Like A Record Skipping On Its Turntable Part 1

Something had been nagging at me to write this out.  I'm going to be showering about an hour before bed, still reeking of work but I felt like I needed to do this.  Usually when it's something very personal, I write it out onto a flashdrive to work out anger, depression, to maybe help me see some prespective.  I later delete it all when I'm feeling better.  However, I was hoping this might be of use to others.  For me, it has always helped to know I'm not the only one suffering through such irrational mess.  

This turned out to be just over five pages (!!!!) on Word, so I've split it into two parts.  



I’ve never apologized for who I am, which is one of the reasons I may not have any friends.  Shawn is my best friend, my mother is a close second.  I rarely speak to my sister, sometimes at family gatherings.  There’s no grudge there, we just don’t anything in common other than our mother.

Yeah, I’m loud, opinionated and I rarely think before I speak  This is difficult for me because I was raised in a strong Christian home and I always thought if I acted more like a Christian ought to act, maybe I could make a friend before I die.  Friendships are overrated.  Just one more way to get hurt.

So I’ve never apologized for who I am though I do hope you forgive me if I am coming off as “preachy”.  I do not mean to sound “preachy”, I merely wanted to explain something fascinating that’s happened to me over the last few weeks.  As you might’ve already read about my mood swings and severe depression, you know by now that I make no effort to hide myself.  There are plenty others who go through what I go through, and it always helps to know you’re not the only one out there suffering through the same mess.

Shawn and I had a HUGE fight beginning somewhere around March 15th and wrapping itself up late Sunday night, March 21st.  Even though we had settled and things had been resolved, I could not help but stew over things.

This went on for about two weeks straight.  I may have mentioned that while at work, I have nothing to occupy my brain.  So when a thought enters my head, it plays over and over and over, like record skipping on a turntable.  That’s annoying by itself, but imagine it being one, painful thought, torturing you all day, everyday.

Maybe I had not yet forgiven him.  Maybe I had and was simply still angry that we continue to have this fight.  Somewhere near the end of the second week, or maybe even possibly into the beginning of the third week, I’d just had it.

I can remember sermons being preached about banishing evil spirits.  Not everything evil is like the movie Poltergeist, I assure you.  And I’m not talking about sending legions of demons into a herd of swine.  This had become much simpler than that.

Something had seemingly taken over my thought process and I had let it.  I could not let this go, no matter how hard I tried.  But there it was.  It was I that was trying.  I searched my memory for past sermons I had heard as a kid and as an adult and I prayed I would do it correctly.  I had to try it; I was desperately tortured and the problem was that I was trying to take care of on my own.

I stood over the spotting board at work, working on a stain and prayed silently.  I asked Jesus to forgive me of my sins, sincerely, and I prayed for strength.

In the name of Jesus I command you to leave my thoughts.  I command you to immediately leave my head and leave me alone, by the blood of Christ, that was shed for me.  You have no power over me; I am a child of God and I belong to God and you shall not harm me!  You will leave and never come back.  I have the power of God in me because Christ shed his blood for my sins and by that power I demand that you leave!

This went on for about ten minuets.  I looked down at the stained shirt and had seen that I was merely drying a wet spot that had dried several minuets ago.

Immediately, I felt lighter than air.  I cannot fully explain it.  I felt as though load of cinder blocks had been lifted from my back.  I was elated.  I felt….

Free.

That, in itself is the only word that can really come close to describing what I had felt.  I was free from this mental torture.  It has not come back as of yet while I write this.


On another note, something else happened.  I am beginning to sense a trend here, as though there are unseen forces working to destroy either me and Shawn, or rather, just me.

Something that Shawn said in our last huge fight had hung onto me and I wanted to know more.  He works in apartment maintenance, which means he regularly goes into people’s homes.  I’m not naïve.  I know he sees things.  I know how women are these days and how aggressive they can be.  I questioned him about it on Friday, in a friendly, non-confrontational way.

He told me a couple of stories and I accepted them.  Of course the next day I was a wreck.  I found myself crying, hard, and after some reassurance and loving, kind words, I was alright.  Sunday morning, it started again.  Shawn was still sleeping while I tooled around the internet, making sure our online customers were happy and checking for orders.  The record continued to skip.

This time I became angry.  I prayed a prayer similar to what I had done at work, but this time, I did not ask politely.  I was downright ticked off!  The dog was so freaked out by my anger, she ran off to the living room.

Afterward, and for the rest of the day, I was alright.