Positive anniversary time!

Last month was a time of anniversaries of unpleasant experiences and difficult times. I am so glad to say that this month is the month of happy anniversaries and good memories. This coming week is my wedding anniversary, and later this month it is the anniversary of meeting my husband. (We met just under a year before our wedding).

I am so happy that I have been able to move on enough in my life to meet and marry my soul mate. I know a lot of people say these things and I am risking being incredibly cheesy, but I really feel that he is the right person for me. I was in a bad way when I met him, not sure if I could trust anyone enough to enter a relationship. I had just had an on-off relationship with someone who wasn't sure of his own feelings, the first relationship I had attempted after the abuse, and I wasn't sure how I could meet anyone normal / sensible / ready for a relationship.  I had had a few years of the disconcerting feeling that I wanted someone to be kind and romantic, being attracted to various people who weren't interested and finding that I was too scared anyway. I was convinced I was unlovable and too messed up in the head for anyone to really want me, and yet I kept finding that I was still a romantic at heart and wanted to be loved for being me. I was also convinced that because nobody would want me, I would never be able to become a mother, which had been a dream of mine since childhood. I became angry at people I knew who were having children, and horribly jealous. It was very difficult and I remember praying that God either send me someone to marry or take away the desire to have a child as I just couldn't understand why he would give me such a strong desire for something that would never be able to happen.

Being introduced to my husband by some lovely matchmaking mutual friends was a big risk for me. I wasn't sure if it was a good idea but decided that I had nothing to lose. I had known my friends for a while, and they had known my now husband for over eight years and so I decided to trust their judgement and exchange emails and facebook messages before meeting so I could suss out what he was like. I prayed about it a lot and asked for advice from family and friends before deciding to actually meet him, but once we met, we hit it off so easily and so amazingly well that it was hard to believe we had only just met. Finding someone who I could truly relax with was awesome, and I still can't believe that I have someone so much like me who believes in me so much.

Our wedding day was just what I always wanted. Simple but lovely, with all the people I could have wanted there, with the exception of my grandparents, who sadly had passed away before they ever got to meet my husband and see me find happiness. We chose the hymns that mattered to us, including 'Be Thou my Vision', because for us, the service was the most important part. I will never forget walking into the church and seeing so many lovely people there wishing us both all the best. The reception was fun too, but it was the service that really mattered to me. I wanted to give thanks to God for bringing me to that point in my life, from the bad times to the good ones. The reading we chose was significant too. My ex had always used scripture as a weapon to make me do as he wanted, especially Ephesians 5:22-24, which says that wives are to submit to their husbands. However, for our wedding we chose this passage but put it in context, so had the reading from verse 21 to verse 33, and from The Message translation. If you're not familiar with the passage we chose, it starts by saying that everyone should submit to one another out of love for Christ. It then says wives are to submit to their husbands, but husbands are to love their wives as Christ loved the church (in other words, be prepared to die for her). It was really important to me to reclaim this passage for its true meaning.

This doesn't mean that I promised to obey my husband in our wedding vows. Submission and obedience are two different things. I'm not going to go into this here as its quite complicated, but needless to say, it was my decision to have this reading at our wedding as a sign to myself and to everyone else that I was free to make my own choices in this relationship.

And of course, just over a year and a half later, we had our daughter and I had no reason to be angry or jealous of my friends or family any more for having their children. I had always felt guilty for feeling that way anyway. I sometimes find parenting really hard, but it's a journey I am very glad to be on.

It's nice to be able to write about positive anniversaries after the unhappy remembrances of April. I'm trying to remind myself to look at the more recent past and enjoy what I have, and to look forward to the future too.

I make no apology for how soppy this post has been, by the way!

The difficult choice to be positive

Today marks the anniversary of the start of the last five days of living with my ex.  The anniversary of the worst of the assaults, the rape and the sleep deprivation which culminated in my ex telling me I had to leave as he was worried about what he would do to me next. The anniversary week of being told by the police that they may well have been dealing with me as a murder victim had I remained in the situation any longer.

Every year I have flashbacks where I relive what happened. Or at the very least, memories keep edging their way into my conscious thoughts and I find myself constantly having to bat them away or fill my mind with other things to keep myself distracted. Every April I tell myself, 'it's been so long, maybe that reaction will have gone away this year'. And every year I find that it hasn't.

