I'd like to reflect a little on the whole crisis that happened in the beginning of last semester. I wrote a lot during that time about how hopeless things were, and now that it has passed, I think I should give the conclusion.
Quite honestly, I can't really remember what happened. I know the things I keep repeating when people ask, but it's all really just empty. That whole part of my soul was really just sucked away. That doesn't make it go away though... it's just numb. For now.
I did get through it, but not without wounds. I broke. People have actually congratulated me on getting through such an experience. Somehow, I almost feel hurt by that though. It's not like it was just another test. This was every bit of my soul.
My faith was really hurt during this time also. The typical reaction for people to have when something goes wrong is, "Where were you God?" This isn't so much what happened with me. I don't even think it can really be explained in words. I think my soul just got so battered that it wrapped up inside itself. I was scared, but didn't want any help. I think I was just afraid of everything, and gave up so much that I didn't even bother asking God for help.
I didn't stop believing, and I didn't lose my faith. But, I didn't develope at all either. It isn't like this experience has strengthened my "spiritual walk" as many people assume that it must have. Generally speaking, when a Christian is "attacked" by evil, and they are able to get through it, they feel like they have grown stronger in their faith.
I don't quite know what happened to me. I think that, although others may think the situation came out positive (and it did eventually, in many ways) and was a success, I really just died and eventually floated back to the surface to a crowd of people that thought that everything must be okay because I'm alive again. It isn't enough just to be alive though.
Back to the faith thing though...
The point I am at now feels like I've gone back several years of my life. I remember as a kid, I knew the stories, the rules, the answers... But, I didn't really let Jesus live inside of me. I lived like a Christian, but I got stuck in that ditch between having religion and having a relationship with Christ.
It wasn't until my Sophmore or Junior year of highschool that I realized that I wasn't going anywhere. I started praying, real prayers, and reading my Bible every night. It isn't that I never did this before, but it was at that point where I wanted difference. Change happened. I changed from being a dumb girl who just followed along with stupid highschool antics, to someone who could really stand her ground, and make decisions on her own. I can't say that I suddenly became this Godly woman, but I was able to see things clearer.
When the incident happened, I retracted from everything I ever knew. It isn't that God forgot about me, or he was just seeing how I would do on my own. I know He was there, because when I look back, I really wonder why I didn't either run away or just kill myself. Things began falling in place after that too, which leads me to believe that he was setting the stage for the next scene.
Right now, spiritually, I'm a little lost. I have the knowledge I've always had. If someone were to ask for advice on something, I'd respond the way I always have, keeping God first in everything in life. I know the difference between right and wrong, and I think I have a deep maturity as a young Christian. For now though, I can't talk to Him. It isn't because I'm mad about anything. It isn't because I don't have time.
I ... don't think I care to right now.
I've tried. I've tried praying a lot since then, and the most I can ever get out is, "Help me." It's sufficient though. God doesn't really need an explanation.
It's like when your Dad goes on a trip somewhere for several days. He hasn't abandoned you, or stopped caring about you. He'll call on the phone and talk to you, but it's kind of empty. You can't really express how you feel much on the phone. What would you say anyway? You just wait until he gets home to feel alive again...
I guess that's it. Although, God hasn't gone on a trip away from me. I think I've gone on the trip, and I don't really like it.
For now, I'm trying. I think that eventually, I'll be okay. I'd like for the people who think I'm alright because I managed to "get through" to know that you can get through anything, but not without permanent wounds. It doesn't really matter though. This is between me and God.
Other than that, I'm doing alright. I feel alive again. Instead of waking up every morning wondering what kind of tragedy is going to happen, I can wake up with a goal in mind. I want to get better at things again. I want to grow again. Before, I basically just wanted to be incinerated.
I noticed how much of a shell I had become during that time by sorting through photos I've taken throughout the year. I've made it a habit to take photos of myself every so often, because I know that I change a lot, and I want to be able to remember where I was in my life. It's also to try to improve my photography skills. You won't learn unless you keep doing it, no matter how bad you start out. Trust me, I have plenty of really terrible photos.
Broken
Empty
Lost
Sleeping in the leather lounge?
Falling apart
But... somehow things changed. I think it was sometime after I met Jessica and Anthony. They gave me some hope. It took a while, but I started coming back to life. It took several months to be able to talk about anything without crying, but now that it has passed, I can smile again.
Look at that. I think she's going to be okay.
-Lisa
(sorry about the sloppy code in this post)
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