Despite this being unknown, I think that I'm in a place that good will come out of, and I'm not afraid of this unknown. In this in between place, I am finding myself able to acknowledge, in my head at least, thoughts and feelings I have been unable and, quite frankly, unwilling to acknowledge up to this point. I feel a sense of resignation...resigned to the fact that I cannot erase the abuse in my past or how it has colored and impacted my life. I am not resigned to never getting better and finding healing, but rather, I find myself resigned to the truth that it happened. I have not come to accept it, but I'm not running away from it anymore. It's like I'm looking at it, examining it, figuring out what to do with it. I know I have to keep it, but I haven't found the courage to call it my own.
In this in between of not my normal but not drowning either, I have been able to put a name to a feeling that almost never leaves me though the strength of its grip varies with circumstance and time. It is a feeling I have lived with for the majority of my life now. The part of my life that I did not feel it almost feels like it wasn't my life at all, it was so long ago. I first felt it when I was 13, and with each passing year, the roots have not just buried themselves within me, they have become me. This feeling isn't merely how I feel. This feeling is inseparable from who I am. This...is shame.
Let me say a bit about this shame that has eaten into me for more years than I'd like to count. Much of the time, I feel shame, but it is more like a garment. I have it on all the time, and it's just part of me. It's there, and it is on me though it fits around me without extra discomfort. Then something will trigger it. Most of the time, I don't see this coming. Anything can trigger it...a look on someone's face (whether someone I know or a stranger), a sound, a smell, a memory that pops up out of nowhere, a touch, a comment (almost always unrelated to anything shame-worthy), sometimes I don't know what the trigger is. After this trigger sets it off, it is no longer like a garment I'm wearing as I go about my daily life, it's more like a straight jacket being pulled tighter and tighter. I can't move. I can't breathe. The only thing I can feel is shame.
But feeling shame isn't simple, and it doesn't stay in one place. Shame hurts. It hurts inside, but it also hurts outside. It physically hurts to feel it sometimes. It will tighten its grip on me so much so that my skin actually literally hurts. When shame is gripping me, gestures that normally bring comfort become weapons to my soul. Being hugged by my husband or children or friends becomes excruciating. I will have to brace myself for impact, and what is meant to be a gesture of love and compassion becomes jarring and leaves me feeling shattered. When I am touched unexpectedly, say tapped on the shoulder as someone tries to get my attention, I break inside from the physical pain I feel from the emotional pain of shame that is too great for words to convey.
It takes a long time for the grip of shame to lessen to that which I can deal with, to what I am accustomed to. While I wait for the physical pain to lessen, my body screams at me to be rid of my skin, rid of the pain. I typically hide how much it hurts well. Most don't know how much a simple touch can hurt me. I don't shy away from their hugs because I don't want people to know how I feel, so I brace myself for brokenness with a smile on my face. I'm always glad when it lets up to normal again. There is no trick to get there, I just have to wait for it.
I say that shame is inseparable from me, and I know many would say that isn't true. In an attempt to encourage me, they would tell me it is not my shame but my coach's. While they are correct in saying my shame belongs to my coach, it is still very much embedded in me. I know that God has carried my shame and taken it on Himself to the cross. I know that God does not see shame when He looks at me. I know that my identity is in Christ and His completed work on the cross on my behalf. I know the Sunday school truths.
I also know that as of now, my shame is very much part of who I am. I ask that you please don't dismiss that. Hear where I am and come alongside me in the ugliness. I do have hope that God will remove this shame from me, but it doesn't happen with the snap of the fingers. Meet me in my shame, and don't try to take it from me. If you do, you'll be ripping me apart. Only God is capable of the difficult and precise work that must be done to remove my shame from me. I promise you, I have hope that He will do that as He takes me down this journey. I only need you to walk with me and understand. I know you want to take it from me, but I need you to believe God will take it from me in His time and let Him work in His perfect ways.
This applies to anyone walking alongside a survivor walking the road to healing also. We know shame is not who we are, but at the same time shame is part of who we are as we walk this journey. We will shed the shame as God gently works His healing in our souls, but it only hurts us more if you try to take it before He takes it from us. Please be patient with us. We want our shame gone as much as you do. It hurts. We don't like it. We long for the day God takes it from us.
Shame
I live every day
With the crushing weight of shame
That I am told is not my own
It burns deep inside
Putting out any light
Of hope that once dared to glow
It rises within
Without warning begins
Ripping me apart at the core
From the look of pity
In the eyes that don't get me
I drown in my shame once more
From all the remembering
While I try forgetting
It cuts hard though the knife isn't mine
The past begins to feel
Like the present it's so real
For shame knows not the boundaries of time
So weak I cannot stand
It breaks the very heart of who I am
Until I no longer have even a name
Yet He still looks at me
Says "My daughter I'll help you see
My love reaches past the depths of your shame"
This in between place I'm in is where I found a name for the most difficult and painful feeling I struggle with. I say that I think good will come from this unknown in between because even just having a name for shame has helped me. It doesn't take away what I feel, but it lets me talk through what I'm struggling with better with those who are able to help me. I'm still not sure what this place is. I'm still not sure I like being here, but this in between has given me a word I desperately needed. Shame.
Maybe this in between is where I need to be. Maybe in between is where God works best...where I'm not overwhelmed from drowning or comfortable in my normal. Maybe in between is where I find the words I have been looking for, the ability to accept my past as mine, the courage to lay all the broken pieces at the foot of the cross. Maybe when I leave the in between, I'll be a little less broken.
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