During my sophomore year of college, I was asked to be an apprentice to my leaders in the cult to which I belonged. I accepted it with open arms. I thought it would help me meet more people and help me to gain more friends, but I actually gained more enemies and IIIII rejected my real friends. I love the accolades and fame I got from being in the position. There were people that actually looked up to me for once.
I learned some valuable skills because I assisted with every aspect of putting a meeting together. I called people and invited them personally to the meetings, eventhough, I was not very successful at this because I was not fruitful; Public Relations (which is not my favorite thing to do), but I did it because that was my job. I didn't have much of a choice. The cult was semi helpful for me at that time of my life because it helped boost my self esteem and there were quite a few privileges along with it, but I got in a lot of trouble all the time. I was always doing something wrong and when I did something wrong, my leaders would always tell my discipler who would literally scream at me. She told me that she was ashamed for me when I did things that no one understood, but it made sense to me. I hated those moments. I was the goof up. I did wrong all of the time. Everytime I met with my discipler, it made it easier on me to expect being in trouble. I hardened my heart and allowed her to yell and throw blame at me; sometimes I didn't do anything, but she never really listened to me. If I said anything, it was refuted.
At this point, I wanted to die. If I had to continue to go through this turmoil and if it was God's will then I couldn't take it anymore. I wanted to die. During this time, I needed a place to escape so I decided to escape in my mind. I turned to masturbation. I thought about sex all of the time. Thinking about sex helped me to feel relaxed for a little while. I didn't think it would make me as tense as I felt later on. I not only did it in my dorm room, but I did it in class, work and everywhere I went. Thinking about sex and actually engaging in an orgasm was my relief from my life. I also joined a social group that didn't know what I was going through, but most of them seemed to be so encouraging. They were my Jesus with skin on them.
I think many people misinterpreted what I did. I am not the same as everyone else. I don't fit the status quo. I am different and shouldn't be judged. No one was being hurt by my actions. Some people just don't understand me and that is okay. It will be like that forever, but I am learning how to understand and respect myself. It is taking a long time for me to get there.
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Monday, December 28, 2009
My Second and Third Foundation - I'm all screwed up
Yes, my first foundation was what my parents taught me. My second foundation was school and my third foundation was, you guessed it, church. I am all screwed up because church was supposed to be my first and only foundation, not just the church, but the Word of God, but it wasn't. I was supposed to then know when I went to college that I was a child of a King, but I didn't take this information to heart. It was only in my head.
I attended college right after high school; this was the first time I was away from my parents. I had goals and I was going to achieve them. Getting a break from my parents was one thing and the other was growing in my spirituality. Oh boy, I did. I lived in the dorms and I met people instantly. My personality is a little odd. I am outgoing, but I am shy. I must push myself out because if I don't, I could just stay me focused quite a bit. I wanted something different than what I was exposed to so I joined a religious organization that even claimed to be different. I knew this would push me out of my comfort zone. Little did I know I was joining a cult.
I started asking questions about the Bible and how it was supposed to be related to my life. I wanted an indepth study. It turned out that they were willing to help me and they even invited me to their church which I became a member of shortly after attending there two or three times. I maintained my membership for four and a half years. I think to date that was the longest four and a half years of my life.
After joining their church, they invited me to join the bible studies' discipleship program. They met on campus so it was very convenient. I was assigned to a discipler and we met for an hour each week. This is where the problem started. She made me feel like I was trapped. She was so good at hearing from God that she told me what God's will was for my life. It was God's will for me to be a part of that group and everyone who went to college and went to our church, it was God's will as well for them to be apart of that group. If they were not attending our group, we were not allowed to speak to them. They were in sin. I was stupid enough to believe this.
