, but the chances of that actually happening are well probably good. I have all summer.... 102 more days before I go back to school, surely I will be doing some reading in that time...anyway, have a fantastic day! x

Honest Life

Seems like everywhere I go, everything I have been reading lately, or the things I see on the news have to deal with death. It is kind of ironic for me. This past week my mind has been bogged down with questions from the past. Questions I am never going to know the answers to. I find myself thinking back to almost exactly three years ago. Laying on my floor wishing my own life would end. I watched as my blood pooled on my bedroom floor. I had thought about it many times but had never actually gone through with it until that night. I had had enough of everything; enough pain from my past, enough of being bullied, enough of not feeling wanted.

As I got dizzy, I began to realize what exactly I had done. Pulling myself up, I stumbled to the kitchen then to the bathroom. I remember spilling cornstarch across my wrist to stop the bleeding, I was to the point of freaking out. For once in my life I was truly afraid. Pressing the rag down, I did the best I could to clean up my mess while stopping the bleeding. Everything after that just kind of blurred together. I threw the rags in a plastic bag and then in my closet. I managed to stop the bleeding and just wrapped a bandanna around my wrist and went to bed. I was a really smart kid...I should have gone to the hospital...ultimately...I should have died. It was during this time, the time fear struck and quit that I realized just how fragile life truly was. I realized that in any moment my life could end and I was not as ready to die as I thought I was.

Here I am three years later, I look at my arms and my shoulders lined with scars. Some are newer than others. I look at them and think that each one of these has a story. A few nights ago I was hanging out with one of my friends that I have made this semester. He was the second person I had told about my suicide attempt and soon found out that I was not the only one who had failed. The more we talked, the more I began to realize that he was someone who understood the pain I was feeling. When he dropped me back off at campus, I began to reflect over everything we had talked about. I found someone who truly knew how I felt.

I ended up chilling with him again a couple of nights ago. It was fun, if I could compare it to anything it would be how I would see spending time with an awesome older brother. We talked, rough housed, and over all enjoyed each other's company. I had that sense of feeling wanted, the feeling of having a true friend that knew my struggles and my darkest secret and did not change his view on me or judge me. He simply held me and told me not to feel ashamed about any of it.

If there is one thing that has been positive about me attending this college it is that God has placed some incredible people in my life. My friend I have talked about in this blog, my roommate, the lasses on my floor, and even some other lad friends that I chill with. He has given me incredible relationships with these people, and most of all, a second chance. I should not have lived that night, I did not want to live that night. There have been times where I have asked myself if I ever regretted saving myself, my answer...yes more than I would care to admit. Right now, I am glad that I did not, I am glad I am here and I am glad that I get to share this with whoever reads it. If there is one thing I would like for someone to get from this is this...do not give up, life is way to short to end it yourself.

As one of my favorite bands say in one of their songs "you can make it to the sunrise."
   "Sunrise" by Our Last Night. Truly is an amazing song. x