Saturday, June 26, 2010

Weeding...

I'm sitting here, baking in the night, still in Chicago, leaving tomorrow for Acworth, where I will be baking even worse because there is no heat upstairs. Both places have no AC. The city is far better.

Against my better judgment, siding with the stubborn judgment, I just had to write this post. I deliberately got the Borders coupon, that was in my email, written down so that I could purchase Beth Moore's new book, So Long, Insecurity. Chief of my weakness as a young woman is this one, which, besides by my wild, internalized emotional life, is evidenced through the physical representation of an overweight body. Who could resist a title like that?

And I began reading it tonight. Late (which is stupid, since I have to get up early tomorrow to start my journey home). But something that was very real to me, which I have known about for going on 6 or 7 years was, again, brought to my attention by the book. Now, so much of it is stating the obvious for me (the beginning part of the book, that is), but none so real as the beginning portion about relationships causing insecurity. God broke me of a compulsive plate-clearing habit that I had due to social anxiety. Every time I would go out with friends to eat, I would rapidly eat, which would neutralize the acid churning in my stomach. This had become so habitual, so subtle, that I did not notice it until it was gone when God healed me of MAJOR anxiety issues (shortness of breath, loss of appetite [what happens when the anxiety is to much and the acid makes me nauseated], heart palpitations, compulsive social eating [I say this because the other eating is still there]) February 15, 2009. But anxiety continues in a different way...I lost a lot of fear then, but not all of it.

When I was reading the book tonight, I prayed beforehand that God would let me feel it. I prayed that He would let it hit me like I needed it. And for whatever reason, I began thinking why so much of my insecurity has to do with male relationships, and why I feel like my feelings in all relationships are illegitimate (if someone hurts my feelings, I won't confront them because I think they will stop being my friend and that I "deserve" (in a way) to have hurt feelings). And I couldn't help but think about my dad. But why? I also feel like, now, brace yourselves, I'm gonna be completely transparent here, why has my sexual desire felt so out of control for so long? This is something that I am silent on, but I need to address it here to convey the very imperative things I'm beginning to realize.

I thought about my dad...and my eyes just opened wide. I'm going to attempt to articulate it with clarity, something I'm not very good at. I thought about my mom and my dad. And I thought about the kind of person my dad was, and something just wasn't right. I kept thinking, something with guys and sexual desire (don't worry, this is not headed where some may think it is) and feeling like my feelings don't matter has to do with my dad. Then it clicked. I ALWAYS knew. I always knew that my dad was just physical. What I mean by that, is that I feel like his interactions with my mom (and consequently us) were of a physical presence, physical affection and that was all he was here for - that's all he could afford us, that's all he could offer. And it occurred to me that I felt used in a way, that he wanted credit just for physically being there, not emotional, not relational, not mental. And, I think when I saw this, I really felt like he did not love my mom. I think he didn't really know how to. But, I think that he didn't. And I think that's why I felt like I was competing for his attention. I recognized (without knowing it as a kid), that I wanted his attention and that it was a competition. Not against anyone, perhaps against his own person. But I felt inferior and undeserving because I lost the competition. And I think I translated that into a monster that I am having to wrestle.

What's the monster? I think it was the way that I coped, that really damaged my relationship with my mom, and damaged me as a person. I think I am unnaturally like my father. I know that growing up, I idolized him (which, I think my mom did, too, a learned trait, maybe). I believe I found him superior to myself - I think he even treated himself that way in relation to my mom, and while identifying with my same sex parent, I think I borrowed that identity from her. At the same time, I wanted to be like my idol. So I think I also borrowed his identity of being superior, so far as to feeling superior to her, the way I think he felt. I never let go of the inferiority (which I think is the reason why I am fearful in friendships - dad-relationships are so powerful, and I think it made me conscientious, more than the rejections I faced in school, of getting hurt and because my feelings didn't matter to him, they didn't matter at all), but I think I began to reject my mom. I've been trying to figure out some of my rebellion towards her, coming up dry. Some of the mother-daughter hurts, though very strong and real, just could not explain something I felt to be ingrained. I think I identified with my dad's personality and took on the trait of "feeling superior" to my mom (and even people like her). He would confide in me the frustrations he had with her, and being so much like him in thought and speech, I would absorb this and conform my behavior to fit this very bad habit. And I did as my idol did.

