I know I haven't been on here in a while! Sorry! Life seemed to pick up the pace a little bit and I was struggling to keep up! I've got life pretty much under control - or at least as much as a person can have life under control...
Anyways.
I was talking with my sister's kids on facebook the other day. I am not all that fond of my sister in the first place, but her kids wanted to talk to me, so I agreed. The kids never did anything to me.
The youngest got done talking and the last message she sent was, "I love you, aunt Lara."
Oh geez.
I have a rule that I live by. I don't know if it a good rule, but it seems to work for me.
Don't say "I love you" unless you mean it.
So, when my sister's daughter said she loved me, I froze. I ended up not responding. I felt bad, but I had to decide which was worse - saying an empty I love you or not responding. I chose not to respond.
To me, there is nothing worse than an empty "I love you."
I feel as though I have just had my fill of them and there is no need for them. They just hurt people.
They've hurt me, I know that.
In particular, my best friend in high school would say that she loved me everyday. I, of course, would say it back. I thought she meant it. I'm sure she did at one point. She was also the one that I went to first about the abuse. She didn't believe me and told my abuser what I told her, making the abuse a million times worse. I don't know about you, but to me, someone who loves you wouldn't do that to you. They wouldn't call you a liar and then make your life even worse.
That was when I stopped with saying "I love you" unless I mean it. Only a few people in my life get "I love you." Those people are my best friends and my family. No one else gets them.
Call me stingy, but that is how I feel.
Love is too precious to give away to people who don't deserve it.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Hope Restored
I finally had the opportunity to go to a friend's house for the first time. We have talked a bit online via email and I know her husband really well, but we have never really met.
I felt that I needed to meet her. We have so much in common. It is actually quite creepy. We were both abused, we both have ovarian cysts, and we both have mother issues.
So, I go to their house yesterday at 1pm. I stayed until 11pm! We just kept talking and talking!
I want to share with you a little of what we talked about yesterday. To respect her privacy, I won't use her name.
We started off talking about my mother. Her mommy issues are similar. Her mother didn't leave her physically, but she left her emotionally. She just didn't want her own daughter anymore, so we talked about that for a while.
We eventually got to talking about the abuse. She was so full of wisdom and advice. It was fantastic. I was finally talking to someone who understood. She knew what I was feeling and why.
She told me that I had a beautiful soul. I started crying. I don't feel like I do. I know I do, but I don't necessarily feel it all the time. I want to feel beautiful and feel like I have a beautiful soul.
She told me the best thing I have heard in a very long time:
I felt that I needed to meet her. We have so much in common. It is actually quite creepy. We were both abused, we both have ovarian cysts, and we both have mother issues.
So, I go to their house yesterday at 1pm. I stayed until 11pm! We just kept talking and talking!
I want to share with you a little of what we talked about yesterday. To respect her privacy, I won't use her name.
We started off talking about my mother. Her mommy issues are similar. Her mother didn't leave her physically, but she left her emotionally. She just didn't want her own daughter anymore, so we talked about that for a while.
We eventually got to talking about the abuse. She was so full of wisdom and advice. It was fantastic. I was finally talking to someone who understood. She knew what I was feeling and why.
She told me that I had a beautiful soul. I started crying. I don't feel like I do. I know I do, but I don't necessarily feel it all the time. I want to feel beautiful and feel like I have a beautiful soul.
She told me the best thing I have heard in a very long time:
It gets better.
She brought back my hope. If she says that it gets better, well, then I believe her. She has been through it and she has finally gotten to a point where she can say that it gets better.
My hope is restored. We talked about how the abuse affects every aspect of life from shopping, sex, school, relationships (romantic and not), and religion.
I feel like I can survive all of the craziness that comes with the abuse in regards to those things now.
I feel so much hope now. It was all from just talking with a friend.
What restores your hope?
Friday, June 8, 2012
I am a Sinner
I am a sinner. I was made that way. I was baptized and all of my sins were washed away.
I am still a sinner.
I am not perfect.
Every Sunday (or nearly every Sunday), I go to church. We say this prayer every week and I have not once in my whole life ever thought about what it meant.
I confess to Almighty God,
and to you, my brothers and sisters,
that I have sinned through my own fault,
in my thoughts and in my words,
in what I have done,
and in what I have failed to do;
and I ask blessed Mary, ever virgin,
all the angels and saints,
and you, my brothers and sisters,
to pray for me to the Lord, our God.
So, what does it mean?
