The Adventures of Darcey & Watson

Disclaimer The following post shares a bit about one of the darkest moments in my recent life. I will be sharing some journal entries from my stay in the hospital this past May 2020 due to deep depression and PTSD symptoms. This in no way reflects how I am currently feeling, but my hope is that what I went through may help someone else who is or has gone through the same/similar feelings. This post may have some triggers, so I wanted to prepare you for the content.

May 18, 2020 Entry 1: Emptiness. A void of emotion. A place where worth and value ends. Where all that exists is nothingness. No positive feelings. No pain or despair. The void ceases to swirl in its violent way. Just an empty shell of human flesh. Still capable of reflecting emotions back to those around, but all they are is mere shadows of the original. Clever is this emptiness as it invades the deepest parts. Clever due to its ability to play pretend. So masterful in the art that others often fail to see beyond. I am the emptiness.

Entry 2: The void. On closer examination, my opinion has altered. Yes, I still believe it is like a swirling vortex of negative emotions, but also more. Think of the word itself. V-O-I-D. Like voiding a check. It is a verb as well. It acts by deflecting, rejecting, and nullifying. But in the sense of the void I have been referring to, what is it deflecting, rejecting, and nullifying? Light. Positive emotions, good thoughts. Worth. The list goes on.

Entry 3: Hello void. Hello nothingness. It's me. The person who you engulfed and are holding hostage. What is the ransom? How much longer am I to be consumed? Why, when I am starting to finally feel a smidgen of relief do you wrap your ugly, dark, cruel, sharp, and painful hands around my heart, mind, throat, stomach, and eyes? What have I done to deserve this? Will you ever let me go? Will I ever be free? Why is it that since you have been around, you make me want to run, hide, and cry all at once? I hate you. But you are almost all I know... GO AWAY!

Entry 4 (Sorry for the swear word): Why do the words of others hurt me so bad? Why does it matter what they think? Is it because of my past? Maybe... Is it because I am a words of affirmation person? Maybe? Or is it because I try so fucking hard to love others and see their perspective on things that when they judge and criticize me on stupid, insignificant stuff that I break down. The mask I was holding up for their benefit shatters and I try to escape into the thing I know. The all consuming void and nothingness that has been my constant companion for the better part of my life.

Entry 5: Miss L said to write something less saddening than I have been writing. I am not sure where to start... I talked with my aunt S today. It was good to hear her voice, though I don't remember much of what she said. Next was Darcey, he shared with me that the girls are still playing piano and Harley and Maevis apparently miss me. Finally, I had a conversation with my mom. I miss her hugs and the hours we spend talking about everything under the sun. All of these people love me and are praying for me to receive the help I need while I'm here. Here's hoping for a good sleep tonight...

Entry 6: Words I find amusing: Fiddlesticks, Baffled, Bamboozle, Befuddle, Flabbergasted

On this day, I was feeling pretty alright, but then someone criticized something I did and I started to spiral again. It was at that moment that I realized that I was not at a point where I should leave the hospital yet. Throughout the next few days, I came up with the goal of being able to face my negative emotions and not let them control me to the point of spiraling down into the void. Mindfulness techniques really helped in achieving this goal. That is not to say that I do not still have moments of feeling down, but I can bounce back easier.

Disclaimer The following post shares a bit about one of the darkest moments in my recent life. I will be sharing some journal entries from my stay in the hospital this past May 2020 due to deep depression and PTSD symptoms. This in no way reflects how I am currently feeling, but my hope is that what I went through may help someone else who is or has gone through the same/similar feelings. This post may have some triggers, so I wanted to prepare you for the content.

May 17, 2020 Entry 1: Sometimes I wish I was Batman. Or a superhero from the comics. Someone with a tragic past, who has survived depression and dark emotions, funneling those deep feelings into protecting others and fighting for justice. Is there hope for me to find something to fight for? Is there someone I can protect? Can the void be of use? What hope is there for the void that is me?

I was feeling a little better on this day. I was trying to find what I could live for. It felt like I was on the cusp of becoming either a hero or villain of my own story. One thing that heroes and villains have in common is usually a tragic past or misunderstanding that propels them in one of two directions. Though my thoughts are sometimes consuming, I always feel that I can protect others and live for them.

