(If you missed it, click here for part 1)
I didn't connect this struggle of faith with hopelessness
until one very dark afternoon while waiting in the carpool line at my
daughters' school. I had been struggling through several very days of
dark moods when my friend Chez, who had been very concerned about me
when I stopped talking to him, called me on the phone as I sat waiting
for school to get out. He suggested to me that what I was feeling with
regard to God sounded like hopelessness and I knew at once that he was
right. I realised when he said it that I had cringed at the sound of the
word and that I'd been actively avoiding using that word. I knew that
the painful, gaping hole inside me was there because of a lack of hope.
You would think that knowing this might help, but it only seemed to make
it worse. I sank deeper into despair and grew more and more
disconnected from my faith and, subsequently, from any desire to continue living.
To
make a long story short, a flicker of light appeared in March of 2015.
That's when I attended a Lenten ladies' devotion at our parish that was
led by our family's beloved friend, Fr. B. After the devotion ended and
everyone was chatting and nibbling on snacks, I went to say
hello to Fr. B as it had been a good year or so since we'd seen each
other. After our initial hellos, he asked how I was. I didn't want to burden him with my troubles, but something in the tone of his voice when he asked the question reminded me that he is more than just a priest, but a dear friend. That reminder of our treasured friendship undid my resolve and any attempt at
trying to pretend I was "just fine" completely crumbled. In a choked
up voice, I told him that things were hard and I'd had much better. He
looked at me with such compassion that I felt myself start to cry a
little bit. He handed me a napkin, gave me a hug, and said he'd be praying for me. That alone was a priceless gift, but then he told me to send him an email and
we'd get together at his parish and pray about it. I did just that and
a week or so later, we met together.
I'll admit that at that first meeting, I
wasn't very keen on the idea of praying at all and told Father as much.
He understood and before insisting that we pray anyway, he heard my
confession and gave me the anointing of the sick. After those two
sacraments, we began to pray -- or rather he prayed. I sat beside
him and as the words of the prayers washed over me, the dam burst and I
bawled like a baby. When Father finished praying, we talked briefly
while I wiped my face and then we walked over to the main church and he
gave me communion before leaving me there by myself to pray. As I knelt
there in the church, a sense of calm stole over me that I hadn't felt
in a very long time. I had promised Father that I would stay for at
least 10 minutes, but somewhere in the midst of that silence, 10 minutes
stretched into an hour without my even noticing it.
After
that meeting, we began to meet regularly, about 1-2 times a month for
spiritual direction and prayer and over time, that increased to weekly
at times based on my need (and his schedule) along with keeping in close
touch by email as well. What grew out of those spiritual direction
meetings was a very slow and very tenuous renewed relationship with God.
In the past year and a half, there have been moments when I have
wondered if what I was feeling stir within me was a spark of hope, but
every time I have felt this -- whatever this is -- it has gone as quickly
as it came, snuffed out by fear, PTSD triggers, or the circumstances of
life. I have longed for hope to return and it has remained elusive and
also something that I simply cannot bring myself to believe that I will
ever have again.
And yet.....here we are and it's time
to choose another word for the year and I'm being nudged by the Holy
Spirit to choose "hope" as my word for 2017. I felt this insistent nudge
about a week or so ago and immediately refused to entertain the idea.
I've continued to feel it since then and every time I have shut the idea
down so fast that if it had a head, it would spin. Nope. Nope. Nope.
BIG old NOPE. Think of Dana Carvey's impersonation of George H. W. Bush
where he says, "Nope, not gonna do it. Wouldn't be prudent at this
juncture." That's basically where I'm at right now.
The
Holy Spirit even went so far as to nudge me to mention this idea to
Pendragon during our last session and to Gray last night. Obviously,
Pendragon didn't push me and neither did Gray, but I know that both of
them would be encouraged if I did decide to take the plunge and make
"hope" my word for this coming year. The thing is, I can't do it because
of how I know it would make them feel. If I chose this for any reason
other than a desire within myself, I think it would be a miserable
failure.
And yet....and yet this nudge is persistent.
Do you know how I know this nudge is from the Holy Spirit? It's because
everything within me -- every instinct, every gut reaction, every fiber
of my being -- is screaming at the top of its voice,
"Noooooooooooooo!!!!" and as much as I want to ignore this nudge to do
it, I simply can't. It's not that it's louder than my own voice, but
that it's just as loud and inexhaustibly, relentlessly determined not to
let me wiggle or headbutt my way out of this.
So here
I am on the edge of 2016 becoming 2017, still resisting and still
scared. I know I need to just bite the bullet, say "Okay" and make the
commitment, but for whatever reason, I just can't. Then why write this
long essay about words and this subject? Because I needed to write it
and because I know that despite not beginning the new year with a new
word, this isn't over yet. It's only just beginning.
In
the meantime, pray for me. God knows that not only did I need to write
this, but that I need to do it too and only He can help me find the
courage to plumb the depths of this virtue and learn how to find it,
embrace it, and allow it to grow in my heart once again.
Showing posts with label move. Show all posts
Showing posts with label move. Show all posts
Saturday, December 31, 2016
One Word 365 Recap and Thoughts on 2017
Eleventh Doctor: Vincent, can I help?
