I know it has been a while since my last post. Motherhood is busy and I do plan on posting a few pics of Lucy on here after I am done, but I need to take a second and get something off my chest. A lot of you probably know that I have gone to India. There really isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about my last trip there. I have a lot of regrets and even though I do, I also miss it. I miss the color. I miss the smells. I even miss the culture, but after I think about the things I miss, it is like all the negative things that happened on that trip come back to me and make me sad. So many regrets....
I feel stupid talking about it. I feel like its "dramatic" or too small to even worry about and thats why I keep it to myself. I think "No one else is going to understand. No one else is going to see this as a big deal." And maybe not, but then again no one else was there with me.
The second time I went for the first two weeks I was witha group. An awesome group that really bonded while we were there! It was so fun and fruitful and me ministered to the people there. I remember this one time when we were at "Mother Theresa's Destitute and Dying" and there was this wonderful, blind old lady who was just hanging out. Well I went over to her to say hey and she asked my name(in hindi) and I told her. Well that is a catholic run hospital and she lit up when I told her my name. It just seems that all of my good experiences happened with the group...except for a couple.
The group and I went to a ceremony on the Ganges River, which is a stronghold for hinduism and a river that they worship. It is a very powerful place where cremations take and people bathe. Yes, they do both. If people can't afford cremation they just throw the bodies into the river with something to hold them down...well eventually the bodies make it up to the surface. The second time I went to india it was just a man, bloated from the water. The first time I went it was a little girl about six years old, with a bird pecking her head as she floated down the river. Now that I have a daughter, this image in my head makes me sick. But this experience that I guess "traumatized" me is about my second trip. I did see a lot of death in India. Especially where we were at the ganges river. I could go further about the things I saw but I will spare you and just talk about those things that put the "crazy gene" in me. So, after this ceremony, after prayer walking, we were going to back to our cars to go back to a hotel. As I was walking I felt something, something odd around my "special" area....men there are ridiculous. Apparently they feel like they can put there hands on anywhere on anybody. Uggggh! Thats right this man had is hand in that area.... sometimes I am still like "maybe I was hallucinating". I think its more just wishful thinking....
I guess because of that situation right there set the "mood" for the rest of the trip. When the group left I was sooo scared and cried sooo much. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know how to live life. When I look at pictures, like I just did, all I feel is sick. This is NOT how I wanted to feel. I rather feel joy. I rather smile at the good memories rather than look at them and groan because my heart aches.
For a week, while the girl I was staying with went to renew her visa, I had the privledge of staying with nationals. This is where most of my regrets come from because I was literally frozen with fear... Sunday when we all went to church I was suppose to say a few words. My testimony, what I thought about God, ANYTHING! Well as the pastor was asking anyone new to come up and say a few words ( the "new" person being me obviously because I'm WHITE) I sat there. Yup. I just sat there and sank in my chair. Errg! The shame that I saw on the nationals faces after that!! Omgosh! I embarassed them. Depsite the fact that probably don't even remember me and if they do they have moved past this situation I am stuck in it. It is something I think of when I really want to punish myself....just kidding. But it is something I think about and cringe. I can just imagine watching this in a movie. Everyone would be like, "Get up!! Go girl! You can do it!! GET UP!!!." And the disappointment in the audience when I don't. What also drives me crazy are the people that I talked to when I got back. So proud of me. I remember showing pictures to people who gave money for me to go and I literally told them nothing about the trip. I guess I was trying to keep all the "bad" stuff to myself. I wanted people to stay proud of me and not know that the trip was a FAIL. I think because I was keeping all my regrets inside of me is the reason I started having panic attacks when I got back. So I guess my question is, is can the little good I had in the trip really out weigh the bad? I mean I have forgiven myself, but that doesn't mean I forget. That also doesn't mean that sometimes I have to forgive myself over and over again! Anyways....this blog post is TO BE CONTINUED.... I will post Lucy pics in that one because I am literally running out the door....literally... SORRY!