Disclaimer The following post shares a bit about one of the darkest moments in my recent life. I will be sharing some journal entries from my stay in the hospital this past May 2020 due to deep depression and PTSD symptoms. This in no way reflects how I am currently feeling, but my hope is that what I went through may help someone else who is or has gone through the same/similar feelings. This post may have some triggers, so I wanted to prepare you for the content.

This day starts with me being unable to sleep due to a million thoughts running through my mind. So I woke up and wrote a bunch of questions down. The first entry for this day contains only the philosophical questions, not the other 50 random ones.

May 16, 2020 Entry 1: What is the point of existing? Why am I worth keeping around? Why do I only see darkness in my future? Am I honestly not a burden? To anyone? Why am I useless? Why do people change their interactions with me based off of what they discover about my past and not based on how I've behaved presently? Why am I scared to go home?

Entry 2: What is a "good" morning? What labels a morning as "good"? I feel that it is more perspective than the morning itself being "good". For example, I may look at these "art" projects I have created with crayon and watercolor and want to throw them away, yet I keep them... why? Because others have put worth in them. If others said it was trash, I would not keep them. It is much the same with me. I see no worth in myself. I, myself, am not worth it. (whatever "it" is...). But others say I am. IT is hard to believe them, but maybe they are right? Should I try to see this "worth" they see? I certainly see their worth. Or should I just give up? I'm tired of trying. To me, hearing I have worth has as much weight as hearing someone say, "the sky is falling."

Entry 3: What is the void? Some say it is a place of nothingness. Personally, I believe it is a plethora of emotions, swirling chaotically together in an endless barrage of unwanted, yet all-consuming feeling. As more emotions get pulled into this mess, the person at the center of the void ceases to understand their life outside the void. But, like a black hole, destroying all that come too near, the person becomes consumed. Do they still exist? Or is their identity now this pool of emotions? Are they a person, or are they the void?

This sheds a little light on what I mean when I mention the "void" in my blog posts. Later on in my stay at the hospital, I learn how to name the emotions I am feeling and that helped tremendously. To be able to label the emotions and work through them as they pertained to me. If you are interested in naming your emotions, please contact me and I will send you the papers I received.

Disclaimer The following post shares a bit about one of the darkest moments in my recent life. I will be sharing some journal entries from my stay in the hospital this past May 2020 due to deep depression and PTSD symptoms. This in no way reflects how I am currently feeling, but my hope is that what I went through may help someone else who is or has gone through the same/similar feelings. This post may have some triggers, so I wanted to prepare you for the content.

May 15, 2020 Entry 1: Stardate 05152020: I have achieved something. Today I finished two books, walked a long time (albeit in circles in the day room), made a map of my room, talked with doctors and nurses, and feel more comfortable asking for things. Like this pencil I am writing with (I was writing with crayon prior) I quite like it here, even if I feel like a burden to the nurses and doctors. Even if I feel I am being babied. I feel safe. The weight of feeling I need to protect myself from...myself is mostly lifted. If I start thinking down that path, I simply leave the door open or go out in the dayroom. End Log

As is pretty evident, I was feeling better on this day. Not 100%, but it is nice to have relief, even if it is fleeting. Those who have depression, or struggle with their mental health, have up days and down days. The doctors say it is normal to fluctuate like this. Thankfully, with my medication, my down days are not as low as they were prior to and while in the hospital. Praise God for that.

Disclaimer The following post shares a bit about one of the darkest moments in my recent life. I will be sharing some journal entries from my stay in the hospital this past May 2020 due to deep depression and PTSD symptoms. This in no way reflects how I am currently feeling, but my hope is that what I went through may help someone else who is or has gone through the same/similar feelings. This post may have some triggers, so I wanted to prepare you for the content.

This is the second installment in the journal series from my stay in the hospital.

