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Christie’s Testimony ...This is my life... Change is possible!

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  • Laura
    by Christie, I ve been feeling led for weeks to tell my story on here. To tell all of it and not hold back anything or worry about who I m gonna piss off or
    Message 1 of 2 , Apr 4, 2008
      by Christie,

      I've been feeling led for weeks to tell my story on here. To tell
      all of it and not hold back anything or worry about who I'm gonna
      piss off or embarass. I have been really struggling with this,
      wondering how much do I tell... how many people will take me off
      their friends list, how many people will stop talking to me in "real
      life"... I mean, it's not that big of a deal, everyone has problems,
      everyone has issues. I don't think mine are special. I just really
      feel the desire to open up and share some of mine, so that people
      can rejoice with me in the victory and deliverance that God has
      given me. Forgive me if I jump around or ramble... I still don't
      know what I want to say.

      Ever since I can remember, I suffered from terrible depression,
      anxiety, and fear. I remember acknowledging the depression around
      age 10, knowing that I was different, and miserable. I had terrible
      nightmares from early in childhood, all were violent and most were
      about me watching people I loved get hurt or killed. It made me
      worry during awake hours. I was very highly aware of where the
      people I loved were, what they were doing. If anyone was 3 minutes
      late I just knew they were dead. I lived in constant fear. I endured
      physical and emotional abuse at home. Of course, this instilled more
      fear in me. I suffered sexual abuse outside the home. Add more fear
      to the mix. Particularly of men. There are large portions of my
      childhood memory completely missing. This was not something that I
      acknowledged until last year. I believe now that at an early age, I
      learned to detach myself, to dissociate from the things that were
      happening to me, and numb everything. I guess this is a defense
      mechanism that is fairly common in abuse survivors. I escaped. Into
      books, I obsessed over books, so engrossed in the characters that I
      thought I really knew these people. Skip ahead several years, the
      sexual abuse has stopped for the most part, but the rest is still
      occurring fairly regularly. My family attended and was involved in
      church. I went to church at least twice a week my whole life. I
      filled a seat, and went home. I didn't really care about it. When I
      was 15 that changed. I was at a youth conference out of town with
      the youth group, I don't remember who was speaking or what they were
      speaking about, but I remember the song "I surrender all". I
      remember it being the first time in my life that I really thought
      about what God had done for me, what Jesus had done for me. I
      decided to live for God.

      Isn't it funny how once you start doing the right thing, once you're
      on the right track, the opposition comes at you from every
      direction... Shortly after this experience my life changed
      completely. Within a period of a few months, my fear grew leaps and
      bounds and took over my life completely. My dad was travelling for
      his work. He was never home. I was perfectly happy with that,
      because I had never gotten along with my father. I can admit now, I
      hated him. I wanted nothing to do with him. While he was gone, I
      started "talking to" a guy who was everything I wanted to be.
      Popular, athletic, fun, outgoing. I thought he was my key to all
      these things. That I might be able to let go of the anxiety and
      fear, that he was my ticket to popularity and status and comfort. I
      wasn't particularly attracted to him, I didn't have a romantic
      interest in him, but I liked the attention that he gave me and the
      possibility of who he could make me. So I went out with him a few
      times. Nothing serious, I at this point in my life hadn't even
      considered sex an option. It was the furthest thing from my mind. I
      was heavily involved in church. I sang in the easter play that year.
      After the play, he picked me up at my house. I was running late. I
      remember exactly what i was wearing. I left my panty hose on from my
      church dress, threw on a pair of light blue jeans over top, and a
      white shirt with lace around the collar. From Ames. I worried that
      people would know it was from Ames, and know that I was poor. I was
      so worried about what people thought of me. Anyway, we went to a
      party at a friends house. At least he said it was a party. There
      weren't many people there. He gave me a tour of the house. He sat me
      down on one of the beds. To "show me something". He clumsily kissed
      me, pushing me backwards onto the bed. I knew I didn't like him like
      that. But I didn't think kissing him would hurt anything. I mean I
      had to keep him interested somehow. I tried to stop him when he
      started getting too into it for my comfort. I wanted to go home. He
      was strong. He was an athlete. I didn't stand a chance. He took what
      he wanted.

      My dad came home shortly before or after this, I can't remember
      which. It's one of those blocks of time I don't have clear memories
      of. Funny how I can remember exactly what I wore that night, what
      color the bedspread was, the song that was coming through the vent
      from downstairs. But I can't remember if my dad was in the country.
      Anyway, it was around this time my dad came home from overseas. He
      wasn't home long before he left again, this time for personal
      reasons. I was babysitting the neighbor. He stopped there on his way
      out of town and said he and my mom couldn't get along and he was
      moving away for a little while. He said I might want to call someone
      to come sit with my mom. Turns out my dad had been having an affair.
      I conciously began repeating in my head "I'll never say no again,
      they will either take it anyway or leave to get it somewhere else".
      This became my mantra for dating for a long time. I never told
      anyone what happened to me. I know now that my behavior, my
      demeanor, changed drastically. I withdrew, I skipped school, I
      started smoking, I was constantly fighting with everyone at home. I
      became increasingly violent at home, with my brothers and sister and
      shamefully, my own mother. I became anorexic and bulemic, longing
      for some sense of control, I starved myself, or I binged and purged,
      i got up at 4 am to lift weights and do calisthenics, then went for
      two hour jogs and walks after school every day. I started
      shoplifting, wearing clothes that were way too revealing. I both
      craved and feared attention from men. The mixture of pride,
      pleasure, and terror and rage overwhelmed me with every disgusting
      sexual comment, every blast from a horn, every lingering stare.