The profound effect of this was that I did not respect my mom. And I still struggle with this, in truth. It's not that there are not legitimate things that dinged that respect on their own, but the fuel had kept the fire stoked more than what simple forgiveness would quench. But I also felt my dad ignoring me, like I feel he did her. And I think even his coping mechanism for people hurting him is built to seem impenetrable. That I adopted, too, to the point where I did not cry and did not feel allowed to say that I was hurt or want to admit that I was - that would be weakness (and it WAS weakness to pretend to be okay because it was born out of fear). But I was getting hurt and looking stoic all the same. And when I couldn't take it anymore, I exploded. Really, screaming, crying fits of brokenness that just flooded from the suppression of the pain. And my mom did not handle these well - or know how to handle them at all. At that point, I don't even think she was on the healing bend, it was more like all of us were managing our pain, rather than getting better at healing it.

Back to the physical part of this discussion. I think I was competing for my dad's emotions, and he was physical presence. I wanted the warmth (and security) of that attention. I did not get it. He could not give it. And I think I recognized that my mom wasn't getting it either, though I couldn't articulate it at the time, and my mom was probably focused on other things too. I think that's why I shut up emotionally. It was hurting to want that, and not get it. And I wasn't learning what it was or ought to be, I was coping with the absence. And I was becoming the same sort of person. To this day, just being in the physical presence of a friend can fill my bucket some of the way - I'm functional even in the dysfunction. But something still wasn't and isn't right. I can still leave and shut people out of my life, shutting out the pain of the severance and moving on. I choke it out. But doing that has created other problems.

What is the greatest form of intimacy? In earthly terms, sex. Without a doubt. Not only do people understand this, it is also communicated in many ways through the Bible as well as parents who are trying to educate their kids. I think for me, for what ever healthy desire I do have, has been turned into a problem due to dramatic increase that I am more than uncomfortable with. I think it has to do with deprivation of emotional intimacy. I think because I've just become physical, like my dad, physically here, there, present, doing, being, and because I'm underdeveloped in emotional health and relationships, the expression of intimacy for someone who is basically physical is reduced to physical intimacy. As if that's the only way to get to any basic emotions. Though that's an oversimplification, it makes way too much sense to someone like me whose trying to navigate the waters of what the mess is going on in this screwed up brain of mine and why I feel like desires I want to channel into marriage are out of control now. I feel like I can't emotionally connect to people, and that is throwing everything into a shambles. But I'm feeling better already by working this out in my head.

I mentioned male relationships before. I'm telling you, kids know what they cannot know but don't know it until they really know it later. In realizing this tonight, I can tell you that the source of much anger was exposed. Tears just streamed out of my eyes with a few sobs, as I was much more upset, in all this epiphany, in the treatment of my mom, who did love with real emotions. And therein was the source of anger and pain, the injustice of the poor reciprocation of that. The acknowledgement of what was missing, the disparity of love that I witnessed - I feel like my dad used us in a way, and that we were merely in earnest (and innocent) in our desires, whether we were aware of what was missing or not - came barreling to my attention with full-force emotion, and I could feel my heart pounding with the physical response to that reality. And, I think the injustice, while I am not a psychologist, has subconsciously impacted the way I react to male relationships. I view men very often as cold, selfish, and, what a shock, unfeeling, thinking only of themselves and what's in it for them. And while I have evidence that would back up a conscious suspiciousness, like before, it cannot account for what I feel to be embedded and too strong for healthy functioning. For this reason, around guys, I become keenly self-conscious and switch to competition mode (though I rarely act on it, if ever, but the gears are turning, and often, for all the suppression of it, the stifling turns to non-stop talking). At the same time, the feeling that I have of inferiority (that I can NOW identify), low self-worth, and then anger about "being made to feel that way" [though, this is my perception that's making me a victim, not men in general] leaves me with dissatisfaction after interacting. (Poor dudes, they have NO IDEA that all this CRAZY is running through my mind...it's about the only running I do). All this is ascribed to them in the nut-house known as Erin. It's why it's such a terrible distraction - regardless of attraction - for me to interact with single men. But it makes so much sense.