May 14, 2020 Entry 1: I am of the opinion that even though I feel I have no purpose or worth, I can try my best to make others happy and not to worry them. The problem with this frame of thinking is the part where I try to depend on my making others happy at the cost of myself. At what point will I fall back into the void? At what point will it not be enough? Others are not reliable enough to sustain my longing to be whole. At which point, should I even stay around? Would I be remembered? What if my existence is causing others pain? I cannot handle that. So, in the end, I'm not worth it.

Entry 2: Tire, but there is no rest. Lonely in a sea of people Darkness in the light Tears flooding the mind Numbness in a world of feelings Pain with no relief Shame with no place to hide Alive with no purpose Love with no understanding Art with no inspiration Music with no notes Life in service to my emotions Empty smiles Matching the emotions of others Void Despair In a pit with no escape Anger for no reason Frustrated with no outlet Chameleon What is the point?...

Entry 3: I am trapped. I am shackled to the mercy of my thoughts. I am a slave to do their bidding. They want what I am unwilling to give. The void is almost a welcomed guest. The nothingness is better than feeling. Is that a good thing?

Entry 4: What can I do? I can still be kind to others.

Entry 5: Imagine for a moment. You are standing in a dark room. The warm light from the door illuminates the wall in front of you just enough that you can see masks. These masks show different emotions. Looking outside the room, you see people smiling and laughing. Knowing you are void of emotion yourself, you reach for the mask with a smile on it. Taking the mask in hand, it feels foreign but you wear it anyway. Slowly, you make your way toward the light, but you are apprehensive. What it they see through the mask? Stepping out of the door, the people see your smiling mask and you realize no one every truly knew the you without the mask. But reaching for various emotion masks in the dark of that room has become such a habit to cover the void that you are, that you see no other way. This works, so why change? Just accept that I will always be the void.

Again, looking back at these entries in my journal, I wonder how I made it through this time in my life. I really am thankful for the staff at the hospital for helping me through it. Their constant checking in on my well being, though annoying at the time, was welcomed and needed. Their encouragement meant a great deal to me, and I contribute a lot of my current stability to their hard work and dedication to help the patients in the hospital, even when they are having hard days themselves. I still find myself reaching for masks in the dark, but the emotions they show feel less foreign.

Disclaimer The following post shares a bit about one of the darkest moments in my recent life. I will be sharing some journal entries from my stay in the hospital this past May 2020 due to deep depression and PTSD symptoms. This in no way reflects how I am currently feeling, but my hope is that what I went through may help someone else who is or has gone through the same/similar feelings. This post may have some triggers, so I wanted to prepare you for the content.

Some of you may be wondering where I disappeared to for the past three/four weeks in May. I hit an all time low and my thoughts of wanting to disappear into nothingness were getting to the point where I was scared that I might act, so with the advice of my mom and Darcey, I checked myself into the hospital. Though it was difficult to be in the hospital with no visitors except the other patients and staff, it was helpful to put into practice the techniques I was already aware of due to my schooling as an Applied Behavioral Science major. I suggest getting help if you ever feel like what I am about to share with you. This blog post will be the first in a series, sharing my journal of my emotions and thoughts while in the hospital. If you ever feel like this, please seek help

May 13, 2020 Entry 1: Purpose. Do I have one? What is the purpose of life? The Bible says it is to glorify God and spread his name to the world, but is there more than that? What have I accomplished in my 29 years of life? Sure people may miss me when I'm gone, but they would move on. Time would remarry, I'll just be a memory of times past.

Looking back on this journal entry, I was really struggling with doubt. I was doubting my faith, my worth, and my importance to the people in my life. However, with the help of medication that is assisting me in not dwelling on these thoughts, but accepting them as valid and then moving on, I am no longer doubting my purpose. I can now look forward and see what I want to do in life.

The next blog post will be multiple entries from May 14, 2020.

For those of you who do not already know, I was sexually abused by my step-dad from the time I was 8 years old till I was 16. I have been healing ever since. I don’t tell you this for your sympathy, but to give context for what I am about to write. See, my senior year of high school, I told my mom the truth about what was happening between her then husband and my step-dad. I am one of the lucky survivors who was believed, and action was taken to place him in jail. Jump ahead ten years into the future, Christmas of 2018, and we got the news that he was to be released out on parole. Though he is not able to walk around freely as of yet, he does have access to the internet to I’ve heard. Which means, he very likely has found my blog and has read my previous posts.