      This all became too much for my mother to handle, especially when
      her whole world had been turned upside down by the separation with
      my father. She did what she thought was best for me and sent me to
      stay with a friend of hers out of state who offerred kindly to help.
      My mom did the best she could at the time, and I don't know what
      would've happened to me if I had stayed home at this time. But of
      course i didn't see any of that. All I saw was that my mom didn't
      want me. My sense of rejection was overwhelming. I believed that my
      father had left because of me. We hated each other, so it must have
      been my fault. He couldn't stand the thought of coming home as long
      as I was there. Then my mom sent me away. Talk about feeling
      unloveable.

      Skip ahead a couple of years. I'm 19 now and living across the
      country. I'm involved in church, I feel there is a calling on my
      life. A calling to help troubled women. After all, who would better
      understand a troubled woman? I realize now that this was not a
      calling on my life. It was an attempt to hide from my own demons,
      pain, past, by throwing myself face first into someone else's
      business, focusing all of my attention and energy ..ing them. I met
      a girl with a drug problem. A lesbian with a cocaine habit. She
      wanted off the drugs. I wanted to be the one to help her. I was
      surrounded by people who knew so much more than I knew, were so much
      more prepared to handle such a situation. But I was stubborn and
      desperate to have a life to focus on other than my own. I quit my
      job, I sat awake with her in a double bed for 3 days while she shook
      and bled and cried and screamed. I sang to her, held her, felt the
      pain right alongside her.

      Something happens when you go through such a traumatic event with
      someone. An emotional bond is created that is stronger than anything
      I had felt up to that point. I became so codependent with her. Her
      sobriety, her happiness, depended on me. And in return, my sense of
      self worth depended on her to need me. It was sick. It didn't take
      long before emotions that strong started to manifest as romantic
      feelings, as sexual urges. The combination of knowing that she was
      in that lifestyle, along with the strong emotional attachment we now
      had with each other, fueled a year long sexual affair. This was
      unlike anything I had ever felt before. In my experience up to that
      point, I believed men to be controlling, cold, using me for what
      they wanted and dropping me until they needed it again. This was
      something else. A bond is created when there is sexual contact
      between two people. Soul ties form. Factor into this the fact that
      women are naturally more emotional than men, and you can imagine how
      overwhelming the feelings can become between two women. Now factor
      in the already strong emotional bond due to the whole detox
      situation, and throw in for good measure the opposition we faced
      when people started to figure out what was going on. I disappointed
      a lot of people by conducting the way I was, and not many of them
      held back. We lived with a roommate who could not tolerate the
      relationship that we had started, she did not want to live in that
      situation. She rightfully packed up and left. Of course I can see
      the reasons behind it all now, but at the time all I knew was that
      she had been the owner of the furniture, she was the only one of us
      with a car, and now here were me and this girl, sitting in an empty
      apartment, with no way to get to work. All of the opposition only
      fueled the relationship. We formed this "us against the world"
      mentality that just made us even more codependent.

      We were together for a little over a year. I left her for another
      woman. There was a lot of drama at the beginning of that
      relationship. Issues with family, with exes, with friends, with
      school, with money, you name it, there was drama. Our lives revolved
      around it. It again formed the "us against the world" mentality in
      this new relationship. We started off fairly codependent. We even
      knew it, and attended one codependents anonymous meeting... we were
      too comfortable in the roles that we chose to continue to seek
      change. We had a lot in common, she and I. We had similar past
      experiences. We had similar beliefs. We had similar preferences and
      sense of humor. We were wonderful friends. I wish it had stayed that
      way. Our relationship quickly... very quickly... became emotionally
      and physically abusive.

      Over the course of over 7 years, we took turns hurting each other
      and punishing each other for the pain that others had inflicted on
      us. It was so manipulative that even though we both knew we were
      doing it, we also knew we were getting away with it and neither of
      us would leave the situation, so we continued to hurt each other in
      every way possible. We said things to each other that I could never
      repeat. We beat, kicked, bit, pushed, threw... you name it, we did
      it to each other. Then there was the self abuse. Along the years I
      had grown to hate myself, hate my body, for the things that it had
      attracted, for the emotional pain that I blamed my body for bringing
      in to my life. I put on over 100 pounds of cushion. Conciously I was
      afraid to be attractive. I did not want to be noticed. I also
      maintained the obesity to comfort my girlfriend, who was worried
      that if I was more attractive I would leave her for someone else.
      After all, I had left someone else for her.

