A Parable - Part I

Imagine with me a healing institution of world-wide renown.

All reports of patients coming out of this facility are glowing.

The healing happening is miraculous.

The caregivers are amazing. 

The hope for every new patient is boundless.  Every prognosis is good.  Every disease is treatable. 

Imagine you are a patient who has heard of this amazing, almost unbelievable place.  You have tried everything else.  Nothing has worked.  You are dying of your disease.  There is NO hope.  The only thing you have left to try is this facility.  You would be willing to do anything it would take - give up everything you have - to go to this place and see if they are everything you have heard.

You travel to this world-renowned hospital and are admitted.  You and those around you know you are dying of your disease.  It was clearly written on your admissions paperwork and your chart.
 
Everyone that checked you in was amazingly caring, and almost excited to see you.  Their excitement rubbed off on you, and you began to have a small seed of hope form that perhaps something could be done for you.  You were left to settle in to your room.

After a while of no one coming to see to your care, you started to wonder what was going on. You start making some noise because you want to experience this world-famous care and healing of which you have heard.

Finally, a nurse comes in and tells you to quiet down.  It seems your excitement about being a new patient here has upset some of the longer-term patients.  Just be patient, your turn will come, you are told.

Somewhat disgruntled, you settle in again, beginning to wonder about the way this place is operated.  About the time you begin to lose hope, the admissions people come by your room to check on you.  They seem a bit upset and bewildered by the lack of care you are receiving, and promise to follow up.  That is the last you see them, but at least they stoked the small fire of hope that had been started.

Some time later another nurse comes by and asks if you have eaten.

"Of course not", you reply, "as no one has brought food."
The nurse looks at you, incredulous, and says, "You're supposed to go down to the cafeteria with everyone else!"
"But", you sputter, "...this is a hospital! I'm supposed to stay here, in my room!"

The nurse explains that everyone eats together in the cafeteria, and that the effort required to get there will be worth it.  You wonder how others, those whose disease is more advanced, are able to get to the cafeteria.  You wonder, but say nothing...only asking where the cafeteria is located, and how you are supposed to get there.

What does PTSD look like?

The month of June is PTSD Awareness Month.  PTSD is something most are aware of, on some level, but really don't know what it looks like, fleshed-out, aside from what they seen on TV or in the movies.  I am here to help with a little more personal level of awareness.

This will probably come as a surprise to some people.

I was diagnosed with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder a few years ago.

What?  I don't LOOK like I have PTSD?  This begs the question, "What does PTSD ACTUALLY look like?"

I could give you the book-definition (from the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, Fourth Edition, Text Revision, pg. 463). You can read the actual entry HERE.

Post-traumatic Stress Disorder is:

"the development of characteristic symptoms following exposure to an extreme traumatic stressor involving direct personal experience of an event that involves actual or threatened death or serious injury, or other threat to one's physical integrity; or witnessing an event that involves death, injury, or a threat to the physical integrity of another person; or learning about unexpected or violent death, serious harm, or threat of death or injury experienced by a family member or other close associate." 

The "characteristic symptoms" are what people usually identify as PTSD, though there are symptoms that are invisible, and relatively hidden to most people.

The symptoms listed in the DSM-IV-TR include:
1. Recurrent and intrusive distressing recollections of the event
2. Recurrent distressing dreams of the event (aka, nightmares)
3. Acting or feeling as if the traumatic event were recurring.
4. Intense psychological distress at exposure to internal or external cues that symbolize or resemble an aspect of the traumatic event
5. Physiological reactivity on exposure to internal or external cues.

Also, there can be two or more of each of the following:
1. difficulty falling asleep or staying asleep
2. irritability or outbursts of anger
3. difficulty concentrating
4. hypervigilence
5. exaggerated startle response

There is more...but we'll stop here for now.  When people think of what PTSD "looks like", they often think in terms of #5 under the symptoms - physiological reactivity - the automatic response to stimuli, learned by our bodies over the course of the trauma.

In reality, my diagnosis falls more along the lines of what is commonly known as "Complicated PTSD", mainly because my "traumatic event" took place over the course of at least 18 years, and affects everything I know about myself, and how I view my life, and others.

So, all of the official stuff aside....

Not funny. Created by my mind trying
to make sense of my pain. 

I have nightmares.  Recurring ones.

I have trouble getting to sleep...yes, I am very much a night owl.

For a LONG time, I flinched every time anyone close to me moved fast.

