Are Your Steps Going in the Right Direction?

I found a lovely quote by Henry B. Eyering in Goodreads. I don't know if I'm allowed to use quotes on blogs without asking, but he wrote to the effect, if you are on the right path, it will always be uphill.
How fitting for a blog called "Steps to Climb."

I am reminded of climbing the beautiful mountains surrounding Boulder, Colo. when I lived there in my young adulthood.

At each crevice and plateau, I would pause and look down to see my journey behind me.The trees were smaller--and the people weren't seen at all.
Perspective. Looking down from perches I happened upon on the rocky mounts made me think of my place in a world full of God's children. I am one of them. I know God loves me. I know He is looking out for me.
He knows my pains and sorrows. He knows my joys.
Then I'd look up to see the awe-inspiring journey still needed to reach the top. The glorious and vast heavens above me gave me a challenge. The colorful rock formations beneath my hands and feet gave me a stronghold as I pulled myself upward. Each movement had to be calculated for success.
Being young and stupid, I didn't climb with ropes as they do nowadays. I knew that one false move would be to my detriment, big time.
 Sometimes I feel defeated. I especially felt defeated on that long climb I took, up each vertical step of the divorce process.
 I don't know which step I'm on now because I am trying to find the healing step and the forgiveness step.
Since I am looking up, I must be on the right path.  I hope you are on your right path, too.

I Will Get Through This

I just read this post today:
Suffering is required for exaltation.
From Romans 8:16-18:

"The Spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit, that we are the children of God: and if children, then heirs; heirs of God, and joint-heirs with Christ; if so be that we suffer with him, that we may be also glorified together. For I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us."

I get a Scripture-a-Day sent to my email. Sometimes it gives me light. Sometimes it makes me think.

I know what this says is true, but this message came at a difficult time right now. I just found out my ex was in my own hometown visiting with my kids. They didn't tell me.

I wouldn't have told me either. 

When I saw their pictures posted on Facebook, my PTSD kicked in big time. I woke my daughter up from a sound sleep asking if he was still here. She was visibly annoyed. Seeing my wide and wild-eyed expression, she must have thought I was crazy. (Maybe I am, a little.)

I'm mostly damaged.

I spent last night, late, searching through my bathroom trying to find the Prozac. Yes, I felt that frantic. I finally found it, but the expiration date was from 2010. That was the last time I used it. That was when I left him.

This scripture reminds me that life is a journey, sometimes perilous in our minds on our own level of understanding. I think of the phrase, "You'll have this."

Sometimes you need to be brave and do the courageous thing. Instead of climbing steps, you climb mountains with jagged rocks and cliffs. Brushburns occur haphazardly just by tripping a little and swiping the stones. You pick up little scrapes and bruises, but you venture on, knowing the journey has indescribable scenery with vibrant colors and fresh air. At the end of the journey there's extraordinary peace and abundant love--glory.

Sometimes it's like climbing a ladder. Don't look down. Keep looking up.

All things, even trials and distress, give you experience.

If suffering will give me greater glory, then I reckon I will have a dole full.

I will get through this.

I know you will, too.

PTSD—Post Traumatic Stress Disorder: Part II

It was a dream—a nightmare. It felt real. It was three-dimensional. I would swear it really happened.

A few days before my son was to move out, I dreamt that he and my daughter were in my kitchen on moving day. My sons-in-law were in the basement getting the furniture. My son and my daughter were having a conversation with gestures to the door and glances at me.

I asked, “What are you whispering about?”

They looked at each other and my son said, “Dad’s here and he’s going to help with the move.”

I freaked out. “I do NOT want that man anywhere near my house! I don’t want him in my neighborhood!” I screamed and acted like a crazy person. My son tried to calm me down. I saw the door open and knew it was my ex-husband walking in the door.

“AAAHHH!” I screamed at the top of my lungs in my dream, but no sound came out, like my vocal chords were paralyzed. I jumped up and down, like in a temper tantrum, thumping my hands through the air. My mouth and body were only going through the motions.

 

Just like in the movies, I woke up with a start, sat up and was panting like I’d just run a marathon. But it was real. I know it happened.

It was early in the morning, the sun just coming up. I got up and checked my kitchen to see if my kids were here. “It’s not moving day,” I told myself. “Nobody’s coming through the door.”

I got back in bed, one more hour until my alarm was set to go off, to get me up for work that day.

A few days later, it was moving day. I rationalized their father would not travel across the country to help my son move a few pieces of furniture and a few boxes.

Still I panicked whenever I thought about it. I had heart palpitations all morning, expecting my ex-husband to show up, yet knowing he wouldn’t. Yet questioning . . .

Does this story sound familiar? Nightmares, panic, heart palpitations, paranoia? Blame Post Traumatic Stress Disorder—PTSD.

