The Tearing of the Soul/ 3

 Journal # 3

"Let him turn away from evil and do good; let him seek peace and pursue it." (1 Peter 3:11-NKJV)

When I was almost thirteen most of the overt rebellious behavior had dissipated but the nightmares persisted. I was in the last year of primary school, I referred to as my prison. There was an important exam I had to take to be assessed to meet the requirements for secondary education in my country. I had only one opportunity, since I was kept back in one grade. We had three choices to determine our placement and where we would attend high school, if we were unsuccessful in achieving a passing grade we would have to pay tuition or drop out of school. Now the system has changed. But in my time it was only those who were proficient that received the coveted schools of their choice. If any student did not qualify they had only two choices and there was an element of shame and deficiency in this area. Because of my poor performance at school I was placed in a lower functioning class instead of a higher functioning class. I already began to see myself diminished each year I attended school. The teachers drilled us for this exam. On the day of the exam I was pretty worn out and very anxious. I had to walk to school at the examination site where I hoped I would pass, and allow me to enter this high school.

As I sat at the desk I felt my hands clammy and cold and my heart was racing as if it was about to jump out of my chest. I tried to take deep breaths and to talk myself in calming down. The exam proctor placed the test at each desk and we all had to follow the strict guidelines. We were allowed two pencils, an eraser and a sharpener and we were not to make any eye contact with anyone but to keep our eyes on our papers. The test began and I froze. I could not retrieve any of the material I was drilled on at school. As the time moved laboriously forward, I became numb and I began to randomly select answers on the multiple choice exam. In the back of my mind I knew I had already failed the exam. I could not recall one answer and everything around me became hollow as if I was in a deep fog, in a tunnel of delayed time. The cold hand of fear gripped me and had me in a vice I could not escape. Naturally, I was relieved when it was all over. 

As I arrived at home I went straight to my bedroom and laid on the bed for a long time. A couple of months later the results were published in the local newspaper. This to me was a very barbaric, torturous and shaming way to publish the results of an exam that not everyone will pass. I got the section of the paper where the results were published and I painstakingly probed the names looking for my name. I never found my name. Eventually, my parents contacted the school I attended and they received the results. I did not pass the exam. My father was livid and my mother was sympathetic, but they were both disappointed. My father declared that day he would not waste his money to send me to another school for me to be a failure. He kept his word. Mother enrolled me into a private high school but she had to pay the tuition without any financial help from my father. I remained in that school for just under three years because I did not do well there either. I still had problems focusing and retaining information I had learned at school. I was in this cycle of despair, anxiety and rebellion like a hamster in a cage going nowhere. Mother decided to take me out from there and she placed me in a secretarial school, which was a business college. They taught beginners basic business Math, English, typing, shorthand and other related subjects. I was given a tutor to sit with me to help me. It worked somewhat but I did not like the typing and the shorthand. I did my best.

I was still attending church, going to confession and doing my penance. Yet, the nightmares were relentless. Some of the youths in the neighborhood called me names because of some of the things I did when I was younger. I felt shame and guilt and I avoided them at all cost. I still spent a great deal of time with my best friend and I had been solidified as part of their family. They accepted me for who I was and embraced me flaws and all. Growing up in my own household was not too pleasant. I fought with my brother over a bird cage. I took advantage of them. I did not like my younger sister because she received what I never got from our father, his affection and attention. I was the odd man out so to speak. I fought with another neighbor who I thought was my friend. I was sexually abused at the hands of one of my neighbors at nine years old. I never told a soul. One day I was coming home from school and a man came up to me, a complete stranger and assaulted me a few feet from my home. I did not tell anyone. But I became more cautious. A neighbor across the street decided I was going to be his wife and every time I came out of the house to visit my best friend he would try to accost me. I did not like it at all and I tried to speak to his older sister about it. He will stop and then start up again. I was branded the black sheep of the family because of my rebellion and my behavior. Life went on as usual.

At nineteen my aunt told my mother about a vacancy at the local newspaper and I applied. I met with the manager, Mr. Philips and he liked me and decided to hire me. He instructed my aunt to orient me and she did. I worked at the advertising department and was responsible for placing death and birth announcements, answering the phones and helping my aunt sometimes with balancing the ledger; she taught me. I did pretty well. I stayed there for about nine months and I heard of a better paying opportunity and went for an interview. I was hired as an executive secretary, so some of my skills I learned earlier came in handy. But my boss was a tickler to perfection. One of my assignments was to type out quotations without an error. We sold technical safety equipment, intercoms and stuff like that. I had to receive and answer calls and make calls for my boss, the usual stuff. But I hated speaking on the phone it provoked my anxiety at times and I will start to stutter. I began this bad habit at age eight and continued until adulthood. It was only noticeable during an anxiety provoking situation. I had to write down everything someone said because I would not remember the sequence of the conversation or events. That was due to my lack of sleep and continued night terrors and fear.

I remained at my job as secretary and decided to interview for another job that was paying better. My father had a friend who worked at this agency and he was one of the accountants, an important figure at the time. I was two months pregnant at the time and I told him as much. He still hired me and I remained at that job for almost twelve years until I was phased out. My assignment was redundant because the agency had become computerized. So a few of us lost our jobs. In those twelve years I learned a great deal about myself, about those around me and my relationships. I learned not everyone was my friend, not everyone I can share my personal information with and not everyone can be trusted to do the right thing. At that time I decided to get into modeling and attended a modeling school in a different city. It was fun for a while but I was told I had to lose weight to be a runway model but as I did I got sick and had to go to a doctor. I quit modeling school. That was the time I met my husband. When I was working as the executive secretary I would walk home for lunch at times. I did not have a car as yet, so I walked to and from work to my house. This man, who became my husband would try to engage me in conversation when he drove to work and I was walking the same path he traveled. Later, after, I had my child his brother began to work in the same agency I worked at. He told me his brother would like me to call him and he gave me his number. That was the beginning of the end or was it the beginning of a new life after the end of this marriage.

I now know in retrospect the enemy was after my soul and my life and he did everything to destroy me and destroy my children. My life was one humongous stronghold perpetuated by the devil. I was helping him succeed because I did not know he existed. I thought God was punishing me for all the bad things I had done in the past and that was why I could not ever stand on solid ground. Every place I stood upon was shaky constantly shifting, unstable and I was going to slip into oblivion. And it was only a matter of time. The word "rebellion" is associated with the word "revolt," it is an act of treason against something or someone. Even though I attended church I never learned how to identify my true enemy of my soul or how to defeat him or what Jesus had already done for me. I never learned I can be successful and live a life made in heaven. All my adult life I struggled immensely. Sometimes I wonder what will happen to me if I don't get it together. I was in a murky pond with piranhas looking for food and only finding me. Have I become my own god? Did I believe in God or some version of Him? Was I revolting against God and how was I doing it?

Heavenly Father, thank You for helping me recall these testimonies as closely I can recall them. I know in retrospect I was never alone. Even though You remained silent all those years, Your eyes were upon me. So I can live to tell my story of a Loving, Merciful Savior. Thank You for your grace, mercy and love. In Jesus' Name.