I am convinced that for everyone it may have a different meaning. For a priest, it may mean something very different than what it means for me. This is my interpretation of it and how it coincides with my life.
For me, the lines:
I confess to Almighty God,
and to you my brothers and sisters,
They mean to me, that we all have made mistakes. God loves us anyways. We are His children and He will always love us. It can be hard to feel sometimes. Sometimes it feels like we may have done something or acted in a way that makes us feel as though no one could be able to love us.
Especially, after being sexually abused. There were moments last summer that I was so mean to people that tried to help me. I pushed them away (hard) and was bound determined that I could handle anything by myself. I was wrong. I wasn't letting God in and was in need of His love and guidance. I was truly alone and lost.
The next part:
that I have sinned through my own fault,
in my thoughts and in my words,
in what I have done,
and in what I have failed to do;
To me, this means that the mistakes that we make as humans are going to take many different forms. This only touches on a few, but they are a few very broad categories.
Relating this back to sexual abuse, the way that we felt or what we have thought during the abuse may have been sinful in nature. For me, I know that I had thoughts of wishing I could just die. I had thoughts of killing him. These (I've been told) are very normal thoughts considering the situation. God also understands. He forgives. He knows that it happened and He wants us to take from it and turn it into a chance to learn and better ourselves.
and I ask blessed Mary, ever virgin,
all the angels and saints,
and you, my brothers and sisters,
to pray for me to the Lord, our God.
This part is pretty self explanatory. We are forgiven. We are loved no matter what.
I just wish that these prayers were more than just words for people. For me, after being abused, they were a way of life. They were a way of getting myself to believe again and keep my faith. I lived these words. I still try to.
I know that I am a sinner. Being abused makes me feel like I am worse than everyone else, like I did something to wrong God.
This isn't true at all, but what I have been learning lately, sometimes the knowing and feeling parts of your thinking don't quite line up or make that connection.
So, the next time you pray or even talk to God, think, "Am I just going through the motions?"
Make your words and actions take meaning.
I am still a sinner.
I am not perfect.
Every Sunday (or nearly every Sunday), I go to church. We say this prayer every week and I have not once in my whole life ever thought about what it meant.
I confess to Almighty God,
and to you, my brothers and sisters,
that I have sinned through my own fault,
in my thoughts and in my words,
in what I have done,
and in what I have failed to do;
and I ask blessed Mary, ever virgin,
all the angels and saints,
and you, my brothers and sisters,
to pray for me to the Lord, our God.
So, what does it mean?
I am convinced that for everyone it may have a different meaning. For a priest, it may mean something very different than what it means for me. This is my interpretation of it and how it coincides with my life.
For me, the lines:
I confess to Almighty God,
and to you my brothers and sisters,
They mean to me, that we all have made mistakes. God loves us anyways. We are His children and He will always love us. It can be hard to feel sometimes. Sometimes it feels like we may have done something or acted in a way that makes us feel as though no one could be able to love us.
Especially, after being sexually abused. There were moments last summer that I was so mean to people that tried to help me. I pushed them away (hard) and was bound determined that I could handle anything by myself. I was wrong. I wasn't letting God in and was in need of His love and guidance. I was truly alone and lost.
The next part:
that I have sinned through my own fault,
in my thoughts and in my words,
in what I have done,
and in what I have failed to do;
To me, this means that the mistakes that we make as humans are going to take many different forms. This only touches on a few, but they are a few very broad categories.
Relating this back to sexual abuse, the way that we felt or what we have thought during the abuse may have been sinful in nature. For me, I know that I had thoughts of wishing I could just die. I had thoughts of killing him. These (I've been told) are very normal thoughts considering the situation. God also understands. He forgives. He knows that it happened and He wants us to take from it and turn it into a chance to learn and better ourselves.
and I ask blessed Mary, ever virgin,
all the angels and saints,
and you, my brothers and sisters,
to pray for me to the Lord, our God.
This part is pretty self explanatory. We are forgiven. We are loved no matter what.
I just wish that these prayers were more than just words for people. For me, after being abused, they were a way of life. They were a way of getting myself to believe again and keep my faith. I lived these words. I still try to.
I know that I am a sinner. Being abused makes me feel like I am worse than everyone else, like I did something to wrong God.
This isn't true at all, but what I have been learning lately, sometimes the knowing and feeling parts of your thinking don't quite line up or make that connection.
So, the next time you pray or even talk to God, think, "Am I just going through the motions?"
Make your words and actions take meaning.
