When I Was Silenced, Then I Could Talk

By Rebecca Krell

Do you feel as if you're walking through a valley of despair? Are you tired of living in fear or suffer from a phobia, but dont how to climb out of the valley into victory? In When I Was Silenced, Then I Could Talk, Rebecca Krell takes you through the valley of death and despair, and comes out successful and victorious. Whether dealing with eating disorders, anxiety, illness, death experiences, and failed relationships, Rebecca will show you how God helped her walk through each vale, and climb out to the other side in triumph.

Through vivid and real life experiences, you will walk with her through this journey. She will show you the key to overcoming these crippling fears by letting God take control. When God is in control, the battle can be won! For we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us. (Rom. 8:37)

This book is a great resource for those who just need to know that someone else gets it. Rebecca gets it and prays that the words of this book will flow into the hearts of those who need to read it. No one needs to feel the fear of silence. Everyone needs their time to talk!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Feb 24, 2014
• ISBN: 9781493173778

Book preview

Copyright © 2014 by Rebecca Krell.

Cover designed by Greg Hasel.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

First Edition

Rev. date: 02/18/2014

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris LLC

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

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603296

Contents

Acknowledgements

Prologue

1. The Early Years

2. Another New Beginning

3. My Freshman Year

4. My Sophomore Year

5. My Junior/Senior Years

6. College: My Freshman Year

7. College: My Sophomore and Junior Years

8. College: My Senior Year Part I

9. My Senior Year Part II

10. Agoraphobia: The Beginning

11. Agoraphobia and Relationships

12. Married Life: The Beginning

13. Nogales AZ/Sonora and a Huge Life Change

14. Tucson and Diagnosis #1 (Being Silenced)

15. A Life-Threatening Diagnosis

16. The Quick and Easy Fix Cure

17. My Words to You

DEDICATION

To my God who strengthens me:

I stand in awe and obedience. It is for You I live and I write

To Eric:

I love you and thank you for supporting me in this journey.

To my daughter:

You are the best gift God could have given me. I pray that you will be the woman of God that He intends you to be. I love you.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

F IRST AND FOREMOST, I would like to thank my Heavenly Father for giving me the words to this book. This book is my ultimate dedication to Him. It is out of years of obedience that this book was written. Second, thanks to my wonderful husband who has been with me through the thick and thin. He has walked through most of the valleys with me and stayed by my side. Not too many men would have stayed with their girlfriend through my story, but he did, and later we became husband and wife. I love you, honey. Thanks for believing in me. Third, to my daughter, for being the main reason that I want to be the best person and mother. You are a true gift from God. You allowed me to be a mom, and I love it when you tell me, I’m glad God gave me you! I love you, kiddo! Fourth, to my family and friends that have either supported this book, supported and are in the book, and have just stood by my side praying for me as I wrote this. Thank you for allowing me to add your part in my book (under different names) and continuing to pray and love me as I venture out into the unknown. I love you all.

To Greg Hasel, thank you for your wonderful artwork. I have loved working with you independently, and I am thankful you agreed to design the book cover. Thanks for being a great friend!

To my readers, thank you for getting this book and reading it. May it be a blessing to you, and may it heal you and bring you peace. You can go through trials and be a blessing. Never forget that. I may not know you personally, but this book was put in your hand for a reason. May God continue to bless you.

PROLOGUE

W ELL, IT’S A beautiful day in Arizona. It’s 8 a.m. and I’m dressed and ready to go. Just one problem: I can’t eat for 30 more minutes. So, I wait. As I sit here, in my small multi-purpose room, I listen. No sounds of talking—just silence. My husband and daughter are still fast asleep, and I’m awake in the silence. That word—silence—has become my lifeline. I cling like static to it, as this has become my new life… SILENCE!

My life, it seems, has been filled with many obstacles to overcome. I’m happy to say that God has given me the power to overcome many twists and turns over my years. I’m 37 years old and you may be wondering how this woman, this young woman, can have lived a complete life and yet be only 37? Well, I don’t feel as if my life is over. Far from it. I feel like these tidal waves of events that have crashed over me these past 37 years are actually a new beginning.

By the deafening word—SILENCE—I can now sit and type or talk to you freely as I have never been able to and discuss the many ebbs and flows of my life. Some are very happy and some are filled with sadness or absolute disgust. However, as I share, I want one thing to be etched in your mind at all times. No matter the story, God walked me through it! I would not be sitting here if I didn’t feel God walking me through this next cycle. God is in control and I hope you will see that God works in many ways.

Looking back over my life, I now see His handprint in so many areas—areas I was unable to see before. Are you ready for this journey? It’s now time for me to eat, so go and grab a donut, a bowl of cereal, or a cup of coffee and sit with me and as I tell you about my journey:

When my voice was silenced, the words came out!

1

The Early Years

I T WAS MY third birthday. I awoke and heard sounds coming from the kitchen. I got up and headed out for breakfast. I saw a huge chalkboard with chalk and erasers. Everyone said, Happy Birthday, Becky. I was so excited. I remember sitting at that chalkboard and pretending to be a teacher for hours. This is my first memory; and also my only memory of age three.

At age four, I started preschool. I remember this huge classroom with a reading table, a finger painting station, a water table, a crafts corner, etc. This room was huge. This is also the first time (I realized later in life) that my anxiety surfaced.

