Who I Am

I am who I am. Beautiful, talented, strong, a survivor, a born again Christian, divorced, childless, an aunt to many, in a wheelchair, a survivor, in rehab, too heavy, gray-haired, 47 years old. I am supportive, kind-hearted, respectful, tolerant, accepting, a friend to anybody who needs one, a writer, the birth child of foster parents, epileptic. I am many things, not all of them good or bad. Many people like me, others merely tolerate me, some don’t care for me, some flat don’t like me, but I will not pretend to be anything I’m not. Deal with it, or don’t, the choice is yours. I like myself. I am a child of God and He knows and loves me. Who are you? Let us know.



Your words appear filled with acceptance, even this self-acceptance as your starting point in life. Your self-acceptance appears to accept painful truth about yourself. Your acceptance feels, in the simplest terms, an acknowledgment that you are a limited human being. Your acceptance is direct and it appears your energy is invested in being only who you are. It appears by accepting your limitations it is your way of being responsible for developing yourself within the limitations of your talents. Your foundation, in your faith, appears nothing more and nothing less.

For me, this acceptance is finding faith in my powerlessness and is not so simple. This powerlessness is like sitting in God’s waiting room and is like waiting for the doctor to walk through the patient door. Wait and I wait and more waiting, which I realize could be the darkness of faith. But this waiting is too much like powerlessness for me and for some reason I will project fear and aggression onto these circumstances. I become terrorized, then everything and everyone, even the four walls in the waiting room, become dangerous. If I succeed making my fears more consuming my mental connections go haywire and then the madman attacks.

I have never fell into true craziness or into insane paranoid delusions. I have never got into this frame of mind the room is bugged or someone is secretly plotting against me. But I also have not been nice, verbally to God, about this waiting process. I have even told him, “If you want me dead let’s get the job done.” I have got caught in this frame of mind because identifying with these four walls is nothingness to me and I feel there is nothing true or valuable to believe in. These four walls tell me there is nothing left.

There is also a change happening here where I am beginning to realize by intensifying my involvement with my mental process is not helping me to find security or power, as it is bringing about my own insecurity and powerlessness. I am excluding the good within the “waiting room.” So it seems learning to accept my powerlessness is learning to draw on a Deeper Source and becomes this acceptance. When my acceptance is right there is a great peace here and maybe this is the heart of faith.

Anyway, thank you for making acceptance simple and having the confidence to rest in hope. It appears, in a profound and direct way, God is doing a good job for you. And someday when I can accept being “told” who I am not and let go of my tension in this waiting room acceptance will be simple for me. It even seems this waiting room is inner healing where I no longer discouraged by my limitations nor am I tempted to deny them as you are willing to do. ACCEPTANCE is just a place to begin and awareness becomes the door to this great peace.

In my writing this there is a meaning beyond what I intended to create and mysteriously this acceptance seems to be its own consciousness. Maybe this waiting room is teaching me self-surrender and self-possession, within acceptance, is so deep it can have mystical overtones. I also do not understand what I just wrote because my acceptance is not simple, as to simply accept is within a maybe.

Thanks Karyn as your acceptance offers hope.

Simply putting your thoughts and feelings into words is a step in the healing process. “God’s waiting room” is where we all are. In my experience, God’s work isn’t immediately obvious. He is always at work, but His work’s fruition is in our time. It’s like a paycheck. You work to earn it, and it’s a guarantee, but receiving it takes time. God’s healing is kinda like that, He wills it, and it is so, but receiving it takes the recipient. He healed and made me whole a long time ago, so i survived, and the continuance take my acceptance of the human help i am given, and my utilization of the therapies i have access to. Acceptance of my losses was a big first step for me. Big because with my memory deficit, my limitations seemed to increase everyday. I have been gifted all my life, and my gifts have changed. I can’t speak anymore, but i can with the written word, so i write always. I have always been insecure and shy, but now I am not, because people who are injured like i was rarely survive, let alone maintain intelligence. I am handicapped, so nothing i do can make me look worse than I already do, so why worry. I am a survivor, and you are too. Not everyone can say that. I am saying, and you can tell, I’m over being insecure.
Giving into the madman is a choice. I am often tempted to give in to the crazy witch myself, and sometimes have, and the facility knows when it happens. “There goes Karyn again” as the screaming echoes. I used to get frustrated easily, because my inabilities were always a surprise. That hasn’t happened recently, i don’t think. I still get frustrated, but the banshee has been removed, by the grace of God. He enabled doctors to balance my medication.

There is definitely peace to be found in acceptance. Fighting against something that cannot be pushed away i crazy-making. The prayer goes something like God, give me the strength to change the things i can, the courage to accept the things i cannot, and the wisdom to know the difference. That may not be the known wording, but it’s my prayer.

I agree with you whole heartedly. You inspired me to find who I am if you continue reading I will share with you who I am.

I am a Dancer and weaker physically but strong emotionally. I am Immunodeficient. I am a human. I cry and get upset. I fall and get injured. I’m my own worst enemy. I am amazing. I am a fighter. I am unable to eat. I am tube fed. I am the best me that I can be. I am found. I am a believer. I am trusted. I am loved.

that’s a awesome response Adilyn, wow you are definitely a fighter!!!

Adylin, you seem to know about yourself, so you know who you are. You are still the person you always were, with different needs, desires, and limitations, What is necessary is to accept he person you are now. I decided long ago, that I am still me. I need more now, and am no longer able-bodied, but i am still Karyn. We can’t do everything the same way we used to, but we are still ups,