Trading Self-Harm for Self-Worth

As I’m writing this post, I have just celebrated 100 days clean from self-harm. I have not cut, burned, or bruised myself since May. Yes, I am thankful for this achievement, but to be honest milestones scare me. To me they represent how much harder I’m going to fall if/when I mess up again. This morning I texted a friend, “I don’t think I need to cut anymore.” But right now, I’m not in crisis. Sure, I still have things going on in my life. Relationship issues, especially with my family are a constant concern and very heavy on my heart. I am still texting another friend daily about taking my medicine, because I am not at the point where I will without that support and accountability. However, my new job is going well, I have an amazing support system, I feel happier being by myself—more confident and independent, and I’m able to keep my house up much better than I have been able to in years. My relationship with Jesus is strengthening and growing, and I’m learning how to say “no,” take breaks, rest, and not to feel guilty about asking for what I need from my close friends. As Lysa TerKeurst said in her new book, The Best Yes, “Saying yes all the time won’t make me wonder woman. It will make me a worn out woman.” I am so thankful, and incredibly grateful for this season in my life.

Recently, while I was reading through some articles, I came across this truth that said something to the effect, “Be thankful for what you are now, and keep fighting for what you want to be tomorrow.” I’m thankful, I truly am. But, I’m not giving up on fighting for what I hope to be—whole, clean, at peace with my family, a better friend, recovered, physically and mentally healthy, and totally obsessed with my Savior. It’s a process, I know, I know. And, I also realize the majority of those things I’m fighting for are things I will be fighting for my entire life. But, I do have hope. I feel stronger every day. I feel loved and supported. I am leaning into the strength, hope, and love I believe I can only find in Jesus by studying His Word, spending time with Him, working on constantly communing throughout the day, and receiving grace for each day—one day at a time.

I have no idea what the future will hold. I pray I hold onto His promises and do not fall into the addicting cycle of self-harm, guilt, avoidance, and shame again. Lately, I am spending a lot of time in the Psalms, and repeating to myself Psalm 139: 14, “I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Your works are wonderful, I know that full well.” I know when I hurt myself, it is more than just hurting me. I also hurt the ones I love the most. I hurt God. I inadvertently hurt my students by not being 100% there for them. Although before I knew hurting myself didn’t really solve my problems or help me express my feelings, I am understanding that in a different light now. I am not naïve to the fact that I very well may fall again. The statistics are not in my favor. But, I know if I do, I won’t stay there. I now know life is so much better and fuller without it. I don’t want to hurt my loved ones. I don’t want to hurt myself. I don’t want to hurt Jesus.

So today, although you may not specifically struggle with these particular “ashes,” I can say almost certainly that you know someone who does. I hope this post has helped you better understand the daily battle and feelings behind self-harm. I pray that compassion grows in your heart and you love your friend or family member struggling so much that they feel hope and can begin to heal and recover. That is how I began healing—not because my friends shamed me into stopping, but because they held me, cried with me, looked at my scars, and spoke life into me through both their words and actions. I cannot tell you how much a card, a kind word, a hug, or a meal out means to someone who feels like they are not worth loving.

If you are struggling with these ashes, you can shake them off and find the beauty in them. Scars show healing. Scars can remind you of what didn’t work—the hurt, but then the recovery—the hope. Be thankful for your rock bottom, because that can become a solid foundation for you to rebuild your life. Find the people or perhaps person in your life that you can trust and be completely honest with. Prayerfully seek these friends. You should seek someone who you can be real life with every single day. Sometimes there are people who will not be able to be there for you. Let them go, but don’t lose hope that no one will love you. There are people who will understand and love you unconditionally. Even if you are not ready to share yet, know your Heavenly Father understands you, hurts when you hurt, and loves you no matter what. Rest in Him and remember you are being held in the palm of His hand. Trade with me the ashes of self-harm for the beauty of self-worth. You are worthy. You are made in His image and do not need to hurt yourself. He already took all your hurt and scars. You are worth that and so much more. You are loved by the Maker of the universe. Now, I can confidently say that is without a single doubt worth the trade.  

 

With love and the hope of healing, 

Carrie

So I have this blog now...

