the struggle for survival.

When I decided to start this blog, I did it because I've been called to write. The Holy Spirit has literally been calling me to share my story and I've been putting it off because I've been struggling to find a way to do so. Today's post isn't for the gritty details of my nightmarish experience; today's post is dedicated to my story of survival.

Leaving my abuser was the most terrifying and hellacious thing I've ever done, and it is also the most dangerous thing a victim can do. It shows power and strength and nothing pisses an abuser off more than their victim gaining the strength to leave them. It makes them vulnerable and vulnerability makes them very angry and in turn makes them even more dangerous and unpredictable.

But I left. I don't know how the hell I did it, but I did.

Then the spiral began. If it wasn't the abuse that had been breaking me down to practically nothing, it was the aftermath of my decision to survive. I spent nights in a home that I shared with my abuser, hating my life a thousand times more than I did when I was sleeping next to him. If walls could talk, mine were SCREAMING at me. Taunting me, laughing at me, making my life more of a hell than he did. I was alone; nobody knew what I was going through. My family had no idea of what I had been enduring, my co-workers and supervisors had no idea- it was just me and the man who broke my spirit more than he broke my body.

Going through all of that alone and not having any sort of landing pad to fall back on led to the darkest pit of depression I have ever experienced (or will ever experience) in my 28 years on this earth. There were times when I considered going back to him just so I wouldn't have to be alone. That's the most sickening thought: that I would endure the abuse if I had to just so I wouldn't be alone.

Then one day, I decided I was done. That is the day that I decided I wanted to die. It was just another horrible day in my life and I was over it. So, on my lunch break I went home with a friend in my unit, and I went upstairs and locked myself in my bathroom and crawled into my bathtub with a straight edge razor and tried to slit my wrists. When I say "tried to," I literally mean that I tried, over and over again, to slit my wrists open but nothing was happening. A straight edge razor was no match for God's plan for my life apparently, because here I am laying in my bathtub in my cammies and boots, slashing at my wrists and my arms for ANY sort of release of the pain and NOTHING IS HAPPENING. I'm screaming and I'm crying and then my door gets kicked in by my Gunny and I see my friend and my lieutenant standing in the hallway, completely terrified at what they are witnessing. I looked up at them and in my descent to rock bottom, I start laughing. Hysterically laughing/crying because I'm the idiot who failed at killing herself.

I didn't fail though. I'm living, breathing proof that Jesus Christ is more powerful than any demon that had been taunting me. That day in my bathtub, Christ proved that He had SO MUCH MORE in store for me. That was the day I decided I really wanted to survive. Probably because in the aftermath of all that, my Gunny called my sister as we were on our way to the hospital and oh Lord did she have words for me. I will NEVER in my entire life forget what she said to me. I'm sitting here writing this post and crying because her words have been seared into my memory. You guys- I tried to remove myself from the lives of my niece and my nephews; from the lives of my mother and my father and my stepfather and my amazing sister and brothers and all of the people who loved me. That is a thought that remains with me to this very day. Have I forgiven myself for my selfishness? I have. It's still kind of hard to not look back and absolutely hate myself for that.

Here I am, five and a half years later, and the road that I have traveled since that day has not been easy. I went through extensive therapy with an amazing therapist whom I credit for helping me maintain my sanity through my survival process. When I got out of the Marine Corps seven months after that day, I moved to Oceanside and got involved with an amazing church where my love for the Holy Spirit grew to a sacred obsession (shameless Jake Hamilton plug). Survival would not have been possible without God.

At that church in Oceanside is where I took some of the biggest steps in my journey to where I am at in my life right now. It is where I revealed to my brother what had happened, where I shared my testimony in front of my sister for the first time (that phone call I mentioned earlier had not revealed my abuse), and it is where I gained the strength to forgive my abuser for what he had done. That was almost as hard as leaving him, but forgiveness is necessary for healing. I didn't have to contact him in order to forgive him; forgiving him in my heart and in my soul satisfied the requirement set forth by the Spirit.

I am living proof that survival is possible. Are there days where I struggle? You betcha. Days like today where I pull some of my darkest moments from my past to the surface are hard. Thank God I have an amazing support system these days. I actually called my best friend and broke down a little bit because of how hard this post has been to write. She is so encouraging and strong and supportive of me doing this, and she understands why I have to do this blog series this month. She even offered to be a guest blogger this month, so keep an eye out for that post as well.

