Tears May Fall

I am still dealing with the non-feeling from yesterday. I kept myself busy this morning to make sure I didn’t have to think about it. This brought a dilemma. I am wanting to do my quiet time … day 3. I want to worship but I can’t feel. I don’t want to feel to the point of tears. But tears may fall … I can’t have it both ways. They welled up slightly. I’ll just keep trying …

Last night, I dealt with this by paying attention to the verse: “Be still and know I am God.” Shut up and listen. I wanted to feel productive and verbal. In the end, I found some words to say … but it was so hard. I am glad God can read all my jumbled thoughts. He knows what I think or feel when I can’t figure it out.

This is a beautiful song … and beautiful message. I just … can’t figure out what’s appropriate. To feel or not feel. Can I truly worship not feeling? I don’t think so …

Maybe I need to let the phone call from mom go … but it’s not that I feel bitter or resentful or angry anymore … or anything. Nothing. How do I let nothing go? I don’t know if I can stand going through the 7 days of praying feeling nothing.

I have nothing more to say.

Except look at this song …

Pray for me as I figure all this out.

The Aftermath

Jan 21 – 28. Day one = yesterday night.

I expect to be attacked with self injury urges even greater.

I started a 7 day mission last night with the goal to go through next Tuesday. Praying for a specific 5 friends every day with the prayer requests they’ve given me and a verse to go along. In return, prayer for being attacked with my addiction (as I know spiritual warfare will come and grip me easily in this form) and a call or text from each to keep me accountable. “Have you prayed today?”

Last night I felt safe. I was taking this seriously. I physically called every person and told them my plan. I’ve touched base with everyone today after starting last night. Taking the focus off my own life and issues was the goal of this, however, going through the process will still allow me to grow in ways that I so desperately need. It’s also the desire of wanting to be supportive of others in my world and give back in prayer … interceding for them.

I had some simple life things happen today (perfect timing) that shook me. One thing is having to purchase a new battery along with my oil change. I had a little extra money this month due to some sub shifts, so I covered it and am thankful for that. At least I won’t get stranded in the cold due to a dead battery. 2nd – I received a phone call while sitting at church preparing to get a little creative and have some chill art therapy while pondering over my list of people and their prayer requests. I stared at my phone when it rang …

My mother. I haven’t spoken to her for various reasons in the last couple years, maybe more. She is a sick woman and I don’t really have very much resentment, but it just is what it is. I haven’t reached out because of my fragile mental health at the time. It’s gotten better, but I still haven’t been ready to have a relationship with her. I answered the phone and choked. I couldn’t hang up. We talked for a least an hour … she was informing me about her end of life plans. She would like to be cremated and she is an organ donor. There is to be no service, no funeral. Information about the life insurance policy is in a ziploc baggy in her closet in the hallway of her apartment. I am a beneficiary. Whatever little money might be left would go to me – to be split with my brother. Mother’s ring would be in the ziplock baggy as well … which I am to inherit. Most leftover money might go to unpaid medical bills.

I listened to her process this for an hour. I wrote everything on a post it. An hour … the same predictable words. At some point after this, she asked me … how my brother and how daddy were doing. How was I doing? I don’t remember saying much except for mmhmm and an occassional question here and there. She rambles … it would have been hard to really say anything even if I had wanted to. I could have quite possibly said, “I’m just going to sit here and cut myself while listening to you.”

There were a lot of tears on my part. She could tell I tried to hide them but I was honest when she asked. She said that when she feels tears well up, she pushes them back. She said she easily did it during our conversation. That’s okay … I get it. If she had started crying, I don’t think I’d be comfortable at all anyway. I had to go … hung up the phone … the goodbye process typically takes at least 15 minutes with her. I was emotionally exhausted.

The timing was not awesome, but not surprising. Of course, I would be attacked in a way I hadn’t expected. Ironically, today is a day I haven’t wanted to cut at all. That phone call killed it. I cried. A few minutes later, I sat in O’s office, got held, cried a bit more. Thank God I was in there because anywhere else – full blown mania. I had to push it back and will it away. Eventually, I calmed down … that is the safest place I could have had it escalate. Mania dissipated. Any creative juice I may have had was gone … my sharpie was left uncapped as I wandered off talking on the phone. It very nearly made me flip out when I tested it – completely dried out. O sat with me a while longer … while I calmed down. Since then, I’ve come home, taken a bath, ate crap food, burned some CDs for a church ministry, and vegged out on TV. I still have no desire to cut. It is very strange … not feeling to an extent where cutting isn’t even a desirable option. What would it release me from? I already went through a wide range of emotions in less than 2 hours.