To close this long post, I should state that these are initial thoughts. They are not yet permanent truths or understandings because I don't feel like all of the psychobabble has evaporated off of them yet. But this is how the process normally goes before God says a single sentence in my Spirit, and I am completely FREED of something huge. I usually understand or get my thoughts out in writing, trying to make sense of things (and getting somewhat close), then God in His mercy makes an incredible clearing and understanding of things, and it's as if they are laid to rest.

A final note:
Though I have written about my dad here, I do not feel that he consciously intended to do me or my mom wrong in the early years at all. In fact, I feel no bitterness in writing this, only sadness, and perhaps understanding for why he made the choices he did later, however unjustifiable - that he, himself, has a lot of problems with emotional connection and coping in a healthy way with what he is feeling. Though sin is present and we commit it, though it is wrong for us to believe that we are above anyone else, it cannot and never should be denied that all mankind experiences pain that affects them in profound ways at crucial times, and that this can spell disaster for generations to come through multiplied sinning. My goal here is to understand the "whys" as they relate to my unhealthy existence on God's earth and to kill the sin in my own life with as much speed as my submission to God's will and empowering of the Holy Spirit can muster. I cannot (and will not) blame my parents for any shortcomings that exposed propensities for sinning in my own flesh that I walked into. The exposure of them is not sin, the walking into them is. Please know that I love both of my parents very much. My desire is for insight, acknowledgement, forgiveness and healing. All this brought to you by the power of a Holy God of mercy, truth, and love.

Thursday, June 24, 2010

Sweltering in the Windy City...

Chicago - besides being absolutely partial and biased (who isn't? be real), I know Chicago to be one of the greatest cities on the earth - definitely in the top five. While I probably wouldn't live in a city (watch God have me go to a city somewhere to live forever), this is one that I could imagine myself living in.

Now, for the fun part. You may or may not have heard of the very common "Nina." Often times, I will imitate this wild woman's voice, invoking Puerto Ricans (and a dose of "crazy") from my magnificent and mad ancestry. There is a demon around every bush, a warning for every common practice, and a "be caarfool" with every departure. Common phrases include "¡Que barbaridad!" (which literally means "What barbarity!" but in common slang, it means "How awful!" or "What a shame"). She can be heard saying it after every bit of depressing news, shocking news...or good news... Honestly, I think the market for bad news lives with fussy grandmothers who must warn you that going into the fence- in, gated backyard at twilight could spell "baad nyews" for you....

¡Imáginate! Is another expression for "can you believe it (that awfulness)" "imagine that (awful thing)!" Often said to herself, expressing her appall at people who aren't moral, aren't wise, and simply, don't know much. By all accounts she is perhaps the wisest woman you'd meet mixed with a dose of silly. Her new phrase is, "Loord, eets so hard to be homble" which she says to herself as she cleans the kitchen counters for the 14th time in the morning...

Yesterday (Tuesday, but Wednesday early am) I came home from my other aunt's house very late (2:25 am, but I came in at 3:00 because it took me 35 minutes to find a parking space), and there she was, waiting... she could have called, she has my phone number, she new I was an hour and 15 minutes away, so I might stay the night... and she came to unlock the back gate (though I had a key), and her speech began.

Unlike our current president, my grandmother does not mince words (or curse at me, though if she wanted to "kick my ass" she could), but rather says "I don't know about Atlanta, but in Cheecago, you can't come in late..." then my favorite phrase, of all of the phrases! "Nevehr in my life I come home thees late at 3 in da morneen." "Never in my life" has become my favorite cliché phrases, because it indicates that, by virtue of never having done it, she has beat me in the competition of not doing it, and is therefore, better. I said nothing (chuckling to myself, because in Athens, I must have come home more than three months worth of days, past 3 am in the morning, having done something like study, written a paper, gone to karaoke, or just sat up talking to a friend). I could have said "Never in my life have I fallen in love with a Mexican poet, married him at 16, and had my first kid at 17..." and won the Stanley Cup of "never doing" but, that might not be justified as "better" (because Mexican poets are alluring and children are a blessing), and it was 3 am, and she is my funny grandma, and I was, by far, more ill-humored about parking than I could ever be at my concerned grandma. I thought to call, but I thought she'd be asleep (I had keys to the house!!!).