My story is the reason why I live my life by Jeremiah 29:11. God's plan for my life didn't include me taking my life at the age of 22.

Until next time, love and blessings.

Ray Rice and THAT Video.

You HAD to know that I was going to discuss this at least at some point in time. The truth is, I actually had some friends who know my past message me and ask me if I was going to touch on the situation when that video was released to the public. I had actually started a blog post about it, then put it on the back burner because I didn't feel like it was going to do any good. Well, now that it is Domestic Violence Awareness month, and now that a few other NFLers have been thrust into the spotlight because of domestic violence, I guess it just feels like a good time to start talking about it.

When I woke up on that Monday morning, my Facebook newsfeed was just hammered with post after post of this video- from TMZ to HLN to USA Today and even my own friends. Given the fact that I live in Maryland, obviously I'm in the heart of Ravens territory, and seeing as how I have hundreds of friends that are here in Maryland, naturally the discussion amongst them was rampant.

Upon viewing the video footage of "elevatorgate," I immediately sympathized with Ray Rice's then-fiancee (who is now his wife). I mean, come on...that was a gnarly hit she took. Now I'm going to be honest here and say that I played into the gender inequality that is plaguing society these days; I instantly demonized Ray Rice and stated my support in his suspension from the NFL and the end of his contract with the Baltimore Ravens. What my one-sided survivor's brain failed to notice in that video the first time I watched it, though, was that Janay Rice slapped her then-fiance (who is now her husband) in the face before even stepping foot on that elevator. Inside that elevator, Janay Rice made violent physical contact with Ray's body more than once before Ray delivered what is now the punch heard 'round the nation.

You guys:

RAY RICE IS JUST AS MUCH A VICTIM AS JANAY RICE.

Here comes society chiming in and crying, "HOW CAN HE BE A VICTIM??" "He's bigger and stronger than her though!" "He's a MAN. Men can't be victims...."

WRONG! WRONG! WRONG! While I do believe that Ray Rice could have handled the situation a bit differently than punching her in the face, I do whole heartedly believe that Ray Rice was victimized in that elevator. I have said it before and I will say it again:

DOMESTIC VIOLENCE DOES NOT DISCRIMINATE.

ANYONE can be a victim of domestic violence.

Since the incident, I have somewhat re-wired my brain and the thought that when a man violates a woman, he's immediately a horrible person who shouldn't be allowed to reproduce. I was a feminist man-hater but now that I've educated myself and opened my eyes to what a victim is, I know that the lynching of Ray Rice in the media for his actions was uncalled for. How can we as a society turn a blind eye when a man is abused? Our one track mind is set on men not being victims. This mindset needs to change. 

This will conclude today's blog post. I will be touching on more statistics of male victims in a later blog post, I just wanted to get this one out of the way because I've really been wracking my brain to find a way to discuss this issue in a manner where I felt it would open others' eyes and maybe make them start thinking about the victimization of men. 

Until next time, love and blessings. 

Domestic Violence Awareness Month

October 1st marks the beginning of Domestic Violence Awareness month. As a survivor of the horror of being violated by the one person who was supposed to love me and care for me and protect me, this is very dear to my heart. In order to honor this month and all of the victims and the survivors, the ones who made it out alive, and sadly the ones who didn't, I will not only be sharing my story and my struggles of surviving the abuse and the aftermath, but I will also be sharing statistics and resources that can be essential in surviving domestic violence, in order to educate those who may not be fully aware of the turmoil of domestic violence.

As I sit here and think about my experience, as I often do, I think of how lucky I am to be alive. If it wasn't the abuse that almost killed me, it was what I experienced after I got out. Sometimes its hard to talk about, but I know that sharing my story not only aids in continued healing of my soul and the emotional scars that still remain, but it could also help other victims gain the strength and courage that is necessary to escape.

Domestic violence does not discriminate; gender, social status, etc does not play a role in domestic violence. Abuse is not just physical, but emotional, mental, verbal, and sexual as well. I personally believe that emotional abuse is almost just as bad as physical abuse, as emotional scars linger on far longer than a physical manifestation of the violence. Bruises on my face and my body have long since faded, but the scars that remain on my heart and my emotional well-being are still there. They are not visible to the outside world; they are my scars to bear, and they are visible to only me. Oh believe me, there are not as many as there used to be, as I have been healing for a long time, but they still remain. It took me a very long time to transition from a victim mindset to a survivor mindset. I decided that I could no longer let the abuse define who I was; I couldn't let it rule my life anymore. I escaped a horrible situation only by the grace of God.