I also believed that I was bad. I was a horrible person. She didn't speak it to me out loud. She said it through her actions. Everytime my discipler corrected me, she would raise her voice at me and dramatize what I did with the inflection in her voice and make me feel like crap. I felt so embarrassed and so ashamed. I never stood up for myself. I thought I was stupid and that whatever I did, it was all my fault, even when I did something minor that didn't need to be corrected. I always praised her because I emulated her. She was my god and I looked up to her for everything. She had the direct line to God for my life, but I didn't. This fact was very odd because I flow in the gift of prophecy. So I could speak into other people's lives about them and I heard things about other people, but when it came to me, my discipler was my God. This is the main reason why we should seek God about who we allow to be our authorities because there are so many screwed up people that are not called to lead in the body of Christ. The bible speaks of this. At this time, I and all of my leaders were screwed up, but we were in a place for a reason, but hurt quite a few people. A few times, I explained to the director of discipleship that I was having an issue with the way I was being corrected and she would always tell me I had the problem. The problem didn't lie with my discipler. My next post will discuss me being promoted in leadership. Oh boy, I should have never accepted that position.
Thanks for reading.
I attended college right after high school; this was the first time I was away from my parents. I had goals and I was going to achieve them. Getting a break from my parents was one thing and the other was growing in my spirituality. Oh boy, I did. I lived in the dorms and I met people instantly. My personality is a little odd. I am outgoing, but I am shy. I must push myself out because if I don't, I could just stay me focused quite a bit. I wanted something different than what I was exposed to so I joined a religious organization that even claimed to be different. I knew this would push me out of my comfort zone. Little did I know I was joining a cult.
I started asking questions about the Bible and how it was supposed to be related to my life. I wanted an indepth study. It turned out that they were willing to help me and they even invited me to their church which I became a member of shortly after attending there two or three times. I maintained my membership for four and a half years. I think to date that was the longest four and a half years of my life.
After joining their church, they invited me to join the bible studies' discipleship program. They met on campus so it was very convenient. I was assigned to a discipler and we met for an hour each week. This is where the problem started. She made me feel like I was trapped. She was so good at hearing from God that she told me what God's will was for my life. It was God's will for me to be a part of that group and everyone who went to college and went to our church, it was God's will as well for them to be apart of that group. If they were not attending our group, we were not allowed to speak to them. They were in sin. I was stupid enough to believe this.
I also believed that I was bad. I was a horrible person. She didn't speak it to me out loud. She said it through her actions. Everytime my discipler corrected me, she would raise her voice at me and dramatize what I did with the inflection in her voice and make me feel like crap. I felt so embarrassed and so ashamed. I never stood up for myself. I thought I was stupid and that whatever I did, it was all my fault, even when I did something minor that didn't need to be corrected. I always praised her because I emulated her. She was my god and I looked up to her for everything. She had the direct line to God for my life, but I didn't. This fact was very odd because I flow in the gift of prophecy. So I could speak into other people's lives about them and I heard things about other people, but when it came to me, my discipler was my God. This is the main reason why we should seek God about who we allow to be our authorities because there are so many screwed up people that are not called to lead in the body of Christ. The bible speaks of this. At this time, I and all of my leaders were screwed up, but we were in a place for a reason, but hurt quite a few people. A few times, I explained to the director of discipleship that I was having an issue with the way I was being corrected and she would always tell me I had the problem. The problem didn't lie with my discipler. My next post will discuss me being promoted in leadership. Oh boy, I should have never accepted that position.
Thanks for reading.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
The Second Foundation
Life was not fun, especially while I was in school. I enjoyed reading, writing and arithmetic, but anytime I was forced to interact with my peers was beyond my comfort level. Yes, you have probably guessed it by now, I was a nerd. I was the person that got beat up just about every day. I was the person that walked down the hall and one of my peers would slap me for no reason. I didn't understand. I always thought it was my fault. Something was wrong with me.
For most of my time in elementary school, I was never the person sought after. My peers who would talk to me would only talk to me unless they needed something. I wanted more attention than what I was getting. I was always taught to try to be like the other kids at school, but I never fit their mold, but I always tried. In the fourth grade, as odd as this sounds, there were some girls who took an interest in me. We sung together and played together during recess. I thought this was weird. I never felt a closer bond in my life. I didn't understand this.