Then, today, as I was telling her that I would leave tomorrow (which is now), Thursday, she said, "Why?!? Why you need to go tomoorow?" And I was surprised... she sounded like she was going to argue me out of it. DANGER! DANGER! So I backed off a little about the leaving. When a 4'9" Puerto Rican who raised 5 kids alone wants to argue you out of your decision, just say "sure." And now, I begin the scheming of escaping from Chi-town. It will be tricky, but I'll make sure to get my aunt (whose house I've called Home Base for the week) to talk sense.

Now I'm stuck in a favorite city to be stuck in... planning my escape for "sometime-o-clock" Thursday. I'll be downloading more sermons to listen to in the morning for the drive. Life is good, and it's been great to be welcomed, fed, entertained, listened to, left alone, and myself. I feel like I've had an actual vacation for once in a long time. I'm glad it was just me that came up. My heart is glad.


Tuesday, June 22, 2010

Traveling...

In scouring what I want to do and who I want to be, my dream is to travel. And take photographs of beautiful places. Sometimes I think I want to be famous. I love those Globe Trekker videos so much - I love the history, the destinations, everything. I like the travel channel. But I find it hard to watch when I'm here an someone else is there.

A friend was selected for an amazing internship - and she's simply an amazing person herself, but I find myself so jealous! :) She's living a dream I want to be in! But it gets me thinking, how can I get out there, traveling? I thought about being a flight attendant for the benefits. I remember when I was hired as a teacher, thinking 4 months in, how did I get here? Was this what I wanted? And I thought, no, this wasn't the plan - I was just gonna be a flight attendant so I could travel. I wanted to purchase an expensive camera so I could take the shots I wanted.

But those dreams don't pay the bills. And another tug on my heart was full-time ministry. Yeah, that doesn't pay the bills either. But it's so hard with dreams on delay. I think, lately, I've been needing to do some good old-fashioned praying. I've read and I've listened to sermons, but I think I need to get in the prayer closet and pray. I need the glimmer of hope and I want to live life for Jesus, and I don't think that means being depressed all the time (unless you are the prophet Jeremiah).

Monday, June 7, 2010

Beauty for ashes...

It was a hard week. And I will cry tomorrow, though it will be in the car, where no one can see and only the 2 people who read this blog will know. :) The career fair, in my opinion, was a bust. The only available Spanish jobs are those of my colleagues at other schools who lost their positions - and they were there too. Both of them. It was hard to look at the long list of openings at my school and the line of people, knowing there was no place for me. It makes me said remembering it even now. But there is a silver lining - the possibility of teaching ESOL - English Speakers of Other Lanugages. Or ESL, English as a Second Language. I know the district person through another connection, so who knows, but I'm simply going to be patient. My problem is not fighting for what I need, it's waiting for it.

That being said, however hard and emotionally challenging this past week has been, and this current one is, God's graciousness has shown through in another, unrelated, but liberating and soothing way.

Saturday, I went out for a walk in one of those abandoned neighborhood things in Paulding - really, two of them. The first was too close to noise, but I walked, in the sun, with the clouds providing some reprieve every few minutes. There was a wonderful breeze despite the humidity. And as I walked, I intended to pray, but I found myself telling the Lord simply, "Here I am." I didn't even verbalize my prayers or think straight thoughts. I was just quiet. I thought, why so many words? He knows what's going on because it was sifted through His hands. And so, there I was, feeling like a child because I knew that I had underlying frustration that I couldn't solve my own problem, and I wanted an answer right there. I'm so much about solutions that, sometimes, my drive for their arrival precludes the lessons I might gain in the waiting, or even feeling anything pleasant at all. So I walked, thanking God for the creation that he had made, the scents, the quiet, the clouds, the beautiful things. I went back to the car. Then to the next neighborhood.