For about 7 months, I have felt the calling to start a blog. I have prayed about it, fought against it, but I know it is something I have to do. I have prayed for those of you who will read this blog—prayed that my simple words will in some way encourage and help you along this journey of life. Plato says, “Be kind for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.” I think that is the best description of what this blog will be about for now—my battle to thrive and the battles of others who inspire me to keep going one more day. Yes, it will probably evolve, and I’m excited for that too. But for right now, I’m going to open my heart and share my story.

A HUGE part of my story is that I am a Survivor—a survivor of sexual assault and trauma.  Recovery, support groups, therapy, and other survivors are a crucial and integral part of my life now. Obviously, I didn’t plan that part of my future. But that’s ok, because without that I would not be who I am today. By the grace of God alone, I know now without a doubt, HE is the author and hero of my story.

Now, let me explain a little bit about the title of this blog. Those who know me know my faith is my lifeline. One scripture I fiercely cling to promises, “[God will] comfort all who mourn and give them a crown of beauty instead of ashes.” (Isaiah 61:3) In Biblical times, it was customary to lie in ashes during great times of mourning and difficulty. So when the people of that time had a problem in their lives, they would literally sit down in a pile of ashes. There was no mask, no putting on a brave face. I love that. Life is real. Terrible, unspeakable tragedies occur all around us on a daily basis. It is inevitable that you will experience pain, but life won’t always be painful. There may be nothing initially beautiful about ashes, but there are heartfelt moments and amazing people you meet on this journey. I have experienced love, acceptance, and understanding as never before, and I truly believe we can all trade our ashes for beauty. Even if you are not spiritual, the metaphor can still be powerful, and that is why there could be no more appropriate title for this blog--this journey.

But, what about the recovery—the trading hurt for healing part? I may not still be in the ashes of my assault, but I don’t feel like I’m anywhere near understanding or seeing the beauty from it either. Can I just be honest? The waiting, the healing—it is the most difficult, most excruciating experience I’ve ever been through, even more so than the assault itself. This is the hard part to write about because the wound is still so fresh. Although it’s been some years since my trauma occurred, there are days it still feels like yesterday. Small things turn into huge things. A simple task turns into an unexpected, complicated mess. My therapist, who is a saint, keeps telling me to, “Be kind to yourself.” But, I’m angry! I’m frustrated! I want to shake off the ashes and never look back. Unfortunately, it just doesn’t happen that way. It is a trade. This recovery is a process, and I have to be patient with myself.

Brene’ Brown, a renowned author, shame researcher and storyteller states, “Owning our story can be hard, but not nearly as difficult as spending our lives running from it. Embracing our vulnerabilities is risky, but not nearly as dangerous as giving up on love and belonging and joy—the experiences that make us the most vulnerable. Only when we are brave enough to explore the darkness will we discover the infinite power of our light.” Brene’ also speaks a lot about courage and says that the true meaning of courage is to tell your story with your whole heart. Well, I am working on that. I want to tell my story with my whole heart. Why? Because in the midst of lying in and dusting off ashes, there are beautiful moments. There are amazing people who see the beauty from your ashes even when you can’t and especially when you can’t! I don’t want anyone to forget that or get too mucked down in the ashes that they can’t see those moments happening!

I guess this blog—this expression of the trade I am going through is probably one of the scariest and bravest things I’ve ever done.  I am blessed and so thankful to have the support of several close friends who believed in me and faithfully encouraged me to courageously write about my trade—to share my story with my whole heart. What will make all this pain and hurt worth it? Well, my prayer is that God will use me and my story to change someone’s life—to give you hope, to help you not give up, to allow you to know you are not alone. You are valuable, worthy, and important—no matter what battle you’re fighting.  Also, I want to help and encourage you not to miss the beauty occurring all around us every day—the silver lining of our ashes.

I pray that while I’m trading my ashes for beauty, you will be able to do the same. I believe in you, and I know you can do it! Thank you for listening and opening your heart.  

 

One last quote (for now!):

"But, what if I fall? Oh, but my darling… what if you fly?”

 

With love--let's fly,

Carrie