Though I don’t have minor children or a court-ordered custody arrangement, I still feel stressed to think someday I will have to see my abusive ex-husband. There will be weddings, college graduations, christenings and baptisms. I’ve already been through one wedding right after my divorce. It was so extremely difficult to even be in the same room with him, let alone stand in a receiving line with him.

I can’t imagine having children who need to be handed off to the errant parent and having to SEE him/her on a regular basis. My very, dear friend has minor children and says seeing her ex makes her go to her panic place (that’s what I call it) and it’s hard not to let it show in front of her kids. Children are amazingly intuitive.

With PTSD, one’s brain goes on a loop, thinking of the “terrible awful” memories harbored within (to quote Minnie from “The Help” for a minute). As time goes by, and distance is allowed from the abusive spouse, those stressful times may lessen, but it often take years.

Healing might be possible quicker if you don’t see the spouse. Absence makes the heart grow stronger, in this case. With grown kids, you can turn the other cheek—and walk away. It’s not that easy with custody exchanges.

My friend seeks the healing wisdom of appealing to our Father in Heaven on a daily basis. She said, “Every day, I make a conscious decision to start my day by ‘choosing’ the Lord.”

Her day begins with prayer, reading scriptures, writing in her journal and listening to uplifting talks by church leaders.

My friend said, “When I do that, I feel the ‘life’ trickle back into me. I feel refreshed and ready to lead my little family along the path of our wilderness with energy and enthusiasm.”

That, my friends, is the number one way to help yourself during a divorce. Prayer. All the pat answers of Sunday School will never steer you wrong.

 

My kids are adults, and, despite the nightmare I had, they know where I stand about their father, at least for now. They might not understand, but they know I don’t ever want to have to see him again.

 

I know I will have to one day. I still have two unmarried children and one college graduation to get through. In the future there will be grandchildren events. Maybe by then I’ll be stronger. Maybe I’ll be able to take it.

 

Healing might come. I’m just not there yet, so I can’t say.

 

How do you cope with child visitation? Do you have nightmares or PTSD loops?

PTSD—Post Traumatic Stress Disorder in Divorce: Part I

I call it Post Traumatic Stress Divorce.

It’s been almost three years since I fled to the west to escape my marriage and abusive, addicted, cheating husband. I call August 14th my Day of Freedom, the first full day after I left for good. I celebrated the first anniversary in 2011 with a party at my house with my close friends who knew my plight.

I know I must be healing a little bit because I used to fall asleep every night thinking of being abused and when I would wake up, the first thing I thought about was his abuse. It was as if I fell asleep watching a horror movie, then woke up and the movie was still on.

Those days only number about once a week now.

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, PTSD, used to be called Shell Shock when I was growing up during the Vietnam war. It was thought only people in the military, in battles where their lives were threatened to a great extreme, suffered from it. Now we know anybody who’s life has been threatened can be stressed like this.

When trust is compromised and your sense of safety is in distress, as in an abusive marriage, it’s only normal to think you’re crazy because your mind is going loopy (literally). During PTSD, caused by a crazy spouse, some people react like a deer in the headlights—paralyzed from fear, unable to stop their thoughts of the last time they were abused.

Sometimes it only takes a trigger, like a sentence on television, or even a conversation about marriage, to bring on my PTSD cycles. (Yes, I have been diagnosed with PTSD.) I can be sitting in church and get on a loop. It happened to me at a Weight Watchers® meeting last week. The instructor called on me saying I looked like I had a question. I didn’t even know what she was talking about. I said, “No, I’m just listening.”

I find I can shake myself out of it a lot easier now, but I know I have a long way to go.

While it’s normal to have nightmares and triggers from a traumatic event, the symptoms should only last a few days or weeks. PTSD sufferers may take years to recover, if they ever do.

HelpGuide.org is a good website that lists the symptoms and causes of PTSD. While verbal abuse and divorce aren’t listed as causes yet (physical abuse is), there is a disclaimer that states it can be caused by “. . . any shattering event that leaves you stuck and feeling helpless and hopeless.” Divorce lawyers and counselors are working to get "high conflict divorce" added to the list of PTSD causes. I think there should be a new classification cause on that list called “Traumatic Marriage.”*

According to the website, there are three main types of symptoms of PTSD:
1.     Re-experiencing the traumatic event
2.     Avoiding reminders of the trauma, and
3.     Increased anxiety and emotional arousal.

Symptoms of the first type:

1.     Upsetting memories of the event

2.     Flashbacks

3.     Nightmares

4.     Feelings of intense distress when reminded of the trauma

5.     Intense physical reactions to reminders of the traumatic event, like pounding heart, rapid heartbeat, muscle tension, sweating

Symptoms of the second:

1.     Avoiding activities, places, thoughts, feelings that remind you of the event

2.     Forgetting aspects of the trauma

3.     Loss of interest in life (depression, in my book)

4.     Feeling detached and emotionally numb

5.     Sense of a limited future or no normal life again

Symptoms of the third:

1.     Difficulty falling or staying asleep

2.     Irritability; outbursts of anger

3.     Difficulty concentrating

4.     Being on “red alert”

I'm imbued with all the symptoms of the first type, number one of the second type, and number one of the third type. Hoping to get past it all someday.

