You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled by men.”
Matt. 5:13 NIV
There came a point where the desire to wake up in the morning was no longer there. The simplest of functions like getting showered, dressed, and brushing teeth seemed to require a Herculean effort.
Joy? What is that. Laughter was but a distant memory. Medications for depression have done nothing for me. Individual therapy has done nothing either. I stopped going weeks ago. She began to annoy me. It has gotten to the point where I do not want to speak with friends or family. Isolation is the order of the day.
Material things do not bring me any pleasure. Life has become mere existing. Awake, all I want to do is sleep. If I’m not asleep I just want to avoid people. People that used to bring me smiles. My kids. Around them I become irritable. The horrifying realization it is more than just depression, I have reached an utter state of spiritual bankruptcy.
How did I arrive here? I believe it took decades. It began with the incest, physical and verbal abuse I suffered in childhood that went on undetected for years.
Followed by more domestic violence as an adult. Cheatings and beatings. Leaving me with staples in my head, getting strangled, punched in the mouth, cheated on with prostitutes, threesomes, Craigslist hookups. Not to mention the far worse invisible scars of degrading, humiliating, and hurtful words. Then the violent alcoholic rages. Eventually I raged back. All while trying to raise kids. Unable to leave financially my kids suffered untold damage. My guilt and shame to see them damaged became unbearable. Suicide often looks like an option. As I feel to blame for not being able to free them.
I am not sure when I turned my back on my faith. I used to have such a close relationship with Christ. First I stopped going to church. One child was too rambunctious and parishioners began giving those mean glances as if to say “parent your child.” In fact, two elderly women did say it. I never went back after that. Yet no one knew the hell we were living. The bruises, the screaming….
Then I stopped praying. I distanced myself from God without realizing it. I believe I spent so much time receiving secular therapeutic help for the kids and I for the trauma, that it began to replace the Holy remedy that was much more needed.
This year both my parents died. They lived 1500 miles apart and had been divorced since I was 2. They died within 3 months of each other. I fell even deeper down the rabbit hole. Deeper into darkness. Deeper into despair. Losing hope. Suicide looked more inviting.
I cant quote Scripture but I know it says somewhere that all one needs is a mustard seed of faith.
I think that’s about all I have left in me is a speck. Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” -John 14:6.
That’s all I yearn for is to feel His spirit again. I feel so very empty. I intuitively know only He can make me whole. There are some wounds so deep that only He can heal. And that is me, a deeply wounded person.
I have spent far too much time lashing out in anger, festering in resentment, wallowing in despair, sadness, brooding about the years that have been swallowed up by perpetrators abuse and the unfairness of it all.
I cannot change any of it. All this negativity is killing me and those dear to me.
I’m never going to get help from Christ Jesus unless I can admit I cannot do it myself. That I cannot carry this burden myself. I can’t solve this myself. I lost humility long ago and I’m worn thin from trying to go this alone.
I don’t have any answers but I know who does and I’m going to Him. I realized, I’m not going to hear from God unless I seek the Lord out.
He will meet me where I am at in all my brokenness. He’s going to show me what to do. He will lead me and guide me. All I have to do is BELIEVE that He is going to help me and then I need to be patient and wait for Him.
Spiritual Bankruptcy is my call to action, a time to re-build myself and put me back together in a better way than I was before. I was once told that adversity brings opportunity. This is my time to grab the football and run it as far up the field as I can. I don’t know how far I’ll get towards the end zone, but I will die trying to get back to Jesus.