I have had years where I have been less burdened with memories. I have tried various tactics to combat their appearance. I have had days to myself, to process everything. I have had times where I have chosen to forget the anniversary entirely (this was not at all successful and resulted in me sitting in church in tears - a bit embarrassing, to tell the truth as I then felt I needed to explain why I was crying...) and this year I have decided to do something a little different.

I am having a party with some of my lovely friends to celebrate the freedom that I now have. I am not sure if I will feel in the party mood by the time the day arrives, but I think if I can surround myself all morning with people and make myself be up-beat, I may just make it through that day without getting bogged down in negative emotions.

I am choosing to be positive, because if I think about it without the emotions and the memories popping into my head, there is so much to be thankful for. I have achieved much since my ex was arrested - not to blow my own trumpet, but it ranges from being brave enough to go to his sentencing hearing, to getting myself back into my old job and all that entailed within eight months, to going back to university and studying for my master's degree in a city I had never lived in before, all whilst suffering from PTSD.... Plus I have found and married someone who is truly good and caring, and have a beautiful (if rather challenging) little girl who fills my days with so much activity that there isn't much time to think about anything else!

It is not easy to choose to be positive with all this temptation to focus on the bad experiences I had, but I believe it is really important. Along with choosing to forgive my ex, which I still struggle with enormously, focussing on the celebration of my freedom rather than the intrusive memories gives me the possibility of one day leaving it all behind and being able to live in the present with the life that I now have. I believe that this is what God is calling me to do, and that somehow I can help others to do this too.

The valley of dry bones

I wrote this post as an anonymous guest blogger for Restored's blog (originally just for the Survivors' Network but eventually to be included in their website blog), but thought you might like to read it here too:

I am a survivor, and my story has been shared many times, in many places, to raise awareness of domestic abuse and how it can happen to anyone. It was a gradual increase from working on my self-esteem, to cutting me off from my family and friends, controlling my money and my social contact, and finally, to extreme violence. It took me by surprise and I was in denial even afterwards as to how it could have happened to me. But fortunately it was taken seriously by the authorities and my ex was given a considerable custodial sentence.

After I left my ex and moved back in with my parents, I started to question why God had allowed such a horrendous thing to happen to me. I had been told by the police that in terms of injuries, mine was one of the worst cases they had dealt with, and they believed that I would have been killed by my abuser if I had remained in the situation for just a few days more. These thoughts started to circulate in my head and I started to question how a God who loved me could have stood by and let me be so badly treated without any sign of reprieve until the day I finally managed to leave.

It took many months, perhaps even years of working through this that I finally realised that God does love me and was always with me, but I was totally unaware of it at the time. There’s a passage in Ezekiel 37 (verses 1-14) that came to me at the time and still resonates with me now.

The prophet Ezekiel is taken in a vision to a valley full of dry, dead bones. The Lord tells him to prophesy to them, to tell them that the Lord says he will make them join together again, be covered with tendons, and muscles and skin. Ezekiel does as he is told, and the bones join together in front of him, and become covered in flesh, but they are not alive. Then God tells him to tell the wind to come and blow life into the dead and they stand up and come back to life. God explains to Ezekiel that these bones represent the people of Israel and how they are feeling cut off from God, and then makes a promise that the people will be brought back to the land of Israel and he will put his spirit in them.

The reason that this passage has resonance with me is this: My faith died when I left my abusive ex. It had been struggling for a while but I had been clinging onto it with all my might even through the bad times because it felt as if it was all I had left of my deepest self, that hadn’t already been beaten or somehow taken from me already. But because I somehow couldn’t deny God’s existence, I felt I couldn’t totally turn my back on him, which is why I ended up searching for answers instead of just denying he was there at all. The main thing that I couldn’t understand was how God could be a God of love and yet watch me go through such horrendous experiences without doing anything, seeing as I had been led to believe in a God of miracles. But as I searched further, I realised that he did a lot more than I realised.

I was given someone to keep an eye out for me long before I realised I needed it. I had for a while attended a local church (before my ex got suspicious of me going and made it too difficult), where the minister had expressed concern and offered to help me any time I needed it. Two years later when I needed to get away somewhere safe, he was the person I called. The next door neighbours had long had concerns about me and had reported it to the police on a number of occasions, both at the house we had lived at last, and at our previous address. When the police needed to gather evidence, both sets of neighbours were willing to give statement which assisted the trial no end. These were people who I had barely met, and to this day have been unable to thank, but am so grateful to them. Finally, when things had reached their worst point, my ex suddenly turned around one day and told me I had to leave as he was worried about what he would do to me next, and a few hours later, he walked me to the bus stop and waved me off. The next time I saw him was in court when I attended his sentencing hearing (once he had changed his plea to guilty on all charges, another miracle). Even the willingness of my very caring workplace to give statements to the police for use in the trial was further evidence of God’s help as I had been unable to share with anyone what had been going on. God was there but I did not see him at work.

