Born To Choose

I saw something on Facebook yesterday that really disturbed me. It was a status a friend of mine had shared. This status was from a women who talked about her life leading up to today. She talked about being raped at various stages of her childhood, turning to drugs and alcohol, and then becoming a satanist til God then intervened in her life and saved her. So far, it sounds like an amazing testimony. Until I saw the next line which read that God saved her so she could spread the word that being gay is a choice and that no one is born gay.

Her story is that because she was molested, she was afraid of men and she questioned her sexuality because she was attracted to women. She decided (made a choice) to pursue that feeling. She slept with as many women as she could and dared people of faith to attack her. And they did - she was bullied and persecuted for what she was doing.

Eventually she became saved and she says she was saved from the lie she was living. Now she is persecuted for turning the other way and changing her way of life. She says that she now understands both sides and she has a right to say being gay is a choice, not something you are born as.

This is a difficult subject to discuss. This woman has clearly lived a burdened life and been through many trials.

However.

I feel she is wrong for saying she has a right to say you cannot be born gay.

And here is why: I can tell a similar story.

I was raped and molested through out my childhood and early adult hood. The first porn that I ever saw was a magazine that belonged to my stepfather, who was also my abuser. I found it by accident when I was cleaning. It scared the life out of me. It confused me. It made me think and feel things that immediately made me feel ashamed and disgusting. I threw it away. But after years of being subject to sexual depravity and learning to associate sex with pain and love with rape, when I reached puberty and became a woman, I believed that I didn't like what he was doing because I was gay.

I cannot tell you the agony my teenage mind lived through during that period. It took years and living through a very bad dating relationship with a bad man to undo the damage of those years.

I am not gay. I am married to the love of my life, a strong, intelligent young man whom I would do anything for.

I did not make the same choices as the woman from above. She chose one path and I chose another. It could have easily gone either way. When a person destroys you and makes you into a toy for amusement...it changes you in more ways than you realize.

I have read articles of young women so traumatized and changed that yes, they do prefer the company of other women than men. I cannot blame them. Sometimes you cannot fix what has occured, you can only go forward and make a change. They changed, and they changed for the better and they found a way to move on with their life and make something positive out of a tragedy.

How dare you condemn that choice?

When I was in college, I spent many classes studying psychology; gender psychology, child psychology, basic psychology, etc. I took these classes trying to figure out more things about myself. Why was I how I was and what caused it? Along the way, we learned about the differences between males and females, brain wise. Did you know that male brains and female brains are shaped differently? They are. You can tell the difference between the two, not just by how the brain lights up when a person thinks or feels emotion, but also because of a unique structural difference. Now, did you know that we are all female at conception? That's why men have nipples that serve no function. They are left over from when they were females. How fascinating is that? I think that it is incredible.

For those of you who bash the idea that you cannot be born gay, have you ever taken time to do some research? Have you ever examined the differences between male and female brains?

It is biologically possible to have a female brain in a male body and vice versa. It is also possible to have a male mind with dominate female traits and vice versa.

So yes, I believe with all of my heart that you can be born gay. I also believe with all of my heart that you can choose to be gay.

If you are Christian, we live by the adage that God makes no mistakes and that He is the creator of all things.

If you believe that, how dare you say that the gay and lesbian population are mistakes and blasphemies of God?

There is not a righteous man among us, there is not a person who can call himself good. Yet you so easily condemn the people beside you?

How many have committed adultery? How many of lied? Stolen? Coveted? Used His name in vain?

Blasphemies.

So how dare you play God and condemn.

Jesus' message was simple: love, and show grace.

Everytime you use hateful speech toward any person or thing, you are walking over the very teaching you claim to promote.

In closing, I will share a Facebook post I wrote in response to the legalization of gay marriage:

"I am disappointed in many of my Christian friends who have very loudly voiced their opinions on the legalization of gay marriage. I'm talking about the hateful ones. The ones who bitterly insist that it is the gays fault our world is ending. 

Update people. When women earned the right to vote, it was the end of the world. May I respectfully remind you that biblically speaking women are to be silent when it comes to positions of power.

When African Americans earned their freedom it was the end of the world! It was 'unchristianlike' to be associated with them.

Perhaps go back further when divorce became legal. Need I remind that the Bible said no divorce save for adultery or infidelity.

The truth is people, it is not your job as a Christian to have an opinion. It is your job to walk as Jesus did with love and grace. No, you don't need to agree. You don't need to understand. But you do need to see these people for who they are - creations of God. Beautiful, beautiful creations who are human like the rest us.

It is not the gays fault our world is broken. We did it to ourselves and we do it every waking moment. This world is what we as a human race have created. 

