Amen, let's praise the Lord together! "Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice!" (Phil 4:4). Trust Jesus for healing & strength. He's worthy of our praise! 
Hello everyone! Let's lift up 
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Let's lift up persecuted Christians worldwide & Israel for peace. 
Pray for 
Healing prayers for 
#Jesus
J
Javaloach
Guest
Hello my name is Erika. I have never prayed. I hated the thought of it. I hated the thought of bowing before a god to ask for help. I still am skeptical but I have no where else to turn for answers. I feel so low, so guilty, so alone, so tired. I have been through what feels like so much and I never told a single soul of some certain problems of mine because I felt if I dealt with it alone I would come out stronger. I do feel strong but at the same time hollow. It's as if when I notice i'm hollow I see everything inside that I thought I defeated has just built up inside and joined forces there. I can't forget these events but now I finally can tell someone and hope I find answers. I have certain unspoken of moments in my life that I remember so clearly it's as if they're my only memories. Today i'll share them with you in hopes of relieving some of this pain.
As a child I was beaten, I remember being thrown down stairs then dragged back up by my hair. I remember being in mid air then feeling the thump of being tossed into walls. I remember having my collar bones squeezed so hard it felt like I was being choked. I had my wrist broken by my father's grip. I had to hide under a sweater at school and lie about my bruises to my peers and teachers. I vividly remember hiding in my closet crying after being beat and my father coming in and taking pictures and recordings of me crying in a fetal position. I hated it.
At age seven I was walking in my neighborhood by myself around 7o'clock when I was kidnapped by a group of men and put into a sack or bag of some sort. It was dark and I remember them talking and a strange strong smell then falling asleep. Next thing I remember I was being dropped off on the side of some road and I had nothing to do but walk back home.
My mother was religious. Catholic I believe, she went to school with the nuns and all that. Well, we were visiting family in mexico and someone thought it would be fun to go to a bull fight. I had no idea what was coming and I personally love animals. Everyone in my family KNEW that. AND i'm a proud Taurus. I watched bull after bull fight to the death. Broken legs, blood, cries of pain. Every time the bull fell the fanfare would play a song of victory. I couldn't take it. I told my mother i'd be outside until it was over and I sat outside. I sat on a sidewalk and waited trying to ignore the fanfare band songs silently crying for the bulls when my mother comes and grabs my hair throwing me back on the ground. She starts yelling at me saying 'we had to miss the show because we were looking for you the whole time!' Something along those lines. I shouted no I told you I'd be here. She started to hit me in front of everyone. I looked over and saw an officer. I was so relieved. Finally! some authorities know about what goes on at my home! I watched and waited for his response. He just turned away. I couldn't believe it. I became furious. I stood up and told my mother to stop hitting me. I was filled with rage and she said 'what am I supposed to be afraid of you?' and she slapped me across the face.
I kept myself distant throughout my childhood in fear of being hurt, rejected, or anything else. In other words people were bad and I avoided them. Over the years my dreams mixed into one big story and I had a separate life in my dreams. It is hard to explain but my dreams were connected to each other. I'd go to sleep in this world and wake up in my dream world and the same people/room/objects were there every time. The people there had names and personality just as they do here. When I went to sleep in my dream world I woke up in this one. It was like that for years and it became hard to tell which one was a dream and which one was real. I still remember one of my 'dream friends' Seth had gotten a gash in his arm from a fight and had me wrap it for him and change it every so often while I was dreaming.
My sophmore year of high school I was told that I will be blind before age 21. Currently I am 20 and I have noticed the change in my eye sight and I had to touch or listen to things at first to make sure I don't hit anything when I don't wear my special lenses. I guess one good thing did come out of that though, now I can actually hear walls. So, I can walk in a room with my eyes closed and not hit any of the walls because I can hear their distance. Or with objects I can hear their shape. I dunno it's hard to explain but very neat to me. lol
In one of my classes we were able to have an animal to raise and sell to the market. My final pig didn't do so well, she didn't get a prize so no body wanted her. No trucks came to pick her up and take her to slaughter. I did not have anywhere to keep her as a pet and I loved her she was like a pet dog of mine that I tried not to fall for all year. Someone heard of my situation and was nice enough to let me use their meat saws and large walk in freezer. So with that I visited with this man that day and my pig was running around the yard playing with his dog and digging up roots. It started getting dark and with a shotgun in my hands I called her over to me. She ran over with her floppy ears bouncing and I tried to be angry at her so I could do it. I killed her. I skinned her. I gutted her. I drained her blood and cut her body into small pieces. My clothes and skin were stained and I can occasionally still feel her blood on my hands.