Now I sit here typing this. I have to accomplish day 2 yet of my quiet time. It will be a challenge not feeling, but I don’t want to cry anymore. I want to do it because it is a goal I set for myself … but tonight will be what it is to be, whether or not I feel anything at all.

I could choose to look at the phone call as an attack or maybe see it as something supernatural in progress. Maybe God is working behind the scenes. Maybe I’m not praying for myself, but at the same time, through my obedience … He is still preparing me through this experience for bigger things …

Does that make sense?

I’m spent.

 

Scattered and Scarred

went to study with a plan. i went with a sleeveless tank top, hoodie over it. i went with intentions to sit in back near the door so i wasn’t in everyone’s view. i sat in back because i was going to meet a friend briefly before she headed into recovery group. my primary reason for sitting in back actually wasn’t so i could have an escape route. it was because it was the only way i felt safe staying … if i were to do what i planned to do. i was going to slip off my hoodie when i felt comfortable and try to just sit. i had toyed with the idea of doing it with someone i trusted before i dared do it in a room full of women that don’t really get me. but there wasn’t time. a little insignificant thing happened right at the start of group (i am telling myself that but it’s hard to make myself believe it) that turned my confidence upside down and shook me. lie after lie after lie raping my thoughts. before this, i had gone in with a motive … even wrote my prayer request on the white board … brought my actual bible … when the study started i pushed away the thoughts and followed along with the readings and participated. i stood in the circle and listened to the prayers being spoken aloud, including the one i requested for myself. it felt good to be able to make it through. at that point, i had started to tear up … i quietly gathered my things, put my chair away and walked out to the safety of a bathroom stall where i could let my emotions do what they wanted to. i had some time to regain control of myself and sit and visit with a young friend. at this point, i was feeling spunky again … that was a victorious sort of feeling.

i left there with intent to eat with some of the women at applebees. the more i thought about it the less desire i felt for eating. my friend had already left to go so i started believing that she’s already left … just don’t go and you’re not crying right now so you’ll be fine if you just quietly go home. she already knew i was coming … i ended up in the parking lot of the restaraunt. one tear … another … a flood cascading down my cheeks. i couldn’t stop it. eventually, i sent her a text and said not to wait up. i didn’t really know all of what to say … nothing would be good enough. the only thing i should have done was go in and eat … but i felt way out of control and it caught me by surprise cause i thought i was handling things well. i left, drove to walmart, stared at garbage bags trying to compare prices and completely overwhelming myself. just get the freaking hefties and leave. eventually i did and ended up back at applebees down the road. i had started losing it again and my friend came out to my vehicle. i didn’t want to go there twice and not have accomplished anything but i couldn’t go in either. i told her that in my snotty blubbery condition that i was so scared of losing my connections in the way that i’m used to having. she said the time would go by fast and i desperately hope she’s right. the thing i am most afraid of is not having the semi-guaranteed meeting time of my counseling appointments. i voiced my concern of slipping too far too fast … even though the time during my externship might go fast, i’m worried i might snap before then for lack of balance. that was my prayer request tonight … courage, confidence, and balance as i navigate the next 3 months.

she reminded me of the lies and and the truths. i reluctantly agreed with the truths because i’ve gone over this many times with her alone … i knew the correct answers. i knew to say yes. i’ve processed this over and over and over again. i could read over truth verses and letters written to me in my box of “reasons not to relapse”. but there’s a disconnect … i know it’s correct because i’ve been told by trusted people but the truths are not believed in my heart. i think i’ve actually just realized i don’t believe the truths. why can’t i make my heart believe them?

i have self inflicted wounds that have turned into scars over the years. it doesn’t mean i’m crazy. it doesn’t mean i want to kill myself. it doesn’t meant i’m seeking your attention if they are revealed. it doesn’t mean that i am unworthy of love or that i’m broken or an eyesore. people are going to look … they are going to stare … some will turn away in disgust. some will ask  … some will remain silent … some will pretend like nothing is there. some will say nothing more than “there’s a cream for that.” some will freak out and call the cops. some will say i’m possessed and try to cast demons from me. some will disown me. some will embrace me. there are a very select few that will treat me as the person they know i am and celebrate in my victory that i trusted them enough to reveal myself.