God restored my faith through loving friends and family, and various churches I attended over the years. I was able to question and challenge on many occasions about where God is when we suffer. My faith came back together and had life breathed back into it, and I was able to reaffirm my baptismal vows a few years ago as a result. God is with me and I know that he loves me and will never let me go.

The effects of taking up a challenge

Last time I wrote in this blog I talked about taking up driving again, and how I was facing up to my fears. Well, a few weeks on, I thought you might be interested to know how that is going.

Well, first of all, the driving itself is going well. I am beginning to think about looking for a car of my own, and although I do not yet feel that I could drive without an instructor by my side, I feel that with the right amount of forcing myself to practise, I could get confident enough to at least cope with short, local journeys until I build up to more difficult driving.

Facing up to my fears has been a bit more challenging. I rather naively thought that once I started facing my fears, all of the stress and anxiety would melt away. Unfortunately this has not exactly happened how I thought it would. Put simply, just because you are being brave and facing your fears does not make the fear itself go away. You still feel the fear, but have resolved to continue in spite of it. This is what I have been reminding myself of repeatedly in the last few weeks. I am still afraid of not being a safe enough driver, of being dangerous to myself and other road users by not being able to drive as well as I ought. But I have to keep reminding myself that I was deemed safe enough to drive all that time ago when I passed my test, and I can regain that level of competence with practice.

I am focussed on the goal of the independence that car ownership will bring. I am choosing to look at that rather than at the nerves and stress I currently experience behind the wheel when I am taken by my instructor through busy traffic (particularly if it involves roundabouts!). There's a great couple of verses in Paul's letter to the Philippians, chapter 3 verses 13-14, which talks of a man running a race, keeping his eyes fixed on the prize in front of him. This passage is talking about the prize of heaven, but it is a good analogy for what I am trying to say as well.

But the next few weeks will be challenging. Not only do I hope to start my search for my own car, but I will also have the yearly flashbacks and unwanted emotions that have plagued me for a number of years since my abusive relationship ended. Even when I choose not to think about it, I remember the way I was treated, just how horrendous it all was, and I mentally count down another year of his sentence gone, another year less of his incarceration... I find myself dwelling on things that are best forgotten, even when I tell myself that it is all in the past and not part of my life any more.

It is in these moments that I need to remind myself what I have achieved. I have faced the fear and survived; no, more than that, I have overcome. I kept my faith in God and would now consider it to be stronger than when my ex tried to take it from me. I healed physically and mentally, and am now tackling my fear of driving which was a result of the mental health scars I had. I found a loving relationship, married and have a child - something I would never have considered possible. I went back to university, proved to myself that I have a brain and am capable of so many things he made me believe I wasn't.

In fact, I would love to turn the anniversary of his arrest into a celebration of my own freedom, rather than a series of flashbacks looking at what he did in the days leading up to that day. I am thinking of trying to organise some kind of special day with friends, so am going to get planning!

Who's in the driving seat?

I have a confession to make. It wasn't something I realised that I was doing until recently, but I have now come to the point where I am aware and have to say:

I was living in fear, and now it's time for that to stop.

I'm not talking about the fear I experienced whilst living in an abusive situation. I have only ever been in an abusive relationship once, and that happened a number of years ago now. I am not afraid of any person currently in my life. Nor am I afraid of the future and what it might hold, or of what other people think of me and the way that I live my life. I am not afraid of the memories I hold of the past, although for a long while that was a big obstacle in my life which I needed to work out how to overcome.

I am talking about being afraid of my own mental health, and how it might affect my ability to cope with my life.

A number of years ago, during the abusive relationship but before I was aware of how abusive it was, I was lucky enough to pass my driving test. However, due to various circumstances including moving cities less than a week later, and then increasing financial abuse by my ex and other reasons I can't remember, I never drove again. Then once I was recovering from the abuse, I had to battle for a number of years with post-traumatic stress disorder and anxiety and panic attacks. Driving never seemed like a sensible consideration and I was also able to use the excuse that I didn't have the money anyway. Plus I found out that PTSD is a condition that you are supposed to declare to the DVLA (Driver Licensing Agency in the UK), and so I was able to use that as another reason not to try as I hadn't actually told them about it.

