He writhes in agony. Pouring a glass of milk is five minute task. His muscles constrict and contort, often causing him endless hours of pain. He is a prisoner in his own body. During the years since he was diagnosed, he has given himself two black eyes, several punches to the stomach, and bloody swollen cheeks. He has a rare form of Tourette Syndrome. He literally beats himself up day in and day out. He lived through much of his childhood believing that there was no hope, that he would spend the rest of his life behind the iron bars of his own flesh. His eyes were empty, devoid of light or peace. The strange thing is that I understand his pain. I have been there, if only inside my mind. I too have constant spasms of self inflicted abuse.
While my bruises and scars are not visible to the outside world, I see them every day. Every day I am reminded of the terrible deeds I’ve done, the hateful words I’ve spoken, the bad choices I’ve made. Each memory is like a punch to the stomach, the eyes, the mouth. I am a prisoner inside my own mind. Like the young man, I am my own worst enemy, held captive by the demons inside that attempt to destroy the life I’m trying to make for myself. I have had days like he has- despair and agony threaten to overtake me and I am left writhing on the floor, begging for release of my chains.
For people who suffer with Tourette Syndrome, there is good news. Recently scientists have discovered a way to slow down the frequency of the tics, offering hope to millions. Doctors install a device deep into the brain that gently “speaks” to the area causing the tics. This process slows down the attacks, causing much needed relief for the sufferer. Since having had the surgery, the young man is no longer in despair. He is a husband and a new father. He is hopeful. The tics have not left his body; they cannot because there is no cure for this disease. However, they have significantly slowed enough for the young man to live a meaningful and enjoyable life. Finally, he is at peace. He has found a way to overcome the demons in his own flesh.
I too have found a remedy for the brutal attacks that overtake my mind, soul, and spirit. While I will not be cured, I can be made whole again. There is a Book full of hope, promise, and peace. It speaks to the inner parts of me that are bent on destruction and failure. It softens the blows of the enemy, speaking Truth to the innermost parts and silences his threats of death and hatred. Every time I read this Book, I hear words of encouragement, love, and acceptance. I am reminded that every foul thing I have ever done has been forgiven. This gives me strength to go forward one more day. Like the young man, my condition is incurable. Also like the young man, I have found hope and new life through a device that speaks directly to the very places that held me captive. I am free.
"The thief does not come except to steal, and to kill, and to destroy. I have come that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly."
John 10:10
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Last Friday I went to a concert. I saw Chris Daughtry and Lifehouse on the same stage! So much fun. Those guys put on an amazing show. When we got there and found our seats I was a little disapointed. I don't particularly like the way that arena is set up. It just feels so impersonal. I can't explain my logic so if you don't understand, it's ok. Moving on. Soon after the show started I began to appreciate our location just a little bit more. The lead singer from Lifehouse walked right past us and sat down just a few feet away. I guess it pays to get seats right next to security! My husband and step-son got to briefly meet the band and shake hands with each member. The girl behind me got a hug! Then the drama happened.
I saw an unfortunate incident unfold right in front of us. People in our immediate family who also happened to be there were escorted out by the police. My step-son was in tears and one thing kept running through my mind. Praise God that I am not the person I used to be. While the concert was incredibly awesome, nothing takes the place of good old fashioned worship. I've seen Third Day live. Those guys not only rock out, they rock out while they praise God. That is the kind of enviornment I enjoy being in. 10,000 screaming fans enjoying good music while lifting up the name of Jesus- that is my heaven.
I am so thankful that I worship Jesus and not Jack Daniels. It was an amazing night but it was also a night full of drama and sadness. My step-son saw things that no child should have to see. While it pains me that he was so hurt on his birthday, it is also a somber reminder of where I've come from and where I never hope to return. It is a reminder that everything we do affects everyone around us. Every day when I wake up I ask God to show me how to do it right. Show me, Lord how to be the mother you created me to be. I want to avoid making choices that reflect poorly on you, I want to show my child what the love of Christ really looks like, and I want to stray further and further away from the life I left behind when I turned to Jesus and away from Jack Daniels.
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I've been going through my old journals lately and stumbled across this one by accident. I find it fascinating that as sick as I was, I still have a tendency to hang on to wrong thinking. I am allowed to forgive myself because God already did.
January 9, 1998
Hi Patty-
It was really nice to visit with you last night. You are such a warm, caring person. You’re also very thoughtful and I loved the presents you gave me. I’m looking forward to seeing you today even though I am exhausted. I requested for them to change my medicine for the morning. Maybe I shouldn’t have switched roommates so fast. My roommate snores and she sleeps all the time. I don’t know how much sleep I got but it wasn’t much.
I talked to a nurse today and told her how I got in here. She said it was very smart of me to call. It shows intelligence because I know it’s wrong to kill myself and I made the necessary steps. I was writing about all the things I miss about home- my perfume, my music, my jewelry. These are all things that I value. They’re signatures of me. I think there’s a part of me that is so stubborn, I refuse to admit that there is good about me, even things that are lovable. I think maybe I don’t want to admit it because then I’d have to deal with all the bad things I’ve done. It’s all really complicated. Anyway, I hope that while I’m here I get the help I need. If I don’t I’ll go crazy.
I talked with a nurse a few minutes ago and learned something really interesting. She told me that because of the abuse, not having a middle ground and not being allowed to make mistakes it would be natural for me to beat myself up when I do screw up. I knew this but what was interesting was what she said next. I am at a fork in the road and I am starting to realize that it is ok to make big mistakes. It doesn’t mean that I am not worth something or that I have to lay down and die. I’m starting to understand that I’m still a good person that is allowed to make mistakes and be forgiven. I can forgive myself because this is not the person I am or want to be. There is a gray area and I’m finding it. Maybe getting here has taught me that I am not going to quit because I happen to be human. I’m going to live and I will be ok.
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