I don't trust.  Anyone.  You're not singled-out for my lack of trust...believe me.  (this makes life SUPER-difficult.) I trust Jason the most...and my lack of trust drives him bonkers some days.

I have a VERY hard time releasing things.  Things are safe.  People are not.

I have a VERY hard time not over-thinking.  Really, I over-think EVERYTHING.

I have a pretty high wall.  Several of them.  If you think you are close to me, chances are that there is another wall you haven't even seen yet.  I don't think my counselor has seen all of them yet.

I am anxious about most things.  I TRY not to be, but the anxiety is there, whether I want it to be, or not.

I have difficulty concentrating...if there is too much noise, if there are too many people, if there is chaos.

I have issues with irritability and anger and can be a BEAR.  I'm sorry.  I don't like it, either.

People and events that remind me of some of my past experiences tend to trigger more anxiety, anger, depression, hypervigilence, and nightmares.

Again, there is more...but I don't want this to all be negative.

I have lived with this diagnosis for a long time before actually knowing what to call it.
It has been my reality as long as I can remember.
It is how I function.
I don't know life apart from this set of symptoms.

Since the point in time when I began to recognize that my reactions were not normal, I have wanted to change them, and have prayed and worked towards that end.  Thankfully, I am not the person I used to be...God has changed a LOT about me...and He is still in that process of growing and changing me.

Several verses have been a comfort to me as I have worked through the repercussions of my PTSD.

2 Timothy 1:7 YLT
"for God did not give us a spirit of fear, but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind;" 

Romans 12:2 YLT
"and be not conformed to this age, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, for your proving what is the will of God -- the good, and acceptable, and perfect."

There is HOPE.  God IS transforming my mind with His love, and His Word...I don't have to be stuck in this former way of thinking...I definitely look forward to the transformation being complete!!



*PSA: If you have PTSD, DO NOT google images of nightmares.  DO NOT.

More MORE.

Today was another in the series at Grace Chapel on MORE.
(You can watch the sermon here.)

I took notes.

So, you'll get my notes from the sermon.  And maybe a little more....




Bryan Wilkerson 
MORE - The Super-Natural Life

Super-hero movies are the big hits for the summer.  

The draw of them is seen in the possibility of being better than we are.

In reality, we ARE made to do and be more. Super-Naturally.  We cannot live up to those possibilities on our own. Even as believers. 

Reality means we go back to our old ways, habits, etc. 

From Romans 7 - what is wrong with me? I want to be different, more, but I still do the old things. I do the things I don't want to do. 

Why don't we find the victory we so desire?

Galatians 1:1-2, 6-7; 3:1-3, 

The Galatians have traded the good news of trust for the bad news of trying harder. 

After trusting God for forgiveness, we then go back to doing it ourselves to change ourselves. 

Galatians 2:20 

We can't live this life in the natural. It can only be done in the super-natural. 

In the same way a glove can do no work without a hand in it, so we cannot change without the Holy Spirit in us.  

Galatians 5:16-18 

Our natural self cannot do anything new and different without the help of the Holy Spirit. 

Galatians 5:22-25 talks about the Fruit of the Spirit.  This is NOT something we produce on our own, but is evidence of the Spirit within us.  

John Ortburg give an example of using a row boat vs a sailboat. 
Some of us live the Christian life as if we are rowing, but with the Holy Spirit it is like being in a sailboat. 

Spirit=Wind. 

We are not passive. 
We walk in step with the spirit.  
We set our sails to catch the wind. 

A Super-Hero serves thru the power of the Holy Spirit. 

How to live the abundant life: 

1. Get acquainted with the Spirit
John 13-16, acts 2, Romans 8, Galatians 5, I Corinthians 
Chuck Swindoll, Andy Stanley

2. Invite the Holy Spirit into your daily life. 

3. Yield to the Spirit at critical moments 

MORE.

The current preaching series at Grace Chapel is entitled "More: Life, Love, Spirit".  It has been a refreshing and much-needed deeper look at walking a more fulfilled and Christ-filled life.  I have really enjoyed it.

This morning was no different.  Our campus pastor Dave Ripper spoke today, and while I did not get everything written down, I DID get the part that really impacted me.

Dave's main point was: "To experience More, LOVE more, and FEAR less."

He talked a bit about Loving more, but the FEAR was what jumped out at me.