      In addition to the binge eating, during the first lesbian
      relationship I had slipped into a self mutilation habit that started
      as burning myself, with lighter or cigarette, and eventually, during
      the breakup and beginning of the second relationship, led to a full
      blown cutting addiction. I craved the pain like nothing I had ever
      needed before. I felt so guilty at times for hurting her that I
      believed I deserved the pain. Other times I would cut because I felt
      so numb that I needed to feel the pain just to feel something. Other
      times it was like a drug.

      The anxiety would get so bad, my heart pounding, breath quick, mind
      racing, panic increasing... until I saw the blood. I frantically cut
      cut cut dozens of cuts at a time. I never felt a thing. The sight of
      the blood was like a drug. Calmness would wash over me and I would
      just stare at the flow and breathe deep as the panic left me. I
      started using pills to escape the drama. Take a handful of sleeping
      pills to get out of this fight, sleep away the day and wake up and
      start over. It went from sleeping pills to anxiety pills to pain
      pills, whatever would sufficiently numb me but was still socially
      acceptable and in my sick head, was not a drug problem. Fast forward
      a little bit, the drama where we lived got to be too much. We blamed
      the people around us and thought if we got away and went to school
      and settled down, things would calm down for us. We moved 8 hours
      away, back here, to where my family lives. My parents did not
      acknowledge her in any way at first. It was heartbreaking for me.
      After a couple of months though, my mom started inviting her to do
      things with the family.

      Eventually my entire family grew to love her as part of the family.
      Actually at times I felt they liked her more than me haha. Anyway,
      the point is, my mom learned that all the preaching she had tried
      with me, didn't change anything. She decided to try something
      different. She decided to show me and my girlfriend the
      unconditional love of Jesus. She loved us both, as individuals, and
      it showed. I knew that she was praying. It made me mad. I didn't
      want this relationship to end. I didn't want to face the reality of
      my past and my issues, I wanted to continue to hide in the
      relationship. I fought so hard to keep the relationship together,
      because I knew once it was over I would have to face reality and
      deal with the issues that led me to settle for the life I was
      living. I began to remember things about my childhood. I craved
      answers. I asked why? about everything. Everything I did, said, I
      needed to know what motivated it.

      I started seeing that the fear of men, the childhood abuse, the
      rape, the abandonment issues surrounding my father leaving us, then
      my mom sending me away, all contributed to me being drawn to women
      from such an early age because these things had happened to me at an
      early age. This is why I had believed for the past decade that I had
      been born gay. In response to the abusive situations I was in, I was
      drawn to women for comfort and protection. I realized last year that
      I was not born gay. It was a realization that devastated me.

      Once this hit me, I conciously realized that if I lost this
      relationship, I would really have to deal with these things, and I
      didn't think I was ready to do that. I stopped talking to my family,
      I sunk into the deepest depression of my life. I started having
      frequent, severe panic attacks. I started cutting again. I'm sure I
      almost lost my job, I missed so much work over being sick and the
      panic attacks. I tried everything in my power to make my girlfriend
      stay.

      I don't know how anyone who knew me during this time managed to put
      up with me. I was miserable. I did my best to mask what was going on
      inside me. I went to work, painted on my smile, sat in my corner,
      kept to myself, did my work, and went home crying every night. I
      don't know how I didn't drive my ex crazy. She witnessed the worst
      of it all. I melted down before her eyes. I feel guilty that she had
      to see me like that, but at the same time, it was what pushed her
      away, and that is exactly what needed to happen.

