When it Hurts so Bad You Just Have to Scream
By: Susan Deborah Schiller
In the series, "Conversations with Daddy"
My heart was like molten lava, just exploding and pouring out. I had escaped from one sociopath, after 20-years of abuse, into another trap, but the excruciating pain was my heartache for my children. The pain was always there, but it crested in waves, and in between the waves I screamed.
"Why did you have to scream?" someone recently asked. I replied, "A mother's heart boils with rage when her children are molested, and nothing but a scream will release the rage out of the core of her being. Can you contain a volcano? No, the lava rushes out, cascading down the mountain. Only a scream releases the pent up rage. It's a righteous anger, like the exploding of emotions Jesus must have felt that caused him to whip the money changers, overturning their tables in the temple."
I wrote in my journal, that day back in 2003:
Father, my heart grieves inconsolably for my children. How I wish I could remove the deceiver's influence on them. Father, please… please.
"Do you, yet, wish to serve Me? You see the suffering it brings."
With all my heart, my Lord. By Your grace alone. Yes, Lord, I want to finish the race. Please give me courage and strength. Establish me in Your truth. I want to be well-grounded. Go in deeper. I need more of You. I'm yours. Take me wherever you want.
"Chosen one, hold hands with me – the King. Walk and talk with Me. You need to see Me as I am – totally sufficient. I know where I'm taking you. I've already pointed you in the right direction. Peace, I say. Don't hold on to the things of this world. Let go completely so I may take you higher.
"The full scope of what I offer you is unfolding. My peace and joy are yours for the asking. All you've hoped for and dreamed of are yours for the asking."
Father, where I stumble most is trusting You for my children.
"I love them, do I not? I cherish them far beyond your capaicity to love and care for them. What do you think they need?"
Kindness, true friends who have empathy.
"And much more, don't you think?"
Father, please give them everything they need to live in Your kingdom.
"Make tiny investments into their lives. Don't strive to be their hero. Just go about normal daily business. I'll prepare their hearts as you have asked.
"Come to Me, my child, and lay your head on my breast. I have much more comfort to give you, Little One. Terrible things have happened, and still more terrrible things are to come, but there is space now to breathe.
Enjoy My Kingdom – enter into My rest. This place is yours to enjoy new life. Cares exchanged for peace. Mourning turned into joy. You have not been abandoned. I hold you safe in My arms."
Rest… safety… peace… this is being home.
George MacDonald, in his book, "Lilith," helped me to understand that we cannot begin to understand ourselves and our true purpose in this world until we find ourselves at Home. We cannot begin to do the work we've been designed to do until we learn to rest.
One survivor told me she feels guilty for her anger. For shouldn't a daughter love her abuser, even if he's consumed by evil? We are taught to love and bless our enemies, right?
False guilt dams up righteous anger and instead you have a smoking volcano whose explosion will be all the more furious later on. Or it may cause insult to injury by making you sick: cancer, MS, fibromyalgia, and all number of woes.
Don't feel guilty for the rage! Get even more angry and let it out! Our screams are heard in heaven and in hell.
Let's watch out for each other, as a friend did for me this week. He saw I wasn't myself and asked what was eating at me. I repelled him. I didn't want anyone to see the inside of my volcano. But he persisted, gently.
He had me sit down next to an open window. The scent of a nearby pine tree got me to breathe deeply. Gently but persistently he asked questions to lift the stopper off my internal volcano. It takes a real friend to do dangerous work like that. And it takes courage to trust someone to do that for you, because sometimes you just can't do it yourself. We need our friends. This is not a path you should walk alone.
My friend simply listened and reminded me to breathe. God used him to uncork my volcano. If we don't uncork, physical symptoms can appear – disease is created.
This battle is real. The stress had suddenly brought all my fibromyalgia symptoms back, so much so that I was limping. A family member suggested I sign up for disability. I internally SCREAMED NO!
The symptoms disappeared. I can walk again with no pain. But strange red claw marks have raked my thigh. Demonic torment left its mark but the pain is gone. The battle is real. Sometimes you need to scream. Those bottled up emotions inside your internal volcano need to be safely released.
I know of so many victims who have suffered from cancer, fibromyalgia, and a host of other diseases. Another big help, for me, has been Wholetones. I'm not just someone writing about recovery from sociopathic abuse, I'm not a counselor or health care practioner, I'm in the midst of the battle, myself.
To be perfectly honest with you, most counselors today do not understand face-to-face encounters with pure evil. The best help I have found is to share our stories with people who intimately understand the struggle… who know that we just need to uncork the internal volcano. We mainly need to be understood and loved through the mess.
Sometimes only a scream will do. Tell your story and don't be afraid of your emotions erupting in and through the explosion of words. Love overcomes all evil.
With all my love,
Susan Schiller knows how it feels to lose everything: marriage and family, church and reputation, finances and businesses, and more. Susan's upcoming, interactive memoir, "On the Way Home," tells the story of how she came to be known as "the most abused woman" her counselors had yet met and how she is learning to navigate to freedom and fullness.
Today Susan helps people write their life stories, unearthing the treasures of their past and sowing them into their future, creating new family legacies.
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