No One to Trust

There is no way for me at this point to fully express in words what is happening internally. How I wish speaking in tongues could be understood by the masses. The groaning in my most inner parts is the only language I understand right now; there is just no way to communicate the anguish that has just been unleashed before and with in me.
The last three days have been such a blur I’m not even sure where I should begin with this post. What details matter, which ones don't? How does one short so much information out into clear and concise sentences for others to comprehend? I'm at a lost as to how this might be done; so for warnings on this being very rough.

"Pain and Pretending," by Rich Buhler - published in 1982 by Nelson publishers - was given to me three days ago by a Pastor whom I have known the same amount of time. I was encouraged by a friend to visit a women’s bible study her church hosts, and while there found myself extremely hungry for answers to the questions I had been asking myself for weeks. Figuring it wouldn’t hurt to ask, I went to the Pastor sometime later in the afternoon after the bible study had long since ended and asked him to barrow any book on anger he might have stashed away in his library. Having grown up around Pastors I knew that they carry their books with them everywhere, and so his office in my mind was a wealth of knowledge waiting to be broken into. He was more then delighted to poke around for anything I might find useful; however I was really stunned when we entered his office as he only has two book shelves which are two feet shorter then me, and held more nick knacks then books. I quickly learned that he had downsized his collection for the sake of space saving and had become an "information over the internet" man rather then a "hard cover is good cover" kind of a guy.
Lets say, for the sake of maintaining my mind as a solid instead of a gas, that the books given me were not only about anger but were pin pointing the reason why I have such an issue in the first place. For me, this turn of events that has become an eye opening chapter in my life, has been more painful and more beautiful; and nothing about it was expected or even imagined, even in the slightest.

Two months ago a former friend confided in me that she had felt a pull of the Holy Spirit to open up her apartment to me as a gesture of hospitality. This gesture was made primarily on the basis that she knew I was currently living with my Grandparents (who are six minutes away from my parents) and "the Lord" wanted for me to have a safe house to crash whenever I needed to escape for a while. What I regret most about what I have said thus far about this situation is I have repeatedly made excuses for all parties involved believing that I am truly the only one in the picture with a problem and no one else was to blame. The truth is that while I have so much to own up to, and have failed miserably in a lot of situations that have effected others the last two months, I seem to be the only one willing to admit I have an issue!
I felt a pull not to trust this person with their offer; I felt basically forced to take their spare key and to be in a friendship with them from the beginning. I really wanted nothing to do with them but they insisted and pushed me. It pissed me off and I said nothing! It made me want to scream at them and crash my fist into their gut, but I still kept quiet! Their constant contact with me, wanting me to join them for special things, and wanting my constant attention was all based on their need for the same; and instead of listening to my gut I chose to trust them!

Not even two weeks ago, we had an explosive parting. It got so heated that I began hitting on her so she would get the point; and in the middle of it all I realized that my abuse was being directed outwardly and I wasn't going to let myself get away with it. Without even considering what I needed to do I picked up the phone and called 911 on myself. The dispatcher was very kind and blunt, and with in 15 minutes two officers were standing at the apartment door looking at me curiously. I gave my statement to the lead officer who seemed shocked that I had made the call; this whole time my body was fighting off a sever flu and it made me feel so much more awful standing there coughing and shivering while he tried to take notes. By this point the other person had gone into the other room and refused to come out; they also refused to press charges against me although I had prayed that they would. It wasn't that I wanted to go to jail or that I desired more self destruction, I just simply wanted to be held accountable; I wanted justice.

So now a week and a half later, I found myself at church in service with new found friends and a new Pastor who's book had so far made an huge impact on me. As we all stood to sing, this person walks in and smiles at me, and instinctively I smile back. It's not like we haven't seen each other since I left the apartment, we have, but since then I had made it clear I wasn't willing to be around them; and if I had no choice due to mutual friendships, I concluded that there was nothing about being near them I had to like. This person lied to me, was manipulative, poured out anger whenever necessary, and shoved as much bull shit theology down my throat as would fit uncomfortably. Now that we were in a public place they expected me to suck it up and act like everything that happened was my fault and just up and like them again. They said to me that they wanted me to know that I was beautiful and even though I didn't know that, they did. Among the others things they had to say (that all would have sounded so wonderful if I was a self loathing idiot fool, who gullibly listened to everything anyone had to say about me) they wanted to tell me that there was still forgiveness for me if I chose to take it from them. After all their whispering in my ear and self-righteous ass talk, they looked at me with a smile tilted their head as if to show they really did care, and opened their arms to embrace me. There are two things I don't do...blow jobs and hugging people I hate; until per request or command from the Holy Spirit I change either of those that person was insane if they thought I was just going to smile and pretend it was all better. If there is one thing I have learned going through hell, it is that band aids look pretty but cancer kills.

...more to come.