Barricade the road that goes Nowhere

The winter is long and dreary, here in a place where winters are supposed to be just that.

But this winter . . .

. . . this one is different.

In the midst of this winter, I am weary.

Not just any weary, but the weariness and heaviness of a soul trapped and afraid.

As a Christian, it is the sort of weariness I’ve struggled with for two decades, crying out to God, clinging to His leather-covered Word, feeling the stinging, false accusation of “not having enough faith to handle it” creep through my arms and into my chest as once again I wander the desert known to many of us as depression.

Anxiety.

Panic attacks.

Why do I dare blog about such things?

Why lay it all out there for everyone to see?

Because I know, after blogging about it numerous times already, untold numbers of others struggle with the craze and walking-alone-in-the-pitch-black uncertainty of that pesky little neurochemical called seratonin (or lack thereof).

If your soul is weary today . . . if your heart cries out to Him and you feel on the edge . . . know you are not alone. 

Know it is appropriate and necessary and even of the utmost importance to seek help if you cannot climb out of the pit yourself.

Feeling like I was nearing a crisis point a few weeks ago, I did just that. And with the help of friends who are also on this journey and my doctor, I am starting to see the light of day again. (Many online resources are listed in the bottom right corner of this blog page.)

I am starting to lose the fear of leaving my home–literally and figuratively.

I built not one, but three snowmen with my sons yesterday, a task which on other days might seem insurmountable. But yesterday and today, the task morphed into a blessing.

And I am grateful.

So.

Very.

Grateful.

For a husband who loves me.

For friends who care.

For modern medicine.

For God, who knows the depths of our weary souls and helps us find the way to our families, our selves, and Him again. If you doubt God knows how rotten we feel, read the scripture I found below, and know that God knows.

Praise God, He knows!

 ”I’m feeling terrible—I couldn’t feel worse! 

Get me on my feet again. You promised, remember? 

When I told my story, you responded; train me well in your deep wisdom. 

Help me understand these things inside and out so I can ponder your miracle-wonders. 

My sad life’s dilapidated, a falling-down barn; build me up again by your Word. 

Barricade the road that goes Nowhere; grace me with your clear revelation. 

I choose the true road to Somewhere, I post your road signs at every curve and corner. 

I grasp and cling to whatever you tell me; God, don’t let me down! 

I’ll run the course you lay out for me if you’ll just show me how.”

~Psalm 119:25-31, TMV

***This post is also part of the One Word at a Time blog carnival on renewal this week.***

Surviving the Holidays, Part 2 of 4: You are enough!

Welcome back to this little series on surviving the holidays. Whether you’ve experienced tragedy or abuse, holidays are rough.   

The first post discussed the importance of guarding your heart and starting your own traditions, as a means of coping with overwhelming, post traumatic fear and vulnerability.  

"I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and gosh darn it, people like me."

Today, Stuart Smiley is here to help us through the second topic in this series: worthlessness and inadequacy.  

Abuse survivors have a warped impression of themselves, and others. Self-hatred and worthlessness are caused by actual or implied accusations hurtled at us during and after the abuse:  

“You’re so stupid (bad, ugly, helpless, selfish…”
“You’ll never amount to anything.”
“You can’t survive without me.”
“You wanted it.”
“No-one will believe you. You’re such a liar.”
“You made me do it.”
“Nobody could ever love you.”  

Brainwashed into believing we can’t survive or do anything–let alone celebrate–correctly outside the powerful family circle, building our own traditions feels like trying to walk up an ice-covered hill in smooth-soled shoes.  

” . . . verbal affirmation of self-worth is a valuable tool, however silly it may seem. Another way to build self esteem is to try something new, but easy – again in a safe environment free of criticism and judgment. . . ” –Grace Alexander 

As much peace as I’ve found starting my own family traditions, feelings of inadequacy still creep up and devastate even the most serene, tender moments. If I don’t recognize it early and call it out, the feelings of emptiness turn me into a sucking, nagging, complaining, despairing woman, lashing out at those who love me–and whom I love–most. 

Recognizing and acknowledging these emotions are the first steps in reclaiming your life and potential as a beautiful, unique, and precious child of God . . . . . . and important ingredients for surviving the holidays.  

"It's easier to put on slippers than to carpet the whole world." --Stuart Smalley

Please know I’m not a counselor, and for that reason, I implore you to seek professional help if you have thoughts of self-harm or more serious symptoms of depression. Hotlines and links to other resources are posted at the bottom of this blog. Even your family doctor can help. Don’t be ashamed to seek it, if you need it.   

Otherwise, here are four ideas for immediate application:  

1. Start small. Don’t try to create a Pottery Barn Christmas. Do bake Christmas cookies (slice-&-bake’s are totally cool). Try to catch a snowflake on your tongue.  Light a scented candle. Learn how to knit and be satisfied, even if you only complete a small, slighty-holey dishrag. Read the Christmas story from Luke 1: 26-2:20. Outloud. 