Does this all sound familiar? You might be suffering from PTSD. How do you cope? I'd like to know.


This is Part I of however many parts it will take to do this subject justice. Just like depression, PTSD is a part of a betrayed, abused spouse’s life.

Edit: psychologists now call PTSD from abuse and adultery in a marriage/divorce "Betrayal Trauma."

Are Autoimmune Disorders Eating You Alive?

By Susan Knight

Whenever I hear that women have autoimmune diseases I straight away think, "I wonder if they're having marital problems?"

It's a natural reaction. I suffered with autoimmune diseases my whole married life. They come on gradually, like that story about the frog that is tossed into a pot of tepid water. The burner is turned on and the frog doesn't notice the gradual change in temperature until it's too late and it's cooked.

I was cooked, so to speak. The last marriage counselor I went to told me, very bluntly, that I was going to die. He said either my husband was going to kill me because his verbal abuse would turn into physical abuse, or I would die from the inside out from all the autoimmune diseases I had. Fibromyalgia and lupus were the biggest, followed by allergies that were added to almost on a yearly basis.

What was miraculous to me was, as I escaped my marriage and fled out west, I noticed a decided change in how I felt--even while driving across the country.

An autoimmune disorder occurs when the body's immune system starts attacking itself. For instance, pollen isn't harmful to the body, but people with pollen allergies have immune systems that perceive the pollen to be harmful. The body releases antibodies to destroy the so-called invading substance.

Did you read that right?  Yes. The body starts attacking itself.

This happens often in abuse and sexual abuse cases. It's not enough that we're being abused or molested, but our bodies, which are screaming at us that something is wrong, finally start attacking from the inside. This, in my opinion*, is because we have used up all our resistance in fighting the outward attacker, and now the attack has gone inward, but is misplaced.

The body is saying, "Okay. I give up. I really can't take this anymore." But the abuse keeps coming and there is nothing left with which to fight it. The body knows something is wrong, so it goes berserk fighting anything that comes along that seems foreign.

Some auto-immune disorders include Allergies, Dermatomyositis (type of skin rash), Hashimoto's Thyroiditis, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, MS, Rheumatoid Arthritis, Lupus, Celiac Disease-sprue (gluten sensitivity), Fibromyalgia, Type II diabetes, Hypoglycemia. **

Joints, muscles, connective tissue, red blood cells, skin, blood vessels, endocrine glands--these all can be affected. Symptoms include fatigue, fever, rash, hives, malaise (feeling ill in general), muscle pain, joint pain, and many more.

I also believe these auto-immune diseases cause situational depression and even major depressive episodes (what we used to call nervous breakdowns) because we don't feel well and don't know why. Everyone thinks we're hypochondriacs. We're not wearing band-aids, or casts.

The depression is two-fold. It's caused by being ill-treated by an abuser, plus being misunderstood by our friends.* Who wants to be around a downer person? So we put on a happy face to look good.

But a depression discussion will be left for another post.

Until then, examine your life. Is your body screaming at you?

Mine did. It was like a voice within me that was suppressed down in the basement or a dungeon, banging on the door, screaming, "Listen to me! Let me out! You know I'm right!"

But I wouldn't let it out. I wouldn't acknowledge it. I knew, deep, deep down, it was my husband who was causing me to feel like this. But I had to maintain the perfect family facade. I had to save face, look good.

I'm begging you. Please listen to your body. Your psyche, your inner self, knows you and only wants the best for you.

Listen, even though you're scared.  Don't wait thirty-three years like I did. Start to love yourself, and get help, if you need it.

The up side is, I am so much happier with myself. It's still hard to show emotion, though. I had to suppress it for so long. I have to remind myself to smile, or laugh. I am worthy to do those things, even though my abuser made me feel less worthy to show emotion--of any kind.

It's my prayer that my readers will realize they are worthy to be loved, to show emotion, trusting that the love is reciprocated by so many. I know it's hard. I am still trying. It's probably one of the steps I have left to climb. But I will succeed. . . some day.

*This is just my opinion, though I'm sure psychologists could back it up, like my marriage counselor did
**http://www.nlm.nih.gov/medlineplus/ency/article/000816.htm

Excerpt from my divorce memoir

July 15, 2010
 . . . There are so many steps in this divorce process.
It’s as if these steps are shoulder height, right under the arm pits. I spend so much time trying to pull myself up and over them. I jump, reaching for a stronghold that doesn't exist, only my elbows hold me up. Hanging and searching, my feet scrabble for something to push on, to connect with.
Finally, my chest, then my whole torso is over. My lower body dangles. Using all my upper body strength, I swing my legs back and forth, up and over the step.
Sometimes I come crashing down, but eventually, I make it up, only to see another enormous step as high as the last one I just climbed.