ugly poem from the heart

• here's a little poem i wrote while suffering on the ward. 
• 
  
• 
  the days are dark and weary
  when did my life become so dreary 
  it’s always struggle 
  it truly hard to be a muggle
  up and down through the day
  i have so much I need to say
  starting with i’m not okay
  i’m going down the long hard way
  is there some sort of out?
  truly that’s all i think about..
  getting low, low & lower
  somebody grab the lucky clover 
  because if I can’t get out
  i’m gonna sit here and pout 
  but please Lord take my pain
  it’s rapidly effecting my brain 
  too many thoughts inside 
  even though i keep my bible by my bedside 
  seriously is today the end? 
  i think not, because of my kind friend
  but to be honest i’ve given up 
  it’s the lower half of the cup
  as death is calling my name
  the real voice seems to stay the same 
  thank you God for saving me
  even though I’ve ruined it with pee
  actually death is inevitable 
  Can barely sit still at my table 
  i’m ready to die 
  don’t even need to say goodbye 
  hello there, there child
  your life is just a little wild

suffering.

am i allowed to even say this? 

but am i really a christian right now? 

i have unbelief. 

i have doubt. 

i am unable to comprehend the joy that is coming... (okay, the bible does say that we won't be able to anyways... so that's a given). 

what do i know?

i know grief.

i know suffering.

& i know that Jesus Christ is my Lord and Saviour.

but i have unbelief and doubt in my heart. 

i know the answer: to such despair, this anguish and these questions is that  we live in a fallen world. 

but still, 

i have legitimate questions. 

why can't i ever see my mom again? 

i want to spend eternity with my grandmother, 

and if that means not going to heaven…. am i okay with that?

is that even allowed to be asked? 

am i allowed to ponder such things? 

seems blasphemous. 

but as life seems to roll to a complete stop these are the times that these questions need to be asked. 

so you're going to ask…

is this some beautiful disaster? 

some rebirth as a phoenix?

some spiritual low that skyrockets a faith of steel?

or very simply… is this rock bottom?

yes.

this is very simply put: rock bottom. 

never have i ever been more suicidal than i have been now. 

never been more sure of the decision. 

preparations have been prepared, 

my ducks are in a row. a fucked up row… but a row none the less. 

i am finished. 

as soon as i typed that i heard Jesus say, “it is finished.”

okay, so, i am going to go through this crazy spiritual revival?

no.

no. 

not now. 

i don’t have the capacity for this. 

nor do i have the time for this. 

but alas, quite contrary to what the journal cover said today, about quiet whispers from God, it’s a: loud shout from Heaven. 

i was brought to the book of james. 

ha ha ha… 

not funny God. 

i already know this passage well.

i am very cynical towards this passage right now. 

‘count it all joy……’ 

JOY. 

no. 

no. 

not ever. 

okay, the next part.  

‘when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow.’

yes. 

something i can comprehend. 

i understand that… 

that makes complete sense. 

sign me up any day, for a tad bit of suffering in order to build my character to become more like God’s. 

‘perfect and complete, needing nothing.”

right? 

me? 

perfect?

…my list of flaws is longer than santa’s naughty list.

complete? 

…i’m shattered. 

i’ve been broken down and beaten down so many times that i don’t even know where most of my pieces are.

needing nothing?

my trauma has made me become completely dependant on someone else for any little thing that i may require. 

so let’s back that up… 

‘perfect & complete, needing nothing’

troubles of many kinds. 

i can tell you that me being left to my troubles of many kinds as you can see is not bringing me near my perfect and complete self… and its left me needing everything. 

so God.

i’m just wondering why james? 

i have a problem with pretty much everything You just had me read. 

if this is the ending why bring me to suffering. 

the one thing that i know. 

a bit presumptuous to say, but i have not just suffered, i would like to say i have suffered more than my fair share. (which is why i know that i have done something to deserve this… sorry … another belief, another post).

i am in such suffering i want to end my life…

ah-haa! 