      After a year of misery, she had enough. She moved on. The night that
      she left I took some sleeping pills to escape the pain for just a
      little bit. I dreamed over and over again that night about killing
      myself. Different scenarios, different methods. I had never felt the
      desire so strong to just die. The only thought that went through my
      head over and over again was "I'm done, I need to die." I got up,
      called her. One last try, my last ditch effort. Even as the
      words "please come home" were coming out of my mouth, I knew that
      this wasn't what I wanted, wasn't what I needed. But I said it
      anyway. Of course, she said no. I walked into my bedroom, picked the
      gun up off the night stand, walked into the spare bedroom, sat down
      on the floor and put the gun up to my temple. I put my finger on the
      trigger. I closed my eyes. I told myself over and over again to just
      do it. just do it. just do it. It'll all be over soon. I sat there
      like that for 20 minutes. My eyes snapped open, I dropped the gun. I
      got up, in a daze, walked out the door and drove up to my parents
      house. I walked in bawling, and told my mom she needed to send me
      away, find somewhere for me to go, I couldn't be alone or I was
      gonna kill myself. My mom held me. I sat there waiting to hear "this
      is what happens when you fight God. This pain was avoidable, you
      brought it on yourself. You deserve this because you chose her over
      God" I never heard those words. My mother spoke to me with more love
      than I had ever felt in words. She told me about what she did to
      survive when my father left. She told me she understood the pain and
      hopelessness I felt. She related to me. She didn't minimize what I
      was feeling just because it was another woman, not a man, not a
      marriage. When she ran out of words, I still layed there on her lap
      crying uncontrollably. The only words I could say was " i can't do
      this". Mom prayed. She didn't tell me she was praying, she didn't
      say anything out loud. But she held me, stroked my hair, and prayed.
      I don't know what momma was saying to God, but my entire life
      changed in one instant. One minute I'm laying there completely
      hopeless, inconsoleable, ready to die. All of the sudden, a warmth
      washed over me. I felt it, physically, but also mentally or...
      emotionally. It washed over me like a wave, and peace flooded my
      entire body. The tears stopped. The thoughts stopped. My pulse
      slowed down. My breath normalized. Everything in my body just
      relaxed. I can't find words big enough to describe the love that I
      felt in that moment. I felt like God himself picked me up, wrapped
      me in his arms, and held me. I could hear him saying to me "THIS is
      what love is. this is what love feels like. this is what you could
      have, and all i want in return is that pain you felt a minute ago.
      you choose. you choose the pain, or this." It didn't take long to
      make that decision. I didn't want that feeling to ever leave. I sat
      there in astonishment... this is what I had been missing all along?
      This is what I gave up... for the miserable, sorry substitution that
      I had settled for, believing it was love? There was no question. I
      was not giving this up. I was not turning back.

      For the past couple of years, I had stayed up all hours of the
      night, every time there was a meteor shower coming. I would sit
      outside in the freezing cold, staring at the sky for hours. My ex
      couldn't stay interested. She never saw one. I told her I had to
      watch. I explained to her that every meteor, every "shooting star"
      was God telling me he loves me and everything would be ok. I felt
      that each one was sent specially for me.

      After this night at my mom's house, the night everything changed,
      for two straight weeks, I saw at least one shooting star every
      single night. I would be on my way home from work, driving from
      mom's, walking into the house, whatever I was doing, wherever I
      was... every night for two solid weeks, God gave me that sign. I
      both laughed and cried, saying thank you, for every single one that
      I saw. I knew that God loved me. I knew that I would be ok.

      I prayed every single day,that whatever God did not want in my life,
      he would take the desire away from me. That he would make His will
      my own, no matter how painful. It got me nowhere to fight God, I had
      learned that without a doubt. I still wasn't convinced that I would
      ever be attracted to a male, or be able to love a man, but I was
      willing to let God change me, if that's what He really wanted for
      me.

      The process hasn't been easy. I faced a lot of opposition. Like I
      said early on, once you start doing what's right, trying to do the
      right thing, obstacles come at you from every direction. I faced
      health issues, financial issues, intense loneliness. I mourned the
      loss of the community. I had never felt so alone. I felt that no
      human being could relate to what I was going through. I threw myself
      into relationships and sexual situations with men, trying
      to "normalize" myself faster. I of course got hurt in these
      situations, because I wasn't ready yet. I made horrible decisions
      which set back my progress. But with every obstacle, I remembered
      the shooting stars. I remembered the love that flooded my heart
      laying there on my mom's couch. And I pressed on.

      It got easier over time. As I kept praying for God to take the
      desire away for the things he didn't want in my life, he did just
      that. I no longer have any desire at all for anything other than
      friendship and sisterhood from females. I didn't expect it to ever
      happen, I was ready to live celibate forever, but I have developed
      attraction and feelings for males that I never had before. I have
      not had a panic attack, episode of depression, ounce of fear, desire
      to self harm, my food cravings disappeared, I have quit smoking
      cigarettes... God has healed it all. I have been delivered from
      things I suffered my whole life from. I have forgiven my father, my
      ex, the boy from high school, everyone.

      I have come to really understand that hurting people hurt people.
      Abuse, rape, these things are not about hate, not about sex. They
      are about power, about control. I have come to see that the people
      who victimized me were themselves victims of similar circumstances.
      As hard as it is to believe, my heart has been filled with love for
      these people, compassion, and hope that they too will experience the
      healing that I have, the love that only God can give.

      I hope that for everyone who reads this, that you would have the
      opportunity to experience the peace and love that I have been so
      blessed with.


      ~Christy is the founder of the online group "Out of Egypt" a myspace
      ministry solely dedicated to helping people struggling with sexual
      sin find their way back to the Father.

      http://www.myspace.com/outofegyptministry
    • ctickle777
      Wow, what a great testimony. Thanks for sharing.
      Message 2 of 2 , Apr 14, 2008
        Wow, what a great testimony. Thanks for sharing.



