of many things...

I learned many things of late, most of them unpalatable at best.  I have learned more of lies and more of betrayal and more of just where it is that trust lands you...or rather me.  And I have learned that it is actually possible for a near unbearable burden of shame to grow immeasurably heavier.

One of the hardest lessons is that I have learned why it is that silence bothers me, what it is that I yearn for in speaking that which society deems unspeakable.  The why of it makes sense, but the fact that silence still reigns, for the most part, hurts all the more.

Bettina, oh that blessed gift from God, came down to be with me this past weekend.  She came to sit with me, to let me cry without telling me doing so was manipulative or any similar thing, and to listen to the depths of my hurt.  She actually helped me refine a plan for that which is the desire of my heart, willing to let me be who I am, willing to let me go if that is my choice.  I can be honest with her in my thoughts and feelings and she will still pray and sing with me, still read the Living Word to and with and for me. 

Sunshine came, too, for her regular Sunday night Bed & Breakfast stay before heading off to her volunteer job in the city.  Funny, she and Bettina, though completely different, share the same willingness to let me stand before them as I am and yet allow me fellowship still.  We sang harmony on a hymn, which reminded me how very much I have lost cognitively since doing so used to be a breeze for me and yet what I stand to gain if ever I can grasp the words that flowed from those notes.

I have known many hard things in my life, but I have never known the abject terror that binds me now.  Not the nightmares, not the things about myself that scare me, but an utter, complete inability to even open my front door for fear of what happened last week may come once more.

Here has been the evidence that ever since I started speaking of that which should not be spoken, I have become a bloody sieve, pretty much ruining nearly all the relationships I tried to start during that same time, since mostly I wanted them to help me stop the leaks that were developing one after another in the container that held my past.  No one wants to help do such a thing.  Wanting, desiring, asking was wrong.  I have been taught quite thoroughly just how terribly selfish and wrong it was. 

So, today, as the second day wore on in the silence I knew would ensue, even though I foolishly hoped would not, I resolved to remember the words I once heard on "Firefly" in regard to great pain...This is only a moment in time.  Step aside and let it pass.

Two days now, I have managed to keep my mouth closed, save with Bettina.  But even there the leakage of things hurtful has been brief.  My goal is to put it all back in the drawer and let this pass by.  Be a grown-up for once and take my medicine, endure what I deserve, for opening my mouth in the first place.

The person who is supposed to help me has told me that healing lies in opening my heart to God.  Growing, deepening my faith in Him.  And, for good measure, consider what Buddhism offers since religion as a whole is good no matter the source.  Every fiber of my being is screaming at me that such direction is just the same damn futile path I experienced in the Protestant Church trying to escape the burden and failure of my shame.  But I do not have anyone other than this person to really help me lock up the past once more.  It is my fervent hope I can do so without thinking about faith at all.  To me, that seems the best course of action.  After all, are we not supposed to forget what lies behind us?

I will admit I dared ask a question of an Internet pastor today, fairly sure I will not garner a response, but asked nonetheless:  What does it mean to fear God?  I am pretty sure it does not mean what I think, what I feel. 

Funny, in my terror, I keep running across the admonition to fear God.


I am yours, Lord.  Save me.