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Short Hair

Posted by , 18 November 2011 · 167 views

Up until senior year in Highschool, I did hurt myself, usually when I failed at something and or got too emotionaly distraught. I used objects or my hands to hit myself. One moody day I did successfully knock my jaw out of alignment, that hurt more than I thought it would. I vowed to God if He healed me I'd never do it again. The Chiropractor couldn't get my jaw realigned, I had waited too long to go see him. Hurting myself was wrong and didn't fix anything, obviously. Other students were depressed for various reasons and slit their wrists or did drugs at school. But nobody knew what I did. I beat myself up, thought it'd make me stronger or teach me a lesson. I was hurtful to myself, to the body God gave me, to the Holy Spirit inside. How was I going to get better and from what reasons?
Fast forward to the end of high school. Still thought people hated me. Still was "broken".
My Grandmother was a very strict and hard woman, not so much anymore, but back then it was difficult for her to accept that people weren't going to be the same as her generation. But anyway, against her wishes, I was not married by 18, had no children and chopped my hair off. I felt great! I was my own person! I decided what I felt like and I felt like being free of all of the family nonsense and my nonsense (if I could). I not only wanted to be a better person just for me, but I wanted to enjoy life andenjoy being around other people. Little did I know I couldn't 'chop' away my troubles. But I could begin to find out why I was broken and work on it, that I was sure of. Still didn't know I had allergies other than animals and hay-fever, which didn't take rocket science to discover.
After graduating I went to church events and began stepping out of my prison to meet people. Testing who I was and standing up for what I thought was right spiritually. There was a lot of prayer about finding a friend that I could help for a time and she the same for me. God brought me together with certain people and led to others. Things were spanning horizons, different people and their families, I was coming in contact with a lot of people. After that, things started to change in my mind about who I was as a person and who I was seen as in other people's eyes. I was tougher, not the broken weakling that I thought everyone thought of me (possibly paranoia right there). I could give advice, somtimes too much, but when it was needed it helped others. I could be angry, sad, happy, somber, whatever around other people and my own family would just have to live with it.The downward spirals of emotion that I fell into reapeatedly in the past soon gave we to my ability to spiral up. When helping others and praying for them, when discovering things about the world I lived in and about my own feelings and thoughts, I felt like I could be loved. Not to say that there weren't plenty of bad days, or months of struggle, because there were. But the adventure had to have those times in order to grow a character. I had hope now. I moved about 14 times, had about that many jobs or more. Meet boys, left boys, met churches and the non churched. Met myself in the lowest of times where my spirals tossed me for a loop, but there was always one I could count on. My Father was there.

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