I thought that when he was released, I would be terrified. But I’m not. I truly believe that the reason for that is that God has been working in my heart and in my life to heal the shattered pieces left, and I believe He will continue to do so. Though He hasn’t been working in just my life. There is something broken in an individual who would willingly take advantage of the innocence and nievety of a child. However, God can redeem and repair that which is broken. I have to believe that as God has been healing and restoring me, He has also been doing a work in Rich’s heart as well. Therefore, with his release from prison, I pray that God does a real miracle in his life. That he becomes a genuine warrior for God. Not just in word and deed, but inside his heart and mind.

Now, don’t get me wrong. My praying for Rich does not mean that I wish to have a relationship with him, but I have forgiven him and continue to do so with each nightmare and paralyzation that occurs due to his crippling of my childhood development. But, I do love him with the love of God. By love, I mean true love that can only come from the Spirit living inside me, the love mentioned in 1 Corinthians 13:4-8a

“Love suffers long and is kind; love does not envy; love does not parade itself, is not puffed up; does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil; does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails.” (NKJV)

So I pray for him. I pray God will reach his tricky heart, like He has with so many others in the Bible who were thought to be lost causes. No one is a lost cause to God. I pray that with Rich’s release, that he will be released from the prison of his heart and will protect him from those who would do him wrong. I pray God becomes real to him. For Rich to see that no one is too far gone to be saved. That his sickness can be healed. And most of all that he would become repentant of the wrongs he has done to not only me, but many others.

I know that many people will not agree with me on this matter. That they will think I am crazy for how much I have forgiven. That they will not understand how I can honestly say that I love my abuser in a healthy way. But this is evidence of God’s supernatural working in my heart and life. What He does in me is between me and Him; other people do not have to understand it.

I am not defined by the abuse that occurred in my past. I am a child of God who is being molded in His image, and God doesn’t just love me, He loves Rich too. So, I don’t mind being judges as weird for wishing well my abuser because God knows my heart and will give me the courage to move forward with what He placed in it. I know this love is not from me. It is God’s love flowing from my heart. This is an example of God working in ways that don’t make sense in how the world works. And that is okay. Thanks for listening.

While reading my course required reading for Ethics and Moral Reasoning, I came across this quote from Mary Midgley, "Nobody can respect what is entirely unintelligible to them. To respect someone we have to know enough about him to make a favorable judgment, however general and tentative." This quote stood out to me as necessary to remember when attempting to relate to those of differing cultures and upbringings. For to understand someone, we must first step away from our perspective and experience to see the world through their eyes. Why do they believe what they believe? Why do they act in a certain way? Why do they seem unable to understand my point of view? What am I doing that may seem offensive to them simply because it is foreign? Once we approach these questions with genuine curiosity, we are better able to learn how to respect the differing individual. But not only respect the individual but respect their culture as well.

As I perceive the world, it is easy to see all the misunderstandings that occur due to others not fully understanding where another is coming from. It is hard to miss the pain and division that follows those misunderstandings. I begin to wonder if we were all to take a step back and attempt to understand the inner-workings of the individuals around us, we would be one step closer to achieving peace in our communities.

Anyways, that's just my two cents. You can take it or leave it. I am curious though. What are your thoughts on this quote?

The past few years have been the kind of years where you can see God through all the pain and hardships, but the pain and hardships you endure are the sorts you would really rather not experience. I remember back in April of this year; I was exhilarated at the thought of being me again. Of diving into a new church family, developing the relationships with our families that had been suffering due to distance, and giving back to the community that God would place us in. I had grand ideas. Of walking with our dog every day on the greenway. Of investing in the lives of our neighbors and family and becoming someone whom they could depend on in times of need or as a listening ear. Of being Jesus to those who don’t know Him. Of loving those around us no matter the cost. Of participating in a church that we could call home. Of using the skills and passions which God has placed in my heart for His glory.

