Daggers in the Heart

I did a lot of thinking last night about what to write today. There are so many different things floating through my head. I finally decided to write about rejection since it seems to be a very constant theme in my life.

Yet, even this morning I was debating changing to write about running away, because that is a theme too, but I will write about rejection first because it is pretty much the foundation for all the upsets in my life.

Everyone (mostly) has felt some level of rejection in their lives at one point or another. It could have been when they were in elementary school and they were the last ones chosen to play on someone's baseball team. It could have been through a bad breakup with a boyfriend or girlfriend. The rejection may even have come by way of a job applied for, but not accepted for, or a school application or whatever the case may be.

Many fewer individuals have had to deal with rejection from family members. I would be one who falls in this category, but not in the way you might think. I wasn't given up for adoption or abused. I don't get the cold shoulder. Yet, the rejection my parents used on me was a rejection of my opinion. Not even that they heard me out and made decisions against my opinion. Rather, they never cared enough to even hear what I had to say. A lot of decisions were made while I was growing up that my parents never consulted my brother's or my opinion on even though those decisions impacted our lives deeply.

One such time was when they decided to sell all the cows off of our family farm. Farming was my life. I came home each day from school and would work 3-4 hours milking the cows, feeding the calves, etc. Then, one day when I was 16 I overheard my mom talking to this other man who helped farmers put their animals in auctions. My parents had decided to sell the cows without asking me or my brother and what's worse, they didn't even have the guts to tell us they had. It broke my heart into a million pieces. Sounds crazy right? Who could be attached to a bunch of dumb animals?

Well, the truth of the matter is that I faced rejection from my peers at school too. I had precious few friends; I was pretty much the outcast. So, the work at home was my only support and foundation. The cows were my friends. Imagine if you can losing 150 of your friends at the same time as your parents are betraying you. Betcha you can't imagine that depth of pain. I couldn't either until it happened...

Rejection has always come from guys too. I know I am not the prettiest girl around or even the nicest. I am not the smartest or funniest. Yet, when a guy you like chooses one of your friends over you, it hurts.

One time - it is a slap in the face
Two times - feels like a kick in the stomach
Three times and after - like a dagger is being plunged in your heart deeper and deeper with twisting motions.

In the space of a minute I could think of four distinct times this has happened to me. Wow, I am repulsive. But the most recent of these times I not only lost a crush, but I lost my friend in the mix too. Whether I pushed her away or she just didn't have time for me anymore is irrelevant. Our friendship died and I realized that not only do guys reject me, but my friends do sometimes too.

I realize how long this is getting, and need to stop, but I want to say one more thing:

I do not blame others for rejecting me. Yes, there are times when I am angry and even think I hate those people, but the truth is, everyone gets rejection, I just seem to attract it more (which is ironic actually).

I often and easily blame myself - I'm not pretty enough, nice enough, etc. But that doesn't hold water either. No one is perfect. My brand of imperfections are just more obvious because I refuse to hide them.

I don't blame God, though I have tried. Yet, He is not the author of evil and rejection. He accepts me and always has in spite of all the rejection going on around me. Yes, He allowed the rejection to hit, but those wounds are a part of this broken and sinful world we live in.

No escape until Heaven... crap... oh well... suck it up one more time SJ and keep moving forward. Someday you will find someone who will not reject you (probability is in your favor).

What's In a Name?

This is me: my completely broken and screwed up self.

The title for this blog should be Broken Outcast or something equally true and depressing. Yet for some reason my parents gave me this name. Not that I am called Joyful Princess by my family or friends. Actually I am just called Sara Jo or Sara Joyce. Yet - that is what my name means: Princess of Joy. Sara is Hebrew for princess and Joyce is just another form of Joy. I am not one who necessarily thinks a name defines a person, but one of my most enduring life goals is to live up to my name.

I am neither joyful nor do I feel/act like a princess.

I have dealt with depression for over half of my lifetime - I remember it starting in junior high and progressing through high school. I thought I was over it on January 1, 2003, but I realized this screwed up life of mine would not let me be free for long. Today, almost exactly 6 years later I am still fighting daily for my life - literally.

I am mean, arrogant, selfish and stubborn. I am neither graceful nor gracious. I am not beautiful by anyone's standards except God's, and I treat people - even my own family and friends - like crap on a regular basis.

So, you can see I am not living up to my name in any way, shape, form, or fashion. I am a failure in this aspect of my 23 years of life. If life is what you can call it. I have been thinking lately that life is more like death and death is more like life. I can explain: being alive (breathing, seeing, hearing) is painful and is not worth doing. And death looks like a release from this pain.

But, yuck, this blog is getting depressing already... not what I wanted.

I wanted to start this blog so I can find healing and help from my messed-up-ness. I will be writing about different struggles in my life: past pains and present difficulties. My hope is that I can remind myself of what-all God has done to heal me so far and is doing now to continue healing me. Yes, I am angry at Him for the pain I have to deal with, and angry that He doesn't comfort me the way I think He should, and angry that He seems so distant when I need Him most. But the truth of His unfailing love and faithfulness remains in spite of me, so I look for answers and resolutions, grace and forgiveness. Joy and Worth.

Who knows, maybe entering into and dealing with my pain will somehow help others. But that would be more than I could hope for right now.