Vincent van Gogh: It is so clear you cannot help. And when you leave, and everyone always leaves, I will be left once more with an empty heart and no hope.
Eleventh Doctor: My experience is that there is, you know, surprisingly, always hope.
I'm not gonna lie y'all. It was a rough year for me personally. It was also a year that turned my world upside down in a way that was really difficult (and still is to a great degree), but that will, I think, eventually wind up being positive. The jury is still out on that, but my therapist Pendragon said something at our most recent session on Thursday that he hasn't said in a long time. Actually, he used a word that he hasn't dared to use in a long time -- but more on that later.
A couple of years ago I discovered this thing called One Word 365. Basically, the idea is that you select a word for the year to be a kind of focus word, if you will, that you allow to influence and change you mentally/emotionally, physically, or spiritually. For 2015, I chose two words because as much as I tried, I couldn't shake the idea that I needed to embrace both of them -- write and follow. The first one was chosen because I had just come off the 2014 Write 31 Days challenge in October and I wanted to commit myself to writing in my blog more regularly and keeping up with it instead of just throwing it to the side. In the two years that have been since, I've had ups and downs, but I think I've managed to write at least one entry each month and some months, more than one. That may not seem like much, but it's a start. I chose "follow" as a word because I was struggling spiritually with wanting to follow after Christ. I've spent pretty much my entire life following Christ, but had gone through a trauma so severe that it had shaken my faith to the deepest levels. I wanted a reminder of what I had always done and that I knew deep down that I still wanted to do -- follow Him.
For 2016, I kept my 2015 words and added a third -- move. In 2015, I participated in my first ever Out of the Darkness Overnight Walk and struggled physically much more than I wanted to do. After only completing about 1.5 miles of the total 18, I felt defeated and I knew that although I had emotionally been struggling, I wasn't in the physical shape I needed or wanted to be either. I also knew that I needed to lose weight and make some changes to better my health, so I decided that a good first step would be to start moving more. To that end, I joined a local gym so that I could start walking and lifting some weights and in April, I got a Fitbit tracker to help motivate me to take more steps each day. I can't say that I suddenly became a fitness fanatic, but I did get more steps in this year and as a result, I lost a little weight and got in a little better shape. This year I completed 7 miles of the 18 during the Out of the Darkness Overnight walk and that was with the addition of taking a nasty tumble and mildly injuring myself. So although it wasn't a hugely different year with regard to fitness, it was a better year than the one before it and it is the beginning of a journey that I'm going to continue this year.
Speaking of this year, I suppose it's time to tell you about what happened the other night in Pendragon's office. You see, out of deference to how much he knows I've struggled with it, there is a word that he has studiously avoided using for the most part over the last three and a half years. He knows how much this word has caused me anguish and buckets of tears. He knows how many hours I've spent in his office talking around this word, afraid to even breathe it aloud. Because of that, he hasn't pressed me on it, but during our conversation on Thursday, he went out on a limb and said that he felt like the things I've been learning with my psychologist Dr. D have been beneficial and that the fact that I've been able to use those skills is a good reason for hope.
Hope.
I have to be honest. Just typing that scares the heck out of me. I have been scared for almost four years to have hope. It is to the point that in the beginning, I couldn't make myself utter the word aloud, not even in its more common sense (like "I hope you have a great birthday."), much less talk about it in any depth or use the word in its theological sense. A lot of my reluctance to talk about it has come from the fact that part of the theological sense of it has to do with trusting God. For someone who has trusted God her whole life, that ought to be easy, but trauma has a funny way of changing the most fundamental things about a person in ways that he or she never thought possible.
You see, the trauma that I endured and the PTSD that came about as a result of it also created a deep pit of anger within me and a quite a lot of that anger was directed towards God. I felt deserted by Him in my greatest hour of need, despite having cried out to him amidst the ordeal I went through. It was as though He had vanished completely. The silence was deafening and the sense of His presence which had always been so real to me, was gone so completely it was as though I had never felt it at all. The combination of the trauma itself plus feeling so completely abandoned by God shook my faith so much that for a very long time, I wanted nothing to do with God or even anything associated with God in any way. It got so bad that I eventually began to doubt my faith and struggle with the temptation to turn away from God completely.
(Please click here for part 2.)
Vincent van Gogh: It is so clear you cannot help. And when you leave, and everyone always leaves, I will be left once more with an empty heart and no hope.
Eleventh Doctor: My experience is that there is, you know, surprisingly, always hope.
*****************
A couple of years ago I discovered this thing called One Word 365. Basically, the idea is that you select a word for the year to be a kind of focus word, if you will, that you allow to influence and change you mentally/emotionally, physically, or spiritually. For 2015, I chose two words because as much as I tried, I couldn't shake the idea that I needed to embrace both of them -- write and follow. The first one was chosen because I had just come off the 2014 Write 31 Days challenge in October and I wanted to commit myself to writing in my blog more regularly and keeping up with it instead of just throwing it to the side. In the two years that have been since, I've had ups and downs, but I think I've managed to write at least one entry each month and some months, more than one. That may not seem like much, but it's a start. I chose "follow" as a word because I was struggling spiritually with wanting to follow after Christ. I've spent pretty much my entire life following Christ, but had gone through a trauma so severe that it had shaken my faith to the deepest levels. I wanted a reminder of what I had always done and that I knew deep down that I still wanted to do -- follow Him.
