Dealing is the Path to Healing

/ Nicole Bartell / 2 Comments

With the release of Rachel Denhollander’s book What Is A Girl Worth?, she has been on the circuit speaking openly about the abuse she suffered while under the “care” of Larry Nasser. I have been following her and her journey as I am in the process of dealing with my own abuse, and the effect it still has on my life today. Rachel was on CBS This Morning a few days ago, and there was something she said in the course of this interview that resonated with me.

The interviewer read this quote from her book: “If you can’t prove it, don’t speak up because it will cost you everything.” She responded, “That’s a lesson every sexual assault survivor knows. We watch how sexual assault is discussed when it comes up in the political sphere, when it comes up with a prominent sports figure, and we see what people say about the survivors. We see how they rally around the person who’s been the abuser, and we know it’s not safe to speak up.”

I have acknowledged the abuse done to me for decades. I have admitted openly since the summer of 1985 what happened to me. Thankfully, my parents believed me. There were many in my life, however, that either didn’t or told me not to keep making such a big deal out of it. There were even some who spoke sympathy to my abuser. That fall, I started a new school where I was ridiculed and bullied for sharing my trauma. I learned quickly that I would not be believed, so why tell the truth? That nine year old little girl took that to heart, even lying to myself that I didn’t need to deal with it. And there I remained…held captive by the lie that if I didn’t think about it, it wouldn’t affect me.

I am now a 43 year old woman, still dealing with the pain of a nine year old girl who is struggling to feel worth and to accept that she is valued. As many abuse survivors experience, I went on to allow others to manipulate and abuse me out of fear of being rejected. Recovery has led me to face the lies that I have believed about myself; that I am unworthy of love, that I don’t deserve to be valued, that I am worthless and ugly. Digging down to the roots of these beliefs and seeing how the abuse and neglect I have experienced contributed to how I see myself has been one of the most difficult parts of my recovery. The hardest part of the Serenity Prayer for me to accept has been, “accepting hardship as the pathway to peace.” I have spent a lifetime hiding from my pain, avoiding it at all costs. I want to crawl into my DADDY’S lap and not deal with it, but He is lovingly whispering to that little girl that the only way to healing is through the pain. He promises to hold me. He promises to get me through. He promises that I am not and will never be alone.

I can only hope that He will one day use this to speak hope and life and peace to others. That one day, I will walk in freedom and healing and someone will look at me and have hope that the same is possible for them.

No More Mask

/ Nicole Bartell / 2 Comments

A few years ago, I was drowning in depression.  I can’t count the number of times I considered taking my own life which only compounded the depression because of the shame that, as a Christian, I should not even consider that, right?  But in that dark hole, all I could think was that I wanted the visceral pain I felt to stop.  I wanted my heart to stop hurting.  All I could see was the pain.  I could barely function, could barely get out of bed and take care of my family.  I tried to hide from the pain; in reading, in food, in anything that would take my mind off it and distract me for even a moment.  But inevitably, that moment came when I had to take a break from those activities, and there the pain would be again, closer than the breath I was trying to drag into my lungs.  It was a physical vise wrapped around me that I could not shake.  I pulled away from everything.  I stopped going to church because I felt guilty.  I stopped singing because I had no song.  I just wanted it all to end.

Then, I received notice that my sister-in-law had taken her life.  This devastated me.  I knew she was struggling because we had talked about it.  To hear that her despair and loneliness had driven her to such an act shook me to the soul.   Sitting at her memorial, hearing my precious niece express her grief and uncertainty why her love for her mother wasn’t enough to keep her there, I looked to my left and saw my baby boy and knew…I NEVER wanted to put him in that situation.  When we came home, I contacted my doctor and started taking anti-depressants. That was the beginning of my recovery journey.

There is this stigma in the church that if you struggle with depression, or any mental health issue, that you don’t have enough faith. This was part of the shame that kept me out of church. I did not feel free to be able to be open about my struggles, either the pain I felt or the coping mechanisms I had developed over my life to self-medicate. I would walk into church and put on a mask that I was okay, I was a “good” Christian. Until I couldn’t hide it anymore. Then, rather than admit my struggles and ask for help, I hid because I did not want to be judged. I did not want to be weighed in the balance of others’ opinions and found wanting.

Coming to Celebrate Recovery a little over a year ago was so renewing for me. It was hard walking through those doors for the first time, and I was absolutely certain there would be no one there that struggled like I did. What I found was a group of people just like me, struggling with pain and desperate to get out of the bondage to coping strategies that never really worked. I found a safe place where I could be myself; fears, failures, warts, and all; and still be loved, be accepted, be understood and supported, even without my mask. This is what I want for the church as a whole.

So, this is me…taking off the mask…daring to be who I am, discovering who God created me to be, and living it out…one day at a time, one moment at a time.