To the Light

Life has just been kind of busy lately, with finals and then Christmas. I promise I'm still here, still reading comments, still working on some new posts. I'll probably be able to sit down and reply to the comments soon, and I'm hoping to get a new entry up in the next week or two as well. Stay tuned! =)

For those of you that pray, a close friend of mine is having some serious health problems right now, and is in the hospital. She has many health problems as it is, and she has been in so much pain lately. Please keep her in your prayers!!

I'm working on another post on God's Creative Power, but in the meantime, I have a question for fellow Mercy survivors in particular, but anyone else is welcome to answer as well. 

Note: I began writing this before the concert tonight, and finished it afterward. I know it is quite long, but I found the process of writing it all out to be healing for me, and so I don't want to cut anything out just because it is long. I think being able to finally share this full story - I never have before - will also be healing. If you can't make it all the way through, I understand. But if you do, thank you. Thank you.

This is kind of a different post in that it's just a story from my life that I would like to share, in hopes that someone may be encouraged by it.

Tonight is the opening night of Christmas at Northwestern, my school's annual Christmas concert. It has been a long week, with long rehearsals almost every day, but the concert is finally here, and it is going to be amazing. I absolutely love being able to sing as a part of the choir, listen to the band and orchestra and the narration in between songs. It is the most worshipful concert I have ever had the privilege of participating in. We aren't just up there singing pretty words, we're singing words that we believe, that we truly mean as we are singing them. We're not just singing to the audience, we are singing to God and leading the audience in worship. I love it so much.

Last year was my first year at Northwestern, but it was not my first year performing in Christmas at Northwestern. Back in 2001, I was a part of the Vivace Voices youth choir through the Academy of Music here. It was rare for the youth choir to be invited to sing in Christmas at Northwestern, but I'm guessing it had to do with the processional at the beginning of the concert. I've sung it in other choirs since, and there is a part that can optionally be sung by a children's choir. That is the part we sang in Christmas at Northwestern. So because we were already there for the processional, we also got to sing two songs on our own. For the rest of the concert, we had a few rows near the front reserved for us. Since our two songs were in the middle of the concert, we got to sit through all three concerts.

Fast-forward to last year, Christmas at Northwestern 2008: This is important for me to explain before I continue. My first Christmas at Northwestern as a college student! What an experience. I think my favorite part of the whole thing is at the rehearsals, or before the performances, when one of the directors or a student from one of the ensembles will get up and talk to us about what this means. About how this is not a performance, but a worship service. Just encouraging us and helping us to prepare our hearts for this time. Last year, at one of the rehearsals, someone had the idea that we should go out into the auditorium and pray over the seats, for the people who would be sitting in them each of the three nights. That they would be touched by our music. That they would see God's love in what we were singing and playing. That God would use the concert to speak to them, no matter their situation. Wow. What a powerful way to get us to really think about the audience and the message we would be communicating to them. What a way to remind us of our purpose in this event. I kept that fresh in my mind as we continued to rehearse and through the actual concerts. I'd look out at the audience, and remember what I was up there for, and pray for them once again. Let me tell you, a concert means a lot more when you know it will be touching people's lives like that.

And now back to 2001. How do I know the concerts will be touching people's lives? Well, along with the many times the directors tell us, and the knowledge that God answers prayer, I know from experience.

I was in 9th grade. It would be an understatement to say that it wasn't such a great year. It was pretty rough. Starting the summer before, with working every day to remodel our grandparents' old house so we could move into it. It was a terrible summer, but that's a story for another time. It was during that miserable summer that I began having suicidal thoughts. At first, it didn't seem like a big deal. I'd never actually do anything like that, right? It was just thoughts. Things would get better once school started. For a little bit, they did. But then it was back to the same old misery and self-hatred. Eventually I realized that I was probably dealing with depression. I was afraid to tell anyone, but the longer I put it off, the worse it got. Every day, I'd walk into school, and tell myself that today was the day I would go into the counseling office and make an appointment. Every day, I walked right past it again. Sometimes multiple times a day. Never the courage to open the door and walk in. By December, I felt like I was reaching the end of my rope. I thought of it as being stuck in a deep, dark pit, alone, with no way to get out.

That's where I was, that Saturday of Christmas at Northwestern. One of our songs was called "We Are The Children Of Light." I remember thinking, how can I sing about being a child of the light when I am so stuck here in this deep, dark pit? 