He’s meeting me where i am at. 

as my Jesus, my Saviour suffered on this earth, 

He suffered as i have. 

i can confidently say that there is no one on this earth that can understand my suffering as much as Him. 

my suffering pails in comparison, yet His compassion exudes every pour of His body. 

that’s what i had lost sight of…

‘in this world you will have trouble, but take heart I have overcome the world’

i hear it again. 

‘it is finished.’

i know what it means now. 

my suffering… not even mine. 

that was dealt for on the cross and it is finished. 

THAT’s why i can count it all joy. 

THAT’s what perfect & complete look like. 

THAT’s needing nothing.

i don’t need to take ownership over ‘my’ suffering. 

it is dealt with, 

it is out in the open, 

it was exposed on the cross, 

it was paid for in full. 

and that’s how God, 

Master of the universe 

gets His little princess through another painful day. 

Woodstone Graduation Speech

I am a changed person. 

Where I was once weak, now I am strong. 

Where there were once blemishes, they now have healed. 

Where I lacked vision, I have gained sight of my destiny. 

I am so grateful for these shifts in my thinking. 

I once again think that I can move mountains. 

I dream of a beautiful future. 

My days before coming to Woodstone were filled with depression and gloom. 

I was, very simply put, living to die. 

My relationship with food was non existent. 

My relationship towards myself was harsh and detrimental. 

I hated myself and what had happened to me. 

I was slowly dying... 

and I didn’t care. 

But I arrived at Woodstone ready. 

Ready to conquer new mountains. 

Ready to work as hard as I could. 

I readied my heart for change. 

Prepared it for knowledge to enter it. 

Prepared it to open up and be exposed. 

To be cleaned up and filled with goodness. 

I showed up. 

And I am proud of my time here. 

I set my sights to work as hard as I possibly could. 

And that’s exactly what I did. 

I showed up every single day. 

Worked as hard as I could. 

And I have changed. 

I have reacquainted myself with me. 

Reminded myself of my interests and likes. 

Found for myself once again reasons to live. 

I remembered that I do indeed have purpose. 

That I have value. 

That I mean something to people. 

That my life has the capacity to change lives. 

I am slowly, 

Very slowly becoming proud of the person I am. 

and who I am becoming. 

I am grateful for Woodstone. 

For guiding me towards goals and achievements: that I didn’t even know that I had before coming here. 

For counselling me in directions that once again set my heart ablaze. 

For helping me navigate through the dark places, so that light could shine through. 

For manoeuvring me around the tough places to give me insight to how my eating disorder began. 

I am truly just grateful for my time here. 

Thank you all once again for all that you do and have done for me. 

What is my happiest memory?

