I have PTSD, Post-Traumatic Distress Disorder. Sometimes you get it from events that involve people. Sometimes people aren't involved at all.

I'm not telling you how I got it; it's not yours to know.

I was diagnosed, though, in 2007. Events later that year, and in the following, worsened it, though I don't blame anyone involved in the worsening. Some knew I had it, some didn't; I wish I had had more support, but what was, was.

In the end, you have to deal with it on your own. There is no point in being angry at people, be they those who worsened it, accidentally or unknowningly (which I think is often the case) or at people who I had hoped would give support, or at people involved in causing it, if there were any.

I realized that I need to define what I mean, as I go through this. When I talk about a hardened heart, I can mean three different things; what I meant as the most painful one is a theological term I apply to four people only.

Forgiveness is the most important one to define. As a person, I have to forgive for my health and the health of the other, whether I see the results for them or not. As a follower of Christ (and I use that, now, not Christian, as I think I have been too hurt by Christians and Christianity, seen the rules changes when convenient too many times), I have to say that forgiveness is more than a neutral feeling. I found a quote, in looking up things on forgiveness--not a religious one--and this is what I mean.

"Many people hold onto a grudge because it offers the illusion of power and a perverse feeling of security. But in fact, we are held hostage by our anger. It is never too late to forgive. But you can forgive too soon. I am especially wary of what I call saintly forgiveness. Premature forgiveness is common among people who avoid conflict. They're afraid of their own anger and the anger of others. But their forgiveness is false. Their anger goes underground. I define forgiving as letting someone back into your heart. This returns us to a loving state -- and not merely within the relationship -- we feel good about ourselves and the world. True forgiveness isn't easy, but it transforms us significantly. To forgive is to love and to feel worthy of love. In that sense, it is always worthwhile."
-Robert Karen, Phd Bottom Line Personal, November 1, 2001

I was raised Catholic, and I think in Catholic terms, and so I think of the sacrament of Reconciliation. And that is exactly what is described here, by this doctor, with nothing to do with religion at all.

I have learned to let myself be angry. And I have worked through the anger, and that is why this is such a painful process for me; each person, each event, I have to go through and relive emotionally and experience the anger I repressed, because I was afraid of it.

But I can't be afraid of it anymore, or I'll never do what I need to do.

I was reading the first volume of the Temple of the Twelve last night, Novice of Colors, and I found myself weeping without realizing it, as it touched something that I'd bandaged up but had never healed, something related to my PTSD.

And then I was sobbing. And it was okay. And I'm writing this, personal as it is, and making it public, because I know there are others like me, in one way or another, who need to know one or more parts of this.

I don't name names--which may mean some people assume I'm talking about them. I can't help that, though I can say that those who do are often wrong. But privacy is my gift to everyone who needs it.

I just want to say this: I love you. I forgive you. And I welcome you. I am careful, yes, and some of you I don't have the strength to seek out. But I'd welcome you--sometimes with caution--if you approached me.

I'm imperfect. But I've had my pain, and I've had my anger, and now I've forgiven and let go. I am capable of reconciliation with man, like (though mine is such a lesser extent) the reconciliation I am so grateful God grants me, knowing I'll never earn it.

I could see much more clearly after I cried what damage I could have done, i fI hadn't decided to do this to and take these steps to grant me peace, both now and for whenever I die. Before, my anger and fear and pain was like a shield around me; nothing could get in to hurt me.

But none of the pain could get out, either. And if I had kept it up, I would have cute myself off from so many things.

Hard hearts are strong in their own way, after all--but not all kinds of strength are good. Not if it keeps the good things out and the bad things in as well as other bad things out.

I had such a moment of peace and clarity in reading that section of the book last night; to me, the Colors are all aspects of the one God, which is the One Black spoke of. And I just happened to read the right thing from the right color at the right time.

And so I can honestly say, I forgive you. With all that means, as I've defined it. I love you.

I can't apologize for things never done. But for anything I have done, I do repent and ask forgiveness from you and God both, and would perform penance if asked.

But whether you forgive me or not, I forgive you, all of you--I'm in different stages for some people than others, but I'm working on every one that needs the work.

And to all of you, I love you. Deeply, personally, closely, and truely. And it's not just words.

It may not mean anything to you at all. I know that.

But it's still true.

Love doesn't sit there like a stone, it has to be made, like bread: remade all the time, made new. | Og Mandino (1923 - 1996)

The holidays are nearly here, though it doesn't feel that way. And so I have holiday icons, four different ones. I love the one of the pink ornaments on the white tree the best, I think; it makes me think of eating pure snow that tastes the way you think it should when you're a toddler, and what Candyland might really be like if you stepped into it, ornaments really fruits that taste like nothing imaginable and everything desirable.