Since I had already heard the whole 2-hour concert the night before, I had plenty of time to sit and think while I was listening. I searched my mind for ideas, ways I could maybe ask for help. Eventually I concluded that none would work. I just couldn't do it. I would never be able to tell someone. I didn't think I could stand living in that darkness for much longer, and if I'd never be able to tell anyone anyway, what was the point?

*Suicide Trigger*

My ideas and plans turned to a different direction. I had gotten a ride to the concert with the family of a friend who was also in the youth choir. My parents were at an annual Christmas party hosted by some of their friends. I knew they wouldn't be back until late. I'd be back hours before they would. I had done some thinking on this before, but there was just never a good opportunity. And now I had one. I spent the rest of the concert making plans and refining them. I was going to kill myself when I got home. Take all the pills I could find and just go to sleep. My parents wouldn't find me until morning, and by then I'd be gone. I didn't want the shame of waking up in a hospital because someone found me earlier.

*End Trigger

I remember two specific points in the concert where I found myself wavering in my determination to go through with my plan.

The first was during a song that the band played. "Russian Christmas Music." It was almost thirteen minutes long, and it was amazing. From where I was sitting, I could see the two girls playing the chimes, which are used a lot in the piece. It was so cool watching them. (I have actually loved chimes ever since, just because of this song!) As I was sitting there watching the band play this beautiful, intense song, a thought came to my mind. I am never going to hear this song again. This is the last time I will ever get to listen to beautiful music like this. I won't be here tomorrow to hear them play it again. It made me want to cry. And that shook me a little.

The second was when the men's chorus sang "Prayer of the Children." The impact of this one will be best understood with the lyrics written out:

Can you hear the prayer of the children
on bended knee, in the shadow of an unknown room?
Empty eyes with no more tears to cry
turning heavenward toward the light.
Crying," Jesus, help me
to see the morning light of one more day,
but if I should die before I wake,
I pray my soul to take."
Can you feel the hearts of the children
aching for home, for something of their very own.
Reaching hands with nothing to hold onto
but hope for a better day, a better day.
Crying," Jesus, help me
to feel the love again in my own land,
but if unknown roads lead away from home,
give me loving arms, 'way from harm."
Can you hear the voice of the children
softly pleading for silence in their shattered world?
Angry guns preach a gospel full of hate,
blood of the innocent on their hands.
Crying," Jesus, help me
to feel the sun again upon my face?
For when darkness clears, I know you're near,
bringing peace again."

Beautiful song. Sad -- yet hopeful. This one was intense too, but in a different way. I know the song is meant to be about the devastating effects war has on children. But so much of it spoke right to my heart, to what I was dealing with that night.

I felt so empty, hopeless. Defeated. 

Then that first plea: "Jesus, help me to see the morning light of one more day..." Somewhere deep down, some small part of me was making this same plea: "Please, God, don't let me do it. I don't want to die." I didn't know it, but it was there. 

Then, "Reaching hands with nothing to hold onto but hope for a better day, a better day." That's how I felt...silently reaching and screaming for help, for someone to see that I was not all right. But no one did. I hid it too well. I didn't have anything to hold onto anymore. But maybe...

"Give me loving arms, 'way from harm." I had such a longing for this. For someone to care and to help me and protect me. Someone I could trust. Who wouldn't hurt me. Someone safe...but no one was there.

"Can you hear the voice of the children softly pleading for silence in their shattered world?" Shattered. Maybe not in the way the song meant, but emotionally, I felt shattered. I had even used that word in a poem I wrote over the summer (a broken plate, shattered. / like-- my summer. / like-- my life.). I just wanted it to stop. I didn't want to hurt anymore. I didn't want to continue being hurt. Pleading for silence...no more yelling, swearing. I just wanted to feel safe again. I wanted somebody to see I was hurt, to care, to gather up those broken pieces and help me put my life back together.

Crying, "Jesus, help me

to feel the sun again upon my face

For when darkness clears, I know you're near

bringing peace again."

When I looked up there at the men's chorus singing, with gentleness and with passion, I truly felt like they meant what they were singing. 

I needed to know that someone cared. That there was hope, and not just hurt. I needed to hear that Jesus cared. I found myself silently pleading, "Jesus, help me!" along with the men when they sang it. Jesus, help me...give me hope...lead me out of the darkness...let me see the sun again. That song was just what I needed.

As I left the concert that night, I was unsure of what I would do when I got home. I still wanted to go through with my plan...but now, part of me didn't.