I remember it so vividly.
My emotions were still soaring from the hours before.
I had just spent my time with some of the most remarkable people I think I will ever meet.
I was at the Mother Teresa home.
A massive building catered to people suffering with every type of illness and need out there.
Ethiopia, Africa.
What a place to be.
The building where we had just held orphan babies, played with children of AIDS, prayed with people dying of TB.
The people who worked there were incredible.
Loving the unloveable of Africa.
All those who society deemed unworthy of being; were accepted at this place.
Where people who needed love and acceptance discovered the unconditional love of the Father and could bathe in it.
The disabled who are openly ridiculed found a place of refuge.
Found a place where they could be helped instead of being seen as worthless.
What a magical place.
So my emotional state entering our next location was perfect.
I was ready.
I was ready to take on the world.
Our next stop was a feeding program.
My first thought was: this is a disappointment.
Our last location was so magical and now this.
We pulled up.
We did our routine that we did at every single location we went to.
A couple dances, some speaking and a skit or two.
I was on autopilot.
My heart wasn't really there.
But then something caught my eye.
One of the leaders was sitting with a boy out in the crowd.
What caught my eye was the smile on this little boy's face.
What was going on?
After a quick assessment of the situation I realized that this little boy was blind.
Jeff was allowing this little boy to touch his face.
I connected the two and realized that this was this little boy's method of communication.
His face lit up.
He was perplexed.
You could tell that he hadn't felt a face of this nature before.
I realized that the hair on Jeff's head wasn't as course as African hair.
Or the same texture in the slightest.
This little boy was experiencing for the first time, this new sensation.
I couldn't ever forget the face of this little boy.
How elated he was.
Like he was seeing Disneyland for the first time.
Jeff then called his daughter over.
Her long silky hair went down past her navel.
I knew.
I didn't think it was possible.
But I saw the little boys face light up even more.
What a strange thing he was feeling.
He felt her face.
And then his hand followed her hair down.
The long silky bleach blonde hair was nothing that he had felt before.
You could see the look of astonishment on his face.
Of curiosity.
Of confusion.
He felt her hair and didn't know how to respond.
It was an amazing moment.
One that I will never forget.
My eyes focused outward.
To the most beautiful thing I ever saw. 
A mother weeping. 
Sobbing. 
She was gazing down at her precious little boy. 
She was overwhelmed with emotion. 
Her little boy is someone who wasn't considered a human in their culture. 
Just a cast away. 
Nobody worth acknowledging. 
The last person who should have been noticed in the room. 
But here we were.
Giving him the attention that he deserved. 
Acknowledging the fax of how he sees with his hands. 
Through a translator we were told: 
That nobody had given her son a second look. 
Let alone pay any attention to him.
The fact that we had taken the time to allow him to feel special. 
It touched her heart. 
This is one of the happiest moments of my life. 
The realization that a difference really could be made in this world. 
That it didn't take big gestures to change a life. 
It took noticing someone. 
Giving them your time. 
Not anything materialistic. 
This was the happiest day of my life. 
Because I saw so much joy in the suffering. 
It gave me hope. 
Such hope that cannot be taken away. 
It was the happiest moment because I knew I had found my life's calling. 
I needed to help change lives. 
I needed to change the world. 

It was pouring rain.

It was pouring rain.
The rain splashed my face.
I felt it trickle down my back. 
It was pouring rain. 
As we walked out: 
My stomach was in knots. 
My heart so heavy; it was falling out of my chest. 
My head was fuzzy. 
My mind so full, I couldn't bear think another thought. 
But we were out there for a purpose. 
We had a mission. 
The mission was crumpled in my hands: 
The heaviness in my heart,
Written down hurriedly. 
Written as the thoughts came. 
The weight of my hurts
Laid exposed on that paper. 
Crumpled in my hands were my clouded thoughts. 
It was pouring rain. 
She held the lighter out. 
I was very skeptical. 
How was this going to make my thoughts go away? 
This wasn't an endeavour that was going to heal my heart. 
We lit the corner. 
I watched the flames consume the paper. 
I saw the words melt away. 
It was pouring rain. 
We re-lit the paper. 
It was in that moment that something clicked. 
I saw it. 
"It made me ugly."
The words ablaze. 
What power did they have over me? 
None. 
I wasn't ugly.
It was it who made my heart heavy. 
But it didn't make me ugly. 
I stood there. 
It was pouring rain. 
I looked up. 
Stared into the Heavens. 
Looked up at God and heard Him say: 
"It can't make you ugly, 
Nikita you are free." 
I stood in the pouring rain.
The rain splashed my face. 
I felt it trickle down my back. 
But it couldn't hurt me anymore. 
I was free. 
The pouring rain cleansed me. 
Those words burnt. 
& with them the legacy 
It had in that aspect of my life. 
It couldn't make me ugly anymore. 
Those hurts didn't make me ugly. 
They made me strong. 
It was today. 
In the pouring rain. 
That I realized this. 

My Miracle Day..