His points:
To FEAR less:
1) REALLY trust God.  (2 Timothy 1:7, and Hebrews 13:6)
2) Receive the love of God.  (1 John 4:7-9)

Interesting to note....MY verse in recent years has been 2 Timothy 1:7, and Jason's life-verse is Hebrews 13:6.

FEAR.  Life is so much MORE without FEAR.
I know so many verses about fear.
"Perfect LOVE casts out FEAR."
My favorite:  "for God did not give us a spirit of fear, but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind;" (Young Living Translation).  
Jason's life-verse: "So we say with confidence, “The Lord is my helper; I will not be afraid. What can mere mortals do to me?"

I used to think that I NEEDED to "think about" things for it all to go well.  If I wasn't constantly "thinking about" what **MIGHT** go wrong, or what others *might* be thinking about me, or how to prevent what *might* happen to my children, I was not being conscientious in my parenting, wife-ing, person-ing.  

(yes, I know I just made up those words.  You're welcome.  Please feel free to use them.)   

The very sad thing was that my "thinking about" whatever I was fearing might happen only created MORE fear.  In fact, I was not "thinking about" things, but was WORRYING myself sick.  

I remember distinctly the day that I gave myself permission to stop worrying about everything.  I remember realizing that my worrying wouldn't change whether or not Jason had a wreck on his motorcycle, or whether my kids were hurt, or bullied, or victimized, or whether people would like me or not.  It was a HUGE weight off to realize that I could just STOP, and the world was not going to end.  

I realize this sounds simplistic.  
I am guessing that some of you already have this down pat.  
I am guessing that there are others who still feel as if the world will stop of they jump off of their particular worry-wheel.  

Let me reassure you.  
The world did NOT stop.  
As a matter of fact, I doubt that many others recognized the change.  
I know that Jason did.  In fact, he was HAPPY for me.  

Let me also make clear that I HAVE NOT arrived.  
I am still fearful.  
Some days I slip back into my old patterns of worry.  

The difference now is that I KNOW I can just stop the worry.  
I KNOW that there is SO MUCH MORE.  
I KNOW that if I can stop the FEAR, there is SO MUCH more room in my life for LOVE.  
Because Perfect LOVE casts out FEAR.  

You can now go see the sermon for yourself....
EDITED to add the link for the sermon.

REPOST: May 11, 2011

Originally written May 11, 2011, and titled "A Place to Begin", this was written while Jason was deployed to Bahrain, and I was a full-time student at Regent University.  This post really reflects where I am today.  I have since finished school, and have been in counseling the whole time.  Some days I feel as if I have made no progress whatsoever, and some days I feel as if I have made a lot of progress.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Some days I feel totally disconnected from the world.
I feel like an orphaned child,
Unwanted,
Unloved,
a "whipping boy" in the family where I have been placed.

Some days I feel like the king of the universe.
I feel as if I can take on anything,
do anything,
be anything.

Some days - most days - I feel as if no one cares who I am,
what I feel,
what direction I go.

There are things that I know in my head to be true, which I am afraid I will never feel inside of me.

I KNOW that I am loved.
"I have loved you with an everlasting love..." Jeremiah 31:3
I know that my husband loves me...that I *do* feel, sometimes.
I know that my children love me.

I KNOW that I have potential, promise, possibility.
I KNOW that I am a good mother.
I KNOW that I am a good student.

I do not feel any of those things...except the *rarely* feeling loved.

I doubt myself.
I doubt my abilities.
I beat myself up over things that are not my fault.
I battle the tapes that play in my head on a daily basis....
...those tapes that say I am not enough...
...not good enough, not pretty enough, not thin enough, not cheerful enough, not spiritual enough, not industrious enough, not organized enough, not a good enough friend.
I feel like if I only *tried* harder I could be/do enough.

So I battle on.
I am in counseling.
I am in a body of believers, learning and studying, and fellowshipping, and ministering.

This journey I am on is not easy.
I can't just "snap out of it," whatever "it" may be today.
I am learning how my past affects me on a daily basis, and I don't like it.
I am relearning things about how others see me...*VERY* different from how I see myself.
I am trying to give myself grace...room to grow and change, and to stop beating myself up.

Well, THAT was helpful (or NOT).

I have lived in Christian circles ALL of my life.

One of my first outings as a newborn was to go to church.

I went to church, and school, and every single extra-curricular activity with the same people.

For a lot of years every single relationship I had was with someone who claimed to be a Christian.