So, this is just the first of 31 posts. If you are reading this, please continue to read my daily posts throughout the month. You don't have to, but I would appreciate it. My main hope is that maybe something I write strikes a nerve in someone, who may be in a situation that they are drowning in or they may know someone who doesn't realize what is happening, and can in turn help that individual. Also, if you have any questions, comments, etc- please reach out to me. I am always available.

Love and blessings, until next time.

where were you when the world stopped turning

What can I say about today, that hasn't been said countless times in the past 13 years? I woke up this morning and sort of just laid in bed and let the flurry of thoughts and emotions just resound inside my head. There are moments in my life where I can remember everything in vivid detail; today is one of those moments.

Thirteen years ago, I was a sophomore in high school. I woke up and got ready for school, just as I did on any other day. I walked out the end of the driveway to wait for my school bus, just as I did on any other day. I got on the bus and there was a girl talking about how a plane crashed in New York. Okay, not like any other day. It didn't phase me though, as I plugged in my headphones and zoned out on the way to school, just as I did on any other day.

When we got to school, and I walked through the hallways, I realized that this plane crash was an entirely different situation than I initially thought. People were full on freaking out; crying hysterically, hugging each other. I was sitting in the choir room, looking around at the somber faces of my fellow choir members, as our director began talking about the events that were transpiring across the country. Planes crashing, buildings burning and collapsing, thousands of people dying as police and fire rescue crews did everything they could to save innocent souls. Only when I was sitting in my English class and my teacher turned on the TV and I saw the burning towers did I realize that this plane crash was so much more than just a plane crash.

This was a calculated attack on our country.

As a bratty little 15 year old in high school, I didn't really know how to process that information. It didn't really throw me for a loop or anything, but as someone who absorbs the emotions and feelings of those around me, the pain that I was bearing witness to broke my heart and absolutely floored me.

I've been a lot of places and I've seen a lot of things in the past 13 years. I went from being a bratty high schooler who didn't really understand the magnitude of a situation, to a woman who has served her beloved country in the United States Marine Corps and has lost many friends in the wars that followed the September 11th terrorist attacks. I wasn't as emotionally driven back in 2001 as I am now, and I guess that is the difference between 9/11 for me as a civilian, and 9/11 for me as a Marine. Don't get me wrong- I am in no way saying that this day is harder for me as it is for anyone else; everyone has their own emotions on a day like today. I guess what I'm saying is that as a result of my time in the Marines, I've become a lot more emotionally aware (and somewhat attached) to the events of 9/11 and the emotions that surround such a profound day.

Let us never forget the souls that were lost on this day.

When I am desperate.....HE SHOWS UP!

If you have read ANY of my previous blog posts, then you already know, in a sense, what is coming next. I've talked about this A LOT since starting this blog, but I just can't help it.

When the Holy Spirit moved me to Maryland, oh my gosh was I scared. I had no idea what was in store for me; I did not know WHY I was being moved to Maryland, just that I had to TRUST. The past six months have not been easy. They've been overwhelming, stressful, depressing, lonely, exciting, joyous months. I've made HUNDREDS of friends and when I say HUNDREDS I literally mean that. If you were to go and look on my Facebook profile, I have 137 mutual friends with ONE person. That is HUNDREDS of friends that I have made here in Maryland in the past six months. Nothing has been easy here; I've been struggling financially, emotionally, physically, and mentally. That's not to say that I'm not full of love and laughter everyday- my nieces and nephews make everyday more interesting than the last, and laughing with my sister as we share secretive glances and glasses of wine are blessings that I cannot thank God enough for.

When I am REALLY desperate though...oh man, does God show up!!! Which, in turn, just strengthens my faith in Him and encourages me to keep on trusting in HIS plan for my life. Lately, I've been feeling like He was going to show up and give me a break. I've been feeling like all my struggles would soon prove to be little bumps in the road. I've been feeling like He is about to reward me for staying strong and not breaking down (I've been on the verge more than a few times) and for continuing to TRUST Him; and MAN OH MAN did He just set things in motion!

