Worth the price

In earlier posts about borderline and in my most recent post about bullying, you might have read about the darkest moments in my life. I'm almost 30 years old, and when I look back at my childhood and youth, I feel like it's been bad all along, but this might be the picture at this moment in time. It's just that I've always been different, especially when I compare myself with my sister and peers. I'm not saying that I had an unhappy childhood, but it wasn't always easy. I was very introverted, and that has only changed since I've lived in the Netherlands. When I was angry or sad, I always clenched my teeth and felt the pain, anger and/or sadness, but I refused to let it out. That's why everybody always thought I was a happy and carefree child. 

   
However, that was far from true. I can still remember one of the most disappointing and troublesome moments of my childhood. That was when I was only 7 years old. My granddad died and that was the first time I was confronted with death. My parents didn't allow me to see him on his deathbed because they thought I would be frightened. I still reproach them for not having been able to really say goodbye to him. However, when I was about 9, my great-grandmother died, and then it was different: I could pay her a last visit. Everybody was amazed about my way of dealing with that situation. I went to her bed, touched her cold hands and face and asked my mom if I could give her a kiss. When I was 12, my other great-grandmother died, and I noticed that every time somebody I loved died, it got more and more difficult and painful. I can't cope with people and animals dying. People can't imagine how a child deals with this kind of situations, but I remember each and every one of these moments very well, including how my mom told me that somebody had died. It made me very sad, although I was still that young. And I wasn't allowed to cry, because my mom had to cry when she saw that I was sad. So she kind of forbade me to cry, she couldn't deal with the pain I felt. And that's how it's always been, we're symbiotically connected to each other. Symbiosis is a relationship in which the one can't live without the other, however difficult it may sometimes be to be together. There can raise conflicts and the like, but in some way or the other, you can't live with each other, nor without each other.

Then, when I was a teenager, I loved studying, I even did some extra-curricular stuff, and yes, some fellow students thought that was a good reason to ridicule me. When I was 10 years old, I started studying dinosaurs. I continued doing this until I was about 16. From that moment on, astronomy and Spanish took over from the dinosaurs. However, when puberty began, I was a very calm and seemingly cheerful youngster. I never caused any trouble, nor at home, nor at school, nor at the trampoline club, while my sister, who is six years older than me, was a regular adolescent in the sense that she did have her whims and she did express her feelings - she was an example adolescent, let's say. I spent most of the time in my room, alone, already when I was very young. And all that time I spent studying, reading, writing, you name it. I got excellent grades, but my teachers were worried that I didn't play enough (that was actually the only remark on the first report I got with a perfect score). In fact, I didn't really like playing, except with Lego. Then I constructed a city of my own, and I made up an entire story. I wrote three children's books - when I was 10, 11 and 12 respectively - and my dream was to become a writer or a professor. Anyway, it feels like all my life and since I was very young I've said yes and amen to everybody, without ever putting myself first. I've kept all my problems for myself, for too long, it seems now. But all the people around me saw me as a happy and cheerful child, while in fact I could be very, very sad and unhappy.

And then, at secondary school, at the age of 16, everything changed dramatically and irrevocably. I couldn't deal with my emotions anymore, especially because of the exclusion and bullying of a few of my peers. I don't know how, but somehow I managed to survive for more than a year in that class. It all went wrong in May 2000. That was when I got suicidal for the first time. I wanted to jump off the stairs at school, in order to kill myself. A teacher dragged me up the stairs to a special room where students with problems could get theirselves together again. I remember that she was in fact pretty mad. It was my religion's teacher, and I told her I didn't want to live anymore. I lost friends, they thought my behaviour was irrational. And they were right, it was. But it got even worse when I was admitted to a psychiatric hospital. You know that story, don't you?

Anyway, right now I can only praise God for all the blessings in my life. Sounds weird after such an introduction? It might... But, you know, dear reader, if I hadn't ended up in that horrible class, I'd probably never have been here in the Netherlands right now. Now my English teacher is going to like the next part, because let's construct IF-sentences:

If I had never been in that horrible class, and if I hadn't been such an introverted person, ánd if I hadn't had the genes for the Borderline Personality Disorder, I would never have become so depressed. If I hadn't become so depressed, I wouldn't have become a psychiatric patient. If I hadn't become a psychiatric patient, I'd never have ended up in that psychiatric ward of a regular hospital, and later on, via the psychiatrist of that ward, in a psychiatric youth clinic. If I hadn't been admitted to that clinic, and if all those horrific things - about which you can read in another post - hadn't happened there, I'd never have wanted to move to a place far, far away from that horrible place. If I'd never had that feeling to get away ASAP from that terrible place, I'd never have had plans to move to the Netherlands. And if I'd never begun studying astronomy when I was 16 years old, I'd never have been interested in studying astronomy for real. The combination of my interest in astronomy and the desire to get away from Belgium ASAP led to my moving to Leiden. If I hadn't been a psychiatric patient already, I'd never have ended up at the Emergency Room, where I met my former and wonderful psychiatrist I admire so much. If we hadn't met there, I'd probably never have been referred to the clinic - a day-care centre - in Oegstgeest. If I hadn't been referred to that clinic, I wouldn't have come to the conclusion that I was a very impulsive and destructive person indeed, and I'd never have learnt how to deal with emotions differently, i.e. by taking up my own responsibility. If that hadn't happened, I'd already have been dead, probably already in Belgium if I hadn't moved to the Netherlands, because I can honestly say that life here in the Netherlands literally saved my life (and therefore that of my parents, who wouldn't be able to cope with my suicide, especially not my mom). If I hadn't learnt that, they'd never have accepted me at an open ward of a psychiatric hospital, and I'd never have met that specific nurse I talked about in an earlier post, and she'd never have talked about God and His son Jesus. I'd never have become a christian, and I'd never have been where I am right now. OK, there are these ups and downs, but I can feel that God is at work in my life. 

So, if people asked me: "Was it worth it? All the awful emotions, all the distress, all the crises, all the cutting, burning, hurting yourself in one way or the other... was it worth it?", I'd answer: YES, because now I have God in my life, and with Him, everything is possible. It can't be a coincidence that I haven't cut myself in over four year's time, exactly the same amount of time that has passed since I got saved. If God wasn't in my life, I'd already be dead for a long, long time. My first serious suicide attempt was at the psychiatric youth clinic, when I had just turned 18. I'll be honest, I tried to hang myself. But I didn't succeed because, at the moment when I stood on the bed, ready to jump off in order to hang myself, somebody knocked on my door. I said NO, and they didn't enter. That was kind of a relief, but I know that right then I started to doubt about my deed. I mean, it's quite symbolic, the moment you want to do it, somebody knocks at your door. So I wasn't that sure anymore. Doubt rose in my heart. That person came back a few minutes later, and I was still in doubt, and again answered NO. I know that then panic came to me, because I didn't know what to do anymore. The third time the nurse knocked on my door, I answered NO once again, but she entered anyway, and as I was panicking, I jumped off the bed in order to hang myself. However, she reacted rapidly and sensibly and pulled me up. Immediately there was a big alarm, and people came to help her and to lock me up in an isolation cell... again. However, I was very confused about what had happened, and I didn't struggle this time, I just let them carry me to the isolation ward. The day after that strange moment, they released me under certain conditions. I wanted to talk to that nurse about what had happened when she entered my room, but I couldn't really talk to her because I was actually pretty mad. Why the hell did she save me? Why did she spread doubt in my heart by knocking at my door at that crucial moment? So we had a so-called semi-written conversation: she talked, I wrote. And she told me that at that moment she had panicked too, and that she had immediately acted just because that's what people do in such situations. She also asked me why I wanted to take that irrevocable step. And she talked about 'caring about', not only about me caring about others, but also about others caring about me. At that moment I had the feeling that there was nobody in this world that really cared about me: not my parents, not my sister, not my friends... just nobody. But I was wrong, because God cared about me, and He still does. Now I know, and I should feel happy and grateful about it. But it's kind of hard right now, now that I am faced with this awfully dark period in my life again. I've made the ever-returning error to want to talk/write about the past while I'm not ready for it yet and while I know that it's a tough part of my history which is difficult to deal with...

I can honestly say that my life right now is a lot better than it was 12 years ago, and even better than it was about four years ago. And I do believe that's because of God's divine presence in my life: He wants the best for me. My life is still far from perfect, but at least I know now that I'm not all alone in all this. There is someone by my side, and He will never ever leave me. And yes, it's been worth the price: the depressions, the suicidal emotions, the scars... because He's worth it! Of course, it still hurts, and I have these moments in which I ask myself if all these moments of isolation were necessary, if all the cuts were necessary to come to the place and time where I am right now. I can honestly say that YES, it was probably necessary to take me to where I am right now. I do regret certain things in my life, and I'm still reproachful towards certain people, but I also know that it can only get better from now on. He will guide the way, I truly believe that. When my pastor told me that God is going to do wonderful things in my life last month, I initially didn't believe him and took it more as an encouragement. Now however, after a healing service with pastor Alkema and with three healing services with pastor Dekker to come this weekend, I know that God is already doing wonderful things in my life. And there is more to come, I know that. If you only believe and work towards it...