Don't...but what if

     My last post was more open and honest and revealing of the ugly truth of what it's like to fight for hope and healing after abuse.  I've been encouraged to keep writing from that place.  That isn't an easy thing to do, and the person who encouraged me to do that knows very well the weight of what she was saying.  Had her words come from almost anyone else, I would have quickly scoffed the idea away, but maybe she knows what she's talking about.

     I've been thinking a lot about being honest, truly honest, about it all...with myself, with those who God has placed on this road with me, with God Himself.  I'm very good at making it all seem like it wasn't so bad and doesn't effect me that much.  I've learned that is called minimizing.  I've been doing that for many years now, long before I knew it had a name.  

     I have found it really difficult *not* to minimize and instead to be brutally honest about everything...how bad the abuse was, how deeply it hurts both then and now, how tight a grip it has on my daily life even in the present, how I struggle, the emotions I fight against.  I'm working on it, because I know that being painfully open about all of that will be good in the long run and is actually moving towards healing (even though the intense pain of it all makes it seem like a really bad idea and something to run from...I mean haven't I been dealt enough pain, why would I purposely face more?).  But it is HARD!  Hard isn't even a strong enough word, but I can't seem to find a word that is.

     I have two poems to share today.  The first one I wrote a few months back.  I wasn't in a bad place when I wrote it.  When I was done, I was actually kind of in shock at what had just come out of my head, maybe also my heart.  It is not a pretty piece of writing.  There is nothing beautiful or palatable about it.  Then again, there is nothing beautiful or palatable about abuse either.  

     This poem is a combination of voices I have heard over the years...the many, long years.  The combination of voices meshed into one really loud voice over time.  This voice I hear every day.  

Don't

Hush don't speak

Close your eyes so you don't see

Don't touch so you won't feel

The hurt so deep your life it steals

Don't move so you don't break

Don't forget your life is at stake

Don't stop listening so you always hear

The silence surrounding you proving nobody cares

Don't trust and don't fight

Don't hope there is no light

Don't run there's nowhere to go

Don't tell they don't want to know

If you think they'll help they really won't

You're all alone, on your own, so just don't

     Those words are harsh, hopeless, and cold, but they are very powerful and loud.  I am afraid many who have lived through abuse hear much of the same message in their own heads after hearing it in real life for so long.  I am still stuck with "DON'T" being yelled at me though no one else can hear.  I know in my head that everything "DON'T" says to me isn't true, but he speaks loud and clear and over anyone or anything else.  It is so hard to fight against him, but I know that I must.

--I'm offered hope from a pastor who genuinely cares..."DON'T, he's a pastor...remember what happened with the last pastor?"  "DON'T, you know hope is a lie...don't you remember the last time you believed hope was real?"

--Someone says "I'm here, I want to listen"..."DON'T believe that someone cares...listen to the silence of everyone else who doesn't care."

--Someone tells me they are not walking away..."DON'T fall for that lie again...remember the last person who said that?"

--Someone says "I want to hear your story"..."DON'T listen to their empty promises...they will run when they hear what you have to say."

--Someone says "I care about you"..."DON'T even go there again...you know you are worthless and no one would ever care; you've walked to that dead end before."

     But somewhere deep down, there is something that won't let me walk away.  For all the screaming "DON'T", somewhere there is a tiny whisper that spurs me on when "DON'T" tells me to give up.  This is where the second poem comes in.  I wrote this just today as I've been contemplating this post.

What If

What if this time isn't the same

What if this hope is different

What if good really does comes from this pain

What if this hurt is well spent

What if this hand reaching out to me now

Really will not let me go

What if this hand steadies me somehow

When I stumble and the going is slow

What if the smile I see in those eyes

Refuses to look away and frown

When the storm catches me by surprise

And the water rises as I drown

What if this woman who tells me she cares

Will really stand with me unafraid

What if she truly wants my burden to share

What if she really will not walk away

What if I'm really not alone anymore

What if she'll sit with me when I can't get up

What if she'll help me keep pushing forward

What if I take just one more small step

--What if this hope is different?

--What if they really do want to listen?

--What if they will be the first one who really won't walk away, who will really see me through this?

--What if they really do want to hear my story to help me walk through it?

--What if they really do care?

     "What if" speaks so gently while "DON'T" screams at me with a harshness I'm sure I deserve.  Many days "DON'T" drowns out "What if" with his fear and brutality.  "What if" doesn't give up though.  She gently whispers the possibility that what "DON'T" screams is wrong.  Even when I can't hear "What if," I feel her.  "DON'T" fights, but "What if" doesn't fight back.  She simply stands her ground with confidence...a confidence I wish I had.  

     My thoughts are pulled in two different directions.  I go back and forth between what "DON'T" screams, which is what I believe to be true, and what "What if" whispers softly, which is what I want to believe.  "DON'T" scares me into sticking with him, but "What if" speaks with a care and love I long for.  I want "What if" to win the war raging in my heart and mind, but "DON'T" strikes a fear in me that I can't seem to break free from.

     Do you feel the tension?  I can't escape it.  "DON'T" but "What if" but "DON'T" but "What if" but "DON'T"...and on it goes, every day.

"DON'T"......but "What if?"...but......"What...if?"