i’ve been through it all before …

lies and truth … it feels blurred again. i need to know i’m going to survive but i don’t think i will be convinced of that for a while. until then, at least i have friends that come to my aid in parking lots when i am paralyzed with grief … thinking i will surely wither away and die. it sounds ridiculous now that i read it. i shake my head at my words.

i need to believe the truths, not just know the right answers. i need to believe …

 

Change

It’s easy to see the faults in others … it’s easy to point fingers … it’s easy to throw blame and sometimes it’s so justified. It’s easy to be the victim and to think you’re “better than” because you were treated wrongly.

It’s not easy to pray for that person. It’s not easy to put the tough situations in God’s hands and leave them there. It’s so very not easy to pray for that person to change because you wish them a miserable painful death for the sake of your own freedom.

Then change happens. It’s not easy to adjust to the change of heart of your loved one because you’re still harboring unforgiveness for how they treated you. It takes a great deal of humility to watch someone that has acted so evil to see the error of his ways, take action, repent and hunger for the Lord. It takes an enormous amount of patience and strength to not see every little relapse of behavior and expect a snap.

It takes an enormous amount of courage to take a walk, attempt to hear a word from God, and pray for change of your own heart. Even more so to call a close wise friend and ask them to pray for you. It is exhausting to ask the Lord to show you the error of your ways and how and where you need to change. It is ridiculously hard to accept that you are in no way better or any more justified to certain behaviors than someone else. It is hard to ask for your heart to be changed when you are hurting.

But here I am. In all of my ugly self-righteousness, here I am. Change me.

When you feel

The reminder remains. Black and white to be less in your face. It is painted on my bathroom cabinet. A scene from my last major relapse. I’ve become used to its presence, attached even. I’m honestly a little scared to wipe it away. A tiny part of me would feel hurt and offended and betrayed. Denying existence of some very real emotions that took place … the blood was denial in itself. Blood smiles. I had meant to draw a frown I think … but I couldn’t. Perhaps it was the flood of relief that provoked the smile. Eventually it has to go.

Today at work I wore a shirt with shorter sleeves. Only in the workroom. It made me anxious. But this morning I wanted to feel okay. It gets hot back there. Some coworkers know a little of my history … some likely don’t. I felt very exposed. It is possible that I will try again tomorrow.

Feeling intermittent shortness of breath, dizziness and nausea the past week or so … more than normal. I wonder if it is a spiritual thing manifesting as something physical. I still feel blocked. Last night I had a hard time settling … just wanting to be held by my Savior. I felt empty. I want the closeness. I need a Jesus hug.

I am thinking of fasting for that reason. But I also am thinking no way because I feel like food control is getting a hold of me lately. I need to feel spiritually fulfilled. I want it.

There’s something in the water.

So for those I don’t talk to on a regular basis, but still see my blog …

I’ve been tired, therefore a lack of updating. But life still goes on.

School is going well thus far … I attended open lab today, which of course, I was the only one there so I got all the tasks to myself. Nail clipping, F-leuk testing, making blood smears and CBC, venipuncture (annoying tiny femoral veins and wiggly cats) … but it’s good. Practice is good … alsdjfalkfjaljf. It’s good.

Two counseling appointments ago, I called mom …. listening to her answering machine message and then hung up. A day later she called me back … so apparently she has caller id and knew it was me. She left a message … very to the point and business-like sounding … I decided I’m not calling her back unless I’m in a safe place. It’s way too triggering and upsetting. And I shouldn’t keep testing that theory either.

I worked last Sunday at the shelter … after I came home from a very long and annoying morning, I so just wanted to sleep the rest of the day away, hide, and be left alone. I came home to be completely surprised as my dad told me he had gone to church that morning … a number of Charles Stanley sermons on tv finally pestered his heart enough to go. He went alone. He went early and sat on one of the back benches, listening to the tail end of the first sermon. He tithed a very difficult amount to give. He’s been trying hard these past few days. I went to church with him tonight … originally, I said I didn’t want to. About a half hour before service, I went out to the garage and found him sitting and reading. I asked if he still wanted to go … he was getting tired and kinda wasn’t in the mood anymore. Not really wanting to go myself, but already pretty much making up my mind to do it anyway, I asked if he was sure. He wasn’t sure. He let me decide. I didn’t know. This indecisiveness was passed back and forth for all of 2 minutes. Eventually, I said “Well, clearly we both need to go. This is stupid.” That ended it.