So blame yourself.

Why do you think the world is divided? We pick things to fight about on purpose so we can feel more righteous about ourselves. 

Shame on all of us!!

I do not see Jesus in your hateful, ignorant posts. What then, is the point of your opinion when you automatically alienate those whom you desire to reach?"

Where is love?

We all make choices. Is there grace for your choice?

May the Frets be with you.

Where Is Love?

One of the hardest things in life is to be judged by your peers. The harsh, cruel judging - where you aren’t even given a chance and you are written off as a worthless nobody. It could be about your faith, the way you live, your personal choices, your past, and even the way you look.

You are judged.

You are ridiculed.

You are hated.

You are shut out from the world. You’ve become another dirty little secret no one likes to talk about.

What happened to love? Where is that love that transcends all things, knows no boundaries, overlooks all faults, and blooms life rather than destroys?

Where is the love of forgiveness? You can see a wrong, but you can love the person anyway. Maybe they didn’t know. Maybe they are still trying. Maybe you are still trying and haven’t quite gotten there.

Where is the love of compassion? We all know suffering. We all know loss, and you’d think that alone would unite us.

Where is the love of gentleness? Cruel words don’t make you tough - all they do is show the world how broken you really are. Tearing down another person doesn’t make you stronger. It will however, make you colder and more alone.

Where is the love of humility? Saying you are better does not justify you! We have all done wrong. We have all fallen. You know what it’s like. Kind words make a better bridge of healing than heartless, thoughtless ones.

And where, oh where, is the love of grace? Grace to understand a difference, grace to smooth a roughened edge, and grace to conquer hate and fear?

We are supposed to be a people of love; not blind love, not silly love, and not selfish love, but love that is pure.

I may not understand your choices, but I will love you anyway. I hope that you will love me too because I know you can never understand me.

A humble love, that acknowledges we are all the same - humans, struggling to find our identity in a world of ambiguity and darkness.

Where is love?

"If I can speak with human eloquence and angelic ecstasy
But I don't love, I'm nothing but the creaking of a rusty gate
If I speak God's word with power, revealing all His mysteries
And making everything as plain as day
And if I say to a mountain jump and it jumps
But I don't love, I'm nothing
If I give all I own to the poor
Or if I even go to the stake to be burned as a martyr
But I don't have love, I've gotten nowhere
So, no matter what we say, no matter what we believe, no matter what we do
We're bankrupt without love."1 Corinthians 13: 1-3

May the Frets be with you.

Restoration

I would like to tell you about my upcoming wedding. Part of the reason I haven't written on here as often is because of all the wedding planning. My fiance and I decided that we would plan it ourselves and make our own decorations and party favors to cut down on the cost of the wedding. I also decided to sew my own gown. Though I can proudly say we've saved thousands, I have to be honest and say it was more work than we expected. But, we have done it! and in sixty days I will stand at the altar and give myself to the love and light of my life.

First, I would like to tell you what led up to our meeting.

They say that wherever life leads you, whatever you go through, when you come out in the end you are exactly where you are supposed to be. Sometimes you are happy with it and sometimes you have to adjust and become okay with where you are at. I do believe that things eventually work out, no matter how far gone or out of touch you feel.

So let's start at the beginning. 

I have a lot of happy memories from my childhood. My favorite one is of a warm summer day. It was a little hazy out and the blue sky had big fluffy clouds of cotton spotted here and there. It wasn't too hot and there was a gentle breeze blowing. Me and my young brother Mac were on the front porch blowing bubbles. I was wearing a favorite shirt. It was quiet outside except for the birds and the occasional passing car. I remember watching the bubbles float away with the sunlight gleaming off of them. It made them look like little orbs of glass. That moment lives on in my memory and when I let myself, I am once again standing on the porch with Mac, watching those bubbles in peace and perfect innocence.

I hold onto this memory when the dark ones approach. 

My father died before I was born - just a week before I believe. I often wonder how different would things have been if he hadn't gone out that day. It isn't all sad though. Out of the broken comes the life and out of this pain I was blessed with brothers and a sister I would have never known.

I don't like to talk about the past. Sometimes it still feels so fresh and new. However, to understand the future we must understand the past, right? It would take many, many posts to explain in depth about what we suffered. So, for now, I will touch on some of the things that have impacted me the most.

