Real Life Story Written By Jaime Evors
In 2008, God spoke, “You keep trying to end your life. But I am going to keep intervening because I have a plan for you” as I laid that day in a white hospital bed. Everything in my life that took place up until that point, the sorrows and the victories, swam around in my mind as I tried to make sense of the fact that God himself, had a plan for me.
Soon after that hospitalization, I knew I was to go to Oklahoma for Bible College. Without hesitation, I went. I was newer to faith, and still learning the basics of the Bible. I was excited, vulnerable and naive. I grew by great measure in my faith and in all that God did and does. While attending that college, I met a guy. After being pursued and wooed, we began to date. His family and I would talk on the phone for hours. I dreamed of this family I could have and it was enticing. I was warned by my friends and mentors of these red flags, but my own eyes could not see it. Or simply did not want to. I was slowly drawn away from God. A few months later, I was living across country in the south with his family. When we left the cold winter of Oklahoma and landed in the warmth of the south, I felt sick to my stomach. A part of me knew that I had just gotten myself in to something I wasn’t expecting. But, I wasn’t sure and waited it out. After a few weeks, Christmas came and went, and I knew that I did not want to stay. Something was off. But, I couldn’t quite figure out what exactly. As days turned in to weeks, I began to feel like a puppet. I don’t conform well to other people, so when this began, I had some resistance. They would tell me that what goes on within the family couldn’t go outside their four walls. They controlled who I talked to, what I said, and how acted. I desperately wanted to leave, but was coerced to stay several times by means of being slapped, strangled, thrown onto the ground, and even being put in a shower of cold water during a panic attack. One time in particular, the mother held a butcher knife to her wrists to show what I would cause her to do if I left. I dreaded waking up the next day, every day. I went through psychological, physical, verbal, and sexual abuse during those 8 months. I became so wounded and confused. My past wasn’t one that nurtured what is right and what is wrong, so I naturally thought that it was just me, invaluable me.
But God. I could not deny what He has so kindly spoken to me on that day in 2008. I knew this wasn’t the plan He was referring to. I knew that I needed to flee. With one final attempt, I escaped. I left on a lunch break to never return. I grabbed the few items I could hold and left to head north. As I drove with adrenaline surging, tears streaming, and thoughts racing, I had to keep convincing myself that I was doing the right thing. Everything within me shook and by the next day, I wanted to go back. I panicked. What had I just done? Everything I could have gained, was lost. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as I thought it was? Maybe it’s all my fault? Maybe it can change? But I knew with my failed attempts to leave before, with my many attempts to keep peace, that things weren’t going to change. I needed to accept that fact to keep myself from returning to the abuse. I kept my shaking hands on the steering wheel and didn’t turn back. So, now what?
Life got harder. Leaving something horrific, doesn’t always mean that it’ll be easier on the other side. I had burned bridges, lost my identity, my faith was shaken, I had flashbacks, nightmares, and continually wanted to go back to them. I no longer knew who I was without them, as horrible as it was. That’s what abuse does. That’s what manipulation and coercion does. It strips us of our identity to the point where we can barely, if at all, think for ourselves. We think that it would be easier to go back, than to work through the pain.
But, I just couldn’t go back. I couldn’t. However, with the flashbacks, nightmares, and fear that followed me daily, I stopped eating. I tried to starve the feelings and fell silent. I was crippled in fear from threats to not speak of what took place. Even though I had fled, I was still held hostage in my mind. I took sleeping pills, worked full time, and threw up what I did eat. I punished myself. I took the pain out on myself. I would go for morning runs on the country roads of Ohio, and with each sound of my feet hitting the pavement, I told myself how horrible I was, what mistakes I made, how I deserved this pain, and that I was weak. I would tear myself down so no one else could. I told myself whatever it took to in order to push through the pain of malnourishment. I was tormented, yet somehow, I tried again. I made some calls and sent some emails and found a way to get back out to Oklahoma where I had friends and medical facilities that I knew could help restore me. About six months from when I fled from the south, I made the move back out west. Within 2 days, I saw a doctor. I was told that in 2 weeks I would be dead if I didn’t have an intervention, due to Anorexia Nervosa. Part of me thought, “good.” But God’s spirit in me rose up and I knew I needed to do what it takes.
I received the feeding tube, and picked up my shield and fought harder. I felt as though I was in a desert all of this time. I had secrets know one knew of and at the same time needed to rebuild myself, my identity. It took 2 years of choosing every day to keep moving forward. To keep speaking the truth of God’s Word, to keep spending time with Him by being still or praying, and by spending time with good company. I knew He was faithful. From stories in the Bible, from other peoples lives, and even from experiences in my life. There was no question to that. I guess what I didn’t know, was how. How could I get out of this? I didn’t have a vision, I just had to blindly trust Him every day with every thing and keep doing the next right thing. During that 8 months of time down south, I had met someone and we became friends. Over a year later, after talking every day, encouraging one another, he came to live by me to help take care of me while my strength returned as I was to the point of where I was not able to work. We were best friends. Two years later, we decided to court one another and got engaged. Two months later, we were married. Being that he is the only child, after much time and prayer, we decided to move back south. To that same city, the same area where I was maltreated.
As God heals us, He gives us new perspectives. I took it as an opportunity to face the nightmare that I had been running from and trying to suppress and began to finally heal. The very time frame where satan tried to destroy me, a new life was being born out of it.
Doing that next right thing, led me to today. I am happily married to that best friend, who I think is a saint. I have 3 beautiful little children, a quaint home, and even a cat. I am a certified Life Coach and consider it an honor to work with others to take the next step. He’s not finished. God is never finished. He is all of our good qualities and more. He never left me. He helped me through one step at a time. There’s character traits and dreams that I would not have, had it not been for that healing process. I’ve learned not to discount the hard work of healing. It isn’t about getting from point A to point B. If we let that season mold us, we will come out of the fire stronger than before we went in. Our thoughts are fleeting, but His are eternal. He has a plan for you.
Only He could know the depths that phrase would follow me to and bring me out of again. Only He could know what lied ahead. At my deepest sorrow, He spoke life. Thats who He is and that’s what He does. He’s a redeemer.
God bless you,
Jaime Evors. I am a wife, a mother of 3 and counting. I am certified as a Life Coach through THE AMERICAN SCHOOL OF PROFESSIONAL LIFE COACHING, an ICF accredited program and as well have an associates in Ministry. You can find out more about me at http://www.wavesafterwaves.org/