Then we moved. We moved to a beautiful city that feels like a breath of fresh air being surrounded by nature on all sides and watching the change in seasons. We found a church that feels like home and shares our values. We made friends and are walking through life with a community. We have seen our families more often in the last eight months than it seems like the last eight years separated by half a country (even though this isn’t true, it sure feels like it). Tim has a job, and I am enjoying school. Life is good. God is good. We are blessed. And we are content. But, am I really?

See, the past few months we have been attending a wonderful church and participating in a community group with a fantastic group of people who quickly became our friends. I love community group because it allows us to walk through life together. To share our highs and lows in an environment that fosters dependence upon Jesus and a vulnerability that is beneficial to our growth as believers and as men and women with a heart to serve. Yet, when it comes time to share our struggles and triumphs over sin, my mouth remains shut. When my heart is screaming to trust these new friends, my lips are sealed.

I can come up with many excuses and reason as to why this may happen, like:

I’m terrified

I have communication apprehension

I was abused when I was a child

I recently left a sour situation with a ministry

I am an introvert

I have nothing left to give

I’m shy

Yes, I may have been hurt in the past and find it difficult to trust those with whom I recently decided to call my friends, but do excuses make it okay to ignore the Spirit that yearns to fellowship and to be held accountable by voicing the deepest parts of my heart? Do I believe the hardships I have endured can be used by God to further the gospel (Philippians 1, NKJV)? I understand that it is foolish to simply speak with no purpose, but when the Spirit places something heavy on my heart, I should be more than willing to speak on those things. So, what is stopping me?

If only I could open my mouth and share the passions that I have with those with whom I am living life. If only I would allow myself to say aloud that I appreciate those around me. If only I do, without hesitation, that which the Lord places in my heart to do for others. If only….

I wish I could be the person my heart longs to be. To step out of my comfort zone and let God use me as He wills. To be the hands that serve, the heart that prays, the mouth that is quick to encourage, the ears that are always listening, and the eyes that see what others cannot. To ask if I can join in on an activity that sounds like fun. To invite people over to play board games, chat, and fellowship. To give back because I trust God to continually fill me with Himself because I cannot do it alone.

For those of you reading this, thank you for bearing with me when I am abnormally quiet in situations where it is more appropriate to talk. Thank you for allowing me to share these things via a blog post than in person because I can’t find the words to say in the moment. Thank you for loving me and walking through life with me when I sometimes do not give back in return. Thank you.

Please pray for me. There is a lot of healing that needs to happen in my heart and mind because of past experiences, but God is gracious and kind. He healed me from the pain of childhood abuse, so I know He will heal me from the brokenness that occurred during the past eight years. Please pray that one day, I will be able to walk with my head held high, healed, whole, and joyful, ready to serve and love those around me with everything I’ve got as I hold fast to Jesus. One day.

I have reached that point. The point that I knew I would reach in this process of moving. The point I’ve been consistently giving back over to the Lord because fear is not of Him. Over and over in the Bible He says “do not fear”, and even in 2 Timothy 1:7 “For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and love and of a sound mind.”

But what is this point that I have reached, you may ask? The fear of the unknown.

The fear of leaving everything I’ve grown to know and accept for the past 7 years. The fear of not knowing what to expect as we move forward.

But then I remind myself, or rather, God reminds my heart, that He is with us no matter what.

Isaiah 41:10 “Fear no, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, Yes, I will help you, I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.” Matthew 28:20 “teaching them to observe all things that I have commanded you; and lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age.”

He is there already preparing a place for us to call a temporary home in that little corner of Earth that He is entrusting to us for a time. He is already working in the hearts of those we will meet and share life with when we move. He is working in my heart and mind, placing dreams and passions I didn’t know could exist in my life a few years ago, in preparation for our journey that is before us.

Therefore, even through the fear and doubt, I know I can trust the One who has never failed me. I can boldly step forward one step at a time knowing that He will guide my foot. And that excites me. That feeling of joy, hope, love, and excitement for what may be even though I don’t know all the details yet. This is what keeps me going.

Packing one box at a time, painting one accent wall a week, setting up appointments for apartments, and purchasing plane tickets. The knowledge that I’m not doing this alone. Not only do I have the God that created everything before me, I have a loving family by my side. I am not alone. And there is comfort in that.