I know that I am forgiven.
If I didn’t know it, I mean really know it down to the core of my very being;
I fear I’d be dead already. It’s my belief
in the mercy of God that keeps me alive, literally. I take comfort in the people that take care to
remind me of that mercy over and over and over again. I run to my Church for the tangible reminders
of that mercy. The reminders that God is real, that Jesus is real, that all of this is not in vain. Suicide is probably the only sin I consider
bigger than abortion. I already killed
once, if I kill again, I’m out for sure and I won’t be around to redeem
myself. I don’t know where I’d be and
that’s a scary enough thought to keep me alive.
I’ve been reading a lot lately about sin and lies we believe
about sin and how to God, all sins are the same and all equally forgiven because
of the Son. I’m frustrated because no
matter how much work I do – I just don’t feel like a good person. I’m not
happy. It’s not even about the abortion
any more, it’s all of me, and it’s my whole wretched life that at times feels
as though it’s rushing past and others it seems as though time has stood
still. You would think knowing one is
forgiven for a sin as horrible as abortion would be cause for joy, but there is
no joy here or at least I don’t feel any.
My hang up with sin is my own doing. I go along for a while doing things I think a
good Catholic woman should do and would do.
Aren’t I just awesomely Catholic? I volunteer at school and church
whenever I can. I pray and pray and pray
for priests and nuns and the Pope and whoever else is keeping this boat
afloat. I send my kids to Catholic
school. I try to defend my Church to
those who knock her. I make sure we’re
at Mass each week. I go to adoration. I try to learn as much as I can about my
faith.
But, you know what? None of this matters a whole hell of a
lot when deep down I still feel like that 17 year old girl, used and abused,
taunted, tormented, downtrodden, self-esteem depleted, objectified, and only
good for one thing – girl. Oh who
happens to get pregnant and then gets an abortion. Then, does she turn her life around and
strike out anew? Nope, she gets worse
and sleeps around more and allows herself to be used and thrown away like
garbage. But, just like the woman today,
she fakes it. She gets good grades,
keeps a pretty house, smiles when she’s supposed to, but it’s a ruse. I’m starting to wonder if that part ever wasn’t
a ruse, if it ever won’t be.
It always, always, goes back to that. Those feelings surrounding that girl then
color my life in the present. I can’t
enjoy my life when I used to sleep around.
I can’t laugh with my children when I killed my first one. I can’t enjoy
love making with my hubby with all that I did before with God knows who. I am not lovable. I am not intelligent. I am
not destined for greatness, or even goodness. I’m not kidding anyone. I am
nothing.
And there I stay, down in the muck of it, depleted of all
energy or want to claw my way out of it – again.
A character in one of my favorite films is asked at one
point what she fears, to which she responds, “A cage. To stay behind
bars until use and old age accept them and all chance of valor has gone beyond
recall or desire.” I fear that’s
where I am now, in a cage of my own making.
I’m not locked in, I choose to stay and I fear I’ll never have the want
or courage to leave.
But, I start to think about that girl of my past and what was it that turned things around. What happened that made me desire to graduate from college, get a job, my own apartment, my own car, be on my own? A little while before I met my husband, I finally got rid of an extremely abusive jerk and shut the door on that nonsense. What was it that kept me from ever going the drinking and drug route? There had to be some flicker of ambition or self-reliance that spoke up and said enough is enough.
I could use that flicker now. It’s not like I can’t picture what life could
be like, but it’s as if the fear of the clouds gathering again keep me from
even trying happiness out for a while.
Why bother, it won’t last. Why
laugh, when they’ll soon be reason to cry.
I lack the ambition or want to go back and forth choosing instead the muck
and the mire because it’s comfortable and predictable and nothing is required
of me if I stay in it.
I stay a caged bird, but one who doesn’t sing, who doesn't talk, who says barely a word because I'm supposed to be okay.
Perhaps this is for you: http://www.catholicsun.org/2013/04/03/constant-complaining-keeps-one-from-noticing-jesus-presence-pope-says/
ReplyDeleteSomeone else sent this to me also. Thank you so much.
