Choosing my Disorder

I was 13 years old, sitting in my choir class, when I realized something weird was going on in my body. It was an ‘unexplainable’ discomfort that I only felt at the time in my diaghram, usually when I sang. I thought I was having bowel movement issues at first. While riding in the car, this weird discomfort would go ballistic. I reacted in a way that resembled a seizure. My mom was completely freaked out so she took me to my primary doctor. He could not diagnose me.

A sinking feeling I never had before began drowning me.

He referred us to a neurologist, which freaked me out more because I discovered in that moment something was imbalanced in my brain. The nice doctor was able to quickly diagnose me with Tourette’s.

I want to delve deeper into my disorder. It causes physical pain, but the mental pain is much worse. The first couple years were rough. I was bullied, people would mimic my condition (tics) and my want to leave the house was becoming a huge chore.

I feared being close to people because my arms would flare without warning. Singing became almost impossible because it would be hard to breath or react to my tics because if I didn’t, it would cause huge discomfort. My arms, legs, stomach, and eyes feel pain every five seconds. Like muscles spasms 24/7.
I watched a girl move her stomach really fast in class, as mine does constantly, and laugh at me with her friends. In the middle of class.

I feared being laughed at and hearing jokes like, “why can’t you keep still? You got Tourette’s? Wow, you’re so weird!” I felt alone. Outcasted. Depressed. I wanted my life to be over. It became too much for me my junior year. My dad had to tell me to be confident and accept this disorder as a part of me, or rejection would destroy me.

Overtime, I chose to live life with my disorder. I helped a young girl with her own disorder when she wanted to commit suicide one day. That moment made me realize that this disorder is a way for me to have a positive voice in a dark world.

Waiting is REALLY Worth It

I remember that day vividly. On a warm summer evening in July, I was feeling a sudden inspiration all the while being over cumbered with grief from a broken relationship, to start a blog. I excitedly texted my good friend Jinny that I would turn my aching pain into words for a part of my story and she couldn’t have been more thrilled for me. Writing really is a coping mechanism for me to release stubborn emotions. I frantically searched and found multiple sites on how to set up a blog, etc. I picked a site, a name, and what my writing would be based on. I then took it to the next level and clicked on the plus icon to start my first post!

That’s when it hit me.

I knew what I had to write about. I suddenly felt less excited and more anxious and sad. If I were to get my message out there as well as my emotions, I knew I was going to have to face them.

I had to re-experience the pain, anger, fear, and sadness I felt about that broken relationship and to find a way to put them into words and share it with strangers. That was NOT an easy thing to do. I knew I had to turn to God and pray my heart out about it. As time went on, my heart was letting go a lot of intense emotion and I felt an overwhleming peace about my past.

I wrote about my pain and how I coped with it (only through the power of Jesus Christ). I wrote about the seasons I had experienced: my love season with God and the importance of singleness, the pain with dating and to watch out for wolves in sheep clothing, and eventually about my season of severe depression and where I considered suicide last year.

This post today is a loving one. A post that reminds my heart why I started this blog in the first place. I’m sitting here at my black kitchen table with a mason jar full of sweet tea, glancing over at my husband of almost 2 months, just thanking Abba Father above that every tearful, daunting, dark nights I cried from sadness, the days screaming in my car full of anger, and praying and worshiping until my lungs almost collapsed led to this: waiting is REALLY worth it.

I found the love I was looking for in a person, but it goes beyond that. I found someone whom I love getting to drink coffee with every single morning. Whom I love getting to pick groceries and figure out a budget plan with every month. A love that lasts more than a Sunday. 3 years ago I was broken, lost, and then found me. I fell in love with being alone and enjoying me. Now, I fell in love with my husband and never want to be without him.

Purest Bliss

The sun poured into my window like a flowing stream

Its colors of orange and yellow bursting with gleam

I arose differently that day, as if I were on a cloud

No dark storm or aching pain could ever overcrowd

I swooped up the lace dress draped with jewels

Twirling and dancing as my feet hit against the toole

This day had finally come, the day I have dreamt

The man I was about to marry, who will forever bring my heart content

My life changing for the better, my heart at the fullest

My friend, my husband, my love of the purest bliss

 

Sparrow

I sat looking outside my frosted window; gazed upon a mother Sparrow with her babies

Three little beaks screeching loudly as they begged for their breakfast

I imagined what extremes the mother Sparrow must have taken to get her babies their meal

The brisk, cold winds cutting against her wings like shards of glass, or a hungered predator feasting his eyes on her elegant colors that enticed all creatures wide

Yet she pushed through bravely and boldly; determined to return to her kin to make sure their needs were met before her own

That’s the Savior’s love for you and I. It surpasses all human comprehension and breaks all the barriers of life.

That Sparrow would have gave her life if it meant her children were loved and cared for, so how much our Savior has the same love for us.

Shallow End

The golden suns shines brightly onto the restless ocean.

I watch as the waves would crash against the shallow end; crawling up the shore higher and higher each time.

I walk towards the water, feeling the soft sand and sharp shells press against the soles of my feet.

I enter toe deep at first, allowing the coldness to seep into my skin like wax from a burning candle.

The ocean reminds my restless mind that it is easy to be sucked into the tide after steeping off the safeness of the shallow end, but the current has other plans.

It devours our pathways and it becomes almost impossible to find once we want to return to the shallow end.

I choose, now, to stay on the shore where the sand is soft and warm from the sun’s tireless, beaming rays. Where I am safe from the chaos and raging storms that lie ahead.

Adoration.

We become what we adore.

Isn’t that such a sinking statement? That whatever or whomever we invest our time into, we morph into what it is.

Some things can be full of life and vibrancy. Shaping our perspectives and growing our minds.

Others… can slowly, secretly, and painfully begin to kill us off. Until all that is left is our burnt ashes.

Adoration is a dangerous plateau. It makes our heart yearn after whatever or whomever we want to fulfill our desires. We can put a hold on things that once captured our hearts in a positive way.

Mine was walking outside watching the wind dance with the tree branches. I watched as the sky kissed the lake beside me, two lovers that no storm or skipping rock could break apart.

My mind became dark once I stopped seeking the light. That’s the thing about wandering, often times you begin to get lost. You can allow infatuated adoration consume your soul and churn your blood until it feels cold.

I’m ripping layers of sinful adoration off of my dry skin. New layers are being purified, hardened, and built with a tactical protection so that I can never latch onto what was trying to destroy me again.

I adore my Love, the One who saved my dead soul. He gave up His life so I could keep living mine. In His shadow I’ll forever be safe.

Fabricated.

Dust. Dust swarms around all of us. It creates thick and clumpy colonies in the darkest parts of our homes. Observing dust we can see the tangled cobwebs and particles collected over time. I am writing about the dust because my heart has been encaged in it.

I have allowed my heart time and time again to slip into the silkiness of sin, at first feeling comfortable and beautiful, but then the silk starts to itch and stick to the bareness of my skin.

I couldn’t escape the cobwebs entangled in my soul. I wanted to run away. I wanted to do anything to make the pain stop. Some points at the end of last year I gambled how much my life was worth and considered ending it.

My breath began to sharpen like a knife.

My sight became foggy and unclear.

My skin cracked and bled.

I thought it was done. I thought this was the end. I thought my life had said its Adieu.

And through that blinding pain and array of silence… I felt the touch. A touch that was able to penetrate the gnawing agony drowning my brain.

I know the Lord has been patient with me. He has interceded through the stickiness of cobwebs in my soul. HeÔÇÖs breaking any fabricated thought the enemy has created and I have kept believing. I am pushing through this.