I drove around a bit, looking for a neighborhood with underdevelopment issues - it took me a bit, but I ended up in Edenwood. It had a nice secluded area, and it was pretty. I sat down and read my Bible. I read about the Israelites seeking passage through cities and all the opposition they faced. How God communicated. How they had waited, then how God began to send them where they needed to go. I love reading that history. It's something that feels stabilizing to my heart. And I read in Isaiah about how sin separates us from God - and I was wondering if there were many, many things I wasn't asking forgiveness for - if something was causing distance. So I prayed that scary prayer - that one where you ask God to reveal your sin to you. Man, I know I hate to know how awful I am. But I can't get better if I don't acknowledge what's wrong. Well people do not need a doctor. Sick people do. So I prayed that too.

Then I left. The night before, I had enjoyed time with precious friends from church whose son was graduating. It was something very meaningful for them and for all of us who were graciously allowed to participate in celebrating. I love these times in the summer, but more than that, I love sitting with the women who are my mom's age and ten years younger. Since many people from our church were there, I got some special time to sit and chat with different ladies. I like listening to their stories, hearing their advice, taking in their encouragement, laughing. I just love gleaning from them. And there is something very healing for me in talking about the difficulty of what's going on with my job.

Through all the emotional hardship, as I have been getting ready here and there, this and that, the daily routine of doing it has ministered to me in the strangest way. This weekend, my overwhelming heart feeling as I looked in the mirror was beautiful. It's weird for me to talk about beauty. I feel it's such a personal issue and so easily damaged that I rarely address it; it feels like an Achilles' heel. I don't want to talk about it because for so long, I wanted to be above it and feel like I've lived my entire life battling to convince myself that I am. I don't know exactly why, but part of it has to do that as an overachiever, I took EVERY lesson and extrapolated it to the extreme: I felt like I had been taught that beauty isn't everything, it's not good to brag (so I didn't tell myself I was beautiful, or really pay myself the compliment of even simple, honest observation if it were something positive; it's bad to think well of oneself). Taking all that to heart, I muted that part of my life. But I am a young woman, much as I think I am above the natural inclinations to feel what many, if not all, women feel: beautiful, needed, wanted, thought of, not forgotten, valued, respected, loved. You can only stifle those things for so long. I have no idea where I got this notion that I need to be "stronger" than my needs. Why is there such a drive to be self-sufficient? Why is there a drive to feel like I need no one, or healing or leading?

Anyway, I digress. This weekend, I felt pretty, and the feeling really hasn't gone away as I've gotten ready in the mornings, looked in the mirror. It was today that it occurred to me that it's been a mood-lifter during this time. And it's been coupled with a peace and a security that I really haven't ever known. But I feel calm. I feel like the calm of the Proverbs 31 woman - the quietness of spirit - falls over me in the alone moments, the getting ready moments, the "just breathe" moments. I think that God is gently encouraging my personal femininity, which is strange to me because it's not like how I thought I might be. I don't feel like the process is forcing me into a mold that isn't recognizable to myself, but it's uniquely and comfortably "myself." And it's comforting, rather than alarming, soothing rather than creating anxiety. And I simply feel calmly good about it. Despite the turmoil going on around me with my dad, my job, and my small life, the peace of "now" has helped me to calm down and feel better about who God is calling me to be. I'm relieved to find that I can recognize that person to be me, and not someone I'd be pretending to be. God is merciful.

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

I am the chicken on the vane...

Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh....that's the sound of the numbness; it's the sound of plans dissolving. You can't hear anything beyond it in the moment. Shock is simply the raining thought, you could burst into tears, but your simply, purely shocked. So pure is the feeling, you can't feel anything for a few moments, can't hear, can't taste. It's just...there.

And I lost my job - no position at the school AT ALL. No option. I think I was shocked because the picture was painted that it would be there. And that I would be back. And I was getting used to it - to improving, to learning from the first year. And then, it was all shattered yesterday. No position at THIS school - after the so much hope was given, groundwork laid, and then the rug was pulled out. Nonchalantly, unexpectedly, heartbreakingly pulled.

