I received another email recently and it pulled at my heart-strings in such a way that I wept. Another beautiful soul with so many questions… another survivor looking for answers…
While trying to respond to this email, I realized that I have yet to directly answer some things or put them to paper. It made me wonder if perhaps that is why I also struggle with trying to help people via email. It seems I do well to comfort and ease your pain in person and sure, I can write and speak about my stories now, but how do I teach that to other people? How do I articulate the process that has helped me move on in life in order to help others do the same? Why do I get hung up on this part of things? After all, I am a writer!
Then I felt an old familiar friend nudging me in the side. Insecurity tells me I am no one and nothing to be teaching others, while fear tells me I am not adequate or smart enough to help anyone, and blah, blah, blah… you know how it goes. The only part I have never had a problem with is feeling qualified. I don’t care how many degrees you may have, if you haven’t lived it, you are not as qualified as you think. You are not as qualified as another person who has lived through those things. Oh, that brings to mind something wonderful I heard this week:
God doesn’t call the qualified
He qualifies the called!
Anyways, this person’s email and questions got me thinking in so many different directions it isn’t even funny. Here is the basis of what was asked:
- How am I able to write about my stories when it means re-living them all over again?
- How did I get past all the memories?
- How does one get past that point, to where I am now, of really living again?
- How do you let the fight “fuel you” instead of “drain you?”
There was more to this email obviously, but you can imagine the types of thoughts and feelings that might accompany such questions, especially if you have been a victim yourself. This person, like so many others, has a desire to tell their story and find healing, but struggles with the possibility of having to re-live the events in order to do so.
How do you get past it?
How do you move on?
It made me realize I could write an answer that seems to never end, so in an effort to process some of this myself, I’m going to break things up into different posts during the week. I have no idea how many that will be, since I have no outline or anything, but I’ve been learning about how a blog should read differently than a book anyways so I’ll do my best (I guess that makes sense.)
We’re going to call this series, “How To Move On” (a guide to help victims become survivors). It seems fitting enough and should be an interesting venture as I’m still in the middle of understanding much of it myself.