Coach: and if he told you he was gonna rip off the bandaid you woulda snatched your booboo back
me: yeah…so in comes you with the super glue…to hold me down while I freak out….and point out what is happening…
This is a snippet of a chat conversation with Coach, about control, among other things, and my need for it. As I thought about our conversation and actually re-read it (Thank God for Google, that saves conversations), a memory came to mind.
I remember as a small child going to a Dr.’s office/hospital, not sure which, and being literally held down by Dr.’s and nurses and even my mom, while they did whatever it was they needed to do. My mom does not remember such an incident ever taking place. But I do, very clearly and very vividly. I do not know why I was brought to this place or what was going on except that they wanted to stick a huge needle in my hand. In my child’s mind, it seemed to be 10 inches long, but I can’t imagine any needle literally having to be that big for a small child’s hand, so my fear must have been exaggerating the size. Since mom doesn’t recall ever having to hold her fighting child down for such a thing to happen, I would normally doubt this memory, except I have a scar right where I remember them sticking this needle. So, something happened. I suspect, that perhaps I was being held down while they sedated me, so that they could do the “rape exam” on me that they do when someone reports sexual abuse. After they managed to get the needle in, I do not remember anything else except falling asleep. But I know this. Whatever it was that was going on, I was terrified. I was overwhelmed. And I didn’t understand. This is how I have felt the last few days, when my mind wasn’t otherwise occupied by activity. As an adult, I know it doesn’t matter what was really going on, but whatever it was, it was necessary for me to be still and to submit and to trust. (side note: There may have been better ways of achieving this, but that is another topic)
Coach and I were talking about all of the things that were going on that led to my post yesterday (Fight to the Finish) and he managed to point some things out to me, that through my fear and my tears, I was finally able to hear. But before I share I am clear that this is not the totality of the struggle, it is one piece, a big one, but only one.
My struggle has shifted from merely losing weight, developing discipline and habits, learning to exercise and to enjoy it, to really looking at and seeing all of the shit that my weight has covered up. This is no longer a theoretical conversation about fears and doubts and insecurities. It is no longer a simple acknowledgment that my abuse has played a significant role in my world view. It has now shifted to butting heads with those thoughts and feelings in a very real way and I suspect that as I continue on, it is only going to get more real and scarier as I continue to put myself out there and be vulnerable. It is now about learning to let go of the control I cling so tightly to. The control I keep in check to keep me safe and to keep others a safe distance away.
I have let all of you in to my story, my fears, and my journey. I have let a few others like Coach and Aaron in even further, maybe too much. I have slowly, very slowly begun to let some of my family in to my struggle. It has left me suddenly feeling very naked and vulnerable and afraid and often as I feel the onslaught of emotions I even feel crazy. Seriously, how do you feel so much all at once and not feel crazy? I think perhaps the answer may lie in not trying to control it or justify it or rationalize it.
At one point, Coach pointed out that perhaps the most difficult and scary part is yet to come. That is, to walk through the emotions with God and to trust Him, to let Him have control. Trust him to do the surgery on my heart that needs to be done to make it whole again. A lot of work has been done in this past year. I have learned so much. I feel like this past year has been one open heart surgery after another. You would think I might be done by now.
A year ago, God pretty much told me he was gonna be doing surgery on my heart as He invited me to the Retelling Class. I think on some level, I thought when that class was done, this chapter of my life could be closed and things would get easier. Then God moved on to the forgiveness aspect, and I thought, ok, if I can get this down, then I can be done with this chapter. But the more I move into those things, the more things get stirred up. The more I see how fucked up(sorry for the language, but I don’t know a better way to describe this) I am. The more there is to work on. And frankly I am tired of surgery, especially when He just starts cutting and doesn’t give me any warning. Who wouldn’t freak out about that!
So I freaked out first in my head, then Coach caught me online before I could hide from him. And in some ways, as I have thought about this, I feel like he was like those doctors and nurses who held me down way back when. Not to cause me harm, but to slow me down, so I can see the big picture in the middle of a freakout.
Last year, I feel like God was all about using anesthesia. You know kind that you stay awake for, you can feel the pressure, you know what is happening and can even communicate? Right now, now so much. No anesthesia. No going to sleep and waking up all better. Instead, He has henchman, who he calls my friends, to hold me down while He performs His work…or at least long enough to see that THAT is what is happening, so I can choose to submit and trust Him, or not.
So right now, I am pinned. Surgery is about to take place, on exactly what I am not for certain. Probably the control portion of my heart/head, and I have to decide, am I gonna let my need for control go and trust that my Creator knows how I was meant to be, before life hit, and only He can put me back together again.
I choose trust…I choose trust…I choose trust…