Friday, June 1, 2012
The Abuse in a Nutshell
I was abused by the same boy over and over.
The abuse took a few different forms.
Verbal. Every day in class I was talked to like I was the dumbest thing on the face of the earth. I was made fun of. I was degraded. I was asked personal questions that no one has the right to know the answers to, but me and maybe my doctor or boyfriend. I was asked double bladed questions that no matter how I would choose to answer, I always lost.
Physical. I was taken to places in the school to be touched. The boys bathroom was a favorite for him. I was touched so much... This part is too hard for me to talk about right now... Eventually, I will be able to do it.
Mental. I was left feeling like I was so small. I lost every ounce of self confidence that I ever had. I felt like I was not worth anything. He made me feel that way so much so, that I couldn't help but think that it was true. I started to doubt everything I thought I knew about myself and God. I started to think that I was supposed to suffer and that maybe I had done something wrong and deserved to be treated like this.
I know now, that none of the above is true.
None of what he did defines me. It has structured my life to be different than others, but it's not supposed to be the same anyways.
I know now, that I am worth everything and then some. Some days it is hard to feel it, but deep down I know it.
It seems odd to say, but I am glad that I am given the opportunity to learn so much about myself. Don't get me wrong, I do wish that I never had to endure such terrible things, but in the end, I think that if anything, it is making me a better person.
The abuse took a few different forms.
Verbal. Every day in class I was talked to like I was the dumbest thing on the face of the earth. I was made fun of. I was degraded. I was asked personal questions that no one has the right to know the answers to, but me and maybe my doctor or boyfriend. I was asked double bladed questions that no matter how I would choose to answer, I always lost.
Physical. I was taken to places in the school to be touched. The boys bathroom was a favorite for him. I was touched so much... This part is too hard for me to talk about right now... Eventually, I will be able to do it.
Mental. I was left feeling like I was so small. I lost every ounce of self confidence that I ever had. I felt like I was not worth anything. He made me feel that way so much so, that I couldn't help but think that it was true. I started to doubt everything I thought I knew about myself and God. I started to think that I was supposed to suffer and that maybe I had done something wrong and deserved to be treated like this.
I know now, that none of the above is true.
None of what he did defines me. It has structured my life to be different than others, but it's not supposed to be the same anyways.
I know now, that I am worth everything and then some. Some days it is hard to feel it, but deep down I know it.
It seems odd to say, but I am glad that I am given the opportunity to learn so much about myself. Don't get me wrong, I do wish that I never had to endure such terrible things, but in the end, I think that if anything, it is making me a better person.
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
My Heart Aches
To celebrate Memorial Day, every year, my family has a picnic.
Now, my grandfather is 84 and in pretty good shape for a man of that age and is still as classy as ever! My great uncle (his brother) is 80. He is not in such great shape. He is in a wheelchair and can't get around very well and he is very depressed and feels like a burden.
So, my great uncle lives in an assisted living type apartment.
My great aunts and her daughters were coming to the picnic as well. He calls them up and asks them for a ride to the picnic. This is all after my grandfather had to change his mind to get him to go. Their response?
"No. We can't. We only want to take one car."
Conversation over.
My grandfather then decides to go himself to get him. He is still able to drive, but it scares the daylights out of me, so my sister went with him while I made some food for the picnic and got some things together.
They get back. We picnic it up and have a great time talking with family and also celebrating my cousin's 12th birthday.
It is time for my great uncle to go home. He says he isn't feeling too well. This was the most he has been outside in a while and it was well over 90 degrees out.
My grandfather says he'll take him home.
I quickly interject and say that he shouldn't. He was working all morning. (Yes, he still works.) He was tired. I said that we would take him home.
Multiple family members were standing there listening to us talk about taking him home. No one, and I mean not a single person even so much as offered to help get him home. No one even offered to get him to the car and help him get in!
It made my heart ache.
I don't understand how I am related to these people. With the exception of my own father, my sisters and my older cousin, I don't understand. I was raised that family comes first - always. You take care of family, and your family will take care of you. That is how it works.
My poor great uncle felt like such a burden. I had to convince him that he wasn't and when I finally did, he admitted that he was happy that he came to the picnic at last minute and that he had a great time.
Shouldn't that be enough of a reason to go out of your way to help him? Who knows how many more picnics he will be able to go to.
There was so much selfishness and it lack of love. They have lost the true meaning of loving each other and having a loving heart.