During the fifth grade, there was a little problem with my friends and me. Their friends didn't like me very much. In fact, their friends would pick on me every day. I was called names all of the time, used, pushed, spat on, etc. The sad part is that I became used to being picked on everyday. This was my normal routine. I saw nothing wrong with it. There was always something wrong with me. I didn't want to talk with my parents because they always told me that I would get in trouble at home if I got beat up or allowed someone to bully me at school. I know my parents wanted me to stand up for myself, but they never taught me how.
With my attention toward myself all of the time and needing counseling, but not wanting my parents to find out what was going on, I turned to some perverted ways against my friends. In essence, by the sixth grade, I was hanging out by myself or with people that I should not have been hanging around with at all. My friends would get to the point where they would run away from me when I came near them because of my perversion. At this young age, I began thinking about my future. Will this stop in middle school or high school? How about college? This has to stop sometime, right? Eventhough this was life was a normal routine for me, I didn't like it. At this time, books were my best friends. I would always read something or stare into space during recess just waiting for the bell to ring. Life was so lonely.
During this time in middle school, I knew God, but I didn't know how to allow Him to stand up in me. I looked to people to be my guide because that is what my mother told me. I wasn't smart enough to hear God on my own and to use the principles in the bible for myself. My mom never said this directly, but she said it every day in her actions. At this time, I wanted more than what my small church could give me. I wanted intense study, but I had to wait a little bit more time to engage in it, but believe me it came with problems of its own.
When I was in high school, I was not in one physical fight, but was verbally abused all of the time by my peers. I was called fat, ugly, stupid (lacking in common sense - part of this was true. Just like all of us, we all lack some common knowledge), etc. all of the time. I believed these words about me. I spoke these words over myself all of the time. As I did this, I became slower and slower, mentally and physically. I was in the state where I couldn't react as fast to sound as I used to when I was younger. This was a shame because I wasn't even eighteen yet.
I wasn't good at athletics eventhough I played tennis when I was in high school. I was so bad that my own team didn't want to play with me. I always showed up to practice and had a good attitude, but the people who showed up half the time played 100% better than I did so they got to play in the finals during my senior year. This is when my coach wanted to look good, I guess. My main goals were met every season. I lost weight, built muscle during my training for tennis and I won at least one game during the season. Another season, I actually one two games. That was a miracle. God works miracles every day folks. Since I didn't play well, I had to play doubles. The people who played doubles always tried to find a way out of playing with me, but the coach made them do it during the season.
In school and at home, my foundation was strengthened. I knew who I was. I was stupid, ugly, fat, and all of the negative words that you can call yourself. I ended up calling myself all of them. I was those filthy words because that was what I believed. When was I going to learn the truth about myself? There was a huge conflict in what my peers at school said about me and what people at church and what God's word said about me. During my senior year, I finally caught on a little. I started but didn't have the confidence in God to allow Him to sustain me. I wanted to please my parents and try to fit the mold that they wanted for me. I wanted to be like my older brother who was popular and could beat people up if they talked about him. I couldn't do that. I didn't know who my true self was at this time. I just believed who I was - which were words that were not true about me. I was still so self absorbed. I didn't think about others as much as I should have.
For most of my time in elementary school, I was never the person sought after. My peers who would talk to me would only talk to me unless they needed something. I wanted more attention than what I was getting. I was always taught to try to be like the other kids at school, but I never fit their mold, but I always tried. In the fourth grade, as odd as this sounds, there were some girls who took an interest in me. We sung together and played together during recess. I thought this was weird. I never felt a closer bond in my life. I didn't understand this.
During the fifth grade, there was a little problem with my friends and me. Their friends didn't like me very much. In fact, their friends would pick on me every day. I was called names all of the time, used, pushed, spat on, etc. The sad part is that I became used to being picked on everyday. This was my normal routine. I saw nothing wrong with it. There was always something wrong with me. I didn't want to talk with my parents because they always told me that I would get in trouble at home if I got beat up or allowed someone to bully me at school. I know my parents wanted me to stand up for myself, but they never taught me how.
