My Dad is a hard topic for me. He moved to the small town I live in this year. I’ve had more contact with him this year than I have in seven years at least. It’s caused me to have to deal with a lot of issues. I’ve had to look at what it means to forgive but also keep him at arms length… wondering the whole time if I was doing the right thing.

It’s been hard to know how to deal with someone who is clearly not mentally well. How do you forgive someone when they are clearly not the same person that hurt you? I pray a lot for help. How do you know what was intentional? You don’t. How do you care for them? I don’t know. That’s the truth. This is one of those times in life when there is no simple answer.

Dad has a hard time communicating. The one thing that he keeps telling me is “I love you, anyway”. Even when I don’t visit as often as he would like. When I don’t meet his expectations. When I feel like I’ve failed. It’s hard for me to feel like he loves me. Dad didn’t tell me he loved me until Mom told him by not telling me he would mess me up. I was eleven.

He told me “You know I love you right?”

“Yeah Dad I know.”

But I was never really sure. Not when I was young, he didn’t behavior in a way that made me think he loved me. I wasn’t able to see that he was trying, doing the best that he could. At times I think that he could have done better but he couldn’t understand how his actions affected me. I don’t honestly think that he understands the long term affects of any of the actions that he’s taken.

It’s hard to explain what my Dad is like…He’s just so different. His actions often lack any logic that I can follow.

There were many times that I have to thank those around me for taking care of me. For teaching me things that he should have taught me that he didn’t have the words for or didn’t know himself. I can say looking back that God watched over me and kept me safe. I would like to think that I’m more empathic for what I’ve been through. I can honestly say that sometimes being normal still eludes me. That is both a blessing and a curse.

I try to remain grateful for how peaceful my home life is these days. At least it truly is a place where I can be myself. Sorry to my family that I live with, I know that I’ve been a lot more on edge these days.

Sorry for the silence online it’s just that most of what I’ve been writing about these days is just between me and God. For all those like me who have to live with mental illness and the lack of knowing what to do about it. I don’t have any advice expect to lean into and on God. If only to keep yourself somewhat sane.

God has lifted me out of the worst parts of my life in the past. He will do so again in His timing and in His own way. Until then I will keep holding on to my Heavenly Father, His son who died for me Jesus Christ, and The Holy Spirit that is my strength in all storms.

I’ve been working on a novel for what feels like forever. I’m currently having a hard time writing it because I have to put my main character through hell. I know that on the other side she’s going to be a better person. She’s going to learn and grow. I just find myself unable to write the pain that she’s going to have to experience first.

I found myself wondering if that isn’t how God looks at us sometimes.

I have found that I have hope in Christ again. Not that everything will work out how I want it too. Things may get much, much worse. We may never get back to normal, not at least how we once knew it. That’s okay because Christ is still with us. No matter what happens if we reach out to God with sincerity He will reach back.

For me it’s important to remember how much God loves me. When I fill up my cup then it can overflow to those around me. To my family, friends, and coworkers. Even in these trying times He was not forgotten me. It just took me awhile to find my hope again. To remember that I’m not the only one going through a hard time. We are all going through something right now. Kindness is easier for me to show to others when I remember where my hope comes from.

Not from the easily corrupted leaders of this world. Politics are a dirty game. I know that God is in control. I know that He has a plan and He will use bad leaders and good leaders to bring about what He desires. Even if it means life may get really uncomfortable for those that believe. We know that it`s going to get worse before it gets better. One day it will be dangerous everywhere.

I believe that we are closer to the end than the beginning of times. Even if I’m wrong in this, I know that it is right to draw closer to God in all times regardless. It’s like the hymn goes:

Turn you eyes upon Jesus

Look full in His wonderful face

And the things of earth will grow strangely dim

In the light of His glory and grace

Remember your first love my fellow believers, we will get through this. Hold onto your hope.

I feel that I should write more about personal experiences that I’ve had. I don’t feel comfortable doing this in the least. I just want those that know me in real life to know that this is just my side of things. For those that don’t know me in every story there is more than one side. This is just mine.

