A Treasury of Trust

No deposit was ever made in me as a child from my parents that would have led me to believe in trust.

That’s a great big inadequacy in a human being. Another broken spot. Another spec folks find in me and place additional blame and just another place to find no meaning.

As I sat in the corner of our living room hugging my knees staring up at my bedroom watching this strange woman being raped, I was not only convinced that no safety existed for me but I watched that scenario play out over and over in this reoccurring nightmare I had my entire childhood.

You can only give what you have received in life, right?

How then do you trust or even give trust if you don’t know what it looks like? I am now tasked with the job of trusting other human beings.

Why on earth would I do that? What the fuck for?

I have no memories I can go back to that shows trust from the very people that were entrusted to care for me. They didn’t even love me how was I supposed to come away from their home knowing what trust meant?

Well, I suppose I did trust. Trust means a belief in the reliability, truth, or strength of someone or something. So, I did trust.

I relied on my parents ability to deny me any good. I had a strong reliability in knowing that my parents would call me a liar if I ever tried to ask anybody for help. And, they absolutely did. So, in these cases, trust worked very well for me.

I trusted that most people have betrayal written into their DNA. I rely on the ability of people to be deceitful and lie when it suits them. I know that people usually have the ability to show up not having my best interest in play.

So, I guess I do trust.

What I have learned on this vast road of redeeming my life into something valuable, is that everything I once knew seems to now be the exact opposite. What I have to do to live free and whole is in direct opposition from everything I once believed was true.

What a dichotomy my life seems to be.

I’m now taught not to dissociate, but stay present. Don’t look at people with fear but trust them. Don’t use any substance that will make you feel calm. Stay agitated.

All the many rules.

My heart understands them but I long to be free. I long to be free from the turmoil of making my life better. I want to be free from the burden of constantly trying to be a better person.

I get tired.

And, then I hear my Lord speak to me. He always tells me it’s ok. It’s ok that I’m not good at trusting. It’s okay that I have a glass of wine in the evening. It’s ok that I’m not good enough by other peoples’ standards. I am good enough for Him. He sees me through His own eyes of love and acceptance.

Now, if I could just get the other judgmental voices to be still.

Originally published at http://prisonerbynocrimeofmyown.com on October 30, 2020.