She told me that God showed her that I had built a wall around myself, and I could no longer see out. When I thought I was looking at God, I was looking at my own reflection in the wall, and essentially I had become my own god. So since I didn't have any love for myself, I saw God as having no love for me. After she said that I realized that when I was counseling with John, I was bringing up all these woundings that I had no clue how to handle, so I built a wall around myself -- the same wall that I wore from 4th to 10th grade, which God and I tore down together 5.5 years ago. Now it's back, and stronger than before, but this time it's between me and God instead of me and people. And I have to go through the dismantling again. And I have to trust and believe to even begin. Yet her seeing that gave me hope -- because I had proof of a sort that it wasn't that God didn't love me, but that I was blocking out his love. And I felt the truth in it.
Far more frightening, I realized that I had become convinced that God wanted me to go through what I went through, because deep down I believe that he doesn't care how I feel, but merely how he can use me to get his work done (because duh, that's how my dad treated me -- he told me repeatedly that he didn't care how I felt, he just cared that I did what I was told). And I'm somewhat convinced that after I'm healed he's going to want me to sacrifice myself for the sake of others, because he doesn't consider my body important. Now with my MIND I know he's not like that, but my feelings are independent of my mind on this subject.
Patricia actually cares about me. She's so patient, and I'm so real with her. I don't try to withhold my feelings for fear of offending or irritating her, and she accepts me and continues to treat me with kind honor; she never skips over any statement I make, but treats everything I say as important. She never wavers in her belief that God loves me (and herself), and that helps me to come closer to believing. And she says the word 'shit' with nary a stammer nor blush. Now that is the kind of counselor I want to be when I'm healed!
She's making me read this book that I don't like though. It's about a woman who was abused and healed -- and forgave her parents (dad abused her for 15 years, mom knew about it) BEFORE THEY REPENTED. What the fuckin fuckity fuck?
I'm totally a Jonah on this right now. (Jonah was a man whom God sent to tell a city to repent or He'd kill them, but Jonah didn't want them to repent and be saved. Jonah wanted them to get what they deserved for being such wicked horrid people, so he ran away. God had to shipwreck him and have a whale swallow him before he agreed to go -- and he spent two days in the whale's belly getting convinced. When Jonah finally went and told them, they all repented immediately, which REALLY pissed him off.) I don't want victimizers to be forgiven. I don't want anyone to show them love ever. I want them to live horrible miserable lives and die and be tormented forever and ever. But God doesn't want that. I think I'm in the whale's belly right now, just got swallowed. It's gonna be a looooooooong two (or more) days.
P.S. sorry about the no comments lately -- I'll get to it tomorrow hopefully.