For 2016, I kept my 2015 words and added a third -- move. In 2015, I participated in my first ever Out of the Darkness Overnight Walk and struggled physically much more than I wanted to do. After only completing about 1.5 miles of the total 18, I felt defeated and I knew that although I had emotionally been struggling, I wasn't in the physical shape I needed or wanted to be either. I also knew that I needed to lose weight and make some changes to better my health, so I decided that a good first step would be to start moving more. To that end, I joined a local gym so that I could start walking and lifting some weights and in April, I got a Fitbit tracker to help motivate me to take more steps each day. I can't say that I suddenly became a fitness fanatic, but I did get more steps in this year and as a result, I lost a little weight and got in a little better shape. This year I completed 7 miles of the 18 during the Out of the Darkness Overnight walk and that was with the addition of taking a nasty tumble and mildly injuring myself. So although it wasn't a hugely different year with regard to fitness, it was a better year than the one before it and it is the beginning of a journey that I'm going to continue this year.
Speaking of this year, I suppose it's time to tell you about what happened the other night in Pendragon's office. You see, out of deference to how much he knows I've struggled with it, there is a word that he has studiously avoided using for the most part over the last three and a half years. He knows how much this word has caused me anguish and buckets of tears. He knows how many hours I've spent in his office talking around this word, afraid to even breathe it aloud. Because of that, he hasn't pressed me on it, but during our conversation on Thursday, he went out on a limb and said that he felt like the things I've been learning with my psychologist Dr. D have been beneficial and that the fact that I've been able to use those skills is a good reason for hope.
Hope.
I have to be honest. Just typing that scares the heck out of me. I have been scared for almost four years to have hope. It is to the point that in the beginning, I couldn't make myself utter the word aloud, not even in its more common sense (like "I hope you have a great birthday."), much less talk about it in any depth or use the word in its theological sense. A lot of my reluctance to talk about it has come from the fact that part of the theological sense of it has to do with trusting God. For someone who has trusted God her whole life, that ought to be easy, but trauma has a funny way of changing the most fundamental things about a person in ways that he or she never thought possible.
You see, the trauma that I endured and the PTSD that came about as a result of it also created a deep pit of anger within me and a quite a lot of that anger was directed towards God. I felt deserted by Him in my greatest hour of need, despite having cried out to him amidst the ordeal I went through. It was as though He had vanished completely. The silence was deafening and the sense of His presence which had always been so real to me, was gone so completely it was as though I had never felt it at all. The combination of the trauma itself plus feeling so completely abandoned by God shook my faith so much that for a very long time, I wanted nothing to do with God or even anything associated with God in any way. It got so bad that I eventually began to doubt my faith and struggle with the temptation to turn away from God completely.
(Please click here for part 2.)
Monday, September 5, 2016
On Faith, Being Real, and Writing
I am a Christian. More specifically, I am a Roman Catholic Christian. I realise that this doesn't come as a shock to many of you who read this and if you're halfway observant, it probably doesn't come as a big surprise even if this is your first visit to my blog (I mean the blog name is a dead giveaway).
So why am I stating this again? Because I've been wondering exactly how obvious a thing it is to those who read or glance at my blog on a regular or semi-regular basis. I don't hide my faith here, but I don't shout it from the rooftops either. It's not that I am averse to shouting about it or being bold in proclaiming it, but rather that my faith is such a deep part of me that it naturally comes to the surface when the need arises. I've always viewed it as a kind of organic thing in the writing of this blog.
My goal, when it comes to evangelisation, is to be bold when necessary, but to also be completely real. That desire to be completely real is why you don't see a scripture verse in every blog post or even something related to my faith. I don't recite scripture verses or talk about faith absolutely every time someone sees me in real life, so why would I write about it every single time I write something here in this blog?
Real life is messy, sweaty, disordered, frustrating, difficult, and complicated a lot of the time and so are most people. Yes, we can all clean ourselves up and put our best foot forward when necessary, but most of life is lived in those moments of earthiness when we're not at our best. That's why you won't see a shiny blog banner or tons of carefully crafted graphics or a professionally crafted layout where everything coordinates with everything else. It's just not who I am or what I'm about. It's not the real me.
Many of my fellow bloggers who write about faith are kind of the opposite of me and it made me wonder if perhaps my sort of organic approach to evangelisation meant that my faith was in the shadows and not as apparent as it needed to be. That's the purpose of this, I guess. I want to be sure that who I am is not getting lost in the shuffle.
To that end, I am going to try to write some more about what my faith means to me. One thing that I keep wanting to write up (for myself and to share with others) is the story of how I became a Catholic. There are other topics I want to write about too. I hope you'll read along with me as I write and leave me some comments. I'd especially love to write about any topics you've always wondered about with regard to Catholicism. If you're concerned about me or my salvation as a Catholic, feel free to let me know that and I'll do my best to write something about it.