My stepfather was very abusive. He was a monster. I cannot put a number on the times he hit me, pushed me, beat me, deprived me of sleep, and even starved me. He spent his time drilling into my brain that I was scum, a worthless human being that should be grateful for his instruction and care. He misused the Bible and manipulated it's words to fit his own evil agenda, be it discipline or sexual aggression. We were not allowed to be 'wordly' - no pants for the girls, no makeup, no jewelry, we couldn't cut our hair and we had to keep it covered up. We weren't even allowed to shave our legs. We had to wear shapeless dresses. The boys weren't allowed special clothing or fun t-shirts. Their heads were shaved. Just like prison.

When I was six years old, I was raped several times by this man who was supposed to be my protector. He threatened me afterward and warned me never to tell anyone or I would 'be in big, big trouble.' As I grew, the abuse escalated. He accused me of lying about everything. It didn't matter what the truth was - I was a liar and not to be trusted. So eventually I stopped denying my guilt and gave in. It was easier than fighting. Each time I gave in, I started to believe it a little more. That's when I developed my nervous eating habit. I took food from the pantry and ate some, would be angry with myself, and would dump the rest out the back window behind some bushes. I cannot describe what it was like the day he discovered it...Life itself was a trial. Everything made him angry, any sound would light his fuse - the crackling of grocery bags, the clinking of dishes, our laughter, our tears, the way we chewed our food.

One of the most painful things I remember is when he accused me of molesting my brothers. I was still at an age when I didn't even understand what that meant. The longer I 'lied' about doing it and denied my guilt, the worse the punishments would get, until one day I couldn't take anymore and admitted that I did. A part of me died that day, and it still brings tears to my eyes. I remember the day he took me to the hardware store and he bought some lumber. He took it home, took it to my bedroom and told me that he was downsizing my room. He was building me a cage - and he forced me to help him build it. He took away all my toys, books, and trinkets. He padlocked my closet. He screwed my windows shut. He left me with a blanket and a Bible and locked the door. He told me I was too evil to associate with the family, often beating me until my bruises began to bleed. I wasn't allowed near my brothers. My clothes were picked out for me. I ate there. When I had to go to the bathroom, I had to pound on the door until someone heard me. Sometimes I didn't make it. When I did, I wasn't allowed to close the door because who knew what I might do with the door shut! I don't even know how long this continued for because I lost track of the days. The summer went by, and the fall...and time seemed like an eternity. I used to sing the Psalms out loud. The joyful ones were my favorite. The ones that talked of love and freedom and the great joy David felt when he walked with God. I read the Bible front to back. I knew all the stories. It was the only solace that I had.

But time moves on and so do we and eventually the imprisonment did, too. The abuse got worse as his health began to decline. He had foot surgery and became addicted to his pain killers. It made him even more of a monster, if you can believe that. I will never forget looking into his eyes and seeing the all consuming hate and disgust that lived there. Our life was a day by day kind of thing. And I watched from the windows when he stayed out in his garage expecting him to bring a gun and murder us. He had a full arsenal that he displayed through out the house - a dare for one of us to try to leave. Not that we could anyway. We were isolated from the world - cut off from friends and family  We only had one vehicle - a rusted work van that only had two seats and he slept with the keys and his wallet which controlled all the money. We were trapped in this hell.

When I turned 18, I was no longer a child. It wasn't considered child abuse anymore. For twelve years I kept his dirty secret. I guess he thought he was safe. Two days after my birthday, it began. A whole new level of hell. He would make me come out to his garage and keep me up all hours of the night and then wake me early in the morning. Its a form of control so you don't fight back because you are too tired. Every day, sometimes multiple times a day, my stepfather would sexually assault me. I would cry and beg him to stop and he would - for awhile. Then it would begin all over again and with more control and disregard for what I said. I didn't want to stop fighting, but eventually I got too tired. I would stand or sit until it was over and then cry myself to sleep.

This lasted for a full year. And in that year, I begged God to let me die. I begged him to let me go to sleep and not wake up. I was broken and there was no way to salvation - none that I could see. And it was in that moment, that I felt God's presence and in my heart He told me 'it will be okay. I promise. It will end soon.'

That kept me alive. That, and my brothers whom I love more than life. I couldn't let them face the darkness without me.

In December of 2009 we received our salvation. We escaped and we never looked backed. At a different time, I will tell you about that day. It was scary and he chased us but we made it to safety.

We lived in a shelter for three months. There, we learned about the cycle of abuse. We began therapy to help us work through the trauma. We learned about the outside world. I wore make up for the first time, and had jewelry and a black pair of denim jeans. I still have them.

It's not easy to begin a new life in a strange country and that is what it was like for us. There was so much we had to learn, most by trial and error.

There was a lot I had to learn. A lot I needed to overcome or find a way around. I still do. These things still hurt. They don't go away just because the inflictor is gone. They don't disappear although I wish they could. There is no magic wand, no perfect word, and no therapy that can undo what has occured.