        --- In exgaydiscussionboard@yahoogroups.com, "Laura" <exgaydates@...>
        wrote:
        >
        > by Christie,
        >
        > I've been feeling led for weeks to tell my story on here. To tell
        > all of it and not hold back anything or worry about who I'm gonna
        > piss off or embarass. I have been really struggling with this,
        > wondering how much do I tell... how many people will take me off
        > their friends list, how many people will stop talking to me in "real
        > life"... I mean, it's not that big of a deal, everyone has problems,
        > everyone has issues. I don't think mine are special. I just really
        > feel the desire to open up and share some of mine, so that people
        > can rejoice with me in the victory and deliverance that God has
        > given me. Forgive me if I jump around or ramble... I still don't
        > know what I want to say.
        >
        > Ever since I can remember, I suffered from terrible depression,
        > anxiety, and fear. I remember acknowledging the depression around
        > age 10, knowing that I was different, and miserable. I had terrible
        > nightmares from early in childhood, all were violent and most were
        > about me watching people I loved get hurt or killed. It made me
        > worry during awake hours. I was very highly aware of where the
        > people I loved were, what they were doing. If anyone was 3 minutes
        > late I just knew they were dead. I lived in constant fear. I endured
        > physical and emotional abuse at home. Of course, this instilled more
        > fear in me. I suffered sexual abuse outside the home. Add more fear
        > to the mix. Particularly of men. There are large portions of my
        > childhood memory completely missing. This was not something that I
        > acknowledged until last year. I believe now that at an early age, I
        > learned to detach myself, to dissociate from the things that were
        > happening to me, and numb everything. I guess this is a defense
        > mechanism that is fairly common in abuse survivors. I escaped. Into
        > books, I obsessed over books, so engrossed in the characters that I
        > thought I really knew these people. Skip ahead several years, the
        > sexual abuse has stopped for the most part, but the rest is still
        > occurring fairly regularly. My family attended and was involved in
        > church. I went to church at least twice a week my whole life. I
        > filled a seat, and went home. I didn't really care about it. When I
        > was 15 that changed. I was at a youth conference out of town with
        > the youth group, I don't remember who was speaking or what they were
        > speaking about, but I remember the song "I surrender all". I
        > remember it being the first time in my life that I really thought
        > about what God had done for me, what Jesus had done for me. I
        > decided to live for God.
        >
        > Isn't it funny how once you start doing the right thing, once you're
        > on the right track, the opposition comes at you from every
        > direction... Shortly after this experience my life changed
        > completely. Within a period of a few months, my fear grew leaps and
        > bounds and took over my life completely. My dad was travelling for
        > his work. He was never home. I was perfectly happy with that,
        > because I had never gotten along with my father. I can admit now, I
        > hated him. I wanted nothing to do with him. While he was gone, I
        > started "talking to" a guy who was everything I wanted to be.
        > Popular, athletic, fun, outgoing. I thought he was my key to all
        > these things. That I might be able to let go of the anxiety and
        > fear, that he was my ticket to popularity and status and comfort. I
        > wasn't particularly attracted to him, I didn't have a romantic
        > interest in him, but I liked the attention that he gave me and the
        > possibility of who he could make me. So I went out with him a few
        > times. Nothing serious, I at this point in my life hadn't even
        > considered sex an option. It was the furthest thing from my mind. I
        > was heavily involved in church. I sang in the easter play that year.
        > After the play, he picked me up at my house. I was running late. I
        > remember exactly what i was wearing. I left my panty hose on from my
        > church dress, threw on a pair of light blue jeans over top, and a
        > white shirt with lace around the collar. From Ames. I worried that
        > people would know it was from Ames, and know that I was poor. I was
        > so worried about what people thought of me. Anyway, we went to a
        > party at a friends house. At least he said it was a party. There
        > weren't many people there. He gave me a tour of the house. He sat me
        > down on one of the beds. To "show me something". He clumsily kissed
        > me, pushing me backwards onto the bed. I knew I didn't like him like
        > that. But I didn't think kissing him would hurt anything. I mean I
        > had to keep him interested somehow. I tried to stop him when he
        > started getting too into it for my comfort. I wanted to go home. He
        > was strong. He was an athlete. I didn't stand a chance. He took what
        > he wanted.
        >
        > My dad came home shortly before or after this, I can't remember
        > which. It's one of those blocks of time I don't have clear memories
        > of. Funny how I can remember exactly what I wore that night, what
        > color the bedspread was, the song that was coming through the vent
        > from downstairs. But I can't remember if my dad was in the country.
        > Anyway, it was around this time my dad came home from overseas. He
        > wasn't home long before he left again, this time for personal
        > reasons. I was babysitting the neighbor. He stopped there on his way
        > out of town and said he and my mom couldn't get along and he was
        > moving away for a little while. He said I might want to call someone
        > to come sit with my mom. Turns out my dad had been having an affair.
        > I conciously began repeating in my head "I'll never say no again,
        > they will either take it anyway or leave to get it somewhere else".
        > This became my mantra for dating for a long time. I never told
        > anyone what happened to me. I know now that my behavior, my