With my attention toward myself all of the time and needing counseling, but not wanting my parents to find out what was going on, I turned to some perverted ways against my friends. In essence, by the sixth grade, I was hanging out by myself or with people that I should not have been hanging around with at all. My friends would get to the point where they would run away from me when I came near them because of my perversion. At this young age, I began thinking about my future. Will this stop in middle school or high school? How about college? This has to stop sometime, right? Eventhough this was life was a normal routine for me, I didn't like it. At this time, books were my best friends. I would always read something or stare into space during recess just waiting for the bell to ring. Life was so lonely.
During this time in middle school, I knew God, but I didn't know how to allow Him to stand up in me. I looked to people to be my guide because that is what my mother told me. I wasn't smart enough to hear God on my own and to use the principles in the bible for myself. My mom never said this directly, but she said it every day in her actions. At this time, I wanted more than what my small church could give me. I wanted intense study, but I had to wait a little bit more time to engage in it, but believe me it came with problems of its own.
When I was in high school, I was not in one physical fight, but was verbally abused all of the time by my peers. I was called fat, ugly, stupid (lacking in common sense - part of this was true. Just like all of us, we all lack some common knowledge), etc. all of the time. I believed these words about me. I spoke these words over myself all of the time. As I did this, I became slower and slower, mentally and physically. I was in the state where I couldn't react as fast to sound as I used to when I was younger. This was a shame because I wasn't even eighteen yet.
I wasn't good at athletics eventhough I played tennis when I was in high school. I was so bad that my own team didn't want to play with me. I always showed up to practice and had a good attitude, but the people who showed up half the time played 100% better than I did so they got to play in the finals during my senior year. This is when my coach wanted to look good, I guess. My main goals were met every season. I lost weight, built muscle during my training for tennis and I won at least one game during the season. Another season, I actually one two games. That was a miracle. God works miracles every day folks. Since I didn't play well, I had to play doubles. The people who played doubles always tried to find a way out of playing with me, but the coach made them do it during the season.
In school and at home, my foundation was strengthened. I knew who I was. I was stupid, ugly, fat, and all of the negative words that you can call yourself. I ended up calling myself all of them. I was those filthy words because that was what I believed. When was I going to learn the truth about myself? There was a huge conflict in what my peers at school said about me and what people at church and what God's word said about me. During my senior year, I finally caught on a little. I started but didn't have the confidence in God to allow Him to sustain me. I wanted to please my parents and try to fit the mold that they wanted for me. I wanted to be like my older brother who was popular and could beat people up if they talked about him. I couldn't do that. I didn't know who my true self was at this time. I just believed who I was - which were words that were not true about me. I was still so self absorbed. I didn't think about others as much as I should have.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
I remember when I was a little girl and I was so spoiled with gifts from my mom and dad. I was the youngest and the only girl so how could they resist me. I was so lovable. I played games with my mom and dad, such as solitaire and spades at night when they weren't too tired. I knew they loved me. Being spoiled, I ate quite a bit and watched television. Instead of playing with my parents, television was my next favorite activity. This helped me to gain a considerable amount of weight. I had issues with finding clothes just about everytime I go shopping.
When I was in the forth grade, my school required us to wear uniforms and this helped to put a strain on my relationship with my parents. When I went shopping with my mom, she would get so upset when I couldn't find clothes that wouldn't fit me correctly that she would poke me in the stomach and tell me I needed to lose weight. I would go to the car crying while she purchased some clothes that were too big or small for me to stop the fighting. She would tell my dad about our shopping trip when we got home and my dad would tease me. He would say, I am going to be so big that I will not be able to walk out the front door of my house. They told me that I was going to have diabetes and other health problems. Their comments hurt me so badly.
When I was in middle school, I remember going to the park with my brother and dad. My brother was training for football and my dad thought it would be good for me if I trained with him because I was so fat. My dad would always make me run laps around the park with my brother and do exercises with him. It got to the point where I would tell him I didn't want to go to the park so he would trick me into going. I hated him at that time. I would kick, scream and cry. I hated him for this. He would tell me that since I was a certain age that I should have been able to run certain amounts of laps and I couldn't because I was not as physically fit as my brother who was training for football.