I'll be continuing to write about mental health/illness topics as I go along, but I want to focus a bit more on faith too. If you like that I'm more laid back and organic, don't worry. I'm not changing that. I'll just be writing about faith a bit more purposefully at times.
Until next time...
Pax Christi (Peace of Christ)!
So why am I stating this again? Because I've been wondering exactly how obvious a thing it is to those who read or glance at my blog on a regular or semi-regular basis. I don't hide my faith here, but I don't shout it from the rooftops either. It's not that I am averse to shouting about it or being bold in proclaiming it, but rather that my faith is such a deep part of me that it naturally comes to the surface when the need arises. I've always viewed it as a kind of organic thing in the writing of this blog.
My goal, when it comes to evangelisation, is to be bold when necessary, but to also be completely real. That desire to be completely real is why you don't see a scripture verse in every blog post or even something related to my faith. I don't recite scripture verses or talk about faith absolutely every time someone sees me in real life, so why would I write about it every single time I write something here in this blog?
Real life is messy, sweaty, disordered, frustrating, difficult, and complicated a lot of the time and so are most people. Yes, we can all clean ourselves up and put our best foot forward when necessary, but most of life is lived in those moments of earthiness when we're not at our best. That's why you won't see a shiny blog banner or tons of carefully crafted graphics or a professionally crafted layout where everything coordinates with everything else. It's just not who I am or what I'm about. It's not the real me.
Many of my fellow bloggers who write about faith are kind of the opposite of me and it made me wonder if perhaps my sort of organic approach to evangelisation meant that my faith was in the shadows and not as apparent as it needed to be. That's the purpose of this, I guess. I want to be sure that who I am is not getting lost in the shuffle.
To that end, I am going to try to write some more about what my faith means to me. One thing that I keep wanting to write up (for myself and to share with others) is the story of how I became a Catholic. There are other topics I want to write about too. I hope you'll read along with me as I write and leave me some comments. I'd especially love to write about any topics you've always wondered about with regard to Catholicism. If you're concerned about me or my salvation as a Catholic, feel free to let me know that and I'll do my best to write something about it.
I'll be continuing to write about mental health/illness topics as I go along, but I want to focus a bit more on faith too. If you like that I'm more laid back and organic, don't worry. I'm not changing that. I'll just be writing about faith a bit more purposefully at times.
Until next time...
Pax Christi (Peace of Christ)!
Saturday, May 14, 2016
Update on stuff
Hey friends! This is going to be a longer update than I normally do, just to give you a heads up.
I know it's been a while since I've written in this blog, so I wanted to pop in and give a quick update. Life has been kind of stressful in the last month or so and it's made me struggle with trying to find any inspiration. It seems that occasionally I get a particular blog post idea in my head and then by the time I have the energy to get around to it, it's gone. The other thing that's been happening a lot lately is that I just never seem to have the energy to manage even opening my laptop so I can write something.
So what's going on in my world? Well, some transitions, a significant milestone, and a few other things.
The transitions are mostly to do with some changes with Gray's work schedule and how that's affecting me. It's been about two weeks since the changes went into effect and I'm still struggling to get used to it. There were some real frustrations with the changes early on as I was afraid they were going to make it worse for me with regard to what I need to do to see to my mental health (counselling, spiritual direction, and EMDR therapy), but after several conversations together with Gray, a few with Pendragon, and a few between Gray and his boss, the knot of tension in my gut that's been there for a good three weeks has finally eased.
As for milestones, well, Miss AB had her First Holy Communion on April 30th. She looked absolutely beautiful and it was such a joyful and meaningful Mass for her and our whole family. My awesome mom-in-law Balinda flew down the Thursday beforehand and stayed w/us the whole weekend. My folks came on the day along with AB's godmother (plus her hubby and 3 kids) and her godfather, who drove in from out of state. After Mass, we enjoyed the party in the parish hall and then went out to the Olive Garden to celebrate w/my folks, Balinda, and AB's godfather. It was a wonderful meal and I think everyone had a great time -- most of all AB who received a whole bunch of presents from everyone.
As for the rest, the bulk of it has been me getting ready for my trip to New York City to walk in my second Out of the Darkness Overnight Walk (click the link if you'd like to donate as I'm still working toward my goal!). I've been doing a good bit of walking at the gym and the park to get my body in better shape to actually do the walking that's going to be required. Additionally, I finally got my hotel and flight nailed down and am steadily working on the things I want to do in my limited time there that weekend. I've never been to NYC and have wanted to go since I was a kid, so this is super exciting for me. I just wish I had more than just the weekend to spend exploring and seeing all the wonderful things NYC has to offer. On my list are:
One other thing of note that has been going on of late is that with much fear and trepidation, I began seeing a psychologist, Dr. D (not to be confused with my regular therapist Pendragon), who specialises in PTSD and is trained and certified to do EMDR treatments. Given my past experiences with mental healthcare professionals, it was really hard to go to that first appointment. Gray went with me to offer support, encouragement, and took over the responsibility of filling out the requisite new patient paperwork. My stomach, back, shoulders, and arms were tied up in knots of tension and anxiety and despite Pendragon's very positive view of Dr. D, I didn't want to go through with the appointment at all. It took all I had to make myself follow him down the hall from the waiting room to his office. Once I got through that appointment, it made it a little easier the next time. I'll admit though that although I've now seen Dr. D three times, there's still a part of me which is nervous about fully letting my guard down. Overall though, it's been a positive experience.
