H and I went to see my Dad tonight. He decided to share some past experiences with us. There were all sorts of stories but the one he stressed was me at 18 months old, running away from my parents, even climbing over a fence to get away. Dad's point was to show that deep inside me, deeper than comprehension, that if I stay in any one place, I will die.
As I ponder this, rather than wondering if it's true, I wonder how it has affected me. Dad says it's a fear of abandonment that started when I was born. Within a day of my birth, I was shipped off to my parents. I had no time for bonding with my birth mom and once I got with them, there was no ability on my Mom's part to bond and my Dad was always working. I was passed around from person to person in his little parish, never really knowing the security of having parents or even consistent relationships in my life. In turn I trust no one.
I know that part is true. I have never trusted anyone fully in my life. Not even myself. Usually people with abandonment issues rely fully on themselves. However because of my upbringing, I was made to doubt even myself. I am unable at this time to fully believe in anyone. Not even God.
What a sad, sad reality. It breaks my heart. But it explains a lot. I cannot trust marriage, I cannot trust friendship, I cannot trust common sense or researched decisions. I cannot believe a doctor, I cannot believe a lawyer. I cannot believe myself. Even if I'd had the opportunity, I would have sabotaged it. Not on purpose but unwittingly. The jagged pieces of my broken heart severing ties, making excuses, finding fault, passing judgement.
I don't want to live like this anymore. I cannot. I run from one extreme to another, lost and confused. Wanting to fit in and find my place but so distraught by the things of my past that I cannot be where I belong. It's no wonder I have been married 3 times. It's no wonder I have attended and worshipped at 6 different churches in my adult life. It's no wonder I don't even know who I am. And it's no one's fault. I can't blame my Moms. One was doing what she thought was right. The other was sick in her own ways. I am merely a product of being conceived.
Now what? Is there hope? Is there a way to get back to a place that goes beyond my existence to be healed? Is there a way God can reach beyond my comprehension, my memories, my feelings? Was I born with a broken heart? Will it ever be whole?
I don't know. But I know I have to try. I want to be whole. I want to trust. I want my marriage to work. I want a church home. I want the home I live in to be my house for the rest of my natural life. I want my friends to be in my life forever. I want to grow old and feel safe where I'm at, with whom I'm with and not want or need more. I don't want to be afraid anymore...