I know my parents just wanted me to take those comments as constructive criticism and lose weight, but the comments had the opposite effect on me. I grew bigger and bigger. While I never weighed over 240 lbs, I was still bigger than I needed to be. I would buy sweets and hide them in my room. When I asked my dad to stop making fun of me, he wouldn't let me speak. He would cut me off in the midst of my sentence. There were different times in my life when I tried to lose weight, but I would think about my parent's comments and I would eat more. I would allow myself to get bigger. At this time in my life at the age of ten, I believed that what I had to say was not important.
When I was in the forth grade, my school required us to wear uniforms and this helped to put a strain on my relationship with my parents. When I went shopping with my mom, she would get so upset when I couldn't find clothes that wouldn't fit me correctly that she would poke me in the stomach and tell me I needed to lose weight. I would go to the car crying while she purchased some clothes that were too big or small for me to stop the fighting. She would tell my dad about our shopping trip when we got home and my dad would tease me. He would say, I am going to be so big that I will not be able to walk out the front door of my house. They told me that I was going to have diabetes and other health problems. Their comments hurt me so badly.
When I was in middle school, I remember going to the park with my brother and dad. My brother was training for football and my dad thought it would be good for me if I trained with him because I was so fat. My dad would always make me run laps around the park with my brother and do exercises with him. It got to the point where I would tell him I didn't want to go to the park so he would trick me into going. I hated him at that time. I would kick, scream and cry. I hated him for this. He would tell me that since I was a certain age that I should have been able to run certain amounts of laps and I couldn't because I was not as physically fit as my brother who was training for football.
I know my parents just wanted me to take those comments as constructive criticism and lose weight, but the comments had the opposite effect on me. I grew bigger and bigger. While I never weighed over 240 lbs, I was still bigger than I needed to be. I would buy sweets and hide them in my room. When I asked my dad to stop making fun of me, he wouldn't let me speak. He would cut me off in the midst of my sentence. There were different times in my life when I tried to lose weight, but I would think about my parent's comments and I would eat more. I would allow myself to get bigger. At this time in my life at the age of ten, I believed that what I had to say was not important.
Friday, December 11, 2009
From Victim to Victor….
I have always been a victim for as long as I can remember. It is not always fun, but it is pretty comfortable. You might be saying to yourself right now, you wimp, just stand up for yourself. That is what all of my counselors and mentors have probably wanted to tell me, but didn't. They knew they had a bigger job to do before they got to that part.
Being a victim is an outcome. The real source of the problem for me were words and phrases that I believed about myself that were not true. These words have been spoken verbally and nonverbally to me my whole life. It was and is hard to break these word curses that I have believed to be true, but I am doing it. I have never felt so much peace in my life, but more peace is on the way for me.
The following posts will be the highlights of my life so far. I am only 26 years old. I believe wholeheartedly there is a reason for every situation I've been in. Sharing my story will give glory to God and it will also encourage someone else. God has a great purpose and a great plan for me know matter what happens to me and how much I screw up. He loves me and He loves you too.
All of the names of people and places will be changed to protect people who may get offended or upset from actions they regret taking.
Thank you for reading.
Being a victim is an outcome. The real source of the problem for me were words and phrases that I believed about myself that were not true. These words have been spoken verbally and nonverbally to me my whole life. It was and is hard to break these word curses that I have believed to be true, but I am doing it. I have never felt so much peace in my life, but more peace is on the way for me.
The following posts will be the highlights of my life so far. I am only 26 years old. I believe wholeheartedly there is a reason for every situation I've been in. Sharing my story will give glory to God and it will also encourage someone else. God has a great purpose and a great plan for me know matter what happens to me and how much I screw up. He loves me and He loves you too.
All of the names of people and places will be changed to protect people who may get offended or upset from actions they regret taking.
Thank you for reading.
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