Dr. D is a nice man, has a decent sense of humour, and seems quite concerned to make the experience of therapy as comfortable for me as possible. He's also very smart and knows a lot about PTSD in a way that Pendragon doesn't. I've already learned more about it than I knew before and given Dr. D's expertise, I now have a formal diagnosis of PTSD. I wasn't looking for a diagnosis, but now that I have one, I feel a kind of relief. That may sound odd, but one of the lies that PTSD sometimes tells you is that what you went through wasn't that bad or that you're blowing it all out of proportion. In other words, you start to feel like you're a bit crazy for feeling the way you do. Having a formal diagnosis of PTSD gives validity to the feelings I've had and the symptoms I've been experiencing and makes me feel less like I'm just crazy.
So lots of good things and a few very challenging things as well, but overall, life has been a bit better if a bit exhausting. I don't know how much writing I'm going to be doing between now and the beginning of next month, but I'm aiming to at least try and write something once a week instead of letting so much time elapse. My apologies for such a long post and my gratitude if you actually read all of this navel-gazing!
Until next time...
I know it's been a while since I've written in this blog, so I wanted to pop in and give a quick update. Life has been kind of stressful in the last month or so and it's made me struggle with trying to find any inspiration. It seems that occasionally I get a particular blog post idea in my head and then by the time I have the energy to get around to it, it's gone. The other thing that's been happening a lot lately is that I just never seem to have the energy to manage even opening my laptop so I can write something.
So what's going on in my world? Well, some transitions, a significant milestone, and a few other things.
The transitions are mostly to do with some changes with Gray's work schedule and how that's affecting me. It's been about two weeks since the changes went into effect and I'm still struggling to get used to it. There were some real frustrations with the changes early on as I was afraid they were going to make it worse for me with regard to what I need to do to see to my mental health (counselling, spiritual direction, and EMDR therapy), but after several conversations together with Gray, a few with Pendragon, and a few between Gray and his boss, the knot of tension in my gut that's been there for a good three weeks has finally eased.
As for milestones, well, Miss AB had her First Holy Communion on April 30th. She looked absolutely beautiful and it was such a joyful and meaningful Mass for her and our whole family. My awesome mom-in-law Balinda flew down the Thursday beforehand and stayed w/us the whole weekend. My folks came on the day along with AB's godmother (plus her hubby and 3 kids) and her godfather, who drove in from out of state. After Mass, we enjoyed the party in the parish hall and then went out to the Olive Garden to celebrate w/my folks, Balinda, and AB's godfather. It was a wonderful meal and I think everyone had a great time -- most of all AB who received a whole bunch of presents from everyone.
As for the rest, the bulk of it has been me getting ready for my trip to New York City to walk in my second Out of the Darkness Overnight Walk (click the link if you'd like to donate as I'm still working toward my goal!). I've been doing a good bit of walking at the gym and the park to get my body in better shape to actually do the walking that's going to be required. Additionally, I finally got my hotel and flight nailed down and am steadily working on the things I want to do in my limited time there that weekend. I've never been to NYC and have wanted to go since I was a kid, so this is super exciting for me. I just wish I had more than just the weekend to spend exploring and seeing all the wonderful things NYC has to offer. On my list are:
- a visit to the MoMA (to see Van Gogh's The Starry Night)
- Mass at St. Patrick's Cathedral on Sunday
- cannolis to enjoy and take home from some luscious bakery in Little Italy
- pictures of as many famous sights as possible (I promised my girls I'd try to get a good one of Miss Liberty!)
- shopping to buy a few souvenirs to take home
- and of course, walking 16-18 miles for suicide prevention from Saturday night into Sunday morning!
One other thing of note that has been going on of late is that with much fear and trepidation, I began seeing a psychologist, Dr. D (not to be confused with my regular therapist Pendragon), who specialises in PTSD and is trained and certified to do EMDR treatments. Given my past experiences with mental healthcare professionals, it was really hard to go to that first appointment. Gray went with me to offer support, encouragement, and took over the responsibility of filling out the requisite new patient paperwork. My stomach, back, shoulders, and arms were tied up in knots of tension and anxiety and despite Pendragon's very positive view of Dr. D, I didn't want to go through with the appointment at all. It took all I had to make myself follow him down the hall from the waiting room to his office. Once I got through that appointment, it made it a little easier the next time. I'll admit though that although I've now seen Dr. D three times, there's still a part of me which is nervous about fully letting my guard down. Overall though, it's been a positive experience.
Dr. D is a nice man, has a decent sense of humour, and seems quite concerned to make the experience of therapy as comfortable for me as possible. He's also very smart and knows a lot about PTSD in a way that Pendragon doesn't. I've already learned more about it than I knew before and given Dr. D's expertise, I now have a formal diagnosis of PTSD. I wasn't looking for a diagnosis, but now that I have one, I feel a kind of relief. That may sound odd, but one of the lies that PTSD sometimes tells you is that what you went through wasn't that bad or that you're blowing it all out of proportion. In other words, you start to feel like you're a bit crazy for feeling the way you do. Having a formal diagnosis of PTSD gives validity to the feelings I've had and the symptoms I've been experiencing and makes me feel less like I'm just crazy.