But more recently life has caught up with me a bit. Although my family lives in a city with good transport links and we live close to bus routes, it has become increasingly difficult for us to get around with a toddler who would frankly rather be doing something more interesting than catching yet another bus. And going anywhere outside our city is extremely difficult and expensive. Having been in our current flat for the last year and a half, in an area where I have only recently been getting to know people locally (mainly through our church, which is about 20 mins away by bus), it has been a very lonely experience which has made me feel rather isolated. It got me thinking: What if I tried driving again? The main reason I hadn't wanted to try (apart from the cost of buying and running a car) was that I was afraid of freaking out behind the wheel. What I remembered of my driving lessons involved me feeling rather stressed about dealing with other road users and being intimidated by large and fast roads. So earlier this year I contacted the DVLA about my PTSD and they confirmed me fit to drive, so I could no longer use that as an excuse. I also recently finished a course of counselling and feel more confident about not having any more issues with panic or stress.

So in the end I decided that to have a lesson or two with a driving instructor in a dual-controlled car would be worth it just to see if I could cope, and that if it all went horribly wrong, I had at least found that out.

My first lesson was last Friday. It was with some trepidation that I got into the car with the instructor, who took me to a quiet road nearby. I remembered how to adjust the seat to the most comfortable driving position, and where my mirrors should be. And we set off. I had thought we would start off with a small estate or cul-de-sac type area like where my instructor in my home town had started teaching me as a beginner. But this instructor took me on a road which soon became a bit faster, and eventually involved dual carriageways, roundabouts, and an industrial estate with lots of lorries. I actually had to watch my speed a number of times as I had been putting my foot down a bit too much. Apart from stopping at junctions a little sooner than I needed, and doing emergency stops instead of stopping gently, I was amazed at how well I could drive. Not only did I not freak out at the wheel, I enjoyed myself and felt in control of the car pretty much all of the time.

I arrived home energised and excited, far from the exhausted and stressed feeling I was expecting to be feeling. I had overcome a massive hurdle that was, to a great extent, of my own making. I realised that I have spent so many years being afraid of what might happen with my own mental health that I had forgotten to try actually living.

I will be taking more lessons to get myself back into practice before I actually get a car of my own, but this has been such a great encouragement and a big lesson to me about how big my problems can seem until I get up close and see them for what they really are. My mental health has had to get into the back seat so that I can be in the driving seat once more and take control of my life.

And where does my faith fit into all of this? Well, I am aware that there are some schools of thought around mental health issues which can make sufferers feel guilty for having a mental health problem when they are told that they are not trusting God enough and are allowing themselves to be dominated by their problems. This is not Christian thinking, it is a false interpretation of a situation which is clearly not understood by those who are proclaiming those views and who are fortunate enough not to have to deal with the issues themselves. As I see it, God is with me in whatever situation I am in. The things that I have been battling with are due to chemical imbalances or faulty wiring in the brain and have nothing to do with my mind and how I think or feel about anything.

So, to use a driving analogy once more, I am in the driving seat of my life, but God is the sat-nav. He guides me along the best routes for me and tells me what to do and where to go, but I have to choose to follow his directions and listen to him. There's a great verse in Proverbs that says 'In his heart a man plans his course, but the Lord directs his steps.'

Valentine's Day - a few thoughts

I have had variety of different views on Valentine's Day over the years, depending on my circumstances at the time.

When I was single, but didn't want to be, it just seemed like an event created by the greetings card industry, to make couples feel smug, and lonely singletons to feel there was something wrong with them and be reminded that they didn't have anyone to share it with. I remember one particular year when I felt so rubbish about it that I spent it with one of my single female friends eating takeaway pizza and watching 'Die Hard'! It was a surprisingly good evening!

When I was in a relationship (before I met my abuser), it was a chance to feel reassured that the relationship was continuing well and that we could have a nice date and enjoy feeling special.

When I was with my abuser, it was a way for him to remind me that I wasn't perfect. I was under pressure to make it a special occasion, whilst at the same time spending as little as possible (so that he didn't get upset about spending money). I don't remember many years when he made a fuss of me for Valentine's Day, as far as I can remember it was only me making the effort.