During the hard times when I felt like everything was over, I would recite this one verse to myself. It was a reminder, a director of hope : 'There is surely a future hope for you, and your hope will not be cut off.' Proverbs 23:18. I wanted to believe it more than anything. I wanted all of this darkness to mean something, because then what was the point? There is surely a future hope for you. Trust me, there is. I didn't think there was one for me. I never believed someone would ever love me because I was so damaged. Damaged goods. That's how I saw myself. Unworthy, unwanted, unloveable. It's a terrible, terrible place to be.

But I kept going because this time I wasn't going to give in, I was done giving in! I was done letting someone break me day in and day out. I have fought every single day to maintain the breath in my lungs and the beat in my heart. I have worked every day to find a reason to keep walking. It wasn't easy.

They say that wherever life leads you, whatever you go through, when you come out in the end you are exactly where you are supposed to be. 

Despite all that I have been through, I have come to the place I was meant to be. When I met Link, my fiance, I was dating someone else. A bad someone else who I dumped for cheating on me. I was at a low point in my depression. I was cutting non stop back then and Link knew. He didn't try to stop me because he knew it wouldn't do any good. He just reasoned with me. One day he called me while I was cutting. I had carved 'ugly' and 'perfect' into my upper right thigh. I was angry and told him exactly what I was doing. Do you know what he did? He got into his car, came to my house, and cleaned and bandaged my wounds. And he cried over them. He cried because he hated to see the pain I was in.

Someone who had just started getting to know me cared so much.

Eventually, I stopped cutting. I stopped for Link. I wanted a future with him and I wasn't willing to mess it up. I wasn't willing to stop fighting. Our relationship isn't perfect. Of course we fight sometimes, but he is my best friend. He gets me on a deeper level than I ever thought possible. He never expects an explanation. He's patient when I'm angry or distant. He reasons when I'm irrational and heated. He's there when I wake up from the nightmares.

I do believe there is someone for everyone. When you get to where you need to be, you will find him or her. And maybe you don't need a someone, maybe you just need a chance, just a moment to escape. I promise that you will find one of those, too. It's coming, please hold on!

There is another verse in the Bible, Joel 2:25, and it says that 'the Lord will restore the years that the locust have eaten', meaning he will right the wrongs that came to you. This time in my life, despite the daily ups and downs, this time is my restoration. And I'm telling you whether you believe in God or not, that your life will not always be in darkness. I promise you, because I have been there.

I have walked to the edge of the darkness and I have stared Death straight in the eyes and I still turned around and walked the other way! It is never too late and you are never too far gone.

It will get better.

This wedding is so huge for me. It is something I never believed I would have. There is no where I would rather be than by Link's side. This new life is my restoration. This wedding is. But this wedding also holds a lot of symbolism, too. We leave our old life behind to begin anew. That's what I'm going to do. I'm going to let it go and let the restoration wash over me.

It will be one of the happiest moments of my life. However, I will never forget that moment with Mac, on our porch in the summer. From that moment, I traveled to where I needed to be.

Wherever you are, don't give up. Please, please don't give up. There is surely a future hope for you. Your life will be restored.

Believe in yourself.

Don't stop fighting.

I won't. I can't, because I have something to live for.

So do you.

I wasn't the only one to live through the horror. My mother and my siblings lived it too. They are survivors. They are strong, and I am proud of all of them. I know they all have their own stories to tell. They have their own nightmares and flash backs to contend with. But not once have I ever seen them stop fighting, struggling to get free. I know they haven't found all their words yet. I hope some day they will. I hope they recognize their restoration as well.

Please, please don't give up! I promise that it gets better! 

May the Frets be with you.

Guest Speaker: Rachelove

I am honored to welcome my first guest speaker known as Rachelove. I have known her for a few years now and I can confidently say that my life is much more awesome having known her. We all go through that feeling of isolation, believing no one knows what we are going through. Rachelove does a beautiful job not only describing her depression and how it affects her day to day life, but also how she fights it. I hope you all find it as inspiring as I did.


I would like to start by introducing myself and say that I hope my blog is relatable. I hope that you can read what I write and feel that you are not alone because we all struggle.