So lots of good things and a few very challenging things as well, but overall, life has been a bit better if a bit exhausting. I don't know how much writing I'm going to be doing between now and the beginning of next month, but I'm aiming to at least try and write something once a week instead of letting so much time elapse. My apologies for such a long post and my gratitude if you actually read all of this navel-gazing!
Until next time...
Thursday, December 31, 2015
A Final Update on Write and Follow
It's just a few hours until the new year begins here and on that note, I thought I'd do a little year-end wrap up and reflection. Last year at this time, I was trying to figure out (as I am now) my "word" for the year. The idea is that you take that word as a kind of reminder to yourself of something you want to do or achieve in the next year or as a reminder of a goal you've been working toward or perhaps something you need to do in order to better yourself. I noodled over it for several days prior to December 31, 2014 and finally came up with my first of what would be two words for 2015:
My goal with this word was to encourage myself to write in this blog and elsewhere more often. In August of 2014, I started this blog anew with the aim of trying to help myself with my depression. I had a goal back then that I was going to write at least some little something each day so that I could develop a habit of writing. Well, that didn't exactly pan out, but through that goal, I found the Write 31 Days challenge in late September and participated in it throughout the month of October. I wrote for 31 days straight about my journey through the darkness of depression and while it wasn't the easiest thing for me to do, it wound up being helpful both in my therapy sessions (gave me and Pendragon lots to write about) and outside the therapy sessions as I mulled over different things and tried to process more deeply some of my experiences.
As 2014 drew to a close, I realized that all that writing had been really beneficial to my mental health in a number of ways. That was one of the biggest reasons that I was drawn to the word "write" as my word for 2015. I wanted to keep that momentum going. I also began sensing that the direction of my blog was changing a bit to encompass more than just my Catholic faith and my vocation of marriage and motherhood. I wanted to continue to talk about mental health topics and even explore my own experiences with depression and PTSD in the hope that it might help others understand those things a bit more. So last New Year's Eve as I was going through the day, I was more or less settled on that word.
And then we went to Mass for the Vigil of the Solemnity of Mary the Mother of God and the Holy Spirit threw a cog into my perfect little plan to focus on "write."
As we sat there in Mass and listened to the pastor's homily, he spoke about how Mary had followed God's plan for her and been totally submissive to His desire that she become the Mother of the Word Incarnate. When he said that, the word "follow" jumped out at me. For the rest of Mass, I couldn't get it out of my head. My heart has always been to follow God wherever He leads and to pursue Him with everything in me, but the past almost 3 years have been beyond hard. They have shaken my faith to its very core.
My faith has been stripped bare of everything that made me comfortable in it -- joy, hope, purpose, emotional closeness, awe and wonder, inspiration, peace, strength -- all of it. All that was left to me was cold, naked words of scripture, the tenets and requirements of my faith, the traditions of the Church, and a particular grace of an obedient heart (which I didn't see for a long time as anything worth celebrating or being grateful for). I felt abandoned by God and I was fiercely angry with Him for a very long time. By the end of 2014 though, after almost 2 years of this, I knew that I needed to start taking responsibility for finding my way back to God.
When I heard the pastor say "follow" I knew that I couldn't ignore the nudge in my spirit. So despite having already chosen "write" I began to consider that maybe I needed to choose "follow" as my word. I wrestled with it until about 10:30pm that night when I finally gave in and said, "Okay God." That crazy grace of obedience just won't leave me alone! As I acquiesced to the Holy Spirit, I felt a bit sad to leave "write" by the wayside. I thought for a moment that perhaps I'd just resolve to write more anyway and then it hit me: I didn't have to give up "write" as a word for 2015. I could have two words! I admit it might have been a little crazy to take on two words, but I just knew that it was exactly right for me.
So how did those two words work out?
Well, not too badly, I think. I had wanted to write at least 1-3 blog posts each week and while there were some weeks that I didn't even make 1 post, as of the publishing of this post, I'll have 74 posts this year and that works out to 1.5 or so per week AND I managed to write at least 1 post each month. That may not sound like a lot, but that's much more consistent than I've ever been with writing, so way to go me!
As for follow, that one took a bit longer to get rolling with in 2015. I continued to do what I had been doing with regard to going to Mass and confession, but over the spring and summer months, I upped the ante a bit. Our long time family friend, Fr. B, was moved to a parish closer to us (he had previously been almost a 2 hour drive away) and we visited him some in the spring time and then began going there almost exclusively over the summer. When we first visited him, he sensed that I wasn't myself and told me to email him and we'd get together and talk. That was the beginning of several meetings which led to him becoming my spiritual director.