        > demeanor, changed drastically. I withdrew, I skipped school, I
        > started smoking, I was constantly fighting with everyone at home. I
        > became increasingly violent at home, with my brothers and sister and
        > shamefully, my own mother. I became anorexic and bulemic, longing
        > for some sense of control, I starved myself, or I binged and purged,
        > i got up at 4 am to lift weights and do calisthenics, then went for
        > two hour jogs and walks after school every day. I started
        > shoplifting, wearing clothes that were way too revealing. I both
        > craved and feared attention from men. The mixture of pride,
        > pleasure, and terror and rage overwhelmed me with every disgusting
        > sexual comment, every blast from a horn, every lingering stare.
        >
        > This all became too much for my mother to handle, especially when
        > her whole world had been turned upside down by the separation with
        > my father. She did what she thought was best for me and sent me to
        > stay with a friend of hers out of state who offerred kindly to help.
        > My mom did the best she could at the time, and I don't know what
        > would've happened to me if I had stayed home at this time. But of
        > course i didn't see any of that. All I saw was that my mom didn't
        > want me. My sense of rejection was overwhelming. I believed that my
        > father had left because of me. We hated each other, so it must have
        > been my fault. He couldn't stand the thought of coming home as long
        > as I was there. Then my mom sent me away. Talk about feeling
        > unloveable.
        >
        > Skip ahead a couple of years. I'm 19 now and living across the
        > country. I'm involved in church, I feel there is a calling on my
        > life. A calling to help troubled women. After all, who would better
        > understand a troubled woman? I realize now that this was not a
        > calling on my life. It was an attempt to hide from my own demons,
        > pain, past, by throwing myself face first into someone else's
        > business, focusing all of my attention and energy ..ing them. I met
        > a girl with a drug problem. A lesbian with a cocaine habit. She
        > wanted off the drugs. I wanted to be the one to help her. I was
        > surrounded by people who knew so much more than I knew, were so much
        > more prepared to handle such a situation. But I was stubborn and
        > desperate to have a life to focus on other than my own. I quit my
        > job, I sat awake with her in a double bed for 3 days while she shook
        > and bled and cried and screamed. I sang to her, held her, felt the
        > pain right alongside her.
        >
        > Something happens when you go through such a traumatic event with
        > someone. An emotional bond is created that is stronger than anything
        > I had felt up to that point. I became so codependent with her. Her
        > sobriety, her happiness, depended on me. And in return, my sense of
        > self worth depended on her to need me. It was sick. It didn't take
        > long before emotions that strong started to manifest as romantic
        > feelings, as sexual urges. The combination of knowing that she was
        > in that lifestyle, along with the strong emotional attachment we now
        > had with each other, fueled a year long sexual affair. This was
        > unlike anything I had ever felt before. In my experience up to that
        > point, I believed men to be controlling, cold, using me for what
        > they wanted and dropping me until they needed it again. This was
        > something else. A bond is created when there is sexual contact
        > between two people. Soul ties form. Factor into this the fact that
        > women are naturally more emotional than men, and you can imagine how
        > overwhelming the feelings can become between two women. Now factor
        > in the already strong emotional bond due to the whole detox
        > situation, and throw in for good measure the opposition we faced
        > when people started to figure out what was going on. I disappointed
        > a lot of people by conducting the way I was, and not many of them
        > held back. We lived with a roommate who could not tolerate the
        > relationship that we had started, she did not want to live in that
        > situation. She rightfully packed up and left. Of course I can see
        > the reasons behind it all now, but at the time all I knew was that
        > she had been the owner of the furniture, she was the only one of us
        > with a car, and now here were me and this girl, sitting in an empty
        > apartment, with no way to get to work. All of the opposition only
        > fueled the relationship. We formed this "us against the world"
        > mentality that just made us even more codependent.
        >
        > We were together for a little over a year. I left her for another
        > woman. There was a lot of drama at the beginning of that
        > relationship. Issues with family, with exes, with friends, with
        > school, with money, you name it, there was drama. Our lives revolved
        > around it. It again formed the "us against the world" mentality in
        > this new relationship. We started off fairly codependent. We even
        > knew it, and attended one codependents anonymous meeting... we were
        > too comfortable in the roles that we chose to continue to seek
        > change. We had a lot in common, she and I. We had similar past
        > experiences. We had similar beliefs. We had similar preferences and
        > sense of humor. We were wonderful friends. I wish it had stayed that
        > way. Our relationship quickly... very quickly... became emotionally
        > and physically abusive.
        >
        > Over the course of over 7 years, we took turns hurting each other
        > and punishing each other for the pain that others had inflicted on
        > us. It was so manipulative that even though we both knew we were
        > doing it, we also knew we were getting away with it and neither of
        > us would leave the situation, so we continued to hurt each other in
        > every way possible. We said things to each other that I could never
        > repeat. We beat, kicked, bit, pushed, threw... you name it, we did
        > it to each other. Then there was the self abuse. Along the years I
        > had grown to hate myself, hate my body, for the things that it had