I have my own plan for things, like getting back in school and getting on my own two feet and gaining independence and living an amazing life. Then there's God's plan for my life where I have NO IDEA what He's got in store for me except that it's all laid out in Jeremiah 29:11 and I have to keep on trusting in that plan, no matter how frustrating it can be at times. No matter what, I know that God has my back, and when His plan comes full circle.....it's gonna be amazing.

trusting in HIS plan.

I'm not going to lie to you. One of the most rewarding, yet FRUSTRATING, things in my life is trusting in God's plan. Honestly, I feel like my life has been more struggle than smooth sailing, but when God's promises are fulfilled, there's nothing more heartwarming and comforting.

When the Holy Spirit called me to Maryland and I trusted in that and packed up and flew 3,000 miles across the country following His commands, I had no idea what I was in for. What I do know is that promises would be kept, visions would be brought to life, and prophetic words from the Spirit would come full circle. Katie asking me to move over here and help her just set the Spirit in motion, and the rest was up to me.

Right now, I feel like my life is just one big struggle. One question that I get a lot is "if God loves us so much, why would He want to see us struggle?" Our struggles in life help make our faith in God stronger when we make it through those struggles.

James 1:2-4

Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing. 

I may be struggling in life right now, but I know that God's plan is going to come full circle for me. There are so many positive things in store for me, that when they come to fruition, it will just make the struggle worth it. Yeah, it sucks. There are times when I feel like I'm being defeated and I get discouraged and sometimes I feel like NOTHING is going to work out for me. That's normal. It's normal to get angry at God when our struggles feel like they are too much for us to handle. I get that better than anyone. The beauty in all of this is that when we feel like we can't handle it, God sheds some light on the struggle and wraps us up in His arms and tells us it's all gonna be okay. Jake Hamilton reference level: WINNING. 

All the good things in my life are so close that I can almost taste them, and boy oh boy do they taste so sweet! I just have to hold on through the struggle and hang on to God's promises and TRUST TRUST TRUST in HIS plan!!! 

Until next time, loves. Be blessed. 

i want to die. (DON'T FREAK OUT).

Hold up! Don't go getting all worried or anything about my post title! There's meaning behind it, and if you decide to read on, I'll explain what I mean.

Today in church, I spent a lot of time reflecting on where I've been, the things that I have done, where I want to go and what I want to do. Where is my life going? What direction do I want to take? I spent a lot of time paying attention to Pastor Mark, too, so don't go thinking that I was off in lala land during service. :)

It's not uncommon for Pastor Mark to pray numerous times during a service. It's also not uncommon for us to take the hands of those around us and openly pray for one another. Today in church, he called for those that felt like they needed prayer to step out into the aisle, and had those that were closest to those people pray for them. Katie and I went over to a young man and laid hands on him, and as soon as I touched him I felt the air leave my lungs and tears began streaming down my face. I do not know this young man's story, nor do I know his struggle, but what I do know is that I flat out had a physical manifestation of the Holy Spirit and I just prayed and prayed for this man. He will continue to be in my prayers throughout this week.

ANYWAYS.

It all boils down to this: I have not been leading a Christ-driven life. No shocker there. I've been so in and out of my relationship with the Holy Spirit and with Jesus Christ, but I don't want to do that anymore. I CAN'T DO THAT ANYMORE.

I want to die. 

I want to be dead to worldly things,

and live for my Savior who is NOT of this world. 

2 Corinthians 7:1 (ESV) says: "Since we have these promises, beloved, let us cleanse ourselves from every defilement of body and spirit, bringing holiness to completion in the fear of God."

It's time for me to change the way I've been living, because I know that God is not pleased with what I have been doing. The comforting thing though, is that He knows my heart and knows my desire to please Him by living my life according to His will and His plans. 

What does this all mean, exactly? Well, it means that I'm going to be shifting my focus from here on out. If you notice that I'm not making it out to as many social events, this is why. It's time for me to start growing in a more productive manner- getting back into school, getting my own mode of transportation, getting a job, and getting my own place. I'm 28 years old and I'm not getting any younger. It's time for me to grow up and be a big kid. 

Oh, another thing about church this morning. We sang "Oceans" by Hillsong United and I totally drowned in the Spirit's love. That song just removes me from my physical body and takes me to a place where I'm lost in the Holy Spirit and if you could get one taste of that, you'd be addicted. Kind of like I am. :) 

Until next time, loves. <3