He and I would talk for a bit and then pray together. Many times he would pray over me -- prayers of deliverance, praying the Psalms, or just spontaneous prayer that pretty much always reduced me to a sobbing mess. Our meetings almost always included a chance for me to receive the graces of the Sacrament of Reconciliation (confession), the Sacrament of the Anointing of the Sick, and the Holy Eucharist as well. Finally, as my penance he would assign me the task of going over to the church (we always started in his office in the rectory) and spending some time there alone in the presence of Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament. The first time he assigned me that penance, he said, "It doesn't have to be long, just 10-15 minutes. However long you can stay. Stay as long as you want." That very first time I wound up there for an entire hour before I realized that much time had passed. I spent that hour in silent prayer, crying, singing hymns, sobbing as I lay prostrate before the altar, praying and begging Him to heal me, crying some more, and finally pulling myself together before leaving the church.
After each of those meetings and my time alone (always an hour, sometimes nearly two) with Jesus, I would find myself feeling exhausted and just spent, but strangely more at peace than I had been before I came. Little by little, I began to have tiny moments of feeling something other than the stark wasteland of nothingness that I had come to associate with my faith. It would be a brief moment at Mass or something that someone said or something I read that would touch me ever so briefly. These days I still feel that nothingness a lot and to be honest, I still feel angry at God at times (particularly when the dark menace of depression is heaviest), and I still cry buckets at Mass (did that tonight, actually), but something has shifted, albeit the tiniest bit; it is enough that I can sense the change. I can't quite articulate what is different or how it is, but I know that I feel a bit different this New Year's Eve with regard to my faith than I did last year. So that's progress and a very good thing indeed.
What about a word for 2016?
Well, I've been thinking about it for a couple of weeks and there have been a few that have popped into my head. One of the biggest ones has been to do with my health. The things is, I'm way overweight for my height and age. Actually, quite truthfully, I am obese. I have been for years. Well, my sister-in-law has been on a quest for better health for herself this past year and she has really done well for herself. She's continuing in her quest to move more and eat healthy in the new year and has added the goal of quitting smoking (you can do it, sestra!!!) and I'm so excited for her. I know she's going to have another amazing year of achieving her goals and getting even more healthy.
To be honest, she's really inspired me to make some changes for myself. I may add things as the year goes along, but my biggest goal is going to be to move more -- specifically, to get myself walking on a regular basis. You may remember that I participated in the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention's Out of the Darkness Overnight walk in Boston this past summer. Well, it wasn't nearly as much fun for me as it could have been because I was really out of shape and unprepared going into it. This coming year I'm participating in the walk again. It's going to be in New York City! Woohoo! I have never been there and I'm looking forward to it, but I know I need to be in better shape and better prepared to actually do the work of the walking the 16-18 miles that it entails. So......without further ado, my NEW word for 2016 is.......
To be honest friends, that word is a little scary to me because of what it means to me. It means I've got to get off my duff and really start moving more. But what's a new year without new challenges or a goal or two, right? I also decided that I'm going to hold on to my words from 2015 for another year. I know, I know. You're probably not supposed to do that, but just like last year when I took on two words instead of one, I'm breaking the rules again this year. I'm keeping my old words. I'm just not ready to give up "write" or "follow" just yet. I feel like I have a lot more to do with those words and that a lot of it is going to be in this next year. Not entirely sure why I feel that way, but maybe it's the Holy Spirit? :) Anyhow, that brings my grand total for 2016 to THREE words. Holy cow! I may be a bit mental, but I really think that it's what I'm supposed to do. So, to recap....
Oh, and M2, who is sitting over my shoulder wants me to let you know that she was the one who had the idea for the word "Move" to be in a white font and for the background to be coloured instead of black and white like I had originally planned. I told her she ought to be a graphic designer because she has a good eye for colour and balance. Love that girl!
As 2014 drew to a close, I realized that all that writing had been really beneficial to my mental health in a number of ways. That was one of the biggest reasons that I was drawn to the word "write" as my word for 2015. I wanted to keep that momentum going. I also began sensing that the direction of my blog was changing a bit to encompass more than just my Catholic faith and my vocation of marriage and motherhood. I wanted to continue to talk about mental health topics and even explore my own experiences with depression and PTSD in the hope that it might help others understand those things a bit more. So last New Year's Eve as I was going through the day, I was more or less settled on that word.
And then we went to Mass for the Vigil of the Solemnity of Mary the Mother of God and the Holy Spirit threw a cog into my perfect little plan to focus on "write."
As we sat there in Mass and listened to the pastor's homily, he spoke about how Mary had followed God's plan for her and been totally submissive to His desire that she become the Mother of the Word Incarnate. When he said that, the word "follow" jumped out at me. For the rest of Mass, I couldn't get it out of my head. My heart has always been to follow God wherever He leads and to pursue Him with everything in me, but the past almost 3 years have been beyond hard. They have shaken my faith to its very core.
My faith has been stripped bare of everything that made me comfortable in it -- joy, hope, purpose, emotional closeness, awe and wonder, inspiration, peace, strength -- all of it. All that was left to me was cold, naked words of scripture, the tenets and requirements of my faith, the traditions of the Church, and a particular grace of an obedient heart (which I didn't see for a long time as anything worth celebrating or being grateful for). I felt abandoned by God and I was fiercely angry with Him for a very long time. By the end of 2014 though, after almost 2 years of this, I knew that I needed to start taking responsibility for finding my way back to God.