Many people thought I was shy. To know me now is to know this is simply not true. I spent much of my time in preschool alone. I didn’t make friends easily and was home sick a lot. My mom said that I had pneumonia often. I remember being sick, but I just thought it was normal. I didn’t realize that I was sicker than most kids; however, I always bounced back.

When Kindergarten arrived, I went to a different school. It was a private, Christian school. Once again I had a hard time making friends. My mom encouraged me to be friendly; and I tried. But every time I wanted to talk, I felt sick to my stomach. By this time, I had been taking private piano lessons for two years. I had my weekly Suzuki lessons and the occasional recital. I was always sick on recital day, but I went. I would sit and shake and my mom would have to push me out of my chair when it was time to play. Besides nervousness, I could never eat if I had to get in front of people. I wondered why.

I could tell a similar story for both first and second grades. For various reasons, I never stayed in the same school and it was always hard making friends. However, the piano lessons remained. The recitals became more frequent, and I found myself not liking who I was and wishing these feelings would go away.

During that time, my mom was a nurse and my father worked at the airport. My father often took care of me when mom would pull long hours at work. I was seven years old, hated how I felt inside, and then… it intensified! One day, while eating chips with my dad, I was told that I could eat whatever I wanted and never worry about gaining weight. He told me this while his side of the family fought with weight issues their whole life. He told me that I could eat what I want and simply get rid of it. I don’t know of too many seven year olds developing bulimia, but I learned it. I didn’t like getting sick, so I would only purge when I overate. I tried to not eat and instead spread food around my plate. When mom was with us, dad would say, Eat three more bites. When mom was gone, I didn’t have to eat. I never asked why, I just did as I was told. That was when I learned to live a lie around people and what a hypocrite was. I knew I was unhappy. I knew I wanted to tell my brother (seven years older than I) what was happening. I wanted to yell at mom. But, I simply withdrew and became quieter.

That was also the year I knew something was wrong with my morning routine. Didn’t everyone play jail with their daddies in bed? Why didn’t he wear clothes? Why did his touching me feel wrong? Why did I hate how he looked at me? Let me state now, for the record, it doesn’t lead to where you think it’s leading. It simply was a wrong way to show affection from a daddy to his daughter. However, I knew it was wrong and I didn’t like how it made me feel.

Somewhere during that year, my father decided he wanted to be a pastor. I remember asking him, You know you have to be a Christian to be a pastor, right? I don’t know where that question came from as a little kid. I just remember his looking at me and saying he was a Christian and he wanted to do this.

Then dad started school. He would be away at times. I remember being happy then. Then we would go visit him and I was always nervous about that. Why did my heart pound? Why did I feel like being sick? Why, God, why? I didn’t know why, but I do now.

I continued on, silenced by fear and never having many friends. I had one very close friend, down the street, but that was it. For several years, I would fight to have friends, but I just didn’t fit in. Then before my third grade year, we moved. My father was finishing his study, but would begin pastoring a tiny church. It was the day of the move that I, finally, learned to ride a bike! I had always been reluctant, but I didn’t want to move, so I got on, learned how to pedal, and decided that I was not moving! However, when the only thing left to load was the bike, it was time to go.

We moved to a super tiny town with a church that was lucky to have 50 or so people come on any given Sunday. The people were great, though. I even made a couple of friends at church. There was also a printing press behind my house, and its owner had a pool. He let me go over and swim a lot. I practically lived there. For me, I felt peace when I was swimming. I could let my worries go in the water.

We found a new piano teacher with a new method of teaching. I had one private lesson and one group lesson each week. The private lessons didn’t bother me, but I hated the group lessons. I would try not to answer questions or play; but the fact was, I was one of the better students in the group. As a result, my mom and the teacher thought it was time I entered piano competitions (in addition to recitals). Once a year I went to a college nearby and I would play for a judge (similar to high school music contests). I would then leave and not know my rating for hours. When the contestants weren’t playing for the judges, we were on the stage of the performing arts center. There were thirteen pianos on stage. We all had to learn the same songs; about thirty minutes worth of music. During these long rehearsals, they would decide which pianists would play what measures and when we would each play. We were all of the same ability, but we varied in age from five to eighteen years. We rehearsed and rehearsed. Then we had a break to meet up with families, eat, and then the concert began.

The concert was fun. I liked this part—playing with thirteen pianos together. We were all listening to each other to make sure that none of us were rushing, going too slow, etc. To the audience, it sounded like a symphony. Following the concert, we could go and sit with our families and then the awards would be given. That was when they announced the results from earlier that day when we played for a judge. I always won first place. That was always the nerve wracking part, to go up on stage… alone!

On that stage were eleven upright pianos and two grand pianos. The best students were allowed to play on the grand pianos and were chosen months before contest time, as we would submit tapes for the professors to listen to ahead of time. My second year, I was moved to a grand piano. It was exciting and nerve wracking, as now I was one of the players that couldn’t hide. I would be seen at all times. I would later find out that all my competitions were at Eastern Illinois University. I loved playing music; I just wanted to do it my own way. I also found myself playing for various churches around the area. The piano teacher and my mom set up several appearances, and each time I was scared breathless. There must be a reason I played like this. I wondered why.

I never stopped piano, but things at home were very different. Once again, I had more issues with eating. My mom would leave for 3 days at a time. She had started school again and, now that dad was a pastor, he could watch me more. I went to public school now, which I hated. I came home and closed the door to my room and came out