I’m glad we went … I’m glad he is feeling happier, but we all know it’s going to be hard. He is so afraid of failing. I’m afraid of it all. God needs to be at the center of my family and dad is hungry for it and I know we need it … but it’s unfamiliar and provides me with a level of discomfort I don’t feel I’m emotionally equipped to deal with right now. Then I feel selfish … like my safe place is going to no longer be a refuge for me to hide when things get bad. I’m struggling not to resign to the “things will get bad again so why get your hopes up” kind of mentality.

I feel like maybe sometime soon it could be safe enough to reveal all of what I’ve been holding back … but I have to be careful. I’m afraid of losing control if I do. I’m afraid of all of my thoughts being in the wide open. Words spoken most frequently make me uncomfortable … “I don’t worry about you so much because you have all of your women at church, but your brother has no one … he’s the one I worry about.” It makes me shy away and question my motives for saying anything at all … so for now, I’ll stay silent. He is also having surgery on the 9th again … the less stress and worry to him the better …

Also, I’ve stepped lightly back into the dating scene of christian mingle. God help me. I am so uncomfortable and suddenly not sure what I want or if I’m worthy. That area of my life seems impossible, closed off, and non-existant for my future. I am attempting to trust in God for whatever He wants to do with that.

Vivid thoughts of cutting continue. A relapse last Tuesday with a safety pin bracelet. The scratches are healed over now. I shouldn’t have called mom … it’s the final straw of what I think threw me into a manic state and I needed the tension release. And I was disappointed I wasn’t caught. Sad but true.

This post was not meant to be quite so heavy … I guess my brain is less vacant than I thought.

I am also feeling a great, great love for my church family … my heart is swollen.

What They Said.

• Drove to school this morning, so consumed in my thoughts, that I nearly rear-ended people multiple times.
• First day of class … fine … good. Tiring. Unsurprising.
• Saw archived videos from my youth group playing from 10+ years ago at church today upon entering. Many clips contained my best friend who died … threw me off.
• Bible study tonight. I very nearly didn’t go but I was trying to do the opposite of what I felt. While we were to be studying in the book of Esther – they spoke to me when it was quiet. I could hear them. “I hate the bible”, is what nearly popped out of my mouth. I’m glad I didn’t … it’s not true and it would have been embarrassing.
• Jenni noticed I didn’t have a button. She pinned one on my purse. She wouldn’t let me leave without it. “Living Fearless” is what it says. My head screamed to get away. They said “You are scared.”
• They wanted me to drive home without my lights on. Reckless … illegal … tempting and taunting.
• Called Jenni, left a voicemail, and told her what I experienced in the last couple hours because I didn’t want it all to escalate in my head.
• I felt sedated driving home … pulled … found myself closing my eyes on the road. The glare of the headlights from oncoming traffic was brutal. I wanted it to stop.
• I made it home … here I am … writing this down … getting it out of my head …
• I wonder if I can get away with sleeping all day tomorrow.

Thoughts about God …

I finally had a counseling appointment today … last week I skipped out. The week before that was cancelled due to weather. As icky as it felt to be back … I’m glad I was. I need to get back on track … temptations have been strong to cut and I’ve been consistently down the past couple weeks … ironically, I don’t think I want to cut because I’m depressed … I have just been missing it.

I felt like a phony during my session … the issue about taking meds again came up. I knew it would be brought up again … the whole idea does scare me and make me sorta angry … I would give one reason for not wanting to take them, she’d say something in response … than I would change my answer … completely contradicting myself but both reasons were true in my head … I’m afraid of overdosing because of fear of getting addicted which could inadvertently cause me to take so many that I might get sick which might make me want to die … just endless excuses that somehow make sense to me … besides the fact that I can’t financially afford medical insurance anymore … blah blah blah … she’s right. I’m fighting myself. I’m fighting all the things that could make me feel safe and whole and healthy again … why? I hate that I feel so abstract and when I try to voice feelings and thoughts I find myself trailing off and not making sense to anyone but myself … yet I stop listening to what I’m saying because it sounds so redundant and ridiculous …