When I heard the pastor say "follow" I knew that I couldn't ignore the nudge in my spirit. So despite having already chosen "write" I began to consider that maybe I needed to choose "follow" as my word. I wrestled with it until about 10:30pm that night when I finally gave in and said, "Okay God." That crazy grace of obedience just won't leave me alone! As I acquiesced to the Holy Spirit, I felt a bit sad to leave "write" by the wayside. I thought for a moment that perhaps I'd just resolve to write more anyway and then it hit me: I didn't have to give up "write" as a word for 2015. I could have two words! I admit it might have been a little crazy to take on two words, but I just knew that it was exactly right for me.
So how did those two words work out?
Well, not too badly, I think. I had wanted to write at least 1-3 blog posts each week and while there were some weeks that I didn't even make 1 post, as of the publishing of this post, I'll have 74 posts this year and that works out to 1.5 or so per week AND I managed to write at least 1 post each month. That may not sound like a lot, but that's much more consistent than I've ever been with writing, so way to go me!
As for follow, that one took a bit longer to get rolling with in 2015. I continued to do what I had been doing with regard to going to Mass and confession, but over the spring and summer months, I upped the ante a bit. Our long time family friend, Fr. B, was moved to a parish closer to us (he had previously been almost a 2 hour drive away) and we visited him some in the spring time and then began going there almost exclusively over the summer. When we first visited him, he sensed that I wasn't myself and told me to email him and we'd get together and talk. That was the beginning of several meetings which led to him becoming my spiritual director.
He and I would talk for a bit and then pray together. Many times he would pray over me -- prayers of deliverance, praying the Psalms, or just spontaneous prayer that pretty much always reduced me to a sobbing mess. Our meetings almost always included a chance for me to receive the graces of the Sacrament of Reconciliation (confession), the Sacrament of the Anointing of the Sick, and the Holy Eucharist as well. Finally, as my penance he would assign me the task of going over to the church (we always started in his office in the rectory) and spending some time there alone in the presence of Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament. The first time he assigned me that penance, he said, "It doesn't have to be long, just 10-15 minutes. However long you can stay. Stay as long as you want." That very first time I wound up there for an entire hour before I realized that much time had passed. I spent that hour in silent prayer, crying, singing hymns, sobbing as I lay prostrate before the altar, praying and begging Him to heal me, crying some more, and finally pulling myself together before leaving the church.
After each of those meetings and my time alone (always an hour, sometimes nearly two) with Jesus, I would find myself feeling exhausted and just spent, but strangely more at peace than I had been before I came. Little by little, I began to have tiny moments of feeling something other than the stark wasteland of nothingness that I had come to associate with my faith. It would be a brief moment at Mass or something that someone said or something I read that would touch me ever so briefly. These days I still feel that nothingness a lot and to be honest, I still feel angry at God at times (particularly when the dark menace of depression is heaviest), and I still cry buckets at Mass (did that tonight, actually), but something has shifted, albeit the tiniest bit; it is enough that I can sense the change. I can't quite articulate what is different or how it is, but I know that I feel a bit different this New Year's Eve with regard to my faith than I did last year. So that's progress and a very good thing indeed.
What about a word for 2016?
Well, I've been thinking about it for a couple of weeks and there have been a few that have popped into my head. One of the biggest ones has been to do with my health. The things is, I'm way overweight for my height and age. Actually, quite truthfully, I am obese. I have been for years. Well, my sister-in-law has been on a quest for better health for herself this past year and she has really done well for herself. She's continuing in her quest to move more and eat healthy in the new year and has added the goal of quitting smoking (you can do it, sestra!!!) and I'm so excited for her. I know she's going to have another amazing year of achieving her goals and getting even more healthy.
To be honest, she's really inspired me to make some changes for myself. I may add things as the year goes along, but my biggest goal is going to be to move more -- specifically, to get myself walking on a regular basis. You may remember that I participated in the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention's Out of the Darkness Overnight walk in Boston this past summer. Well, it wasn't nearly as much fun for me as it could have been because I was really out of shape and unprepared going into it. This coming year I'm participating in the walk again. It's going to be in New York City! Woohoo! I have never been there and I'm looking forward to it, but I know I need to be in better shape and better prepared to actually do the work of the walking the 16-18 miles that it entails. So......without further ado, my NEW word for 2016 is.......
To be honest friends, that word is a little scary to me because of what it means to me. It means I've got to get off my duff and really start moving more. But what's a new year without new challenges or a goal or two, right? I also decided that I'm going to hold on to my words from 2015 for another year. I know, I know. You're probably not supposed to do that, but just like last year when I took on two words instead of one, I'm breaking the rules again this year. I'm keeping my old words. I'm just not ready to give up "write" or "follow" just yet. I feel like I have a lot more to do with those words and that a lot of it is going to be in this next year. Not entirely sure why I feel that way, but maybe it's the Holy Spirit? :) Anyhow, that brings my grand total for 2016 to THREE words. Holy cow! I may be a bit mental, but I really think that it's what I'm supposed to do. So, to recap....
Oh, and M2, who is sitting over my shoulder wants me to let you know that she was the one who had the idea for the word "Move" to be in a white font and for the background to be coloured instead of black and white like I had originally planned. I told her she ought to be a graphic designer because she has a good eye for colour and balance. Love that girl!
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