Last week something happened that I never thought would happen, nor ever thought I would wish to happen. I was engaging in my most comfortable “coping mechanism” because it quickly numbs the tears and softens the blows that sting to my core. But last week a strange thing happened: the tears became more intense and the blows hurt even deeper.

I instantly became angry and started yelling at my body, “You worked all the other past times, why can’t you work this time?” and “Come on now, just feel numb already, what you are waiting for?”  At that moment my safety blanket instantly slipped out from under me, and I felt the self-hate running rapidly through my veins. I quickly became very guarded against AFH staff and the other residents in the house whenever they were anywhere near me.  But to the staff this loss of my safety blanket meant something much different.  It meant me seeing that I could no longer continue to “fix” myself with this bandaid. I need to “fix” myself by taking off the bandaids and treating what’s underneath. At that moment my hope that “it” would go away with adding just one more bandaid became shattered; a hope that never really existed in the first place.

Once I was able to see what the staff saw I was both sad and happy.  Sad because I realized I could no longer continue to deny hurt, a part of life that is going to be there whether you fight against it or with it. And since my “coping mechanism” no longer works, there is no use in continuing to use it when the it only adds to the hurt. But ironically I am happy for the same reason.

I am tired of trying to appear okay, and I don’t have the excuse of “just one more time” because now I know that next time no longer exists.  I want to live, not just exist in an empty shell, by experiencing and embracing, not fighting, the emotions that come with the good times and the rough times. Yet I am terrified of leaving behind the known, and jumping into the unknown. In reality every time I used my “coping mechanism” just one more time I was deepening that fear and sabotaging myself and my family by emotionally cutting them out of my life.  Yes there are still days, honestly most days, that I’m terrified of accepting the fact that hurt and joy are a part of life that I’m built to feel. I continue to fight this fact because I’m terrified of exposing the “real Kelly” even to myself.

By now you might be wondering why I used quotation marks around the words coping mechanism.  The answer is simple, my coping mechanism of self-injury, cutting, isn’t a coping mechanism that’s needed anymore to survive the past, present and future tears and blows. A Friend’s House has given me the gifts of time and unconditional love to learn how to create a voice that’s expressed with dignity and firmly stood behind. Baby steps, baby steps.

-Kelly

Music is moonlight in the gloomy of the night (Jean Paul Richter)

Music, once admitted to the soul, becomes a sort of spirit, and never dies (Edward George Bulwer Lytton)

Dance is the hidden language of the soul (Martha Graham: 1894-1991)

Music can alter my mind into a state of deep relaxation by allowing my mind to slowly drift away from the current world of pain and sorrow into a world that’s replaced with stillness and silence. Music can also inspire the words in my head to flow onto a page, or an image in my mind, to become a visual picture in my sketchbook. Music can create and encourage laughter; whether it’s that silent laugh in your head or a burst of laughter out loud when nobody is looking. Music can create memories, memories that remind you of dark times of pain, or light times of reminiscence. On the days where the worries seem distant I turn to the song where I can tap my fingers to the beat, while on the other days where the worries are near I turn to the song that wraps it’s arms around me as it gently evokes a feeling of peace and a temporary thought that “everything will be ok.”

As a child, and still with that mind of a child, a yearning dream of mine is imagining myself, and actually being, the singer on stage who’s able to close her eyes and clench her fist as she pours out her emotions, dreams, and secrets with no hesitation or fear of showing her real self. The second dream consists of me, once again, being that one and only, vulnerable dancer on stage who is able to let go and allow herself to feel the emotions as her body moves from a curled ball of sadness and hurt, into a standing figure of determination and poise. I want to feel that freedom of expression and release of emotions so badly, yet every time I try I become afraid and timid, even in the room alone with the door shut. And I walk away from allowing myself to break and feel, really feel.

Given this desire, yet accompanied with fear, one of my major goals at AFH is to be able to create a dance, or movements of expression, that shows that transformation from the curled ball on day one to the hope of a standing figure on graduation day. I know this sounds like a far off goal since I cannot even dance in a room by myself with the door shut, but for many years I imagined being able to check this one off the list. I’ve tried to imagine how life would feel with this item checked. Would it be a life with inner peace and comfort that nobody could take away? Would it be a life where I no longer turn to self destruction to “feel” then numb away the painful, or even uncomfortable pleasant, emotions?  I don’t know these answers but if I continue to let my fear win I will never know these two answers, so I might as well try to give myself the chance to explore the questions and possibly find the answers that have always seemed so distant, yet near….