It really is exhausting … truly …

I’m still scared of medication. It does frustrate me to think that I need a pill … why can’t God just take it all away … ultimately, I would like to believe and take hold of the healing that HE has for me … but all of the other excuses cloud that. I did however reschedule my MMPI appointment for next Monday …

I was taking a bath a little while ago … listening to a variety of different praise and worship songs … random shuffled playlist on my phone … I was thinking about how I fear the Holy Spirit a little bit … I shy away inside when people start talking in tongues around me and it makes me anxious … I used to want to feel the indwelling of the Holy Spirit for myself … I want it now but it terrifies me … the complete surrender … I’m afraid of being controlled. I’m afraid that if I ever got filled to overflowing and started babbling … that I would be trying to force it and it wouldn’t be real … like I’d be faking it but not on purpose … I have doubts that I’d ever be sure that what was coming out was from God …

The majority of the times I’ve cut has been done in the bathtub … in the same setting that I was in tonight. The candles were alive … and calming. The water was warm and enveloping … like the presence of God that I never felt when the blood flowed … the bathtub could maybe now become my alter … I can be quiet and listen to the music and be alone … I can allow Him to be all I need in that moment …

And hopefully that’s the beginning of forever …

Speaking of cutting, I guess it’s been just about a month … if not a little longer … the last blades have been given up almost a month ago now … if only the thoughts were that simple … I do feel that because I still have them, I am destined to fail eventually … out of sight, out of mind … that is what I guess was hoping to happen … get rid of the blades, all will be fine … move on … scars remind me every day … relapse isn’t just physical … it’s mental, emotional … spiritual … it’s all too close for comfort.

I just want to be consistent with my thoughts and be comfortable not having the blades handy … I want to believe there is healing of the mind …

I do want God to take my attraction to cutting away and make me attracted to His heart instead … but I wonder if that’s possible still … how can I take the dirty and make it clean again …

The cleansing process is horribly painful … and scary. I don’t want to be scared anymore …

On a semi-lighter note, I took a small step out of my comfort zone and followed through on some plans with a new friend … coffee and conversation that I needed … I’m glad she asked me lots of questions … she thought was being a little pushy but not at all … I’m not good at spontaneously engaging in conversation … even less with people I don’t know well. She helped me draw me out of my shell a little bit … it was good.

I also hope to purchase new scrubs next week … I asked Jenni to come with me … I want new scrubs that fit better which will help me be more comfortable when I am stressed out during class next quarter. I am clinging to a small shred of hope that I might be able to find some that are a little longer on the sleeves so that when I have to scrub in the sleeves don’t ride up as much … that would be nice but chances are slim I will find anything different than the norm …

I have some other things in mind that I hope to do with her that day to … mentioned in previous blog posts … mainly just want to feel safe in the presence of God … I don’t know. Sounds kinda silly when I read it or say it out loud … too intimate sounding …

I am starting to get depressed again … not sure why … it’s hard to lift yourself out when you don’t know what’s bringing you down exactly …

I guess it’s just the weight of my thoughts …

God is still good though.

Songs

I don’t know what I’m feeling … either that or I’m being resistant and in denial … I honestly can’t say for sure, but it’s bothersome.

It really bothers me …

Why can’t I let go? Why won’t it let me go …?

I want to be changed …

Women’s retreat + expanding comfort zone bucket list.

I went to MAG Women’s retreat this year. It was my first time … my friends have been trying to get me to go for approx. the last 3 years before this one. I didn’t go out of fear, finances, etc … but this year I made the choice I would and I absolutely needed to be there …

I sent an email to my ladies explaining how the weekend was for me … I won’t write all of that here, but I will take a most meaningful experience from there and share it here.

i ripped out all the pages in my book, had the blades in my hand … i had to do something … kristi came up with me to the altar and i left them at the altar because i didn’t want my only memories of retreat to be bad … i wanted to let them go but they wouldn’t let go of me. the altar call was intense … i was exhausted … i remember being so tense that i couldn’t move or breathe. there are moments i couldn’t make out what kristi was saying to me … i couldn’t make my body obey what she wanted me to do … i was out of control. i was bound … like something was sitting on my chest and throat. i couldn’t make words come out of my mouth. i couldn’t unclench my fists … i couldn’t stop thinking about cutting … and how the blades were surrendered once again and the feelings of regret and fear that came with it. i needed to hold on to the stage with one hand so i couldn’t hurt myself. i needed to pound my fists and i think at one point i remember kicking the stage … no control. i was pinned down and trying to break away and fighting for my life and sanity … if kristi wasn’t there, i would have passed out cause i don’t remember breathing … my heart hurt. she eventually was able to get me to sit up, but i couldn’t keep my head up anymore …. i was shutting down … i remember slipping away from myself and being brought back …

