Okay, where was I?

Yeah...anyway...so I thought about it and thought about what my therapist at Remuda told my SP when he told Betsy he was concerned that I do self-harm. She was a bit short with him and told him that it's wasn't like I was going to get stressed and cut in front of a kid! Which is true. So, I try to keep the cuts to where they won't be seen...and I am trying to stop...I have good days and bad days and daays when I can care less what coping skills I learned. SI beats "feeling" his hands, his tongue (ewwww...to this day...ewwww....!) in my mouth...to the panic I feel so much now that I have dredged this up from the land of semi-dead memories into my waking thoughts. I think I mentioned this before..."BUFFY" triggered me.

Anyway, I admit...right now I don't really feel the pain when I cut...that's usually the case...it's seeing what happens after and the pain one feels when you put on a pair of jeans (no jeans today!) or anything else that may rub against the cuts.

I just want to have it all stop. The behaviors, of course, because..well...HELLO...but the thoughtsand feelings and all that. I want to believe what people say about me, I want to believe that warts and all I am that person they say I am...but I look in the mirror, I look at everything that has been part of my life and it's like, "You don't know...you all think you see...but you DON'T." Rob, however, stands as the voive of "truth" in my life right now and that is probably a good thing.

Gos is truth, the Bible is truth...I know what it says about me and how God created me...I teach it...but it is like there this an asterick saying "not for Deneice." In my head and heart of hearts and the me who knows and loves God with all that I am knows it is a lie...because that is the part that reached OUT for God when she was 12 because she saw His healing power in a neighborhood family.

Yet remains the core beliefs ingrained in her as she watched her daddy die, as she hid the pills that her mother didn't manage to swallow, as she endured beating with belts and brushes and fists and hands...as she heard show stuoid she was, how lazy, how disrespectful, how her mother would never be happy as long as she existed...that no one would want to marry her mother as long as there was a child there...a child born of sex outside marriage...beliefs ingrained because she was heavy and therefore not acceptable and $$ was offered to lose weight....that her family put her on her first diet at 5 or 6 sending the message that she was ugly as she was...beliefs ingrained because her mother would leave her with her grandfather and he had to bundle her up at 2 AM because a cop pulled she and my grandmother over for drunk driving...was told by her own mother she was adopted (okay...said once...but still)...

In the scheme of things...I had an easy childhood. But there are things that while forgiven...has left its mark on the psyche that forgiveness and understanding has not erased.

So, at the core of it all I remember that there is a God of love who even loves me...who went to the cross for me and would do it again. There are moments that simple fact keeps me from not tossing it all away. It is in those moments of simple faith that save me that moment.

I have a plan...God has a bigger one.
I have a method...so does He (even if I don't get it).
I have a time frame...He does, too.

I just have to remember that over and over!