-Kelly

At the start of each year, many of us spend time creating resolutions. I found myself, once again, thinking about all the great things I could do or positive changes I could make in the coming year. At the top of my list is to exercise regularly.

I don’t enjoy exercising, but I know it’s important to integrate into my life. As I thought about how to make this change, I started to get discouraged. I don’t want to spend money to join a gym. I already feel like my evenings are full, so how can I add 30-60 minutes of exercise? And I really don’t like mornings, so the last thing I want to do is get up earlier to exercise. (continue reading…)

Dear Friends,

I never thought that I would ever write an entire blog entry for the sole purpose of promoting a book.  I love to read, but I am also a somewhat picky reader.  Unlike my broad taste in music, my acceptance of literary works is much more selective.  I will not read a book if it doesn’t capture my interest in the first paragraph.  I will not read a book if I find it to be excessively detailed (I don’t need to know that she was drinking off-brand diet cola out of a blue glass containing a crack in the lip unless it is pertinent to the story), unapologetically morally offensive, unrealistic, or nonsensical.  Because of this, I seldom read fiction.  I think autobiographies are more captivating and more urgent.  There is something about the reality contained therein that serves to convince me of the worth of the story.  I find autobiographies compelling, endearing, and admirable for the simple fact that the author has made himself vulnerable to the masses—and once it is on paper and in someone else’s hands, there is no turning back.  I am impressed, I suppose, by the courage it takes to put one’s secrets out there for the world to inspect.  And I am inspired by the remarkable tales of overcoming some of life’s most difficult challenges against all odds.  Rarely do I come across a work of fiction that moves me in the same way. (continue reading…)

Dear Friends,

Things have been getting busy around here, and from what I hear they will only get busier as we get closer to Christmas.  Last weekend, we were blessed to be able to go to a really neat pottery painting studio in Fort Wayne.  Most of us were first-timers, or first-time-in-a-LONG-timers.  We all picked very different pieces, which I guess is a good reflection of how different we all are from each other.  It was a great experience, and I can’t wait to see the finished products in a few days. (continue reading…)

Dear Friends,

I apologize for the fact that I haven’t been writing every week like I normally do.  I haven’t been particularly busy, but when I sat down to write, the words just weren’t really there.  A few weeks ago, I had a sort of realization that I needed to be quieter—in conversation, in my own head, and especially in prayer, the most important conversation of my life.  So maybe that is part of why I felt like I didn’t have a lot to say. (continue reading…)

Dear Friends,

This past Sunday at church, a couple spoke about a ministry they are a part of.  The name of it was similar to a separate pro-life ministry I am familiar with, and at lunch that day, I brought up the pro-life ministry and what it is about.  It is active during the summer, when young adults from all over the country walk from the west coast to Washington, DC.  The groups stop at different towns and speak in churches about the pro-life cause.  I mentioned how a couple of my friends who participated in this ministry three summers ago faced a lot of angry responses from people who saw them walking down the road wearing white t-shirts bearing just seven letters:  PRO LIFE. (continue reading…)

Dear Friends,

Last weekend, we got to go up to Fort Wayne to Glenbrook Mall to do some shopping.  I browsed Barnes & Noble for a while, and then ended up just walking around. I was getting really thirsty, so I set off looking for the little convenience store I had purchased a drink from last time we were there. I couldn’t find it, so I ended up going to one of the directories to look for the listing. To my dismay, the store was no longer there. I guess they put a little Asian place in where it used to be. I started to walk away, when the advertisement on the opposite side of the directory caught my eye. (continue reading…)

Dear Friends,

Today I want to feature Elizabeth, a good friend and AFH resident that will be graduating this evening. I asked her if she would be willing to be interviewed for the blog, and she graciously agreed. Below are my questions, with her responses in bold.

Q:  You’re graduating today. Looking back, were there ever times you thought you might not? If so, what got you through those times?

Looking back at my time at AFH, there were some times when I thought I was going to give up and go home. Surprisingly, more in months seven through nine. During this time span, I was doing fairly well with my issues and it was becoming harder and harder to comply with the rules.  Not being able to go on walks for as long as I wanted, and not being allowed to have scissors in my room seemed stupid to me.  I knew I wasn’t going to do anything to harm myself and I was frustrated with having to comply with all the rules.  Coming to AFH and having to not only give up all my unhealthy coping skills, but almost all of my control, is one of the hardest things I’ve had to do.  One can only last so long before they start to go crazy having to show respect to staff at all times and such. (continue reading…)