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I'm reading through Proverbs and came across this verse:

The integrity of the upright guides them, but the unfaithful are destroyed by their duplicity.  --Proverbs 11:3

I wish I could say it was this verse I read in high school that really changed me, but alas, it is not.  It's cool, though, that it affirms what I learned about uncovering my duplicity because this verse reminds me that it is an ongoing process and discipline in my life that I want and need to uphold, especially as life changes.

Uncovering my duplicity.

In high school, I was tired.  I had emotionally stretched myself so much that my rubber band life seemed to snap a sigh of relief as I graduated from high school and entered college.  I was physically tired, tired of working so hard to maintain and develop relationships, tired of leading other people who seemed willing to follow me until things got hard as if they didn't seem to desire change as much as I did.

But at some point (more like a long process) after graduating and as I entered college, I began to realize that essentially I was tired of living a double life: in many ways the person I was when I interacted with people was not the same person I was when I was by myself.  It wasn't a drastic difference, as if I was pulling a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.  My outward persona said to the world that I could juggle a multitude of tasks and responsibilities because I was strong; my mentality around others told me that crying, saying "no," or admitting that I couldn't handle it all were signs of weakness.  On the other hand, my emotion and perspective of my heart said:  I can't possibly do everything; even if I shared my pain with others, there are others who are actually going through worse things than me, so my problems are less important or valid and people are counting on me to encourage them, be "good" and do the right thing all the time; I'm so tired...I'm so, so tired; why doesn't anyone reach out to me or care enough about me to check in with me and see how I'm doing?

God led me through a process around that time that helped me begin to see that I was my own problem.  I also realized voices from who knows where (society? the Enemy? culture?) in my head were feeding me lies and I was consuming them like popcorn during a movie.  My eyes began to see that I wasn't living a life full of integrity, and the problem wasn't that people didn't care about me.  Of course people cared about me.  I had just set some unrealistic expectations that they were going to recognize and rescue me from every moment of weakness or pain.  I expected those close to me to meet my every need.

I also began to realize that I was not only setting standards that were too high for any human being, but I was actually closing all the doors of opportunities to experience true fellowship that I complained in my head so much about not having.

How was I doing this?  By not sharing with others my weaknesses or being vulnerable with others, I was isolating myself from others and not truly loving others.

Unconditional love is risky - it means you're going to put yourself out there for another person, even if that person doesn't love you back or respond the way you want them to.  So if I wasn't being honest with sharing my burdens, my fears, my pain, or my struggles with others because I was afraid they would see me differently or not give me the support I needed or dismiss/reject my feelings, then I wasn't really unconditionally loving them.  I was prideful for thinking I can/should handle my burdens on my own, prideful for assuming there was no chance they would love me back, and was loving conditionally because my decision to hold back was based on the outcome of the other person's response.

And people can't respond to what they don't know.  How could I expect people to love me in the ways I needed/wanted to be loved if I didn't share with them what was going on with me?  Did I really just assume everyone could read my mind and my heart and understand my exact state of being through my facial expressions?

I get it - I'd been hurt so many times when I did take the risk to put myself out there and be honest with people, so I know after many tries it's difficult to keep doing it.  But I began to make the connection that because I am a daughter of Christ who is so beautifully and wonderfully made, my security, hope, and identity rest in Him and not in other people.  He is the reason why we can keep taking those risks and putting ourselves out there.  He restores our soul; He heals our wounds; He has already paid the price.

I began to desire to live a life of genuine integrity and simplicity - not just in momentary decisions but as woven throughout my entire lifestyle that promoted these in such a way that who I was with other people (whether they're friends, family, or strangers) would be true to who I am when I was alone.  I realized I knew a lot of information and knowledge in my head and told people I believed certain things about life but didn't actually feel them or believe them in my heart.  My head and my heart were misaligned.

Obviously at this point I knew my frustration with not being able to change people stemmed from my frustration with not being in control of everything.  I also knew that I couldn't force people to change but that I needed to change myself.  I needed to submit myself to Christ...every day.

I rehash some of these things as a summary of posts from a long time ago because these were the processes that set the stage for my "carpe diem" disposition.  Stay tuned for another post on that.

Bless the Lord.

Emotional workaholic.