I awoke with a sensation in my body that I had lost all recollection of. I barely even remember having this feeling.
I feel alive.
Had I not been living?
What was this facade of a life I've been living?
Oh well, this morning I feel completely alive.
I have hope in my heart and my head feels free.
I am awake and the potential of the day gives me an incredible surge of energy.
The thoughts and feelings that haunt me consistently have vanished.
My minds capabilities now seem limitless.
My thoughts are clear and focused.
I got out of bed and hurried to get ready: not out of any obligation or expectation from others or myself; but simply so that I could start living.
As I got ready for the day, I gazed into the mirror and realized that the tired, vacant eyes that were for so long my defining quality vanished.
Alternatively all l I saw was pure determination and eagerness to keep going in them.
As I headed downstairs another incredible sensation in my body was realized: I was pain free.
The agony that had become an unwanted constant companion finally departed.
I was elated!
I jumped down the stairs with the widest grin on my face.
The chains of chronic pain had finally been released.
I was physically, emotionally and mentally clear.
I feel unstoppable and invincible.
I came downstairs and realized all that I had yet to notice.
Details left out: like what I had been looking at before had been blurred and it was if I finally put glasses on and could see everything more clearly.
I suddenly felt like I had Sherlock Homes' insight and intuition for all that was going on around me.
Again, I thought to myself, "how did I consider what I was doing yesterday living?"
It was if I had been blind and gained sighed for the first time.
Deaf and could now hear this incredible world around me.
Paralized and able to now move around freely.
Like I was mute but finally had a voice; and not only a voice, but one with the authority of a president.
My life was once again my life.
I was able to see beauty around me.
Feel compassion, love and empathy for others.
The unconditional love of the Father reigned in my heart and I was actually able to accept it.
Without fearing being present in my life my imagination ran wild. 
The dreams that I had for myself resurfaced. 
My passions ignited
& the fire in my soul was ablaze. 
Nothing today would be able to detour me. 
I thought once again of my hearts burden to the world. 
To help those who couldn't help themselves. 
I realized my drive and essential need to learn and gain more and more knowledge and understanding needed to be satisfied. 
I felt like me again. 
Someone who wanted to do new things, no matter the risk or danger. 
No matter the cost. 
No matter what anyone else would say. 
The me who craved adventure and would do anything necessary to accomplish that. 
To travel and gain new experiences. 
Dive into new cultures. 
Learn new languages and ask questions. 
The curiosity of why people live the way they do or why we have such diverse cultures. 
I wanted to live with the villagers once again. 
Be at the front of the line feeding the hungry and clothing the poor. 
Giving relief to those who needed it so bad. 
Hold the orphaned babies. 
Comfort those in hospices. 
Counsel and mentor other girls and people who's lives have been taken over my mental illness. 
I know what's different this morning. 
I have purpose. 
I had the realization that I have something to give to the world. 
I am needed. 
I could be an asset. 
I have the ability to make a difference.
I have the capability to change the world. 
This is the day that my life changed for the better. 
The day I realized that I am not what was done to me, I am what I choose to become. 

Not your average love story.

 Dearest ED.

I love you. You consume me. You are in my every thought and every breath I breathe you are right there reminding me of your presence. You offer up a fragrance in which it annihilates all rational thinking and makes me putty in your hands; ready to do your every beck and call.

Fulfillment, relief and understanding you give me in abundance. As are you abounding in comfort.

ED you were there when no one else understood. Friends left and family stopped caring, but you remained faithful to me. Like a loyal friend you’ve been there for me always, never once turning your back. You never ask questions, never expect too much, and never went around talking bad about me.  

ED you’ve boosted my self-confidence. You’ve helped me gain acceptance with my peers and you’ve aided me making peace with my family.

ED you give me the silent nod of approval. You’re my invisible blanket of comfort in all of life’s toughest situations.

The gratification that I receive in listening to exactly what you say makes me feel accomplished and fulfilled in a sea full of days of emptiness, discontentment and death. You offer me plenty in return for me only following a few instructions.

You’ve been reliable and constant in a world that is unsteady and changing, so I can cling to something steadfast.

XOXO,

Anonymous