I lost my first friend. His name was Chris. He was quite literally my very first friend, we had so much fun. Gummy bear traps, fart bombs, and the trampoline were just some of many first memories of playing as a child with him. We grew up together but we were very different at the same time. He loved parties, and always asked me to join him. Sure! We drank and had fun together all the time. One night he comes over with a couple drinks. We have a couple shots and he decides he wants to party and asked me to join. This time I said no, i'm feeling sort of lazy today. He was left to find a party with other friends. I then get a call at five in the morning of someone crying. I think to myself 'who is this, who is calling?' and I ask her to calm down. She tells me Chris is dead. I rush over to the scene thinking it can't be true, it's not him, I have to see for myself. Turns out the driver was drunk and Chris was in the middle backseat without a seat belt. Upon impact he was thrown through the front window and his body was cut in half. His face was gone from hitting the concrete and his scalp had ripped off... Why did I come here. Why did I have to see.
To make matters worse, the family had an open casket funeral. I stared into the casket with disgust. His rebuilt face was horrible. His hair was artificial and the wrong color. He looked like a completely different person. I couldn't accept it and remained calm throughout the service. Years later I gave in and cried for his death. I felt so guilty for looking at him the way I did the last time I saw him.
After high school I was kicked out and had no where to go. Some nights I stayed in my car other times I stayed at a few friends houses for two weeks tops because I did not want to be a burden. In this process of trying to get back on my feet, a specific 'friend' of mine and his friend that I did not know, agreed to let me stay with them. It was a mistake. I was raped that night by them and all I could do was cry. (i'm about 4'11-5'0 weighing 100lbs) I couldn't do much against these guys who were over twice my size.
I worked at a japanese resteraunt and became close with the fellow employees. One employee who I had always admired from a distance was named Kyochin and he later on became my boss. I couldn't tell anyone that I had a slight crush. I was 18 at the time and he was MUCH older. 38 to be exact. He comforted me in ways that I never thought possible. One night after work we were sitting in his car talking as we did and he admitted to wanting to kiss me. I was thrilled and admitted the same, but I was also worried because he had a son and a girlfriend/soon to be fiance. He asked me to stay with him until I find a permanent place to stay. I stupidly said yes. He gave me a couple blankets and pillows and let me sleep on the sofa in this spare room. I woke up to him crawling under the blankets with me. I feel dirty for doing something like that and I still think about it to this day.
Today I have a number of 'disorders' that I choose to ignore. Anemia, adult separation anxiety disorder, schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, dissociative identity disorder, social anxiety. So far these are what the counselor has found for me. Do I take medicine? No I don't believe in medicine. I know that sounds stupid to some but medicine and me just don't mix well. I just do my best to contain it by keeping my mouth shut. Or if i'm alone I drain out the anxieties with ... weed. I'm not too proud of that either but it works.
I am aware that not everyone will read this, maybe no one will make it to the end. Maybe a lot of people will make it to the end. I do not know. But I truly hope that this helps me or anyone with similar issues who reads this and knows that they are not alone.
As a child I was beaten, I remember being thrown down stairs then dragged back up by my hair. I remember being in mid air then feeling the thump of being tossed into walls. I remember having my collar bones squeezed so hard it felt like I was being choked. I had my wrist broken by my father's grip. I had to hide under a sweater at school and lie about my bruises to my peers and teachers. I vividly remember hiding in my closet crying after being beat and my father coming in and taking pictures and recordings of me crying in a fetal position. I hated it.
At age seven I was walking in my neighborhood by myself around 7o'clock when I was kidnapped by a group of men and put into a sack or bag of some sort. It was dark and I remember them talking and a strange strong smell then falling asleep. Next thing I remember I was being dropped off on the side of some road and I had nothing to do but walk back home.
My mother was religious. Catholic I believe, she went to school with the nuns and all that. Well, we were visiting family in mexico and someone thought it would be fun to go to a bull fight. I had no idea what was coming and I personally love animals. Everyone in my family KNEW that. AND i'm a proud Taurus. I watched bull after bull fight to the death. Broken legs, blood, cries of pain. Every time the bull fell the fanfare would play a song of victory. I couldn't take it. I told my mother i'd be outside until it was over and I sat outside. I sat on a sidewalk and waited trying to ignore the fanfare band songs silently crying for the bulls when my mother comes and grabs my hair throwing me back on the ground. She starts yelling at me saying 'we had to miss the show because we were looking for you the whole time!' Something along those lines. I shouted no I told you I'd be here. She started to hit me in front of everyone. I looked over and saw an officer. I was so relieved. Finally! some authorities know about what goes on at my home! I watched and waited for his response. He just turned away. I couldn't believe it. I became furious. I stood up and told my mother to stop hitting me. I was filled with rage and she said 'what am I supposed to be afraid of you?' and she slapped me across the face.