I want to write about having a learning disablitie, no disablite, no disablity, disability. I struggle with spelling; welcome to my life. If you find yourself wondering how the rest of this post or how all of them have few errors, you can thank my editor/Dad. I struggle to write and it probably takes me three times as long to write posts as you think. I don’t tell many people that I have a learning disability because I feel like people except less of me when they learn about it. They disregard my opinions and treat me like I’m less than capable.

I never thought I would be a writer because I struggled to even read growing up. I couldn’t keep up in school. For years my reading level was two grades below what it should have been. Kids called me stupid and I felt like it. In my class I was segregated to get extra help from the teachers aid.

At first I was just a kid that was struggling to learn to read and spell. I’m not sure when I was misdiagnosed as dyslexic. I know that in grade two I was already getting help. They put me on special programs to help me learn to read with my ‘dyslexia’. My school did what they could to help me. I can remember the school bringing in experts to test me in order to get me the right kind of help. It became frustrating for me and the school when I didn’t respond to what they were trying. In grade five I still couldn’t read at my grade level.

A lot of testing took place over the years. When I was twelve they finally stubbled onto the root of my reading problems. The muscles in my eyes couldn’t focus. Words and even whole lines would disappear off the page. In order to correct this problem I had to go to eye muscle physiotherapy. Once a week on Saturdays I would go into the city and spend two hours doing eye strengthening exercises. At home every night I would do some more exercises. I think I did this for six months. At the same time I was being totally removed from class to spend extra time reading in school. By the time I finished grade six I was reading at grade level.

I don’t know how to explain to someone who has always been able to read how much this opened up a whole new world for me. I could finally keep up in class. I was a curious kid and I was able to read books that interested me. On the summer between grade six and seven I read everything. I could escape in a way I never could before. I still love to read and I was able to turn my spare room into a library last year.

I worked hard in middle school to prove that I didn’t need all of the extra help. I hated having a teacher’s aid hover over me in every class. It can be hard to break perceptions once people see you as one thing. Some expects thought that I had a low IQ and that I would need help for the rest of my life. I thank God for my parents and the teachers who fought for me to have less help. They saw my potential and as I got less help my grades went up expect for math. I almost failed math in grade seven and eleven. I was on the honor roll for having an 85% average from grade seven to grade twelve. Yes, I had to work for it, I was never the kid that could show up for a test without studying and get a 90%.

I did have to get some help over the years. I had to have a scribe for science tests in grade seven. A scribe in the way that I’m meaning it is someone who would write my answers down for me. This was done because my science teacher couldn’t tell what I was trying to say because my spelling was so bad. I got good grades on the tests after that because I did understand the concepts. I also had to have a different spelling list in grade nine. It was dragging my grade down in a class that I otherwise was doing well in. Over the years I had to ask for extra help in math, it never clicked with me.

I want people to know that a learning disability just means that you learn differently. Yes, I still struggle with math, spelling, and I have no sense of left and right. We all have our issues. It’s important that we try to find ways to compensate for them. I felt like growing up not much was expected of me. When I struggled it got blamed on my learning disability. I wish that I would have been given the chance to try more. To see how far I could get on my own.

I still have a “I’m stupid” chip on my shoulder. I don’t tell people that I have a learning disability.

What is the point of all this?

I want people to know that no matter what you are or aren’t God can make you into the best version of yourself.

I have to rely on God’s strength daily because I’m weak. I have short comings, yet God has work for me. Since I’ve opened up I want this to not just be about me. I want to tell ya’ll that you can get through whatever you are going through by reaching out to God.

Dear Heavenly Father,

LORD, I know that it is you that is the power in my life. That you understand me. I want you to help me understand myself better. I want to see you in my everyday life. I know you are here.

Thank you for all you are doing for me and everything you have done for me. I’m not what people say of me, I’m what you say of me.

In Jesus name I pray,

Amen