Editor's Note: Renée Altson’s nonfiction and poetry have been published in journals and anthologies nationwide. Her weblog (www.ianua.org) has received wide acclaim and is viewed by the Christian and secular communities as an extraordinary narrative. She is the author of Stumbling Toward Faith, a personal narrative that chronicles Renée's painful story of the evil done to her—mostly in the name of God—and her difficult journey toward faith.
I received an interesting letter the other day.
I have been following your blog off and on since reading your book which was recommended in a book by Rob Bell ...
I read once that you were on 12 different types of meds and swore I didn’t want to end up there. I have however now tried fluox, citalopram, currently on Effexor, lithium, olanzapine and zopiclone for sleeping ...
I am frightened by suicidal thinking and have one attempt and hospitalization under the Mental Health Act behind me but wonder if things will ever change ...
I need hope and I read your blog looking for it. I don’t see it.
This letter caused me to take pause and look at my life, my blog, my current situations and other things.
I asked myself:
What is hope?…
What is hope for me?
Here was my response:
For me, regarding hope—
I am currently in the midst of a relapse.
The book was originally published in 2004. in 2006, I was raped (once again) by a stranger as I left the pool where I was swimming at. It set me back immensely. As my depression worsened, I tried electroshock therapy which actually helped me quite a bit, but I had to stop due to insurance reasons. This year alone, I was in the [psych] hospital 6 times between January and April. I broke both ankles and tore a ligament in my knee about a month ago, which has also been quite difficult.
For me, hope has looked like going a few days longer without self-injury, learning some new way of coping with things, trusting my therapist more each session, and being able to get down and up the stairs of my 2nd floor apartment with 2 broken legs ...
In the end of the book, my hope was still rather tenuous and fragile. Since, I’ve learned that hope isn’t always a tangible feeling of light or confidence. It can be in the little things. The tiniest speck of improvement or communication or relationship. The way the stars look in the middle of the night against the darkened sky. Looking in the mirror and feeling like you actually do matter.
So I might dare to argue with you that there isn’t hope.
There is. It just doesn’t look like it sometimes can.
Life is a struggle, it’s part of the reality of our humanity. We will get better and worse, we may always battle suicide, our PTSD may never really go away. The abuse still happened, and we struggle with what was done to us the rest of our lives.
But we’re not alone.
We’re not small and helpless.
We are.
We are loved.
And that is enough like hope for me.
I want to commend Renee for her honesty and for sharing her hope.
Posted by: angela | August 27, 2008 at 01:19 PM
Thank you for reminding us that there is always hope. You are loved, Renee. And very, very courageous.
Posted by: Beth | August 27, 2008 at 02:43 PM
I'm reminded how we are all broken, shattered individuals to one extent or another and how the grace and mercy of Jesus picks us up, points us in the right direction, and rebuilds us while we still walk (and stumble) on this earth. How we so desperately need Him!
Posted by: Keith | August 27, 2008 at 03:02 PM
I sat up last night until the wee hours of the morning reading your blog - all of it. I'm a bit of a speed reader. :)
One of the things that struck me was how many women I have met who have finally told their own stories of abuse and they were all inspired to do so by a brave warrior such as yourself.
You matter, your words are read by countless strangers who may never contact you, strangers who find strength to fight their own battles by reading about yours.
Tomorrow, someone might read what you wrote today and find hope. Next week, somebody might read what you write tomorrow and find strength.
Hope, to me, is all about tomorrow. Tomorrow will be a better day, and if it isn't, then there is another tomorrow to hope for.
Posted by: ALM | August 27, 2008 at 03:13 PM
Renee - thank you, once again, for your honesty and courage...there is hope in that.
As a counselor, I often have people sitting across from me, in the midst of the aftermath trauma and abuse, asking me how they can have hope, asking where God was in the midst of the horror, and wondering how they could ever trust a God who would ever allow such horrific things. It's at those moments (and many more) that I am so thankful for your story. I tell them to read the journey of a woman who is stumbling towards faith...and hope.
Grace and Peace
Posted by: Amy | August 27, 2008 at 03:25 PM
Thank you for sharing this, Renée. Your honesty helps me be honest amid my own struggles with life and sanity.
Posted by: Mike Morrell | August 27, 2008 at 03:25 PM
Hang in the battle dear sister! Your honesty helps create real spiritual communtiy & hope for all of us.
Posted by: stew | August 27, 2008 at 03:47 PM
Well said.
Posted by: Tiffany Marshall | August 27, 2008 at 04:08 PM
Thanks Renee!
Posted by: GmAN | August 27, 2008 at 04:13 PM
I love survivors. Always have.
People, especially WOMEN, who have been pushed or walked all by themselves right to the edge of their own mortality, who have stared down their demons again and again, who refuse to go gently, who continue to fight back, who keep pulling themselves back up, who don't let the worst thing that ever happened to them be their whole story--- those are my kind of heroes.
Renee is all of that and more.
Posted by: Babybloomr | August 27, 2008 at 04:30 PM
Renee, another amazing post from an amazing author and woman! Thanks for continuing to share your story!
Posted by: Renee | August 27, 2008 at 04:39 PM
Through my own journey and relapses and getting up again, Renee has been a beacon of hope - the ability to call things as they are and yet carry on in spite of them. For me, hope is a woman named (not by her parents) Renee who gets up each morning and decides to live another day.
Posted by: M | August 27, 2008 at 05:41 PM
I'm so grateful that you've held out the Light for us.
Maybe with your kind of honesty, there will be less places for the dark to hide.
Posted by: wilsonian | August 27, 2008 at 06:07 PM
Renee,
Hang in there! Thanks for staying hopeful; many of us rely on people like you to keep our own hope alive.
-
Posted by: Withheld | August 27, 2008 at 06:45 PM
This is beautiful! Thanks for sharing.
Posted by: Lisa | August 27, 2008 at 09:20 PM
You put into words everything about faith that I would say if I could express my feelings. I ask people to read your book so they will understand.
Posted by: Tanya | August 27, 2008 at 10:49 PM
Renee - In so few words you say something so profound that I lingered over this post for quite a while last night. Thank you for sharing your heart - struggles and all.
Posted by: Tina H | August 29, 2008 at 10:12 AM
We are slaves to HOPE and hope is not a feeling. Feelings aren't truth. The truth is that God is loving and present, even when it doesn't feel like it...and even when weare alone in the darkest night with no one to witness us catching a glimmer of the promise of our master. Who is hope. Renee ges that. Its not about happy-go-lucky feelings. Hope comes in knowing the Truth wins.
Posted by: Kim | August 30, 2008 at 01:39 PM