I cried - I was shocked. Just thinking that it was safe, and that was it, I think the worst part was allowing myself to get used to the idea. Placing my heart on the line - I never do that, I'm always cautiously negative, planning on the worst and stifling hope. I'm rarely wrong. RARELY. And this occasion, I let myself be wrong; I thought I would be wrong, and I was burned. I could be jaded, but I won't be. I'll just make sure that I express my sadness, and continue on.

I spoke to my mom, who I told that what the hardest part, in all of it, is the emotions. I cannot handle the extreme emotions I've been experiencing. But now, I don't even know what or where. Do I continue in education? Do I change? Do I do what's safe? Do I do what is expected? Do I change directions entirely? As bad as I think I am at teaching, my perception isn't the same as some of my colleagues, and I have cultivated a genuine, amicable relationship with my students. And it's hard to leave them. It's hard to leave the wonderful colleagues. And that is mixed with a sense of betrayal by my employer, the county.

I feel like the chicken on the weather vane, gently pushed into some direction or violently beaten about in a storm. I feel like I've been through many violent storms, and only worse is to come. The worst to deal with is the "what?" questions. "What is the Lord trying to teach me?" "What did I do wrong?" "What am I supposed to do?" Now, I know Hebrews well, and I think of the discipline that the believers are told about - that type that's not correction for wrongdoing, but the type that means you are being called to a higher standard because you are called to something different and, well, more. But it's beating me up. We resist sin, and we are to resist to the point of death - now that, wow. Imagine dying before you would tell a lie, because you hate sin so much - that's not quite what the writer of Hebrews is talking about, but it got me thinking about how much we are to resist sin, and to live above worldliness.

To my advantage in my predicament is my singleness. My disadvantage? Debt - school loans. So, maybe the question I should ask myself is, if I had no debt, what would I choose to do? I jumped into it immediately after high school, after the divorce of my parents. It's hard for me to imagine life without the albatross. But, if I had no chains, what would I pursue? And I don't know. It runs so deep as to the point where I feel guilty to pursue the "what I want" because I feel like I have been taught that "what I want" runs perfectly contradictory to "what God wants." But we have propencities, desires, abilities, strengths for a purpose, don't we?

The only thing that I really could think the past month was "ugh, I don't wanna think" because, well, all this comes spilling out...I'm drowning in it.

So what's the plan? I don't know. I don't want to step out over and over again, rejected from this job, dead end here, after all of the work. I went to college, I got the degree. What is going on from here on out? Well, for now, here's the plan:

1. I am dropping one summer graduate course from UGA - the one that starts the 4th - I need to rest and not fill up my schedule immediately, like I usually do.
2. I'm thinking I'm going to drop my masters and withdraw from UGA after the summer; tuition is going to increase, and if I don't want to continue my education in educational theory (which is bunk because that's NOT what happens in a classroom), then why am I paying interest on it? I'd rather study more Spanish, even a different language, and really pursue something that keeps my interest.
3. I will go ahead and go to the rehiring fair for the county, at least to see what's there; I am at a disadvantage because my certificate is not clear, renewable; it is provisional, and I am not considered highly qualified by NCLB.
4. Find any well-paying job that will help me eradicate the debt; I'd like to get married one day debt-free, but I am the textbook case of single-girl-with-high-debt. That is my demographic, and I want out.
5. Pray. Pray again. Call out. Seek, and be patient. I'm finding that I'm scared and sad because I really don't trust God - I didn't realize how much I attribute my earthly father's bad characteristics to my Heavenly Father's character. I didn't think I did, but I'm finding that I'm riddled from anxiety because I feel like God is going to knock the wind out of me worse than I have ever imagined. And that He is going to put me into the position of toughing it out. It's something that He will have to break me of.

During this time, please pray that the Lord remind me as He reminded the Israelites that He brought them out of the Land of Egypt into the land He promised their fathers. Please pray that I would remember that faith is credited as righteousness. Please pray I don't get discouraged and depressed. Please pray that I exercise and get out, instead of moping and crying because I'm so worn down and stressed. And, please pray.