On the way home, I managed to quietly admit to my friend, after making her promise she wouldn't tell anyone, that I thought I was depressed. I didn't go any further than that, but that was enough. I had told someone. And if I told one person...maybe I could tell another. =)

God saved my life that night. God used Christmas at Northwestern to save my life. And that's why I can say with certainty that people's lives are touched by this concert. That's why the focus on leading the audience in worship and praying that God will use our music to reach them wherever they are at is so important to me. Because I know He will and He does. And maybe there's someone out there in the audience that's like me back in 9th grade...maybe there's someone out there who feels like they've lost hope and they don't want to live anymore. And maybe God will use our music to save them like He saved me.

It was just brought to my attention that people have been unable to comment on my blog! I am sorry if this has been a problem for you. It should be fixed now, let me know if it's not. =)

So, I know I said I was taking a break from writing about Mercy, but something came up today that I really feel like I should write about.

In my World Religions class today, we were talking about Animism. How it can be present in all religions - for instance, Christians who carry their Bibles around with them, not because they're going to read them, but because they feel like as long as they have their Bible with them, they'll have a good day. If they forget it or leave it someplace, then it's going to be a bad day, because they don't have their Bible with them. It can be subtle, and I don't think a lot of people realize they're doing it.

Anyway, this reminded me of a little book I got when I first arrived at Mercy. (I'm sure anyone who's gone through the program knows exactly what book I'm talking about!) I vaguely remember being told something about how this booklet would become the most important book to me while I was there (second to the Bible, of course).

This little booklet is called God's Creative Power Will Work For You

I've seen a few other people mention it, but haven't seen anybody really write in depth about what this book contains and its role in life at Mercy. And I think this is an important part of Mercy life that people should know about, so I will be going through the book, talking about it in relation to Mercy, and give my own views on it. It will take me more than one entry, I know that - I'm not sure just how long it will get, though! I can say a lot on this subject. When I mentioned the word of faith movement and this book to my World Religions professor, he said, "Let's not even go there!" There's just so much there that can be talked about. My professor actually called it heresy, which surprised me a bit. That's a pretty strong word to use, and although I agree, I've never actually said that myself for fear that I was overreacting. It's nice to know I'm not! I feel like every person who backs up my thoughts about Mercy and different beliefs and practices there helps me get a little closer to really truly believing it and being better able to speak the truth about Mercy without being ashamed. Helps me get a little closer to, "Oh! It really wasn't just me!" There's a difference between knowing something and truly believing it. I'm not there yet, but I'm slowly making my way towards believing it with confidence and assurance that it is the truth.

So, I arrived at Mercy and got this booklet. I soon learned that we were supposed to read the section of affirmations out loud twice a day (?) and sign this sheet saying we had done it. And we were encouraged to read it more. Some girls carried their GCP book with them most, if not all, of the time. I would see and hear other girls reading their GCP at different times of the day, in the living room, in the hallway, in the library. My roommate read them before bed every night. Reading the GCP out loud was a big key to healing from our issues. And the more we read it, the more we would believe it, and be healed.

I suppose I should probably explain what it is about before going any further! From the back cover of the booklet:

Words are the most powerful things in the universe today! They are containers of power.

Many people have been defeated in life because they believed and spoke the wrong things. They have allowed the words of their own mouths to hold them in bondage.

God created the universe by speaking it into existence. He has given that same ability to you in word form. To be effective in life you must speak words of faith. Every faith principle, every spiritual law, every promise of God was set forth for your growth. He has designed His Word to put you over in life.

Learn how you can release the ability of God by the words of your mouth.

Fear-filled words will defeat you, but faith-filled words will put you over!

On my first read through the book, I didn't quite know what to think. I wrote about it in my journal, the entry is dated 11/20/06, so I had only been there for five days.

Something about those "God's Creative Power" books just doesn't seem right. And I'm frustrated, because I don't know what it is. I don't know if they're Biblically sound or not ... My critical thinking skills are coming in handy, yet also being kind of frustrating, because I feel like I don't know enough to know if these things are Biblical or not.

There's quite a bit more to the entry, but that's the relevant part. I didn't write about negative things in too much detail, because while something didn't seem right, I felt like I shouldn't be thinking those things. I believed that maybe it was just Satan attacking me - trying to get in the way of my healing, trying to turn me away from God, trying to get me to leave Mercy. I now know that it was actually God, not Satan, trying to get me to leave Mercy! That feeling I was getting about something not being right? Pretty sure that was the Holy Spirit nudging me to do some critical thinking and realize that this was not a good place.

I couldn't make up my mind, the whole time I was there. One day, I'd feel sure that Mercy was a great place, and that I just needed to be more open to what they were teaching. The next day, I'd feel sure that there was something not-quite-right, and I needed to figure out what it was, so I could know what to do. It was very confusing.