I'm 21, married, with a daughter that's 17 months. She is everything to me. I've been married just under a year. I've struggled with depression for a large portion of my life. When I met my husband I was at a very low point. I had imprisoned myself in my house until I eventually had a fear of stepping outside my door. My doctor diagnosed me with agoraphobia. Saying the word makes me sick. I have never felt more lost until I became housebound.  My anxiety at some of it's scariest points and my depression at some of my lowest points. I was only 17 years old. I should have been focused on my school work and graduating high school, but instead I was inside my home fearful of life in general. I did not graduate. I had a boyfriend who was a very active gamer, while at first I did not agree with his habits, I eventually took on gaming myself as an "outlet" for everything I was coping with. It was easier living in a virtual world then reality. The game we played was World of Warcraft. I loved it! I could become a badass fearless character without having to leave my bedroom! I could explore the world and travel anywhere I wanted without actually have to leave my "safe zone" of course it was a fake world but nevertheless a world I wasn't afraid of. I met some great people on the game, some friends I still talk to. I also met one special person in particular, my husband. Another entry Id love to share more with you about how we were eventually led to making the decision to meet.

My depression

A little about how I feel when I'm depressed, helpless, angry, temperamental, and much more. I tend to not eat and like to talk to a few of my friends (which I tend to use as "safety nets") about how miserable I am in hopes that someone will randomly take all my pain away.  A safety net is someone or something you run to when your feeling out of control. I have 3 friends that go back and forth with me, I even have one friend that I am his safety net as well. We tend to pull people like magnets without even thinking about it. Naturally we are drawn to each other's pain and misery and we keep switching roles to help each other or victimize ourselves. It' a triangle that keeps going.

 I struggle with acceptance and being independent, when I reach these lows I feel I cannot be alone. I'm terrified of sleeping alone, being alone in a room for long periods of time, traveling alone etc I still do all of these things by myself because I have to. There are days though when I do not get up to pee until I can't hold it anymore. I'll feel my stomach growl but not eat, I'll smell my b.o. And bad breath and just continue laying in my bed. It takes everything to just snap out of it and say "ok, I'm going to go shower and feed myself and finally go to the bathroom" etc. When I tell people about my depression they tell me things like "shame on you, you have a baby shouldn't that be enough motivation to do better?" As if I don't love her or as if she's not good enough to pull me out of my funk. My baby girl is more than my everything to me.  I do not love her any less than any mom not struggling with these conditions. I will continue to use her as my motivation to keep going. She always will be.

Depression after fighting

My husband has been watching me go through some of the toughest times and unfortunately has been a victim of tough times himself. Our situation is unique and not so simple. We are both from two different countries. Even though we are practically neighbors, this is 2015 and being married doesn't mean you get to just work and live here in the USA. We have been trying to get him a green card for 2 years now. We do not have the finances. This has put a huge barrier on our relationship. Lately we have found out some more disappointing news and as usual it isn't looking good for us living in the United States. It's time to face fact, it's time I live with him. I am struggling to do so and we fight. We have both said things we don't mean. We are hurting each other more often, saying things we don't really mean. Our fights are a dead trigger to my anxiety and my depression. I feel a never ending knot in my stomach, the more out of control I act the further away I push him. I yell, I blame him. Through it all he still tries to reassure me he loves me until he's had enough, then the phone calls stop and the messages, leaving me to feel isolated, alone, and abandoned. This is when the lack of eating starts and the leaning on my safety nets. I push him to a breaking point because I'm feeling out of control until I get what I feared would happen. He still reluctantly answers my phone calls and when he feels he needs space still listens to me.  I'm still not satisfied. This dark cloud that lingers above my head won't be satisfied until I'm never happy.  I am hanging onto a string while it's blowing me around in a circle of storms. While I believe I deserve to be happy and when I get the courage to say I won't let this rule my life anymore, my brains yells "NOPE" "you are bound to suffer and it's your fault."

I still fight it and I will continue until I succeed.

If you would like to follow Rachelove's blog, click the link below and show her some well deserved and much needed love. I encourage you all to leave a comment for her, showing your support:

Depression after fighting

May the Frets be with you.

In The Words Of...

This morning I was browsing the all powerful Internet. I was looking for an inspirational quote to use as a status on my blog's Facebook page. Click. Click. Click. I wanted something that really spoke to me, something that was powerful.

Click.

Whoosh!

You know those moments when you feel like you been struck by lightening, or that you walked right into an invisible wall and had the breath knocked out of you? 

Ladies and gentleman, meet my invisible wall:

What a powerful quote and an even more extraordinary idea. 

I was kind of dumbfounded and my little peewee brain struggled with the emotions I have been harboring for years - resentment, loss, and hate.

Ever had people hanging on your arms and all of them want you to do something different? Well, that is how I have felt for a very long time. As if my wrists had been bound my this invisible leather and these skeletal  hands with long bony fingers grabbed at my elbows stopping my blood flow and rendering me helpless.

Resentment. Loathing. You name it, its a dangerous load to carry around.