I have made a decision. I am going to make a difference in this world. I am going to do most of it through music, but I hope that I can make a difference through my actions as well.
It truly makes my heart ache.
Now, my grandfather is 84 and in pretty good shape for a man of that age and is still as classy as ever! My great uncle (his brother) is 80. He is not in such great shape. He is in a wheelchair and can't get around very well and he is very depressed and feels like a burden.
So, my great uncle lives in an assisted living type apartment.
My great aunts and her daughters were coming to the picnic as well. He calls them up and asks them for a ride to the picnic. This is all after my grandfather had to change his mind to get him to go. Their response?
"No. We can't. We only want to take one car."
Conversation over.
My grandfather then decides to go himself to get him. He is still able to drive, but it scares the daylights out of me, so my sister went with him while I made some food for the picnic and got some things together.
They get back. We picnic it up and have a great time talking with family and also celebrating my cousin's 12th birthday.
It is time for my great uncle to go home. He says he isn't feeling too well. This was the most he has been outside in a while and it was well over 90 degrees out.
My grandfather says he'll take him home.
I quickly interject and say that he shouldn't. He was working all morning. (Yes, he still works.) He was tired. I said that we would take him home.
Multiple family members were standing there listening to us talk about taking him home. No one, and I mean not a single person even so much as offered to help get him home. No one even offered to get him to the car and help him get in!
It made my heart ache.
I don't understand how I am related to these people. With the exception of my own father, my sisters and my older cousin, I don't understand. I was raised that family comes first - always. You take care of family, and your family will take care of you. That is how it works.
My poor great uncle felt like such a burden. I had to convince him that he wasn't and when I finally did, he admitted that he was happy that he came to the picnic at last minute and that he had a great time.
Shouldn't that be enough of a reason to go out of your way to help him? Who knows how many more picnics he will be able to go to.
There was so much selfishness and it lack of love. They have lost the true meaning of loving each other and having a loving heart.
I have made a decision. I am going to make a difference in this world. I am going to do most of it through music, but I hope that I can make a difference through my actions as well.
It truly makes my heart ache.
Saturday, May 26, 2012
I Am Broken
I am broken.
I came to this conclusion reading another person's blog.
This made me realize I was broken.
What does that mean for me though?
Well, my broken and your broken may be two completely different things. Some people can handle more or less than others, which is just fine. It is the way we are made.
I think that I have a broken sense of love.
I know that my family loves me, but when it comes to people outside of my family, I either love too quickly or am unable to love or let them love me. I want them to love me so that I can fill that spot in my heart that my mother abandoned. It is like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole though. It never seems to work.
I know for a fact though, that I am not nearly as broken as I used to be.
I thank the Lord every night for my progress. I just wish He would help me to figure out my brokenness and help to fix me and put my pieces back together.
It is a process, I guess.
I came to this conclusion reading another person's blog.
This made me realize I was broken.
What does that mean for me though?
Well, my broken and your broken may be two completely different things. Some people can handle more or less than others, which is just fine. It is the way we are made.
I think that I have a broken sense of love.
I know that my family loves me, but when it comes to people outside of my family, I either love too quickly or am unable to love or let them love me. I want them to love me so that I can fill that spot in my heart that my mother abandoned. It is like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole though. It never seems to work.
I know for a fact though, that I am not nearly as broken as I used to be.
I thank the Lord every night for my progress. I just wish He would help me to figure out my brokenness and help to fix me and put my pieces back together.
It is a process, I guess.
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Ultrasounds
So, I had some ultrasounds done today.
Not my favorite way to spend a Thursday, but you got to do what you got to do.
I'm not going to lie, I have been stressing over this for the last week.
I had to get a regular pelvic ultrasound and a vaginal ultrasound. They basically stuck a wand type thing up my hoo-ha. It was not pleasant.
I survived though.
I had to tell the technician doing it about my concerns.
That is one thing I highly recommend if you have ever been abused and need to get these done. Talk to the technician! Tell him/her your concerns and fears! It will definitely make you feel better! They can't read your mind, so don't expect them to know!
Because I told my technician about my past, she said that at any time, I could tell her to stop.
I WAS IN CONTROL.
I didn't have to tell her to stop because she did a fantastic and quick job and got all the pictures she needed, but the option was there. I was in control over what she was doing to my body and it made me feel more at ease.
I want to let you know, that I did not just go into the doctor's office and got it done and left. No. It wasn't that simple for me.
I had to mentally prepare myself for like 4 days. No joke.