Nathan made that term up.  That's what he called me today on the phone.  I've called him a workaholic before, but today he said that I may pace myself better task-wise, but I'm always emotionally preoccupied with what else I need to do and who else I need to care for because my job [as a staff worker, as a friend, as a neighbor, as a sister & daughter, and as a Christian] is never done.  I agreed and said that's probably what it is.  And then we hung up and I burst out crying for the second time today.

They say the first sign is denial and the first step to recovery is acceptance, right?

My name is Tammy and I am an emotional workaholic.

My crying perpetuated itself because feelings and thoughts I wasn't aware of were suddenly rising to the surface of my conscience:  I'm so, so physically and emotionally tired; I have been running on empty; I feel like a hypocrite to my students whom I've been worrying about for overworking; I wish a close friend was here to give me a hug; I feel like a failure for not getting this, this, this, this, and this done; my love tank of affirmation is very low; I feel lonely and needy and don't like that I feel that way; this is an all-too-familiar problem and I should have learned my lesson by now.

My name is Tammy and I am a recovering emotional workaholic who relapsed.

I've always struggled with taking care of myself properly.  This isn't a particularly new concept to me - I've been struggling with this since high school.  This time, it's just got a different face.  Even though I'm better at limiting the number of kinds of commitments I make (i.e. joining/leading way too many clubs or ministries), I still have not gotten the hang of setting boundaries and setting aside time to rest for myself is extremely important.  And it's not just about "doing nothing" - I've done that a number of times this week - but it's about personal fulfillment and delight.  It's about enjoying something that's unique to who I am because that's who God created me to be.

My name is Tammy and I don't want to be an emotional workaholic.

The problem is I know what I need to do in my head - it's the action part that slips through the cracks.  Telling me I need to take Sabbath and take time off or develop my own personal growth will not switch on a light as a novel idea.  It's the actual discipline of doing it that needs to kick in.  Funny, I feel like that's a general issue with many of us who call ourselves Christians.  I am no exception.

If I want to align what I know to be true with what my heart desires, then my behavior should reflect the decisions I've made and the beliefs I say I have.  It's a basic conviction I've valued for a very long time.  So if I know I need to rest, then I need to follow through on setting aside time and space to rest, enjoy the gifts that God has given me to share with others, and not feel guilty about it.  I need to set aside a decent chunk of time every week for myself and defend it against the multitude of needs that never stop coming to hang out on the doorstep of my heart and my brain.  

Eh, I think it could be arguable that the first step to recovery is "acceptance."  At least, I don't necessarily agree that it is just the acceptance of myself as a workaholic.  I think more importantly it is the acceptance and acknowledgement of who God is.  When we remember the character of God, it sheds light on our own sinfulness and how we've replaced Him in our lives for something else.  I think when we remember the truths of who God is, the question we should ask ourselves is:  why do we settle for less?

Bless the Lord, O my soul,
and all that is within me,
bless his holy name!
Bless the Lord, O my soul,
and forget not all his benefits,
who forgives all your iniquity,
who heals all your disease,
who redeems your life from the pit,
who crowns you with steadfast love and mercy,
who satisfies you with good
so that your youth is renewed like the eagle's.
--Psalm 103:1-5

If you have time you should check out the twenty questions you can ask yourself to see if you're just like me.

Cherry on top.

I wanted to write a post two days ago but I was still trying to figure out what it was that I wanted to say, how I could identify what was going on in my head, and how I could share that here.

On Monday I had lunch with an old friend from high school (wow, I can't believe I'm old enough to actually say that I had an old friend). We get together occasionally when I'm on break and come home. He's one of those people from high school I have found that makes the occasional effort to reach out to me to meet up and actually follow through with it, even if I didn't first reach out to him. It's something I've appreciated about him. This time, though, I had the chance to initiate with him.

Usually I'm wary about meeting up with high school friends because I feel like I sometimes let myself get poured back into the mold and placed on a pedestal of perfection that people in high school so often put me in. I'd soak up the glory without pointing back to God, who is the source of why I was the way I was in high school and why I am the way I am today.

But this time it felt slightly different. Maybe it was because I prayed differently than I normally would before meeting up with old high school friends. Maybe it was because of how God has working in my heart at this point in my life. Maybe it was because of just where my friend was in his life. Who knows?

