Letters from Hell #1

Beloved Friends,

I saw a meme yesterday that read:

These are the first words that have made any sense of the world in which we are currently living, because beyond all that we see on the surface of things, it sure feels like hell.

For me, my heart is broken over all of it – but mostly over the violent division that seems to currently define our nation, if not the world. It seems everywhere I look the finger of blame is being pointed in the opposite direction from where it should be pointed – away instead of toward, because…..

When humanity makes gods of men, looking outside of ourselves for guidance, authority, leadership and direction, this is what we get. A bunch of unqualified, overly loud individuals getting rich off our willingness to give them our power.

In this current version of hell, censorship is king. If the “Emperor” doesn’t like what you say about him, then through money and power, you are silenced. Or, if the Emperor is in need of a martyr, one will be created.

All of this to feed the beast of division. Those in power believing that in dividing the nation, they will gain more power. Strangely, it seems their tactics are working as the powerful few gain increasing wealth as the world falls around their feet. What will be left when they are done? A world of ash where beauty once stood? No wonder they’re looking for a way to settle on Mars.

Many of us have known this was coming, but nothing could have prepared us for how truly awful it really is. The long, slow, excruciatingly painful death of the world built on fear, power, and control. Daily, I plead with the universe, DIE ALREADY!

I’m exhausted for the end of things, hoping that when this is all over (will it ever be over?) humanity will find a way to live in peace. But for the love of God, how long is this going to take?

Physically, emotionally, spiritually, mentally, I’m not sure how much more of this I can take.  I’m not sure how much more any of us can take. We seem to be suffering from a collective sort of PTSD and recent events have only made it worse (thank you Justine Joslyn for this reminder!). 

I know my PTSD is triggered. I feel vulnerable, raw, and highly emotional. My head hurts. I feel the physical effects of cortisol raging through my body producing flu-like symptoms. My heart hurts. I am finding it hard to breathe. I don’t want to go anywhere or do anything. Yesterday, it was all I could do to sit on my couch and pray.

And when I’m at work, I feel broken and flawed. I feel like I’m doing everything wrong and that everything I’m doing is a mistake. I feel unqualified for a job for which I am, in truth, overqualified. I feel ashamed in my imperfection.

This is not me. At least, this isn’t normal me. This is me under panic and in a heightened state of activation. I am finding it hard to focus. I am doomscrolling for something – anything to make me feel safe.  I know better than this – but I can’t help myself.

I feel desperate – desperate for a moment to breathe, a moment to feel safe, a moment of peace in which the world isn’t suddenly exploding with some new tragic or devastating news. I hate it here.

But just when I’m ready to completely give up on humanity, wishing and hoping for this all to be over, I am reminded by the wisdom of youth, in this case my daughter. Yesterday I texted her, “The world just needs to end already.” This was her heart-wrenching, wise response:

UGH!  Knife to the heart! A knife to my heart that broke me wide open. In her wise words, my daughter spoke what we all want:

We want the world to be better. We want it to be better for ourselves, but even more so, for our children and our children’s children. For these, we must hang on to hope – cling to it even. With these words, I will leave you with this:

With the deepest love,

Lauri

The Effects of Trauma

Trauma is weird. Trauma is weird because we don’t always know we’re experiencing trauma until its effects accumulate and begin to come out sideways. Trauma is also weird because every person experiences trauma differently.  Some traumas are obvious and expected, others are not. If you are in a war zone and having to deal with constant life-threatening situations, you would expect that you might experience some adverse effects from that trauma. Some people, however, seemingly don’t. If you are in a physically abusive marriage or suffered sexual assault, you would expect to suffer the effects of these traumas. One does not necessarily expect disappointment, heartbreak, loss, or betrayal to be experienced as trauma – but for some they are.

Trauma is weird. My trauma is not from war or physical abuse. What I can now identify as the traumas that eventually led to a diagnosis of CPTSD (Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder), I did not necessarily think of them as traumatic at the time. I’m a strong, independent woman and that’s how I got through those traumas – truly by sheer force of will and stubbornness – mixed in with a good dose of resentment. I made myself survive.  I forced myself to weather the storm. I pushed myself through it all – never attending to the deep heartbreak I was feeling because at the time I was just trying not to collapse under the weight of it all.

Well….eventually that all caught up to me. All that forcing did was push the trauma deeper and deeper into my psyche where it built up and accumulated until it started coming out in symptoms of depression, anxiety, hypervigilance, and eventually full-blown and traumatic panic attacks. I’m also convinced that all of this pent up trauma is what made me vulnerable to the bizarre ear infection that permanently damaged my vestibular nerve – causing my now ongoing issues with vertigo, etc. which now prevents me from driving any distance without great effort and no longer allows me to drive on the freeway – dramatically hindering my previously taken for granted freedom of mobility.

Trauma is weird. I have tried to explain my trauma in the past and to those listening, it just doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t really make sense to me either. I can point to the situations, experiences, individuals and say – “it’s their fault.” But really, my trauma is less about fault and more about cause. The cause, if I’m truly honest with myself, was LOVE, and the trauma that one experiences when that love is betrayed.

That’s it in a nutshell. Every trauma I’ve experienced has ultimately been about the betrayal of love.

The easiest for me to speak about is my ecclesial trauma because in this case, there are no innocent bystanders who might be hurt by my words. I feel perhaps I’ve written of this ad nauseum, but in a nutshell – I once passionately and deeply loved the Church and the mission of Love I embraced on their behalf. I found my calling in the Church. I was enthusiastically supported in that calling, both financially and otherwise by the Church. I had planned to continue my formation and advancement in Church ministry as far as would be allowed for a woman. Then I wasn’t. All because I took Jesus’ call to Love seriously and accepted that call to heal and teach. It’s a long stupid story and on the outside to call this trauma might seem trite, but I can honestly attest that leaving the Church was harder for me than divorce and the trauma I suffered that ultimately led to my leaving is the greatest heartbreak I have ever experienced. My Church turned its back on me. If you understand the nature of spiritual abuse, you get it.

The other traumas I will continue to hold close to my heart. Suffice it to say, all were deep and indelible betrayals of love. When trauma is a result of betrayal, it becomes personal – and that’s a whole different kind of trauma – which is why it’s so difficult to describe and even more challenging to explain. It’s not as a result of a hit, a punch, or war, it because of a broken heart.  

No matter the cause of the trauma, the effects are mostly the same: anxiety, depression, panic attacks, chronic illness, hypervigilance, memory issues, situational avoidance, disassociation, feelings of overwhelm and cognitive impairment, auditory and visual processing disorders, chronic pain, and so much more. There are medications and therapies that help mitigate the effects of trauma, but in my experience, the effects never fully go away and are always lying in wait to rear their ugly head again – like recently. For whatever reason, my trauma decided to rear its ugly head causing ongoing increased anxiety and breakthrough panic. Whatever I had been doing proved to be no longer enough so now I’m (by doctor’s orders) taking a break from external stimuli, adjusting to an increase in medication, and looking at what other lifestyle changes or adaptations I need to take to continue to care for my trauma-affected mind, spirit, and body.

As an aside, I’m profoundly grateful to my employer who allows for accommodations so that I can continue to work and make a living. AND there are not enough supports in our system for people who have suffered the effects of trauma. For many, work is literally impossible and for the majority, there are not enough accommodations available to help them be part of providing for their basic needs without doing further damage to themselves. If my nervous system had its way, I’d be living in a cabin deep in the woods and all my needs would be provided for so I could just take care of myself, living as gently and quietly and softly as I need. Just sayin!