        > attracted, for the emotional pain that I blamed my body for bringing
        > in to my life. I put on over 100 pounds of cushion. Conciously I was
        > afraid to be attractive. I did not want to be noticed. I also
        > maintained the obesity to comfort my girlfriend, who was worried
        > that if I was more attractive I would leave her for someone else.
        > After all, I had left someone else for her.
        >
        > In addition to the binge eating, during the first lesbian
        > relationship I had slipped into a self mutilation habit that started
        > as burning myself, with lighter or cigarette, and eventually, during
        > the breakup and beginning of the second relationship, led to a full
        > blown cutting addiction. I craved the pain like nothing I had ever
        > needed before. I felt so guilty at times for hurting her that I
        > believed I deserved the pain. Other times I would cut because I felt
        > so numb that I needed to feel the pain just to feel something. Other
        > times it was like a drug.
        >
        > The anxiety would get so bad, my heart pounding, breath quick, mind
        > racing, panic increasing... until I saw the blood. I frantically cut
        > cut cut dozens of cuts at a time. I never felt a thing. The sight of
        > the blood was like a drug. Calmness would wash over me and I would
        > just stare at the flow and breathe deep as the panic left me. I
        > started using pills to escape the drama. Take a handful of sleeping
        > pills to get out of this fight, sleep away the day and wake up and
        > start over. It went from sleeping pills to anxiety pills to pain
        > pills, whatever would sufficiently numb me but was still socially
        > acceptable and in my sick head, was not a drug problem. Fast forward
        > a little bit, the drama where we lived got to be too much. We blamed
        > the people around us and thought if we got away and went to school
        > and settled down, things would calm down for us. We moved 8 hours
        > away, back here, to where my family lives. My parents did not
        > acknowledge her in any way at first. It was heartbreaking for me.
        > After a couple of months though, my mom started inviting her to do
        > things with the family.
        >
        > Eventually my entire family grew to love her as part of the family.
        > Actually at times I felt they liked her more than me haha. Anyway,
        > the point is, my mom learned that all the preaching she had tried
        > with me, didn't change anything. She decided to try something
        > different. She decided to show me and my girlfriend the
        > unconditional love of Jesus. She loved us both, as individuals, and
        > it showed. I knew that she was praying. It made me mad. I didn't
        > want this relationship to end. I didn't want to face the reality of
        > my past and my issues, I wanted to continue to hide in the
        > relationship. I fought so hard to keep the relationship together,
        > because I knew once it was over I would have to face reality and
        > deal with the issues that led me to settle for the life I was
        > living. I began to remember things about my childhood. I craved
        > answers. I asked why? about everything. Everything I did, said, I
        > needed to know what motivated it.
        >
        > I started seeing that the fear of men, the childhood abuse, the
        > rape, the abandonment issues surrounding my father leaving us, then
        > my mom sending me away, all contributed to me being drawn to women
        > from such an early age because these things had happened to me at an
        > early age. This is why I had believed for the past decade that I had
        > been born gay. In response to the abusive situations I was in, I was
        > drawn to women for comfort and protection. I realized last year that
        > I was not born gay. It was a realization that devastated me.
        >
        > Once this hit me, I conciously realized that if I lost this
        > relationship, I would really have to deal with these things, and I
        > didn't think I was ready to do that. I stopped talking to my family,
        > I sunk into the deepest depression of my life. I started having
        > frequent, severe panic attacks. I started cutting again. I'm sure I
        > almost lost my job, I missed so much work over being sick and the
        > panic attacks. I tried everything in my power to make my girlfriend
        > stay.
        >
        > I don't know how anyone who knew me during this time managed to put
        > up with me. I was miserable. I did my best to mask what was going on
        > inside me. I went to work, painted on my smile, sat in my corner,
        > kept to myself, did my work, and went home crying every night. I
        > don't know how I didn't drive my ex crazy. She witnessed the worst
        > of it all. I melted down before her eyes. I feel guilty that she had
        > to see me like that, but at the same time, it was what pushed her
        > away, and that is exactly what needed to happen.
        >
        > After a year of misery, she had enough. She moved on. The night that
        > she left I took some sleeping pills to escape the pain for just a
        > little bit. I dreamed over and over again that night about killing
        > myself. Different scenarios, different methods. I had never felt the
        > desire so strong to just die. The only thought that went through my
        > head over and over again was "I'm done, I need to die." I got up,
        > called her. One last try, my last ditch effort. Even as the
        > words "please come home" were coming out of my mouth, I knew that
        > this wasn't what I wanted, wasn't what I needed. But I said it
        > anyway. Of course, she said no. I walked into my bedroom, picked the
        > gun up off the night stand, walked into the spare bedroom, sat down
        > on the floor and put the gun up to my temple. I put my finger on the
        > trigger. I closed my eyes. I told myself over and over again to just
        > do it. just do it. just do it. It'll all be over soon. I sat there
        > like that for 20 minutes. My eyes snapped open, I dropped the gun. I
        > got up, in a daze, walked out the door and drove up to my parents
        > house. I walked in bawling, and told my mom she needed to send me