It seemed like my friend was still his same old self, or trying to be, but at the same time he seemed more defeated. I could tell he's getting weary of fighting the world and fighting himself. I could see it even though he was trying to cover it. My heart was breaking deeper than the other times we've met up and deeper than our friendship during high school.

He wanted to fill a deep void and was looking in all the wrong places. Names and faces of so many others who were doing the same on college campuses flashed through my mind.

I don't even remember half of what I asked him or said in my response to his questions. All I know is that the least I could do was to be completely honest - no God-censored, self-centered answers - and pray.

"Are you happy? You seem happy," he said to me at some point while we were walking to a bakery for dessert.

His question and observation struck me. I had not used the word "happy" to describe myself for a really, really long time (until one time recently), I think because I found when I was younger that I didn't want to pursue something like happiness that was so fickle and only came around like a fair-weather friend. I wanted to pursue something deeper and richer and deeply satisfying that would sustain me no matter what the weather of my life was like. I've been spending a lifetime pursuing the pure joy, peace, hope and love that only Christ can give. Happiness didn't even matter. It was just a bonus if it ever came around.

"I'm not happy all the time," I told him. "But I'm content whether or not I'm happy."

Alias (Part Three)

Read Alias (Part Two) and then read this post. This is a long post, I must warn you, but to me it's a necessary one, so if you don't feel like reading, I won't be offended (not that I even know who you are that's reading this - I guess I can't be offended if I don't know)

Protecting yourself by pretending to be someone you're not can get extremely exhausting.

It takes a lot of work to keep up with the different roles, expectations, and acts that we've taken on for ourselves. We assume different identities when we're with different individuals or groups and juggle these elements (i.e. happy faces, telling people we're just fine, cracking jokes) around, putting on a show that we have it all together until we're not with them anymore. The masks come off, the balls we're juggling drop, and we wallow in the puddle of loneliness we had just created for ourselves.

And we can pretend that it's not true until that puddle of loneliness grows into a pond, and then an ocean where we try to deal with it by swimming in it. Then it gets to the point where our feet can't touch the ground anymore, swimming gets tiring, and soon we're just treading water. We get so tired to a point where we just let the tides of expectations lead us, pushing us this way and that. And when the storms come on those days when you least expect them to, we find ourselves drowning to a point where all we want to do is come up for air - to make it to the weekend or at least get through the day, so that you could have some chance of breathing.

As I describe it that way, I think about my senior year of high school because that's when I particularly began to get fed up with all of these acts. Throughout my life, my natural optimism, desire to excel in my responsibilities, self-discipline to always try to do the right thing, and guilt I poured out on myself if and when I felt like I had failed lay the bricks for others to build upon this idea that I was some sort of innocent, perfect, always-had-it-all-together kind of person. Somehow people's views of me perpetuated this identity into something more than it really was.

I let it drive people's perceptions of me because honestly, who doesn't like to be thought of as "the good one" or "the responsible one" or "the dependable one"? Who doesn't like to be spoken of so highly by others?

I'm not saying that this is all together a bad thing, but the problem was that I held so tightly to this identity to a point where I refused to let people in to see otherwise and would make decisions that would protect myself from breaking down that identity.

I had a hard time saying no, wanted to bring change to the world around me, and believed that I could and had to handle everything and do it all by myself. It was a terrible combination. By the time I reached my senior year of high school I was forcing myself to get up by 5:15 every morning, went to school for a full day of classes and then did my best to excel in my responsibilities as an Arista National Honor Society member, the Seekers Christian Club Praise Leader, JROTC Logistics Staff Captain, JROTC Drum Corps Commander by attending meetings, organizing/planning/executing special events, investing in those I led, and get home by 6:30pm every night to eat dinner, do my homework, prepare for college and start all over again the next morning. On the weekends I led or attended special events or activities for JROTC, invested heavily in my youth group, and went to church several times. And all the while I dealt with all the drama that came with my relationships with people, and did all I could to maintain this image that I could do everything, do it well, and do it all by myself.

And let me tell you, I definitely wasn't perfect or had it all together all the time. In fact, I was far beyond it. I was physically, mentally, and emotionally strained, but because I believed that I was strong, independent, and needed to have it all together, I saw this strain and exhaustion as a weakness rather than a sign of the reality that I needed people. Whenever people pointed out that I looked tired or sad or asked me how I was doing, I told them I was just fine and internally processed their comments to mean, "They can see my weaknesses. My protective identity is failing."