DeleteI'm sorry it's a tough day, fellow Pittsburgher. BTDT. I hope there is another place, a person that that you can say, "So not ok today," and talk for a while. And remember that saying, how maybe things are not ok today, but they will be, eventually.
ReplyDeleteThank you. I do have one or two people to talk to - the hardest part is starting the conversation.
DeleteToday I declare and announce that a fellow blogger shall be known henceforth as the “Beloved Blogger”. After reading her recent painfully honest journal description of her dark night, I had a vision of there being a fourth woman at the cross on Calvary that day.
ReplyDeleteThere was Mary, His mother, Mary His aunt, Mary his friend and a beloved blogger. I know that He asked his male friend to care for His mother but in my vision he also ask his mother to embrace the blogger who is also a mother. I read that he told the good thief that he would be with him in paradise but now I hear him saying to the blogger, "your daughter is already with me in paradise.”
Utterly overwhelmed by your words and completely unworthy, but thank you. Speechless.
DeleteThis is my first time reading your blog, dear. I know your dark night in many ways (as do many others I suspect). Some days we all just feel like big fakes because our brokenness is almost too much to bear. I have a friend at church who often says to me when we run into each other in the bathroom at weekday Mass, each of us in there with an assortment of our crazy younger children, "It's not about our feelings. I know there are graces in being here." Rest in the graces as best you can. Jesus' arms are around you (and me). We just need to NOT push them away.
ReplyDeleteOh how I want to believe that there are "graces in being here"...The more I think that I am alone ( and unique)in my suffering, the more I hear stories like this one from InfiniteGrace that show that we all are so very much the same...we try. We can't come to understand this all..how can we possibly see into the Mind of God? That is what faith is about isn't it? So we do the next right thing...we don't kill ourselves...we finish the race..we stay faithful. We will understand it all soon enough I suspect. God Bless :)
ReplyDeleteToday I sat at a train crossing and those thoughts pop into my mind - what if... Then the cross arms raise and I drive on.
Delete"You are a daughter of Kings..." Remember it is she who will defeat the Nazgul - she with her woman's pain, her woman's integrity. BECAUSE she is a woman, and no man could defeat him! Don't lose hope - our wounds are the very things that give us our particular mission.
ReplyDeleteIt is Evil one that argues that sin "not so bad" before it is committed and then traps you by never lets you forget how bad it really was. He does not want you to FEEL good. Your light is that you KNOW you are forgiven.St Terese, the Little Flower, gave thanks for the realization of her sin so that it reminded her that she is creature not Creator. Defeat the Evil one and delight in the God that is madly in love with you so as to forgive you of anything.In this week when we are reminded of Peter to failed his Lord and yet was greeted with not one word of recrimination but instead with words of love and Peace, shed your feelings of unworthiness and put on your armour.You are loved beyong measure.Be merciful with others beyond measure and be merciful with yourself.May God Bless you!
ReplyDeleteThank you so much for your kind words. Sometimes I think that had I not gone though all I did - i wouldn't be where I am now at all. I'd probably be superficial at best thinking I didn't need Him in my life at all.
DeleteI went through several years of depression. One small realization and practice that I think helped me develop new habits of thinking was recognizing that not only were the light and happy moments as real as the dark, they were in fact more real, a reflection of what I was made for, and that it was the enemy seeking in with that "why bother?" sentiment to steal it. So whenever even a small sliver of light or joy came my way, I would rebuke that doubt/lie and say, sometimes out loud, but firmly, "No, this does not belong to you. It is for me. This is real. And I am grateful for it." Keep affirming your identity as a child of God whenever these times come. Say it in spite of how you feel. Oh, and listen to Gospel music. I always find that an amazing spiritual weapon.
ReplyDeleteWhen people ask how I'm doing (and I don't want to lie), I say: "Trying to be good!" Because, isn't that all we can do, really? Keep trying?
ReplyDeleteGod bless you. And keep trying!!