2 Corinthians 12:9 ESV
But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.
I am struggling so much today. While going through marriage counseling this week, I had the revelation that I have a huge fear problem. I am afraid of everything. I've known for years that I have panic attacks, but I never realized how much I fear people thinking poorly of me. It consumes me and dictates my actions. I just never recognized it!
I cling to my fiance too tightly at times because I don't want him to stray, meanwhile pushing him away. I sometimes cling to my children a bit too tightly as well, not giving them as much independence as they deserve at their respective ages. Sometimes, I don't say specific things at work because I want people to like me. And I can't handle the idea of people NOT getting along with me, even if it's something as simple as someone not feeling well!
So today I found that someone close to me has been spreading lies. Horrible lies. The kind of lies that would knock your breath out of your body anyway, let alone if they're said about you. And of course my first response was fear. Will anyone be able to take me seriously? Will anyone know the truth? What will happen if...? And it just went on and on until I can't handle it anymore.
So here I am, confessing my weakness. I am afraid of what people say about me. I am afraid of having a bad reputation, even though my Savior Jesus came and had NO reputation when he very much deserved the highest honors (Philippians). Why can't I learn to be more like Him?
It is my hope in confessing and recognizing my weakness, that I will allow the Lord to be strong. Lord, take this area of my life, all this fear. Help me to rest in Your love for me instead of worrying about the love of other people. Help me to see your beautiful, perfect love and let it be enough.
08 November 2013
01 November 2013
Moving forward when the past tries to drag you back
A few years ago, I was diagnosed with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). Yes, that is more commonly known as "shell-shock" and frequently occurs in military vets. It also occurs in survivors of domestic violence. Oddly, children are not as likely to have PTSD because the domestic violence situation is their "normal," whereas the adult's brain understands this trauma is not "normal."
So a few years ago, I was at work and had to get in between a large man with dementia trying to hurt a smaller woman. Suddenly, I felt a panic. I had dealt with the man before but never in this context. I had to actually run out of the room once another staff member came in, and lock myself in a small medication closet, falling to the floor and crying. I was in there a good 20 minutes or so, just crying. It was the weirdest experience of my life. I felt utterly helpless and hopeless. I felt ashamed. I felt like I was not present, that I was detached and partly somewhere else. I had some memories of specific past home events over the next few days. I fell into depression.
Eventually, my depression got so bad that I knew I needed help. I couldn't function. All I could do was get my kids to school and get them fed and wash their clothes. We had no quality of life. I cried and slept off and on, but I never slept much at a time due to nightmares. I hospitalized myself and finally began talking to a psychiatrist. He was wonderful! He told me that even though I thought of PTSD as a war disease, I had been in a war zone for 12 years. He had a point.
I began taking anti-depressants and began talking regularly to a therapist. I learned how very vital routine is to my well-being. With routine, there are less out-of-control times where I feel panicky. Sadly, life with four very busy children leaves me with very little routine! I realize I could fight for routine but I am so tired. Too tired to fight. And so depression occasionally rears its ugly head and I feel helpless and out of control again, and then the flashbacks begin. Thankfully I am able to get a handle on it after a few days.
I'm now getting ready to marry a wonderful, kind, gentle man. A man who would never hurt me, never belittle me, never shame me on purpose. A man who prays for me and loves me despite my past. But the PTSD makes me have this fight-or-flight thing emotionally. I push away when I feel even the slightest chance he might do something like that. The offense can be something as slight as looking at me a certain way. I fight imaginary demons - I create them!
One of the symptoms of PTSD is emotional avoidance. I find this to be more true than the "flashback" for me. Though I seem happy and bubbly, it is sometimes just an act. Many times I am just numb inside. Not depressed, not happy, just numb. It is easier to be numb. It is control.
So with a wedding that is looming two months away, what do I do? I say "looming" as a joke, because I love my fiance and desperately want to marry him and share life with him. I want to trust him and the part of me that is "me" (and not PTSD) DOES trust him. He is wonderful. But doesn't he deserve someone who won't sometimes pull back from his touch?
I want to get married. I want to live happily ever after. I just don't know how.
So a few years ago, I was at work and had to get in between a large man with dementia trying to hurt a smaller woman. Suddenly, I felt a panic. I had dealt with the man before but never in this context. I had to actually run out of the room once another staff member came in, and lock myself in a small medication closet, falling to the floor and crying. I was in there a good 20 minutes or so, just crying. It was the weirdest experience of my life. I felt utterly helpless and hopeless. I felt ashamed. I felt like I was not present, that I was detached and partly somewhere else. I had some memories of specific past home events over the next few days. I fell into depression.
Eventually, my depression got so bad that I knew I needed help. I couldn't function. All I could do was get my kids to school and get them fed and wash their clothes. We had no quality of life. I cried and slept off and on, but I never slept much at a time due to nightmares. I hospitalized myself and finally began talking to a psychiatrist. He was wonderful! He told me that even though I thought of PTSD as a war disease, I had been in a war zone for 12 years. He had a point.
I began taking anti-depressants and began talking regularly to a therapist. I learned how very vital routine is to my well-being. With routine, there are less out-of-control times where I feel panicky. Sadly, life with four very busy children leaves me with very little routine! I realize I could fight for routine but I am so tired. Too tired to fight. And so depression occasionally rears its ugly head and I feel helpless and out of control again, and then the flashbacks begin. Thankfully I am able to get a handle on it after a few days.
I'm now getting ready to marry a wonderful, kind, gentle man. A man who would never hurt me, never belittle me, never shame me on purpose. A man who prays for me and loves me despite my past. But the PTSD makes me have this fight-or-flight thing emotionally. I push away when I feel even the slightest chance he might do something like that. The offense can be something as slight as looking at me a certain way. I fight imaginary demons - I create them!
One of the symptoms of PTSD is emotional avoidance. I find this to be more true than the "flashback" for me. Though I seem happy and bubbly, it is sometimes just an act. Many times I am just numb inside. Not depressed, not happy, just numb. It is easier to be numb. It is control.
So with a wedding that is looming two months away, what do I do? I say "looming" as a joke, because I love my fiance and desperately want to marry him and share life with him. I want to trust him and the part of me that is "me" (and not PTSD) DOES trust him. He is wonderful. But doesn't he deserve someone who won't sometimes pull back from his touch?
I want to get married. I want to live happily ever after. I just don't know how.
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