This experience took place on Saturday night. It was something that I won’t ever forget … the presence of God was there and I was fighting it but I didn’t want to. I couldn’t relax. The pages I talked about leaving at the altar were journal entries I had been writing since I got there on Friday afternoon. It was all negative … suicidal sounding … it was dark and hopeless … and I decided I didn’t want to keep those as my only memory of the weekend. I wanted to let them go … so I ripped them out and laid them on the altar with the two remaining blades I’ve been holding on to for a while. I am bladeless again … I imagine it’s probably been just over a week since I last cut …

The weekend centered alot around being transparent … I’ve been thinking about this and I want to work more on letting my humaness show. It’s scary showing imperfections and being honest about what you struggle with …

Since last night after getting home, I’ve had this short little list in my head about things I want to do that will help me with this …

• I’ve gone to a group called Raiders of the Lost Arts. It’s our church knitting/crocheting ministry … and the couple times I’ve gone I’ve brought my drawing books and pencils and worked on my own thing. Well, even though I don’t think I’ll like it very much … I want to learn … or at least try it once. Maybe I am convincing myself I won’t like it because I don’t have very much confidence in trying to do new things. However, at this moment I would be open in being taught one on one …. the more I think about it, the more important it becomes to me.
• At retreat, I shared my lodge room with my friend Joan. She knows in detail about how I struggle with s.i. Very very few people have ever seen the extent of my scarring … it’s not something you show. However, hiding the scars keeps you isolated and ashamed. I wore a tank top around bedtime in our room. Even when I was by myself, I felt so very exposed when I wore it. For me to be wearing it when she was around, even though it wasn’t a very long period of time, was a huge step for me. I don’t know if she saw my arms at any point, but I felt safe in that room … and I feel a little bit less isolated now that I’ve taken that step. When it starts getting warmer outside, my desire for myself is to be able to be comfortable around those I am increasingly growing closer to … and to feel like I can wear clothes like other people wear and not be afraid of judgement. Again, cuts wouldn’t be fresh … just scars … and only around people that know me.
• Also at retreat, we had a game night … there was so much going on and I felt very over-stimulated so I mostly avoided being in there … Jenni wanted me to do the bungee run with her … I just now saw a photo of her doing it with another lady from church … I should have been running next to her, but because I wouldn’t … I became the keeper of her hat while she got harnessed in and ran. Looking at the photo makes me sad … it makes me realize how much fun I missed out on because I wouldn’t allow it for myself. I know how much fun it would have been because I’ve done it before and have had whiplash from it. Good times. So, because I missed out on this, I want to do something else completely silly with my friend Jenni … so we both can laugh … whether or not the two of us are alone or in a group. I might be open to a dance party of two in her living room. I don’t dance … I never dance …. I don’t even like dancing by myself. But I need to do it.
• I need to start using my stilts. I love watching youtube vids of people doing tricks and listening to awesome music. I think the only reason why I haven’t used them is because no one else around here has them. I am scared to use them in public and try anything for fear of failing. This spring when it gets warmer, I want to be gutsy enough to bring them to church and play in the parking lot. It will be a great outlet for me … mentally, physically, emotionally … all of the above. Self esteem wise, it could be awesome knowing that I have these crazy leg extensions that not many people I know are even willing to try. It feels good knowing I can do something that others aren’t willing to do … but that doesn’t mean I don’t want them to try! It would be nice to teach someone the skill … and feel useful.
• I am still wanting to take O up on displaying my art at church … this would help people get inside my head … without the fear and intimidation of me introducing myself face to face. My humaness would be on display … my struggles and victories … and my pictures could portray what can’t be put into words … testimony. I do okay one on one meeting people – usually if someone I already know and trust introduces me … than I feel like I can begin a friendship. Maybe my art can be a gateway to meeting new people … maybe even a ministry like Raiders can become of it someday …

I will think of more things … but I think the above list is a good start. Baby steps … I am glad I can take these steps now with the support I so desperately needed and lacked for so long. Now, I just need to try … one at a time … with one person … and allow them to help me bring my guard down and let others in.

I feel inspired …