In a way I guess you could say I kept people at a distance. There were a number of reasons why I didn't open up to people, even my closest friends:

• I didn't want to burden people with my troubles.
• I was afraid they wouldn't understand.
• I was afraid they wouldn't want to listen.
• I was afraid they would say something I didn't want to hear.
• I was afraid they'd say something I already knew.
• I didn't want them to say anything and was afraid they would.
• I was afraid to be wrong.
• I was afraid to be right.
• I wanted to protect people from myself.
• I recognized that people go through way worse things than me, so I saw my own troubles as plain selfishness and less important.

So I kept people out, but at the same time, I desperately wanted someone to come in. It wasn't that I was creating a fake identity for myself by acting the way I was - I really was just being myself. But it wasn't the whole me and I wanted someone to know my struggles and my fears and let me know that everything was going to be okay.

I resented a few people, but for the most part I understood that this kind of loneliness was a position I had put myself in and figured it was something only I could figure out how to get myself out of. Thankfully by the grace of God, I constantly turned to Him and music instead of other dangerous ways to help me get through high school. I held on tightly to hope that rested in God because there was nothing else I felt like I could put my hope in.

A big reason why I can say that confidently and not arbitrarily is because of the journal I kept during the last half of my senior year in high school. That journal is like a museum that gives tribute to who I was and how I viewed my life at that time.

Here's an entry I wrote to God:
Dear Heavenly Father,

Wow. What a day. WHAT a day. I was so excited for the end of school. It went by really fast. I was really excited for the lock-in. I really was. Maybe in hopes that I'd bond with some people and maybe break down some barriers.

Well, they definitely weren't the barriers I thought I'd break.
I thought I was going to break barriers between me and other people - but it turns out You wanted to break barriers within myself. The water dams broke. When Uncle Tim asked me to lead the praise team for the retreat, something snapped in me. I was falling, but Pam & Libby were there to catch me.
Pam was giving me encouragement and saying positive things to me as I cried, and she made some good points, points I think You've been trying to tell me for a long time. You told me that I can't hold everybody up. I can't be superwoman. I'm such a hypocrite. I've been telling Aiko that she's not superwoman and that she doesn't have to suffer so much, but here I am, convinced that I've been doing the right thing this whole time, trying to carry the worries of the world while trying to unscramble and de-code my own. It's not humanly possible.
I'm trying so hard, Lord, and I've learned that that's never going to be enough. I'm stressed, I'm tired. I want to do so many more things but just don't have the time to do so.
I'm thinking of talking to the Seekers Leaders about not being the Praise Team Leader anymore. I've been praying to You, Father, and I think You've answered me pretty straight-foward.
I am not superwoman.
I am not superwoman.
I'll see You in the morning.

With all my effort put aside,
Your daughter,
Tammy

If you read most of my other journal entries, you see a theme of how I go back and forth, trying to figure out how to get out of this vicious cycle (I listened to Lifehouse's "Sick Cycle Carousel" a lot) of wanting out of this alias that I and those around me had spun together.
High school was where I built and maintained these aliases, and found the desire to break them down. College was where I began to turn that desire into action.

Get ready for Alias (Part Four)!

Junior High Flashbacks.

So for my Creative Non-Fiction class I have an assignment where I'm supposed to write two contrasting scenes - both showing a different identity I have when I'm with certain people or in certain situations.

The first thing I thought of was who I am when I'm around any friends from high school. You know how my facial expressions explain everything and I shake my head with disapproval? Well, it's usually ten times more frequent when I'm with anyone from high school. With a handful of exceptions, most of them are pretty shallow relationships that I always wish I could change. I want my friends to know who I really am, and who I really live for and wish that they could experience the same things. But when opportunities arise I chicken out, with the same old weakness I have of being a people-pleaser. And our conversations end up being about something very generic or gossip about the people we know - two things I don't particularly enjoy participating in.

This assignment somehow inspired me to pull out my boxes of old things I kept from my high school years all the way back to my junior high years. And lo and behold, I came across a diary/journal I had kept back in middle school.

