I read people talking about how each person has a “story” that’s being written. Maybe we all have a story to tell, I’m not sure. I’m more inclined to believe we are all merely parts of God’s story. Perhaps it’s our individual stories that make the larger story of how He works in and through broken, messed up people.

When I talk about what happened, the abuse, and there’s no response…

It feels like rejection.

Or when I talk about what happened and I am then told what I should or should not do and how I should or should not feel, I feel like a failure. Because I already know I need to trust God more…

It makes me want to hide. I hide well.

Hiding is my default response to the memories, the abuse, to anything that feels threatening or scary.

It’s tempting to return to “normal” things—routine, predictability, busy-ness…anything to prove to myself and everyone else that I’ve moved on.

And, I can fool people. I can play the game. At least for short periods of time.

But inside, it’s a different story. Because inside, parts of me remain hidden, buried deep in the web of memories, feelings, insecurities, fears and disappointments. I feel tired and alone, and even worse, bereft without my twin.

I want to feel hopeful. I want to feel safe.

I want to be loved, accepted and valued despite the struggles…because I’m a person. I want to people to feel they can share their struggles with me instead of viewing me as this damaged, fragile person. Then, maybe then, I can begin to feel safe.

Maybe if people can love the everyday me, they might also be able to love the broken me.

I’ve spent a lifetime isolating myself in pain with unhealthy coping strategies and defense mechanisms. I no longer want to suffer alone. I’d rather risk hurting even more than I already am than living more years trapped by hurtful memories and distorted truths.

Even the past few weeks where the panic attacks, memories, and anxiety have been relentless, I know that I cannot allow myself to hide any longer…even if I get rejected again.

The conversation in my head with each panic attack and/or memory goes something like this:

Hide. You’re in danger. Hide. Protect yourself.

Do not hide.

It hurts too much. Why should you put yourself through this? Wasn’t living through the abuse the first time enough?

Do not hide.

Whatever you do,

Do not hide.

It’s a huge risk, frightening and anxiety-inducing. It’s a new paradigm for me…acknowledging community is necessary for healing…and seeking it.  God did not create us to live alone.


One thought on “Hiding

  1. You know, it’s exceedingly hard to say *anything* that reflects on such wrongs. Cliches are inadequate, and platitudes are frequently disrespectful. Advice is unnecessary and unhelpful. Sometimes all we can really do is let our hearts hurt for you and listen.


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