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I Will Fight For Love

Love one another and you will be happy. It is as simple and as difficult as that.

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I didn’t love who I saw in the mirror, I didn’t know who she was or how she had gotten to this point.

She was a stranger; and yet she was me.

But now, instead of looking in the mirror and seeing failure and not recognizing who I am, I see hope and value who I am.

365 days ago I started putting tick marks on my mirror to mark my days of sobriety.

Today I celebrate one year of sobriety.

I celebrate one year of growth.

I celebrate the relationships I have formed and the community I have been blessed with.

I celebrate each one of you who has walked this journey with me, inside and outside of the program.

I celebrate the freedom I have been given through my renewed relationship with God and myself.

I am still a work in progress, but there is one thing I know for sure:

I was created for a purpose.

The vast majority of the purpose is to love and be loved by those around me.

To value people.

To show them they are important.

To show them they have a story that is meant to be lived out, not to be given up on.

To love my family.

To love my friends.

To love strangers I meet in the Starbucks line.

To simply be myself and to love who I am the way I was created.

 

Peace

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white knight syndrome

A fixer is what it is most often called. It’s not always a good thing. It’s not always necessary.

It is sometimes insulting and sometimes hurtful.

There is not always a damsel that needs saving. There is not always a problem that needs fixing.

Sometimes what is needed is space.

I don’t have to be able to save the day. I don’t have to be able to solve the problems that I see, because what I see is not always the problem.

Sometimes I can be the problem. Sometimes I can be selfish. Sometimes I can be blinded by the overwhelming desire to be the solution, that I make a problem worse instead of better. Sometimes instead of helping all I do is hurt.

That is last thing I want.

I want to show that I can be helpful, not hurtful.

A blessing, not a burden.

A listener, not a fixer.

A fighter, not a pusher.

A shoulder to cry on, not a hand that is forcing its way in.

A pair of arms to hold you, not to suffocate you.

I want to be these things.

I want to be what you need.

I want to be present.

I want you to know I care about it all;

the good and the bad.

That is it.

I don’t need to be the White Knight riding in for the rescue. You don’t need rescuing.

You are strong. You are independent. You are courageous. You are passionate. You are tenacious.

You are, in a word, inspiring.

 

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help and hope

On March 28, 2015 I went to my first meeting. I knew I had a problem, but I had no idea what to do about it. Acting on the advice of my counselor I walked into my first Celebrate Recovery meeting at a local church. I was welcomed by the sweetest people and felt the warmth in the atmosphere with my first step through the door. That night I signed up to start the 12-Step program. With that choice, my road to recovery began.

A few months into my recovery I had gone through withdraw, a bout of depression, and a relapse. I still stuck with the program. The following May a book came out. It was called If You Feel Too Much by Jamie Tworkowski.

To Write Love on Her Arms was something I had heard about in when I got to college. It was all the rage when they made their tour through the nation called “Heavy and Light”. My friend had introduced me to it and I liked what they had to say. I was going through a depressing time and I liked the idea of there being hope at the end of my tunnel.

When I saw If You Feel Too Much on the shelves of Barnes and Nobel Jamie’s name looked familiar, but I couldn’t remember why. As soon as I opened up the book I knew why. He is the founder of To Write Love. I picked up the book, bought it, and read the whole thing in one night.

He understood the hardship of dealing with depression. He knew how hard it was to confront a parent you had resented. He knew what it was like to go through an excruciating heartbreak. He understood why Valentines Day sucks sometimes. Through all of my recovery I had not picked up a book I could relate to more. He knew what it was like to feel too much.

The next day I woke up and spent the entire day on the To Write Love on Her Arms website. I ordered t-shirts. I read blogs. I tried to figure out how I could be a part of this movement.

I knew I wasn’t alone in my recovery and in my struggles, but the stories I saw and the poetry I read put faces to the struggle. I related to them. I felt their pain, and I was encouraged by their hope.

To say this movement helped me would not even come close to doing it justice. I don’t have the words to thank them enough. I have found a community where I feel my most true self. I may have never met them face-to-face, but we have a common link. We understand that we are broken. We understand we need help. Most importantly we use our brokenness to help others.

That is why I am supporting this movement.This is why I champion this movement. I ask that you check them out. I ask that you help me, help others.

April 16, 2015 is the day I will be exactly 11 months sober.  It also happens to be the day I am running in their annual 5K and I need your help! Any donation is helping others find the hope and help we all need. All you have to do is follow the link posted below! If you can’t donate, help spread the word!

With all of the brokenness in the world, we all need a little hope. Hope is real in this movement. I found it when I thought there was none. Help someone else find it too.

Peace

To Learn more about TWLOHA: https://twloha.com/learn/

Fundraising Page: https://www.classy.org/fundraise?fcid=623830

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when i…

When I told you I loved you I was not picking out rings.

When I told you I loved you I was not looking for an invitation to become domestic.

When I told you I loved you I was not expecting you to say it back.

 

When I told you I loved you I wanted you to know that you were special.

When I told you I loved you I wanted you to see that you are worthy of being loved.

