Very few people actually SEE the junk.
Like many (I suspect), I am very good at hiding the *real* me.
I smile when I'd rather cry.
I laugh when I'd rather scream.
I beat myself up when I am tempted to lash out.
I dress nicely, wear makeup, fix my hair, make small talk, all when I would rather be somewhere else, doing something different, away from people altogether.
The not-so-nice Laura breaks things, and swears, and screams mean names at people (and animals), and hits, and hurts, and really doesn't like herself. It has been a lot of years since the not-so-nice Laura has escaped the confines where she is buried, but make no mistake - - she IS still there. There is a lot of rage buried deep inside, and frustration, and too much hurt, and humiliation, and fear in there, too, and some days it feels like all of nasty, festering junk is pushing at the confines, and I am sure it is going to escape.
The ugly under-side of me is as much a part of me as is the nicely dressed mom at church, or the busy mom-playing-taxi-driver, or the chief-cook-and-bottle-washer.
A painful part of this is that too often believers say that my "self" should be gone...after all, I have accepted the forgiveness provided through Jesus' death and resurrection. When people say those things to me, there is an unsaid expectation that I am not allowed to talk about my ugly side, because it should be GONE. After all, I have been a believer for more than 30 years...I should have released them a long time ago.
And yet...I HAVE been a believer for more than 30 years. AND all of the ugly IS still there.
Some days I wonder why.
Is there more I need to *DO*? I don't think so. After all, Scriptures make it very clear that my salvation is by FAITH, not works, and nothing I can DO, and nothing anyone else can DO will take me out of the hands of God.
Another question arises...is this the result of my PTSD? Frankly, since I don't know life aside from PTSD, I couldn't say whether or not this is a direct consequence of my PTSD, and thus can be logically blamed on the source of the PTSD. I just don't know if this is a struggle I would have even without my diagnosis.
I DO know that some days I struggle to keep my anger under wraps.
I DO know that some days all of my inherent negativity wants to spill over on everyone in my life.
I DO know that some days all I want to do is curl up in my bed, and drink until I can't remember anything.
I DO know that some days peopleing/adulting is the hardest thing in the world.
I also know that QUIT, and GIVE UP are not part of my vocabulary.
I know that, even though I am exhausted, and grumpy, and tired, tomorrow morning I will get up, and get my kids out the door to school, and I will do the things, and I will be a friend, and a parent, and a spouse, even though I want to sleep, or drink, or eat all the sugar. I will keep putting one foot in front of the other, doing the things God gives me to do, being the person I am convinced He wants me to be, and trusting that HE will take care of all of that nasty stuff down inside of me, trying to force its way out.
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