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the way she feels

8 Feb

As we are getting ready to move and packing we are also going through everything I own. EVERYTHING. The other night I found some old papers that I had written in High School that I held onto and i found this one. It is called “The Way She Feels.”. It is a story I had to write. The feelings are all mine…but I didn’t live in San Franscisco. That part was made up so teachers didn’t know it was about me. ;)

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Dark night, dark blood carrying with it a river of rage that had brought her to this point. And the horror of it suddenly shone with the clarity of her face in the mirror as she reached down for the razor blade. She always kept a constant supply of loose blades for when the rage took over. The cutting helps relieve the tension, she says to herself in a reassuring voice. I’m not addicted, I don’t have to do it, I just do.

She lives on the street in San Franscisco, it gets cold at night. She doesn’t know where her home is, she doesn’t have a home. Every passing day she is more mad at herself for where he life is, or isn’t in her case. She holds so much rage and pain in her sixteen year old being. People say singing or writing is their therapy but it is really their “release” from a “free” world where everything is dictated. She sees drugs, alcohol and citing as her way out of a life she dreams of leaving everyday.

The blade is bone chilling as she drags it across her stomach as she does each time. She stops and sits in silence for a minute or so, and waits. She is waiting for the pride inside of her to die and the courage to rage so she can have the guts to push hard enough to break the skin. You would think after two years of cutting it would e no problem, not for her, it’s more like a ritual. In this ritual she is waiting for the pride to die so she can humble herself before her “god” an refuge of cutting. She places cutting before anything, before life, love and herself. The pain that is carried with cutting, pain on the outside is no match for the pain that she feels inside, the void of something she has never felt for herself.

She never cuts deep enough to do more than hurt the skin, she is too afraid. She doesn’t know that cutting the outside is killing her on the inside. So many people care that she doesn’t know about. Since she left home when she was thirteen she has thought parents have no care in the world. They only think about themselves.

As she presses the blade a surge of pain jets through her body giving her a “supernatural” feeling, if she even believes in anything spiritual. It feels so good. How could other people not get how good it feels? The blood trickles down her stomach and pools into her bellybutton. It’s like she has left her body. Like she is sitting on the stairs, watching herself. She knows that it hurts but not knowing what else to do. Cutting is her way out of a boring life into a life less ordinary. A life not too many sixteen year olds lead. Cutting to the world is wrong, it’s morbid and people that do it deserve to be locked up and need only counseling.

But to her cutting is all she has to survive the nothingness her life is.

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As I read this I was taken back to when I was 16. And when all of those feelings and emotions were true to me. I was a little girl trying so hard to get caught. To be found out so I wouldn’t have to live in silence.

It makes me wonder how many other people are out there just wanting their addictions to be found out so the silence can be broken.

Satisfied/Content

21 Jan

Today, as i sit at Starbucks. Just off of a 5 hour shift i feel so content.

I dont know that i have felt this full on the inside in a very long time. it is like a beautiful collision of the music in my ears, the smells and people around me but i am totally satisfied in life at this point in time.

I have a best friend that i get to live with and spend the rest of my life with. i have an incredible manager and fellow partners alongside me at Starbucks. I have a dog that loves me no matter if i had a good or bad day…he is happy to see me. my best friend and i are about to embark on the biggest journey of our lives together…and we are together.

It took a huge step to resign from my other job….one that was hard…but one that i dont think i will ever regret.

You may think i am “just serving coffee” or “working in food service” but for me it makes me happy. my legs on the other hand arent as “happy.”

i am satisfied and content. right now.

Are you? if not what would it take?

lasts

4 Jan

So those of you who have moved…when can the “lasts” start??

The other day i was driving and started to cry because i knew that i wouldnt drive over “that spot” once we moved.  It was the spot that the night before our wedding and the day of crazy tornadoes and weather we decided to move the location of our wedding to the same place as our reception…earlier in the day we realized that we had our last Stevens family Christmas…where we will be at Chad’s parents house in Mobile…the last one with the whole family.

as the days grow closer to the time we pack up and leave Birmingham and follow our dreams (48 days) i have begun to see life in lasts.

but i cant help but think it may be a little too early….what do you think?

we are all right

3 Jan

A while ago i was having a conversation with someone about my story and they too were sharing theirs with me…but they prefaced their story with “my story was not nearly as bad and hard as yours.” as always i say something like “we each have our own journey and each person’s is different.” And honestly i didnt think a second more about it. We moved on and talked about the amazing things that God has brought both of us through and the grace that He has kindly lavished on us. We finished our coffee’s, left and carried on with our separate lives.

As my week continued the phrase “my story was not nearly as bad and hard as yours” seemed to be a theme. I started reading a new book called “The Kids are All Right” by Amanda, Diana, Dan and Liz Welch.

It is their memoir, all giving an account of growing up under the same roof but having very different memories and stories from the same times. But the title says it all, the kids are all right. No matter what they felt or remembered…even if it was different than their siblings they are all right. It was as if God was trying to get my attention. To speak something to my heart.

During Life Group a couple weeks ago we were talking about some situations happening in my life and the lives of those of us in the group and it came up again. “my situation is not as bad as __________. So i guess it could be worse….”

and in that moment i think the lightbulb came on for me. I heard what God was trying to say to me all week.

I always hear people comparing their stories….almost one upping eachother to see who has or had it worse. But in either case dont we all have it the worst?

In our circumstances. In our stories. In our pasts. in our present situations. It is our story. and we are right.

and for us in that time or this time it is the worst….for us.

statements like “my story is not nearly as bad or hard as yours.” is robbing yourself of the hardships and trials that you had to endure to get you to today. Yes, mine may be different than yours…but harder?

to you it is hard….and it should stay that way…

remember as you share your story and listen to others that we are all right.  we all have different levels that we can endure…we all have different lives and stories.

But we are all right.

My Favourite Quote

30 Dec

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“People, even more than things, have to be restored, renewed, revived, reclaimed, and redeemed; never throw out anyone.” – Audrey Hepburn

Remember…in this holiday season, with your family, your friends and especially if you are in retail…that people grace.

Dont write anyone off.

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