From Burnt to Sunny Side Up (This has some harsh, and painful life experiences in it).
- Heather Adams
- Jul 17, 2018
- 5 min read
Life is kind of like eggs. We have periods where we are burned. Burned by people we love, burned by childhood trauma and abuse, burned by our choices, burned from our free will ( because for the majority it seems we abuse it for greed, pain, to do as we please instead of how we should, to hurt people and belittle them, to control others, to make us feel powerful, to make others feel beneath us, and so much more), burned by the actions of those we cannot control, and during these periods of burning we often focus on everything wrong, the pain, the darkness, the need for revenge and hate, and believe me when I say I know that darkness all to well. Then it happens there is a light, our shell cracks, and we fill that familiar sizzle. Except this time someone is there carrying us. We do not sit in the middle of the pan directly on the fire. We are held tightly to the side. We slowly sizzle and we cringe waiting for the burn, waiting to bust in the center as we have so many times before, but this time. It is different. This time we trust the one carrying us. We stick closely to his side as he speaks, and as we still sizzle, no burning edges, no yolk busted, or to carry, we let it all go and we start to see the happiness, the joy, the peace. We have reached the sunny side.
We sigh it was a long time coming. Years of rage, heartache, denial, pain. Years locked in the darkness fueled by anger and hate. Years of addiction and hiding in a bottle or a magic pill or puff of smoke. Finally, we kneel, we break down like the shell of our egg, exposed and finally we completely surrender to the hands of the one who carries us, protects us, guides us, and promises to never burn us, but to always keep us tucked closely beside him away from the direct flame. No one or no thing can stand before him. Our Father, YWEH, Jehovah, El Elyon Adonai, Abba, Lord, Christ, Jesus...He has many names, but my favorite is Abba Father my comforter, my stronghold, my refuge, and my strength.
He and I have a long road together. Despite for so long I thought I was alone. He was always there watching, waiting, sometimes answering, and sometimes putting people in my angery, hurt, painful filled hearts way. My story is a long one, it could fill books, and it will not be easy to tell, but my hope is not for pity, but in hopes that someone will know they are not alone, ever, and that they can survive because someone has. The best part not only can you survive you can have peace, joy, and happiness. You can live.
I know all these things because in the blogs to come I will tell it like it is. I know the guilt, the anger, the hatred, love, the confusion, the loathing you feel for an abuser, and also your self along with no self worth, you are empty and hollow inside playing the game like a game of chess, tip toeing on egg shells, silently crying, but no longer rewarding them with tears. I know the masks as a child worn for fear of being torn away from siblings, thinking it is normal, finding out is not, the picture perfect home until the door closes and everyone is in bed asleep until the church members have packed up the last of the food, and all their instruments to go home, until you are alone. Then there are the trips just for you, sometimes their are the slaps, the kicks, but never unless by accident where people can see. You close your eyes and you are nothing, you are in oblivion, in darkness for their you fell and see nothing. I know the safest places to hide in the attic cowering and praying, the closet in the dark hidden under blankets and clothes. One day you break. You thought you were strong, but you cannot take it anymore for the ones you love and try to protect. Maybe you tell someone, maybe you runaway to the streets, maybe you confide in a best friend, or maybe it is discovered by someone in your family. Your lips tremble, you fill relief and fear. You tightly cling to a gun small hands trembling as your baby brother is carried by you to a truck. You can not move, you are frozen, but you methodically sigh with relief that your abuser stayed in the bed as you snuck into the darkness to go where you thought it would all end. To the person who should protect you, but it does not end when the blue and red lights pull up behind you. Your brother slides from behind the wheel. You hold your baby brother close. Your both trembling he is waking and scared, he doesn't know what is going on. You feel like vomiting, but you swallow knowing if you lose it your baby brother will too. You see your brother talking to the cops, and then his shoulders slump and he cries, and you know that he is broken. That you have destroyed him because you were weak, and could not take it any longer. You know nothing will ever be the same, and you know deep inside you destroyed everyone.
Maybe you were lucky and got out soon before to much damage was done to your body and psyche. Maybe you were stronger and stayed, but you should not. Know that you are not the monster. Those words in your head that repeat over and over those are not you. YOU are a survivor. You have strength beyond your years, and you deserve to not carry the burden, the blame, the family on your tiny sagging shoulders. I wish this story had a happy ending right now, but we have just begun a long, winding, lonely road. A road filled with more tears, more pain, lessons, love, loss, heartbreak, numbness, rage, fear, hate, and finally understanding, self love, joy, peace, and a wholeness you never felt, but always longed for. That is a long ways to come for now your heart blackened an innocence taken, and a road filled with your choices, a road you run hard and fast on away from your Father broken, and angry, and never seeing until mile, mountains, desserts, and oceans later that he was there. He was always there waiting for you to reach out and take his hand and feel the peace and love he always had for you and intended you to feel
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