When I told you I loved you I saw a smile crease the corners of your mouth.

When I told you I loved you I wanted you to know that I cared for you.

When I told you I loved you I wanted you to know I was there for you.

When I told you I loved you I wanted you to know that there was nothing I wouldn’t do for you within my power.

When I told you I loved you I wanted you to feel safe in my arms.

 

When I told you I loved you I never thought I would loose you.

When I told you I loved you I never thought I would be saying it for the last time.

When I told you I loved you I never imagined you driving away.

 

When I told you I loved you, I meant it.

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love

Yesterday I go my first tattoo and I could not be more stoked.

After long deliberation and having friends write it different ways for me, I picked the writting I liked the most and just bit the bullet.

Some people may say that getting “Love” tattooed on your arm is cliché or so “basic”. Well here is why I chose to write love on my arm.

Love is more than an emotion. It is more than telling someone you love them before leaving or hanging up the phone.

Love is and action and a choice.

Love is the foundation of everything that I believe in.

I have lived the majority of my 23 years believing that I was not worthy of love and that I had no love to offer. I could only offer a sarcastic comment in order to cover up my insecurities. I grew up not understanding what it really meant to love. My father always provided for the family financially and otherwise, but was emotionally distant. My mom tried to over-compensate by being a people pleaser and make us all happy, but that isn’t the definition of love either.

With this upbringing it was very easy to develop a hardened heart, and that is exactly what happened.  Through my teenage years I rebelled like most kids and stopped talking to my parents and just gave the cool kid head nod saying “What’s up” when I walked through the door on my way to my room. With that rebellion also came a bout of depression that led to thoughts of suicide and ultimately a sex addiction. I came out of that depression by the grace of God and those around me and am still working on the addiction part, but taking it one day at a time in my recovery.

For the first time in my life, at the age of 18 I realized what it was to be loved.

I had a friend I thought I was going to loose. I thought, like so many time before, I had messed up beyond repair, and they would just walk out on me. But she didn’t.

It clicked. People had been loving me all along, I just didn’t see it because I was too busy trying to shut them out. Once I started letting people into my story, my whole world changed. I started being honest with myself and a handful of people around me. Slowly but surely I started letting people into my life. I let them love me and show me they loved me and I did my best to do so in return.

Over the past five years I have made it my mission to show love in any possible way to those around me. Simply because if there is one thing I have learned it is this:

I was created for a purpose. The vast majority of that purpose is to love and be loved by those around me.

To value people.

To show them they are important.

To show them they have a story that is meant to be lived out.

To live my life authentically so that I can be living proof to others that it does get better.

To love my family.

To love my friends.

To love strangers I meet in the Starbucks line.

To simply be myself and love who I am.

Don’t get me wrong, I have stumbled a lot along the way. I am still stumbling today. I am a much healthier me though. I am recovering day by day. The biggest change in me is that I choose to live with love in my heart and in my actions. I still throw in the occasional sarcastic comment here and there, but it’s not all I do now. I choose to live love and speak love.

This is why love is written on my arm.

Side Note: I grew up in Germany and hold that beautiful place near to my heart, which is why the language I chose is German.

Peace

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everything (pt.2)

clean

but it’s never that easy

my body craves what it misses

constantly tense

constantly gripped with fear

fear of slipping

fear of not being strong enough

fear of no control

everyday is a battle

i long for the night when i lay down my head and my brain can stop

stop thinking of temptation

stop thinking of the past

stop my imagination from creating things i know won’t last

but then there are moments

these simple moments

this tiny glimpse of truth

brief

but that’s all i need

the truth

the truth that set me free

one cross that’s all it took

one Man who took it all

one love that stands tall

for the broken

for the oppressed

for the eighty year old

and for the child who is fatherless

He stopped the lies that say

i’m not good enough

i can do this on my own

i don’t need God

i can fight this alone

but the shame consumes me still

until

i remember His last breath

“It Is Finished”

and with that He paid my debt

so how can i believe the lies

that i’m not good enough

that i have to be afraid to live

i wasn’t created to fear life

but to embrace the hope

that one day i might

tear down the walls and choose to fight

fight with the Man who arrested my death

to bring the hope to those who are just like me

the scarred, the weary, the broken and ashamed

to bring the good news

that Jesus changed…

Everything.

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everything (pt. 1)

darkness surrounds me

i’m in a hole

i can’t see the light, i can’t feel the warmth

there’s nothing but shadows consuming my thoughts

when can i get it next?

when will it be enough?

i look down, barely able to see my hands shaking

will it ever be enough?

i sit. my body aches. my mind is blank.

when did it get this bad?

when did i get this bad?

i sit. my heart races. my mind runs from thoughts i have not faced.

how did i get here?

how could i be so selfish?

look at me now:

no family

no friends

no life

nothing but shadows that lurk, waiting for me to try and fight

those are my only friends

those are my only thoughts

that is what consumes me

i look up and cry out in a kind of fury that only shadows can light

why me?

why now?

where did you go?

why did you leave me alone?

i’m shaking

cold

empty

and angry

so angry

fire runs through my body and i jump up

arms out wide, i scream

my veins raised, my blood boiling in rage

my throat tightens as the last bit of breath leaves me

i collapse

in tears

tears that have been there for years but have never reached the surface

i’m done

done fighting

done trying to be what i’m not

done lying

done waiting to get caught.