But I have always felt that if I just let it go, that they won. I felt like someone needed to remember the bad things, the bone breaking moments. I didn't want it to be like none of it ever happened because then what was the point of it all?

But I suppose that by harboring the hate, I really am giving into what they wanted in the first place. They say misery loves company, and I can agree with that. The person who brings you down must be altogether desperate and miserable.

Where ever you are in life, I encourage you to remember these wise words of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. No man or woman should get the enjoyment of seeing you suffer while their pain holds you hostage.

Don't go there, you are better than that.

And so am I.

Break the bonds that bind you, 
Let the shadows flee your sight
For though Misery loves company,
She cannot withstand a fight.

May the Frets be with you.

A Re-Imagining

I don't know how many people read my blog. I don't know if I reach anyone or if my ramblings remain mostly hidden and unnoticed in the vast inter-webs of the Internet. At first, I never cared. In fact, I preferred a certain level anonymity because I often felt so exposed after writing a blog post. This sharing of myself with unseen eyes was a frightful thing and it left me feeling so vulnerable. Sometimes I still feel that way. My hands get shaky and my heart races and I panic and think 'oh, I shouldn't have written that!', but I calm myself and remember that it's ok. What's done is done.

I am a private person. I have to like you an awful lot to spill my guts to you. I guard myself night and day, waiting for a surprise assault. I can predict every possible thing that could go wrong. My fiancee would tell you that I have an extreme distaste for chairs facing away from the window. I like to sit in corners where I can see everything and still have an escape route. I have several plans in place in case a mysterious person showed up and tried to kill me. Paranoia? You don't know the half of it. I keep my secrets like I keep myself - guarded and away from exposing areas.

And here I am - completely disregarding everything I just typed and sharing a part of myself. It's still safe, though, because I use a different name and don't post where I am from. You know me as Ravven.

Ravens are beautiful birds. They live an average of 21 years in the wild (some up to 40 in captivity!), they have an omnivorous diet and are opportunistic in regards to finding food. The raven has also been proven to be unusually intelligent and has been romanticized by great authors including Edgar Allen Poe. When a raven mates, it mates for life and if their mate dies, they live a life in solitude.

There is a dark romance to a raven. To the general population they are pests, but to the right person they are a majestic creature surrounded in mystery and darkness. It takes a special person to see the beauty and awe in a raven.

My mother used to call me Canary when I was growing up. The canary is typically bright yellow and can sing the most beautiful tunes. They are positively lovely and the species makes an excellent pet. They are good with kids and are easy to handle. My mother called me Canary because I was a bright child who liked to sing and dance and be graced by the sunlight.

Somewhere along the line, the Canary grew up and lost her luster and stopped craving for the sunlight.

In our lives we experience things that change us. They aren't all bad changes, but regardless of that we become a different person. I grew up and became a different person.

I am an unconventional beauty but it took me a long time to realize that. I still love to sing. I still love to dance. Of course I am still me and deep inside, somewhere, the canary still tweets.

And yet...
 
I hate myself. There, I said it. Don't tell me I am wrong, I know that! I hate myself because I have no self confidence. I let opportunities pass me by all the time. I blame others for my lack of action and then am disgusted for being so gutless.  I hate that even though I can put on a good face, deep inside I am quaking at this thing called 'friendship' because I know somewhere along the line I will do something unintentional and mess it up. I want to do the right thing so bad and yet I second guess every step of the way. I still care about what other people think even though I will swear that 'I'm not about that life.' And I am so afraid of myself and who I am that I would rather hide behind a screen, in the dark because what if I fail? What if I embarrass myself? I don't know your world! I don't know how to be something I am not! I don't even now who I am!

And then I realized - this is my chance! A chance to re-imagine myself. A chance to change all of that and use it to my advantage. A chance to use my darkness not to cast shadows but to provide shade. A chance to use my tangled scars not to provoke confusion but to provide a road map to a better place. A chance to use my paranoia not to save myself but to save others.

My wingtips blackened from the night, caught the wind and caught the light
And whisked me from the hands that wished to stake my soul.
That place became my burial site, for a brand new Ravven came to life
And when they question what my name and life is called heretofore,
I answer, 'I am Ravven, evermore.
I shall be broken nevermore!' 

I re-imagined myself.

And Ravven was born - strong, beautiful, majestic Ravven, a triumph of her past and a Guardian of the Lost.

I don't know how many people see this, but I do care now, because wherever you are along the road of Life, it is never to late to re-imagine yourself! You can change the very fabric of your soul, the very entity of your being! Today when I walk away from this blogpost, I am not going to have shaky hands or baited breath. I am going to go sit at the window and take in the sun. I am not going to imagine my death, I am going to imagine my life.