I kept myself distant throughout my childhood in fear of being hurt, rejected, or anything else. In other words people were bad and I avoided them. Over the years my dreams mixed into one big story and I had a separate life in my dreams. It is hard to explain but my dreams were connected to each other. I'd go to sleep in this world and wake up in my dream world and the same people/room/objects were there every time. The people there had names and personality just as they do here. When I went to sleep in my dream world I woke up in this one. It was like that for years and it became hard to tell which one was a dream and which one was real. I still remember one of my 'dream friends' Seth had gotten a gash in his arm from a fight and had me wrap it for him and change it every so often while I was dreaming.
My sophmore year of high school I was told that I will be blind before age 21. Currently I am 20 and I have noticed the change in my eye sight and I had to touch or listen to things at first to make sure I don't hit anything when I don't wear my special lenses. I guess one good thing did come out of that though, now I can actually hear walls. So, I can walk in a room with my eyes closed and not hit any of the walls because I can hear their distance. Or with objects I can hear their shape. I dunno it's hard to explain but very neat to me. lol
In one of my classes we were able to have an animal to raise and sell to the market. My final pig didn't do so well, she didn't get a prize so no body wanted her. No trucks came to pick her up and take her to slaughter. I did not have anywhere to keep her as a pet and I loved her she was like a pet dog of mine that I tried not to fall for all year. Someone heard of my situation and was nice enough to let me use their meat saws and large walk in freezer. So with that I visited with this man that day and my pig was running around the yard playing with his dog and digging up roots. It started getting dark and with a shotgun in my hands I called her over to me. She ran over with her floppy ears bouncing and I tried to be angry at her so I could do it. I killed her. I skinned her. I gutted her. I drained her blood and cut her body into small pieces. My clothes and skin were stained and I can occasionally still feel her blood on my hands.
I lost my first friend. His name was Chris. He was quite literally my very first friend, we had so much fun. Gummy bear traps, fart bombs, and the trampoline were just some of many first memories of playing as a child with him. We grew up together but we were very different at the same time. He loved parties, and always asked me to join him. Sure! We drank and had fun together all the time. One night he comes over with a couple drinks. We have a couple shots and he decides he wants to party and asked me to join. This time I said no, i'm feeling sort of lazy today. He was left to find a party with other friends. I then get a call at five in the morning of someone crying. I think to myself 'who is this, who is calling?' and I ask her to calm down. She tells me Chris is dead. I rush over to the scene thinking it can't be true, it's not him, I have to see for myself. Turns out the driver was drunk and Chris was in the middle backseat without a seat belt. Upon impact he was thrown through the front window and his body was cut in half. His face was gone from hitting the concrete and his scalp had ripped off... Why did I come here. Why did I have to see.
To make matters worse, the family had an open casket funeral. I stared into the casket with disgust. His rebuilt face was horrible. His hair was artificial and the wrong color. He looked like a completely different person. I couldn't accept it and remained calm throughout the service. Years later I gave in and cried for his death. I felt so guilty for looking at him the way I did the last time I saw him.
After high school I was kicked out and had no where to go. Some nights I stayed in my car other times I stayed at a few friends houses for two weeks tops because I did not want to be a burden. In this process of trying to get back on my feet, a specific 'friend' of mine and his friend that I did not know, agreed to let me stay with them. It was a mistake. I was raped that night by them and all I could do was cry. (i'm about 4'11-5'0 weighing 100lbs) I couldn't do much against these guys who were over twice my size.
I worked at a japanese resteraunt and became close with the fellow employees. One employee who I had always admired from a distance was named Kyochin and he later on became my boss. I couldn't tell anyone that I had a slight crush. I was 18 at the time and he was MUCH older. 38 to be exact. He comforted me in ways that I never thought possible. One night after work we were sitting in his car talking as we did and he admitted to wanting to kiss me. I was thrilled and admitted the same, but I was also worried because he had a son and a girlfriend/soon to be fiance. He asked me to stay with him until I find a permanent place to stay. I stupidly said yes. He gave me a couple blankets and pillows and let me sleep on the sofa in this spare room. I woke up to him crawling under the blankets with me. I feel dirty for doing something like that and I still think about it to this day.
Today I have a number of 'disorders' that I choose to ignore. Anemia, adult separation anxiety disorder, schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, dissociative identity disorder, social anxiety. So far these are what the counselor has found for me. Do I take medicine? No I don't believe in medicine. I know that sounds stupid to some but medicine and me just don't mix well. I just do my best to contain it by keeping my mouth shut. Or if i'm alone I drain out the anxieties with ... weed. I'm not too proud of that either but it works.
I am aware that not everyone will read this, maybe no one will make it to the end. Maybe a lot of people will make it to the end. I do not know. But I truly hope that this helps me or anyone with similar issues who reads this and knows that they are not alone.