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grab a bat…

It has been a rough two weeks.

You know that feeling when you have so much tension, anger, and just intensity built up inside that you have to get it out? The way I handle this is by going to the batting cage. That is my happy place.

You stand there in anticipation of the ball coming and when it shoots out straight at you the tension builds up even more for a second and then the metal bat hits that ball and it is like that tension flies with it. The anger and anxiety flies toward the back net and it is the ultimate relief. This may sound crazy, but its the way I deal with it, and it’s where I have been for many days the past few weeks.

I haven’t written because I didn’t know what to write. My thoughts wouldn’t form in ways that would make sense. Now I am sitting on a plane headed for a family wedding and am forced to turn off the world, sit, and reflect.

The past two weeks have come with hurts, confusion, and anger.

Hurts from those who I thought would not judge no matter what I told them.

Confusion about who I am and who I want to be outside of my addiction.

Anger…

Anger…

At God mostly. I think at one point or another in our lives we ask the question, “Why Me?”. I ask this because I have trouble understanding why certain things in my life play out the way they do.

Why did I turn out the way I did?

Why is there no one in my life who truly understands?

Why is this my struggle?

Why am I the one who became the addict?

I struggle with what the plan is. If I have this great future that is limitless, like friends and family tell me, why do I have things that I think are going to hold me back?

I struggle with seeing the light sometimes. I have people in my life who are constantly encouraging me and saying they “see something in me”. They tell me I have the potential to change things and to make a difference. I don’t say this to elevate myself because honestly when they say those things I am thinking:

Why can’t I see that?

Why can’t I see what is ahead and what I have to offer?

Who is going to listen to a 23 year old addict?

So with these thoughts and not seeing the future comes the anger. Anger and self-doubt, because I don’t see how my story is going to make a difference. I don’t see how I can do any good when I am this broken…

But that’s it. I’m broken. Everyone is broken. With my brokenness there is a story. Someone else in this world is living with the pain, confusion, and depression that I was and have been living through for the past five years. The difference is that I have found some semblance of hope. I have found that I am worth something. I may be broken, but there is no such thing as a person who is not.

This is why we have community. This is why I have those people in my life who encourage me in everything I do, even on my darkest days. I turn to them in times of need and just let my feeling come out instead of bottling them up or acting out in my addiction like I used to. That’s what I have to do. I have had to find healthy ways to get my feelings out. I have to talk to people, whether that be my sponsor, my support group,  my best friend, my therapist, or even my mom sometimes. I have to have an outlet because regardless of if you are just starting or if you have been clean for 10 years, we all still struggle. We all still get anxious and angry.

So next time you do, grab a helmet and join me. Grab a set of clubs and go to the driving range. Grab some gloves and take it out on a punching bag. But also pick up your phone and tell someone how you are really feeling. Don’t bear the burden alone, we were created to help one another and love one another.

You are made for great things just like I am.

Believe it.

 

 

Peace

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what if…?

We are often told, “It’s not what is on the outside that counts, but what’s on the inside”.

This is 100% true. Do NOT get me wrong.

A phrase I try to live by is, “What makes you vulnerable, makes you beautiful.”

But what do you do when you don’t know how they will react when you do divulge what you have on the inside. What do you do when they don’t like what is on the inside?

You think:

What if they won’t accept me?

What if they won’t like what I have to say?

What if they don’t understand?

What if they turn away from me?

What if…

These are the thoughts that go through my head. These are the thoughts that keep me awake at night. These are the thoughts that make me think I will never be accepted.

The truthful answers to most of these questions, at least in my life, are not great.

As a Christian and growing up in a very traditional Southern Baptist environment, there are preconceived notions about how people should act. Sexual immorality is at the top of the no-no list, which puts me at the top of the no-no list. Now everyone has their fair share of mistakes too, but this sexual sin is one of those that is not handled well.

It makes me feel like Hester Prynne in The Scarlet Letter. Like I have a big red A on my shirt when I’m walking around.

There are still many people in my life who do not know I am an addict. I went through a time recently where I was terrified of what people would think of me when they found out.

The simple truth is that they won’t understand. I have to be okay with that.

I have to be okay with being me in all my glorious mistakes.

I have to be okay with what they may not like about me and love them with all my heart despite that.

More importantly I have to love myself.

The problem with all of those questions up there is that they say “What if they…?”. When it comes to recovery and finding who I am, I have to be selfish in order to work on myself. I have to love me. I have to understand me. I have to accept me.

Just because someone around you right now may not accept you, that does not mean you are worthless. You and I are going to touch so many lives through the struggles we have gone through and we will use our brokenness to help other through theirs.

 

 

Peace

What makes you vulnerable, makes you beautiful.

Brené Brown

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