I am powerful.

So are you.

Re-imagine yourself.

You are so much more than what you give yourself credit for.

I will not live in fear or darkness.

Will you?


May the Frets be with you.

What Lies Inside

I firmly believe that a great portion of errant behavior and misguided mistakes could have been avoided if someone, somewhere, had told the lost person 'you are good enough' or 'I love you' or 'I will be there for you' and then followed through and gave them a reason to believe it.

People now a days are always out with something to prove, be it power, strength, money, will, sex, intelligence, etc. There is a constant pressure to be bigger and better. You must do this to become this and don't look back and don't falter and for God's sake get your act together because you can't just be a human.

Through the ages, men and women have power-played each other to get the upper hand. Today we have a steadily growing vice of feminism sweeping the nation. As a women myself, I am all for women's rights. I do believe we should be treated equally and be respected. We should not have to fear sleeping in our own beds or going to the local grocery store or taking a high position in a company. Women have a lot to offer the world. However, I can't be classified as a feminist. I disagree with the hardcore manhaters. Women are different than men. We think and behave differently and our level of reasoning and coming to a decision is pretty much a different way of life than that of a man. How could you expect them to be the same and demand the same? More importantly, how dare you?

Women have gifts that men do not. Time has shown us that we are mighty teachers, lovers, healers, and most importantly, mothers. We possess a gift that no man can ever know: motherhood. Yet so many women are mortified with the idea of motherhood. I was told once that I was wasting myself getting married so young and planning on children. I beg your pardon but if you want to be out there in the world, please do so but respect the fact that my wants are different than yours.

So what made women scorn their own identity? Well, obviously, they were just not good enough being who they were. Decades of being told where they belonged and how they were to behave and at the same time degrading their positions and belittling what they are capable of - what would you expect?

I feel sorry for the men. Men have a lot to deal with in the face of this radical society that we live in. They need to be better providers, smarter businessmen, more dedicated fathers and husbands. They must never screw up, never think twice, and must never break down. They do not cry, they do not whine, and if they do shame on them! Society teaches boys not to cry or show emotion and then condemns them for being heartless. Does anyone else see a problem here?

Enough with men and women. They are hopeless. Hopeless because they refuse to change. They are too ashamed of who they are.

Let's talk about children. Let's talk about bullying.

It is one of the most heinous crimes I can think of. It has some of the most devastating outcomes. Children are so impressionable. They take so much of the bad things to heart. How many times has your child told you they were being bullied? How many times have you seen the signs? What have you done to stop it?

Childhood is where the first seed of self hatred is planted. It blossoms through middle school and typically reaches its peak in high school. Have you ever listened to the snide comments children say?

'You're so ugly, go kill yourself!'

"God, you are so goddamn disgusting. Please move out of the way so I don't catch something."

"Was I talking to you? No. I rather talk to a wall, then be caught dead talking to someone as low as you."

"Hey, you may not notice this but you're kind of poor. Like really, really poor. Kind of trashy too."

"That was your mother? HA! That?! Well everything makes sense now."

 "Listen, if I were you, I would have killed myself a long, long time ago." 

Have you done anything to stop it? When they come home at night do you tell them its going to be ok? That they are just bullies that they have to ignore? That doesn't work. Bullies don't go away because you ignore them. Have you considered what that bullied child is going to grow up to become? The cycle is never ending.

And bullies don't have to be at school. They can be parents, teachers, coaches, friends, pastors, employers, etc. They are everywhere.

I can tell you from experience that when someone goes out of their way to make you feel worthless and  disgusting that feeling stays with you. You either fight it your whole life or you end up believing it. Sometimes, it's a little of both.

You give up your identity because you are ashamed of it and you go off into the world with a chip on your shoulder and something to prove. And not for one second can you look back or mess up because then you know they were right!

I suppose this blogpost has turned into a bit of a ramble and I apologize for that. Sometimes it is hard for me to clearly state something that I feel so passionate about. I see these things everyday. I watched it happen in my own family. It is devastating.

Be kind to the people around you. You very well might be the only kindness they see today. Try to remember that you don't know what's going on in someone else's life.

How different this world be if the cold shoulders, the disapproving stares, and the confirmation of self depricating words were never shown or spoken.

How different indeed.

We struggle every day in this world. Wouldn't it be so much easier if men and women could accept the differences they have and live in harmony? If we could learn to work together, our strengths and weaknesses would balance each other out. We wouldn't have to struggle so much.

We'd probably even like ourselves.

“What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us."– Ralph Waldo Emerson

What lies within you?