Since getting married, it has had less significance as me and my husband have been trying to have more 'dates' anyway. We don't need to reassure one another through the exchange of cards and possibly gifts that we love each other - our wedding day did that very nicely. But it was a lot easier before our daughter was born. We used to go out for meals on quite a regular basis, as we used to live near lots of lovely restaurants.

Since our daughter was born, we have had to make a much bigger effort to spend time together on our own. We haven't been out for many meals without her, and we won't be going out for Valentine's Day this year. But I think it is nice to be reminded to make an extra effort, even though it feels as if the entire day has been invented to make us buy more chocolates and flowers! It is rather like Mother's Day and Father's Day - even though these days are more or less commercial inventions, it is nice to tell our mothers and fathers how much we appreciate them, and to be on the receiving end of that appreciation too.

But I do find the commercialism a bit ridiculous. Yesterday I had an email from a well-known warehouse type store (beginning with A) telling me that I should buy things from their sale for Valentine's Day because 'I deserved it' apparently. How buying cut-price furniture and children's toys could be something I deserved, let alone in that context, is something I am still having trouble getting my head around!

So there you have it. I have gone from thinking the day was the worst one of the year, to thinking it's nice, to thinking it's highlighting my imperfections, to thinking it's a nice reminder to make an extra effort (as long as you ignore the commercialism). But love should be all year around, and so should appreciating one another, whether in a relationship or not.

What I have learned about putting others first without neglecting myself

At the moment my church is doing a series on 'Soul Care', based on the book by John Ortberg. It's really got me thinking and realising that I have not always been very good at looking after myself and giving myself space to be 'me', not just a wife and mother.

It's so easy to get bogged down in the day-to-day activities that need to be done, to put off time alone or time with my husband or friends until an indefinite day that never materialises. It's automatic to deal with what's in front of you first. But I need to learn sometimes to prioritise that time over the other things. I do appreciate what I have now, in spite of the difficulties I sometimes face in trying to deal with the demands of a two-year-old and all that brings.

I remember a time when life was never about me, when I spent much of my time trying to make someone else happy (who could never be satisfied), and trying to suppress all my own wishes or desires if they did not agree or fit in with what was being focussed on. I remember the few small victories I had such as insisting that we have a holiday somewhere nice, paying for it from my own savings and then finding that the trip itself was ruined by the attitudes and sometimes unpredictable angry behaviour of my travelling companion. I also remember when I was hurting, whether emotionally (such as being bereaved twice during that relationship) or physically (when I was told it didn't hurt), and being told that my focus should still not be on myself and my own difficulties, but on the person who was offering me no support at all. In the end I stopped thinking about myself and my own needs as it was easier to get from day to day if I didn't.

My soul suffered a great deal at that time, from being neglected. I forgot who I was and what mattered to me. I forgot that God was with me and loved me. I was angry, and hurt, and alone, even afterwards when I left the abusive relationship and was restored to my loving family . Gradually the lights began to come on again. I started listening to music again, and gradually it began to help me come back to my old self. But making music, that was another matter. I had some injuries to my wrists that made it hard to play the piano or the violin for some time, which was upsetting for me. In fact, there was some concern at first that I may not be able to play again, although fortunately it gradually improved. But singing, that was different. Before the abuse I used to love to sing. It was a talent that I loved to have, and I was much more confident when I sang than at any other time. I found that my soul was lifted by singing, and I enjoyed singing in choirs and all sorts of other music too. But after the abuse, I could not sing. I was too unhappy and it was too emotional for me to try. I didn't want my voice to be heard and I was unable to sing without crying. Gradually I became able to sing again, but it took me years, and I still do not enjoy it as much as I used to. I sometimes hear choral music and it brings a lump to my throat and an aching feeling that I am missing something that used to be a deep part of me, but I am not sure how to make this feeling better.

But looking after my soul now is easier than it was. While my daughter is still young enough to take naps most days, I have been trying to take time to do things I enjoy. I have a loving husband who prays with me and and consciously tries to work with me to build a strong relationship. He understands that I need time on my own or time with friends. He does not make unreasonable demands to be the centre of attention and he understands when I am feeling bad. I feel I can talk to him and he will listen. If our daughter is being demanding, he will take her for a little walk or play with her to give me some space. I am free to figure out what I need to make my soul feel better. That isn't to say that I am not still having days when I struggle or feel like it's all a bit overwhelming. I think that's just par for the course when you have a young child, especially if you stay at home with them full time.

But compared with my old life, this one is much easier. Plus, I know that I have the love of my husband, my daughter, my friends and family, and above all, my God.