2. Copy your kids. Be on the lookout for what makes your kids smile during this season. Is it a little nativity set they like to arrange and re-arrange? Is it building a fire in the fireplace in the middle of the day–just because? Making a snow angel? Reading The Littlest Angel, The Polar Express or The Christmas Lizard (one of my favorites)? Savor what they savor. Reclaim their joy and make it your own.   

3. Music. Download your all-time favorite Christmas song. Dance to it when no one else is home. Sing the silly Christmas songs with your kids (Alvin and the Chipmunks come to mind. I used to hate them until I watched my kids laugh and love them.) Play instrumental, sentimental Christmas music as you fold laundry and go about your daily activities. Breathe in deeply with your ears. 

4. Help someone less fortunate. Have you ever seen tears well up in a mother’s eyes when you take gifts to a women’s shelter? Seen gratitude melt the wrinkles on a shut-in’s face when you bring them sparkly Christmas cookies? Heard a homeless man choke back tears as you serve him food at a homeless shelter? Other people are hurting all around us. 

We can allow the darkest parts of brokenness overwhelm us in vain, or we can morph it into radiant, healing compassion. 

The choice is yours, this holiday season. 

As the angel Gabriel said to Mary all those years ago, the Lord is with you. Do not be afraid. 

You are beautiful. 

You are enough. 

And you can be free. 

My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has been mindful of the humble state of his servant. –Luke 1:46-48

Surviving the Holidays,Part 1 of 4: The Safety of Your Own Nest

I’ve been trying to figure out what it is about the holiday season that triggers my anxiety, shame and pain.

The answer came one morning last week.

As my dog pulled me toward the house after her backyard stroll, I looked at the leaf-barren trees hugging the house and saw them: nests. Hidden and protected by the flourishing green of summer, I never knew they existed. But now, stripped of their protection, they weren’t only visible, they were eye-catching targets for any predator, even those with bad eyesight.

Holidays meant traveling over the river and through the woods to dine and smile and feign contentment in the presence of–and at the tables of–abusers.

As E. Sue Blume writes, “Incest sacrifices trust. How can you trust when you expect anyone you care about to rape you one way or another? The incest victim has no consistency. Only broken promises . . . She is reluctant to let down her guard to begin with, for behind acts of caring lie monsters with big claws and razor teeth and mouths that suck her dry. Acts of kindness scare her.” E. Sue Blume, Secret Survivors

At extended family gatherings, I was a forced player on a stage upon which all of us were better actors and actresses than any red carpet has beheld. Colored lights and candy canes were decorative distractions. Yuletide carols and silver bells disguised the villain called Abuse, who stalked us backstage like an opera phantom, making sure no one broke character. In such families, protecting The Secret is always more important than the truth. So for decades, I smiled at the monsters. I held the clawed hands. I smiled back at the razor teeth.

But underneath it all, I was scared. Sucked dry. Shivering like a bird in those exposed nests, with nothing but hard, barren branches to cling to.

No wonder the holidays hurt. No wonder I felt tremendous relief when my husband and I started saying no to other people’s traditions and started forming our own. Home has always been my safe place. And safe places are crucial moors for survivors, beaten down by the winds and storms of abuse.

If you are a survivor of abuse or any sort of betrayal, this is what you need to know this holiday season:

It is okay to protect yourself.

It’s okay to say no to old traditions that leave you feeling raw, wigged out and berserk.

It’s ok to start new traditions that break cycles and create true joy for you and future generations.

Friends and family might not understand it at first. They may not understand it, ever. But you have the right to seek freedom and joy . . .

. . . and safety.

I’m learning to find it in my own home, with my husband and children. I’m learning–when the shaky, unsteady feelings of PTSD threaten and overwhelm–to turn to God. One of my favorite verses is Psalm 63:7-8: “Because you are my help, I sing in the shadow of your wings. My soul clings to you; your right hand upholds me.”

When the leaves of summer fall, the wings of Christ envelop me. I cling to Him. His right hand upholds me.

Silver bells ring out new songs of peace . . .

. . . and strength . . .

. . . and truth.

As Thea Kronborg, the main character in The Song of the Lark learned, truth is not something easy to grasp or obtain. Yet once it seeps into your life, you can find your voice. And like the Mourning Doves which greet us every morning, you too can sing like you were always meant to sing.

“. . . growth is, more than it is anything else, a refining of the sense of truthfulness. The stupid believe that to be truthful is easy; only the artist, the great artist, knows how difficult it is. That afternoon, nothing new came to Thea Kronborg, no enlightenment, no inspiration. She merely came into full possession of things she had been refining and perfecting for so long. Her inhibitions chanced to be fewer than usual, and, within herself, she entered into the inheritance that she herself had laid up, into the fullness of the faith she had kept before she knew its name or meaning.” ~~Willa Cather, The Song of the Lark