I didn't plan to, but I read the whole thing. I didn't fill the book, which was no surprise(I never finished writing in a journal until my senior year of high school), but what I read intrigued me. There were a number of things I knew I'd find in there, but there were a good number of things I wrote that kind of surprised me - either because I didn't know I thought that way back then or because there were some things that hadn't changed about me.

One common theme I seemed to pick up on besides my boring "I did this today" spiel was that I was really imprisoned by my own fears. Fear drove me a lot more than I remember. I don't remember being so scared to do or say certain things for the sake of keeping peace and harmony amongst my relationships or for the sake of looking "less cool" than I already was. I identified myself very interestingly - I always thought I wasn't as cool as any of my friends, but I never thought of myself as a loser because I clearly knew who I was in Christ. And my identity in Christ was what kept me from trying to do certain things to "fit in" with the popular crowd. I hung out with the popular crowd, but I never felt like I was truly one of them.

I actually laughed out loud at a whole bunch of stupid things I wrote - or maybe not stupid, but at least the way I wrote it sounded really silly. For example, I wrote about the time my ridiculous 8th grade English teacher yelled at me and made me cry for something I felt I was unjustly threatened for. In my diary/journal I told the story of what happened and then ranted about how incredulous it was, and at the very end of the rant I suddenly wrote, "I'll pray to God to change his hard heart." Hahaha I was so weird.

I realized later on that I was actually procrastinating from doing my actual assignment, but it was nice to check in and say hello to my old self. Just...if God ever takes me away unexpectedly, please don't read my junior high school journals. I'd be so embarrassed - although, it might explain some things about me that you didn't know, but I don't know if the risk outweighs the cost. You can read my high school/college ones. Just not my junior high ones.

Dang. I still have to figure out what I'm going to write for my Creative Non-Fiction assignment.

High School Blues

I'm not sure if this post is what you think it is, but we'll see.

This week I was knocked on the head again with the High-School-Flashback Pixie Stick. I had one mere opportunity to hang out for about an hour with my friend Justin, who called me and asked last-minute if I'd visit Francis Lewis High School, my alma mater, to say high to the Army Instructors (AIs) of the JROTC program. I did just send them my family Christmas letter, but I wasn't prepared to visit them within the fifteen minutes Justin was going to come pick me up. I felt funny, even though I had visited them a number of times within the last few years, because as I returned again and again each year, there were less faces I recognized and less who cared about me...except the AIs. But I did enjoy seeing the AIs and knew they liked it when I dropped by to say hello. And I knew if I didn't go now with Justin, I probably wouldn't make the time the rest of the week to say hello.

So what struck me during my visit was how these thoughts and feelings started rushing back from the last few times I had visited Franny Lew. The last time I visited last year and the year before that, my eyes were opened to how I didn't let people see God and how He was the driving force in my life. I tried to be as kind, patient, and nice with as much integrity as I could to try and hold my life together - to be strong for everyone else who was falling apart. But some of them couldn't see Him. I stood in the way of His glory.

As I stood in the hallway right outside the JROTC classroom with Justin asking 1SG small-talk questions about people in JROTC that I should've known, I thought about how many opportunities I had let me slip by to really care about the souls and lives of my fellow JROTC leaders and all who followed me. And I let myself be praised for my "perfection" and "good heart" without pointing back to God. I absorbed His glory and kept it for myself without desiring to really get to know those He loves and taking it home with me as soon as the day was over.

I cared about those who cared about me and thank God He was working through me in my weaknesses and lack of training as He was pursuing my good friends Raymond, Mary, and Priscilla. It was totally God and not me that brought them closer to Him. But it was hard for me to care about those who didn't pursue me as a friend, and I didn't even bother to try because I was so scared. I avoided the opportunities God had given me to reach more of those who needed Him.

I was looking around at my high school with new eyes, where all I saw were lost souls and how much I wished I could go back and share with my peers the things I've struggled with and the things I've learned from His persistence.

Having dinner with an old high school friend further crushed me, as we asked each other about how we're doing and I tried sharing with him about my experience at Urbana. We got around to talking about life, the purpose for it and all the evil the surrounds us. I kept asking him questions but listened to him as well, but I also tried with as much love and grace to point out the contradictions and inconsistencies he had in his thoughts about life. I prayed and prayed for God to work through me as we talked.