And with that, I think I will have to take a break. More on God's Creative Power soon!

On one of the mental health related forums I am a member of, someone started a thread about personal experiences of stigma and stereotypes, and what we do to combat those misconceptions. As I wrote out my reply, it kind of turned into a "what I want people to understand about me" post. The roots of most of this are in my family, and I greatly fear others having similar views. The rest mainly stems from inadequate explanations on my part. When it comes to talking about my mental health related problems, I have a hard time saying things straight out -- I tend to talk "around" things instead and hope people pick up on the implications. Also, I just plain have a hard time explaining things out loud. If I write it out, I can go back and change the wording, clear things up, make it easier to understand. I can make sure I'm really saying what I want to say. So, these are some things I wish people understood about me.

People don't understand. I try and explain, but they just don't understand why I can't just do everything "normal" people can do.

I hate it when people don't take emotional abuse as seriously as other forms of abuse. Like because I was never physically or sexually abused, I should just get over it and stop whining. Same with depression...just because it's common, apparently it's less serious than if I had some other mental illness. "Yeah, but depression's not a real mental illness, not like bipolar or schizophrenia or something."

It's like, "Oh, you've *only* been emotionally abused, you *only* have depression, what are you complaining about?" Like I'm just pretending to have a difficult time with things. Like I'm just not trying hard enough. Like I'm just being lazy, manipulative, looking for attention. Hearing those sorts of things is part of what messed me up in the first place.

I'm trying, I'm really trying! With school, with working, with taking care of myself. I'm trying so hard, but they just push and push and tell me to try harder, to not let fear get in my way, to not make excuses. They make me feel like I'm not good enough because I can only handle taking 8 credits (2 classes) at a time right now, when the usual course load is 12-18 credits. And if I'm still having trouble keeping up, I must not be trying, I must be sitting around all day, and depression is just an excuse, I'm just trying to be manipulative. The only reason I haven't found a job is because I'm lazy, because I have no motivation, because I'm obviously not trying very hard and I just need to get out there and try! They don't understand that I can't -- not without help! I have a very real (and understandable, given my past) fear of being employed.

I wish they could understand that I don't want to be like this. I would love to be able to take a normal course load and be able to keep up. I would love to have a job and be able to work without this fear that stresses me out to the point of becoming suicidal. I would love to not be afraid of people, to be able to just go and hang out with my friends, to even have friends like other people! I would love to stop feeling like I have to hide away in my room, I would love to stop feeling like I'm bad and I don't deserve to talk or be around people or be noticed. I would love to stop feeling like my very presence, my very existence, is a problem, like I need to hide, I need to not take up space in the world. I would love it if I didn't have to worry about random emotional flashbacks when I'm out in public -- suddenly feeling so small and vulnerable, in a big scary place with big scary people that might yell at me or tease me or hurt me, and I have to run, I have to hide, I have to make myself as small as possible so they can't see me, can't get me.

I'm not being manipulative. I'm not faking or exaggerating. I'm not looking for attention. If I was, why would I try so hard to hide these things and not talk about them? Why would I try so hard to blend in and be normal and put my happy face on?

I just wish people would understand.

Now, just to clear something up: I don't want to give the impression that I don't have any friends, because that's not true -- I have some amazing friends who care about me a lot. And I know if they knew -- if I was open about the things I am dealing with -- they would be there for me. They've proven this many times when I have talked about stuff. I just have a hard time trusting people, believing that they really do consider me a friend and want to spend time with me.

I was taught early on that just because someone says something nice to you doesn't mean it's true. People lie to be polite, so you won't feel bad, or because they feel sorry for you. If they think you're annoying, if they don't want to be around you, if they're sick of hearing you talk, if they're embarrassed to be seen with you, they're not going to tell you. They'll lie and reassure you that you're not annoying, you don't talk too much, they enjoy spending time with you, you're their friend, etc. -- because they're nice people and don't want to hurt your feelings.

So that's why I say, "I wish I could have friends like other people." It's not because there's no one who wants to be my friend. It's because I have such a hard time believing that they'd want to be my friends. And so I hide in my room. I often eat meals alone, although I've gotten better about being able to go and sit down at a table with people I know. I just generally don't spend time with people unless I'm invited. Because...what if they don't want me around?

I know it's distorted thinking, but it can be awfully hard to just step around it. I'm trying, but it's going to take a while. It took a long time for me to become this solid in this skewed perspective...it's going to take a long time to replace those lies with truth.