Most of the advice I received over the years has come from Christian sources.  Word-of-mouth, preachers, Sunday School teachers and school teachers, parents, youth leaders, writers.  All Christians.  Most very STRONG believers.

I have learned a LOT over the years about Christians and advice.

I have learned that Christians LOVE to give advice.  We KNOW we have a corner on the market of TRUTH, and we have to share it...because that is what the Gospel is all about.  We forget that some of the stuff we have heard as truth is just someone's opinion, or that the truth we speak may do more harm than good.

I have learned that we are all good at repeating things we have heard from others.  And that we are not necessarily good at verifying whether what we repeat is good or helpful.   Because of my next point, things that are not true will still be part of how I view myself, even after they have been proven untrue.




I have learned that, whether or not what I have been told is good or helpful, I ALWAYS internalize a message about ME when I hear it.  I internalize "do more", "try harder", "trust more".  I hear that I am not enough.  Not good enough, not strong enough, not trusting enough, that I don't have enough faith.



I have learned that living in a fallen world means that the advice we give, the truths we know, and the care that we try to express to others can all be misinterpreted, misapplied, twisted to mean something that was not meant.

I have learned that even very good people and strong believers can give bad advice.







I am still in the middle of the process of learning how to deal with advice without basing my view of myself on the advice given by other people.  I know that not everyone knows this.  I also know that there are some people's advice that needs to be thrown out with the garbage.  I am learning who to trust, and who to politely listen to and NOT to take their advice to heart.  It is a process, like the rest of my healing journey.  I hope that people are willing to show me the grace that they also hope to receive.

How do I cry?

(and what does this have to do with my lack of feeling connected?!?)

I regularly see a counselor.  In my profession (Clinical Mental Health Counselor), we call it supervision...except that *I* really need this therapy.  I have seen a LOT of therapists over the years.  Good ones, not-so-good ones, and really great ones.  They have all been instrumental in getting me to THIS place in my healing.  I am grateful for the work they have done with me.

My most recent therapist is good for me.  I don't always like her.  I don't always agree with her.  But she is good for me.  She challenges me.  I need that.

This week, we were talking about how I have a VERY hard time connecting with people.  For as long as I can remember, I have felt like people felt more connected to me than any connection I felt for them.  It has been awkward.  It has been lonely.

I have people I consider my friends.  I enjoy spending time with them.  I miss them when we move.  But I have never had a close enough friend who actually came and visited me after we left the area.  I AM still friends with people from high school, and especially friends from college, but again, no one visits.  Really, my family doesn't visit, either.

So, my therapist and I were exploring why that was the case...why DON'T I have friends with whom I feel a deep connection?

She made an observation that originally put me on the defense.  She said that I don't connect with people because I do not interact on an emotional level.  All of my interactions are on an intellectual "head" level.  It is easy.  It is safe.  I won't get hurt.

This realization stings.  I have worked long and hard to NOT been seen as overly emotional.  I remember crying at the drop of a hat.  I remember being so angry that I scared myself (knife-throwing is not just a circus-trick!).  I was told I was a cry-baby, and to stop being such a stereo-typical hysterical female.  I was told that my crying was an attempt at emotional blackmail and manipulation.  My opinions, hurts, and frustrations were dismissed because I cried when I felt things deeply.

So, I quit crying.  For a LONG time.  It was not healthy.  It was lonely, and it was hard.

Then I started my healing journey, and allowed myself to cry again.  And THAT was really REALLY helpful in the healing process.  And I cried a LOT.

But life (God!) has a way of cycling us back through things, so that we can learn lessons from our repeated experiences.  And when Jason deployed in 2010/2011, my tears became depleted.  Besides, I had to be strong for my kids.  And then Jason was home, and was a pastor, and I had to be strong and "on" for the people in our church.  And more hard things assaulted us, and I still had to be strong.  So, I was right back to suppressing the tears.

So this brings us to NOW.  Life is still hard, and I still need to be strong.  And the tears that I now WANT to cry won't come.  They have been suppressed for so long that I find it hard to let them out.  I NEED to let them flow.  I need friends who are able to sit with me through the tears, and to help walk me through the process of tears and anger and a normal range of emotions, and still be there on the other side of the flood.

I don't have a lot of answers for how this plays out.
My friends that feel safe to me are more than 12 hours away.
Besides, my life is full and good.  Some days I don't want to rock the boat.
But there is more...Oh, so much more...and I want to be free to experience the whole spectrum of emotions.