My heart completely sunk, though, that whenever I shared about God, he'd say, "Oh, Tamaria. I'm glad to see you're the same Tamaria I knew in high school."

Could he really not see how different I was since high school? How much courage from God was needed for me to even be talking to him about God? How much I cared about him but how much more God cared about him?

I was confident by the end of the night when he said, "I know what you're trying to say, but I just can't buy it," that I needed to trust God in His mighty works. It was never about me the moment I called my friend up to meet with me. It was never about me the moments I shared about God with him. It was never about whether or not anything I said got through to him. It was up to God.

Maybe I should've or could've said things in a different way, with a different approach. Maybe I needed to call him more often. Maybe I needed to pray for him more often. In any case, as I prayed later on that night after I returned home, I didn't worry. I knew God was pursuing him and that He was using me despite my weaknesses and maybe lack of eloquence or profound enlightenment. It seemed impossible for his stubborn soul to be saved, but if God chose him, he would be - no matter how much or how long it took. So I will wait on Him. I will pray big and bold for him to the God who is sovereign over all, creator, and revealer. And I am confident that He will answer in His time.

P.S. I didn't mean in my previous Urbana/Room Swap post that I didn't want to talk about Urbana! I'm sorry. I meant that I felt like it was expected for my next post to be about Urbana, but there was just too much to share for me to write all about it. I wanted my Urbana experience to permeate through my life and through my blog posts, rather than saying, "Here's what happened at Urbana. That is what happened there and that is where it is going to stay. The End." Plus, I'd rather talk about it in person with you than have you read it here and then not ask me about it at all when we talk. Also, I am still processing some things. I'm sorry for the miscommunication!

all i ate was a slice of pizza. i wasn't hungry the rest of the day. must've been one heck of a slice.

today i stayed home. i'm glad i did. in case people didn't know, i'm mostly an introverted kind of person, and though i don't like staying home because of our family issues, i like to be by myself. i like doing my own thing sometimes. it's a little frustrating sometimes because people don't get that sometimes. like, i tell people i'm staying home and they're all like, "why don't you come hang out with us" or "why aren't you going to [fill in location here] with us?" and so on. and sometimes it's just cuz i need to recharge and i like to recharge by myself. i don't like being around so many people all the time sometimes, most of the time for the other people's sake. if i'm out and about too much it drains me out and then i'll stick things out if i have to, but if i'm tired and hot i usually get really grumpy and snappy and can be mean to people when i don't mean to be. and i don't want to do that to others.

i got frustrated again tonight, when raymond called [you guys, i'm so not good at talking on the phone just to chat]. we were talking about stuff and it got around somehow to the whole thing about people here at home getting mad at me for not keeping in touch with them and stuff and not wanting to come home and etc. and i got frustrated even though things are better and good with everyone now because i feel like i want them to know and understand why i don't like coming home and why it's hard for me to talk on the phone, especially for long periods of time.

but i feel like even if i explain, they'll never really get it. and that stinks, because i want them to understand. it's just like JROTC. no one really understands why i was in it, why it was an important part of my life, or what i actually did unless you were IN the jrotc at my school. my friends and family won't ever really understand what happens at bing, what i do at bing, or why it's so important to me unless they're actually there.

but i guess i should always try to explain anyway. i can't just assume they won't get it. and it's good to just share with them about my life there.

okay okay. so i shouldn't be frustrated. i get it. but i still can't help but be frustrated at myself for not liking to talk on the phone. and for messing up for not trying to reach out to my friends at home.

anyway, on a different note, i've been working on my novel. at long last.
and i've been reading a biography on audrey hepburn. it's an interesting read. it makes me admire her more and more.
it also makes me wish i could set up a projector in my backyard and show two or three audrey hepburn movies every night during the week of my birthday. that would be AWESOME. maybe i will do that.

btw, i'm going to finally use my gmail from now on. outlook is just getting too annoying with like a bajillion responses to emails piling up in my inbox. i don't get a chance to reply because new emails fill up my inbox so quickly. plus, i keep forgetting to change it from my hotmail account to my gmail account when i reply. so annoying. sticking to gmail.

i saw indiana jones in the theaters with my family today. let's just say i wouldn't want to see it again.

and when we left the theater, it was pouring rain - almost hurricane-like! it was wonderful. i think it means more to me than just the heat wave breaking :]