Yourself or the self society dictates you be?

May the Frets be with you.

In The Flesh

Depression

I have struggled with depression all my life. As long as I can remember I have always had this profound feeling of sadness and emptiness - a lack of worth and a lack of life. That's not to say that I do not feel happiness, because I do! I experience joy and euphoria just like anybody else. And yet, I struggle...

I can tell you all the signs. That feeling of utter hopelessness. Not caring what you look like. Being excessively hungry or having no interest in food. Sleeping way too much or way too little. Nightmares. Self loathing and neglect. The list goes on for awhile and can be different according to each person.

I can tell you all the things you can do to 'beat' depression. Exercise! Eat healthy foods and drink lots of water. Time your sleep schedule. Take your vitamins. Get a hobby. Spend time with family and friends and avoid isolation. Have safe sex and lots of it. Take medication. This list goes on for awhile too.

Chronic and clinical depression are very real things, despite the many people that wish to discredit you and inform you that you need to just 'get over it' and 'move on'. My favorite is 'stop feeling sorry for yourself.'

Do you experience highs and lows? I do. Some days I'll be just fine and everything is going perfect. My sky is blue. Other days I can barely lift the corner of my lips to form that fake smile. I don't care that my hair is dirty, I just pin it up so I don't have to look at it. I either starve myself or binge eat. I avoid eye contact, don't start conversations and just generally am 10x more sarcastic than usual. None of my clothes fit right because I am so disgustingly overweight and I hate myself. I stop sleeping and when I do, I have the most horrific nightmares you could imagine. Actually, you couldn't imagine because I don't even know how my brain creates the monsters that it does.

Each time my low points get worse. They last longer and are more intense.

At this time, I have reached a low point. A really low point. It was set off a few days ago. My anxiety is at it's max and it's hard to type with how my hands shake. I fight every morning to get up and start the day after a bloody nightmare wakes me. My latest nighmare was so horrible that in my dream I was aware I was dreaming and was screaming for someone to please wake me up.

And I guess that's pretty much how I feel when I am depressed. I want someone to come and wake me up because I feel so distant and out of control.

I refuse to take any meds. So far in my journey, I find a way to pull myself out. I fight it! I refuse to let it win.

I can't change the fact that it's here.

But I can change how it controls me.

My fiance is understanding. He knows when I reach my points. He gently assures me that it's going to be ok. He never prods. He never tip toes either - at least not that I notice. He carries on life and makes me participate. He has long conversations with me even though I don't respond. He says he knows that if he keeps talking I'll eventually answer. He reasons with me when I start my self hating. He explains away my nightmares until they seem like a little rain cloud instead of a devastating storm.

When I reach this point, I hurt really bad. Everything that haunts me is right there in my ear, reminding me.

I did get therapy once, a long time ago. To cope with the trauma, my therapist taught me to envision a room with walls covered in tiny cubbie-holes. In each cubbie-hole lived a little shoebox and in each shoebox I had put a either  a stressor, a memory, or a fear. At the end of the room, there is a giant padlocked door. In that room, all my darkest secrets and memories live. Everything is organized and I have complete control over what I allow out of the box.

When I hit my low point, it's like all my boxes got upset by an earthquake and they litter the floor of the room - all mixed up. Everything is in an uproar and nothing is in my control. Box by box, I have to put everything away and in doing so, I relive them all.

It is such a relief to have the boxes all organized again. To feel in control. Sometimes, though, I dwell too long on one box and that is what makes the low point last even longer. I'm still learning to let go, still learning how to silence the festering wounds.

I recognize that I am depressed and that helps me fight it. During my low points, I know what I am more susceptible to - self harm being the largest thing. So I am careful and I do my best to avoid opening that box. It's a place I'm not willing to go to again.

If you are depressed, I want you to know that it's ok. It's your normal even if no one else understands. You don't need to be ashamed or feel like a freak. You can fight it too. Everyone copes differently. Find your different. It's up to you to define depression. Don't let depression define you.

And if you aren't depressed but you know someone who is, be compassionate. Be caring. Be willing to listen. Offer to be a friend or companion. Listen.

Please just listen. 

In the midst of my lows, I know I have made it out before. I know there is an end, I'm not stupid. It's the path to getting to the end that hurts.

I've got to put my boxes away. Let them collect dust. Let them become forgotten.

I encourage you to put your boxes away, too.

Above all, share yourself with someone. You might save a life.

You will definitely save yourself.

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline:

1 (800) 273-8255

Dealing with Depression: 

http://www.helpguide.org/articles/depression/dealing-with-depression.htm

May the Frets be with you.