I have been practicing my deep breathing and deciding on what to think of to keep myself grounded and in control of my thoughts and feelings.
It worked.
I am not going to lie, I am pretty proud of myself. I did it. I kept myself in control and kept my thoughts (mostly) under control and calm.
I am getting closer to a happier and healthier life through all of these different obstacles.
Not my favorite way to spend a Thursday, but you got to do what you got to do.
I'm not going to lie, I have been stressing over this for the last week.
I had to get a regular pelvic ultrasound and a vaginal ultrasound. They basically stuck a wand type thing up my hoo-ha. It was not pleasant.
I survived though.
I had to tell the technician doing it about my concerns.
That is one thing I highly recommend if you have ever been abused and need to get these done. Talk to the technician! Tell him/her your concerns and fears! It will definitely make you feel better! They can't read your mind, so don't expect them to know!
Because I told my technician about my past, she said that at any time, I could tell her to stop.
I WAS IN CONTROL.
I didn't have to tell her to stop because she did a fantastic and quick job and got all the pictures she needed, but the option was there. I was in control over what she was doing to my body and it made me feel more at ease.
I want to let you know, that I did not just go into the doctor's office and got it done and left. No. It wasn't that simple for me.
I had to mentally prepare myself for like 4 days. No joke.
I have been practicing my deep breathing and deciding on what to think of to keep myself grounded and in control of my thoughts and feelings.
It worked.
I am not going to lie, I am pretty proud of myself. I did it. I kept myself in control and kept my thoughts (mostly) under control and calm.
I am getting closer to a happier and healthier life through all of these different obstacles.
Saturday, May 19, 2012
Pelvic Exam
So, I went to the doctor yesterday. It was supposed to be a follow up for my depression meds.
I have been having some lower left pelvic pain, so I told my doctor. She asked some questions...blah blah blah. She said that she thinks it is ovarian cysts. So, a pelvic exam was in order to rule out any other problems.
I have never had a pelvic exam before. I was quite scared. With my past, I was worried how I would handle it.
Thankfully, my doctor knows of my past and she is very understanding. She is just wonderful!
So, the exam begins. It was the worst thing ever! I have never been so uncomfortable and in that much pain from any type of physical exam! So, not only was I in some pain from the exam because I couldn't relax, but there was also the pain that I have been feeling before the exam even began!
To add to all of that I was feeling so many different emotions. My doctor apologized a million times for having to do that (love her). I was just so uncomfortable and feeling so many things that I can't even begin to describe!
So, it was finished and I went to sit up and I nearly passed out. My doctor asked if I was okay, and I said that I felt like I was going to pass out, so she had me lay back down and got me some water. I just don't think my body or my mind was ready for something like that. I feel so embarrassed that I handled it so poorly. I should be stronger than that.
Even though I do feel ashamed of myself, I am slightly proud. I got through it. I survived one more obstacle in this whole thing! I hope that this story is inspirational for someone. I waited a month before going to the doctor because I knew that I was going to have to have a pelvic exam and I didn't want it. It shouldn't be that way. I need to take care of my body.
I am strong and this is proof that I am surviving. :)
I have been having some lower left pelvic pain, so I told my doctor. She asked some questions...blah blah blah. She said that she thinks it is ovarian cysts. So, a pelvic exam was in order to rule out any other problems.
I have never had a pelvic exam before. I was quite scared. With my past, I was worried how I would handle it.
Thankfully, my doctor knows of my past and she is very understanding. She is just wonderful!
So, the exam begins. It was the worst thing ever! I have never been so uncomfortable and in that much pain from any type of physical exam! So, not only was I in some pain from the exam because I couldn't relax, but there was also the pain that I have been feeling before the exam even began!
To add to all of that I was feeling so many different emotions. My doctor apologized a million times for having to do that (love her). I was just so uncomfortable and feeling so many things that I can't even begin to describe!
So, it was finished and I went to sit up and I nearly passed out. My doctor asked if I was okay, and I said that I felt like I was going to pass out, so she had me lay back down and got me some water. I just don't think my body or my mind was ready for something like that. I feel so embarrassed that I handled it so poorly. I should be stronger than that.
Even though I do feel ashamed of myself, I am slightly proud. I got through it. I survived one more obstacle in this whole thing! I hope that this story is inspirational for someone. I waited a month before going to the doctor because I knew that I was going to have to have a pelvic exam and I didn't want it. It shouldn't be that way. I need to take care of my body.
I am strong and this is proof that I am surviving. :)
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