        > away, find somewhere for me to go, I couldn't be alone or I was
        > gonna kill myself. My mom held me. I sat there waiting to hear "this
        > is what happens when you fight God. This pain was avoidable, you
        > brought it on yourself. You deserve this because you chose her over
        > God" I never heard those words. My mother spoke to me with more love
        > than I had ever felt in words. She told me about what she did to
        > survive when my father left. She told me she understood the pain and
        > hopelessness I felt. She related to me. She didn't minimize what I
        > was feeling just because it was another woman, not a man, not a
        > marriage. When she ran out of words, I still layed there on her lap
        > crying uncontrollably. The only words I could say was " i can't do
        > this". Mom prayed. She didn't tell me she was praying, she didn't
        > say anything out loud. But she held me, stroked my hair, and prayed.
        > I don't know what momma was saying to God, but my entire life
        > changed in one instant. One minute I'm laying there completely
        > hopeless, inconsoleable, ready to die. All of the sudden, a warmth
        > washed over me. I felt it, physically, but also mentally or...
        > emotionally. It washed over me like a wave, and peace flooded my
        > entire body. The tears stopped. The thoughts stopped. My pulse
        > slowed down. My breath normalized. Everything in my body just
        > relaxed. I can't find words big enough to describe the love that I
        > felt in that moment. I felt like God himself picked me up, wrapped
        > me in his arms, and held me. I could hear him saying to me "THIS is
        > what love is. this is what love feels like. this is what you could
        > have, and all i want in return is that pain you felt a minute ago.
        > you choose. you choose the pain, or this." It didn't take long to
        > make that decision. I didn't want that feeling to ever leave. I sat
        > there in astonishment... this is what I had been missing all along?
        > This is what I gave up... for the miserable, sorry substitution that
        > I had settled for, believing it was love? There was no question. I
        > was not giving this up. I was not turning back.
        >
        > For the past couple of years, I had stayed up all hours of the
        > night, every time there was a meteor shower coming. I would sit
        > outside in the freezing cold, staring at the sky for hours. My ex
        > couldn't stay interested. She never saw one. I told her I had to
        > watch. I explained to her that every meteor, every "shooting star"
        > was God telling me he loves me and everything would be ok. I felt
        > that each one was sent specially for me.
        >
        > After this night at my mom's house, the night everything changed,
        > for two straight weeks, I saw at least one shooting star every
        > single night. I would be on my way home from work, driving from
        > mom's, walking into the house, whatever I was doing, wherever I
        > was... every night for two solid weeks, God gave me that sign. I
        > both laughed and cried, saying thank you, for every single one that
        > I saw. I knew that God loved me. I knew that I would be ok.
        >
        > I prayed every single day,that whatever God did not want in my life,
        > he would take the desire away from me. That he would make His will
        > my own, no matter how painful. It got me nowhere to fight God, I had
        > learned that without a doubt. I still wasn't convinced that I would
        > ever be attracted to a male, or be able to love a man, but I was
        > willing to let God change me, if that's what He really wanted for
        > me.
        >
        > The process hasn't been easy. I faced a lot of opposition. Like I
        > said early on, once you start doing what's right, trying to do the
        > right thing, obstacles come at you from every direction. I faced
        > health issues, financial issues, intense loneliness. I mourned the
        > loss of the community. I had never felt so alone. I felt that no
        > human being could relate to what I was going through. I threw myself
        > into relationships and sexual situations with men, trying
        > to "normalize" myself faster. I of course got hurt in these
        > situations, because I wasn't ready yet. I made horrible decisions
        > which set back my progress. But with every obstacle, I remembered
        > the shooting stars. I remembered the love that flooded my heart
        > laying there on my mom's couch. And I pressed on.
        >
        > It got easier over time. As I kept praying for God to take the
        > desire away for the things he didn't want in my life, he did just
        > that. I no longer have any desire at all for anything other than
        > friendship and sisterhood from females. I didn't expect it to ever
        > happen, I was ready to live celibate forever, but I have developed
        > attraction and feelings for males that I never had before. I have
        > not had a panic attack, episode of depression, ounce of fear, desire
        > to self harm, my food cravings disappeared, I have quit smoking
        > cigarettes... God has healed it all. I have been delivered from
        > things I suffered my whole life from. I have forgiven my father, my
        > ex, the boy from high school, everyone.
        >
        > I have come to really understand that hurting people hurt people.
        > Abuse, rape, these things are not about hate, not about sex. They
        > are about power, about control. I have come to see that the people
        > who victimized me were themselves victims of similar circumstances.
        > As hard as it is to believe, my heart has been filled with love for
        > these people, compassion, and hope that they too will experience the
        > healing that I have, the love that only God can give.
        >
        > I hope that for everyone who reads this, that you would have the
        > opportunity to experience the peace and love that I have been so
        > blessed with.
        >
        >
        > ~Christy is the founder of the online group "Out of Egypt" a myspace
        > ministry solely dedicated to helping people struggling with sexual
        > sin find their way back to the Father.
        >
        > http://www.myspace.com/outofegyptministry
        >
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