I have so much work it makes me almost ill; the problem is, of course,that I am ill with it. My head throbs and my chest still hurts rather badly. I need to take a muscle relaxant for pain, but that means taking a pill to stay awake, and it feels like all my day is filled with tablets and capsules and liquids and ointments and shots, each one to balance out or protect against another, and then those few that kill the diseases themselves.

It's December, and even though it's been rather warm here in Tennessee, it's cool outside; I feel like it's the middle of July, and my stomach rebels against the mixtures in it.

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I pray, each day. For people who I doubt would ever think I do. I was a minute ago. I pray for their peace, for their health, for their grace; for fortune in their lives, for health, for needs to be met, for them to know forgiveness is granted and for them to forgive in return, and for ever and always love.

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I am so tired. I kept up the wall against reality and fear and thinking about some things I know I'll be stuck with all my life for so long, and I didn't even realize how much work it was. But I half-wish it was still up.

I never said I was brave. I never said I was strong. I never said I could always be okay with this and deal with it at all, and especially never said I could do it alone.

I feel very alone, most the time. Not always. But most the time. Alone and lonely, unimportant and fading into the background and given little thought by most. (I feel; logic has no place, sometimes, except to make me feel guilty, too, every now and then, about feeling so.)

And the worst part is being afraid to ask for the support or help you need, even if it's just to talk about it--because what if listening is too much?

And then I'll be even more alone than I am now.

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I have schoolwork to do; I have 7 days and I really need to do a week's worth each day. For my brain, this is easy. For my body--

I am so frustrated with my body. With my body, with life, with the stubborn natures of others and with wondering about my own. I am so frustrated with wishing that someone would stand up for me, or hold my hand. I am so frustrated with having to be understanding on top of the rest.

And I have to. Because I can't be me and be otherwise.

But it wears, too, and I feel so tired that I wonder, with all the mess and all the wear and tear, why I bother trying to do so much and why it's so important to me to do this or that.

(And the answer is, because I'm me. And I made up my mind to do this long ago. To love and to forgive, to understand and to stand up for others unconditionally, not to be angry if it doesn't happen when I need someone to do it for me, to protect others from embarrassment even if it would be easier on me to reveal their actions, to be truthful and kind both, and to never give up. And I have to keep doing it, imperfectly though I may, to keep trying to be the me I'm meant and need to be.)

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Nerves in my lower back have degenerated rather a lot from--oh, from one of them. Lyme, bartonella, babesia, what does it matter which? One did it. There's only so much healing--"repair work"--that can be done, and it can only be started when I'm totally well. And until then, they degenerate more.

Sitting hurts. Standing hurts more. I worry I'll end up in a wheelchair again; I was for a while in high school.

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The essence of Christianity is something I love with all my heart.

But Christianity as a religion involves communion with the other as well as communion with God. And too many times I've been hurt too badly by Christians who were not at all Christ-like, with hardened hearts and unwillingness to forgive, even if they were in turn. And that's the most critical part, to forgive, to work and rebuild, to accept the penitent and the prodigal home again.

If you're turned away enough--by individuals or organizations, by a bishop, a teacher, a parishioner, a fellow worshiper, a pastor, or even a friend (Brothers and Sisters in Christ, are we not?), no matter if it's a member of your denomination or another--then you stop trying to come in.

Maybe that's what it is most, for me. I've always said I would never give up, but maybe I'm at that point anyway. Or too tired to try. Maybe for now, or maybe for always.

I don't know.

But I can't not think about it. And it hurts as badly as anything physical could.

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I have work to do. I'll do my best to get it done, even if it kills me. If not, I'll retake the course--again.

I wish the schoolwork was all I had to deal with. That would be so simple.

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I want to live, not just exist.

I want to love, and for it to be known.

I want to dance, and for it not to hurt.

I want to forgive, and I want to be forgiven.

I want to go home, and I want to be welcomed back.

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I miss something.

I don't even known what anymore.

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I'm not depressed--or, rather, I am a bit, but that's not the motivating...force, emotion, choose the term you like best, within me at the moment. And by "the moment" I mean "since that appointment".

It's--it's a lot of things, I guess. It's love, and fear, and a constant sense of time, and pain--and more, the utter absence of pleasure--and determination, and a need to keep going when I feel like I'm on empty. And feeling like I've been drenched in reality and awareness, of knowing exactly what each thing about my body and health and medications means.

And I continue to believe I will get entirely better, that I will be cured and okay and have a life, a good one, and I live like this will be so.

But all the rest is in my head now, too. Almost all the time.

And that, too, wears me down.

Choose Any/As Many Numbers As You Want And Ask Me The Associated Question(s)



Seriously, ask anything.

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I'm still stuck on this, and I probably will be for a good while, though it won't take over the blog. I do suspect I'll ask for ideas from time to time, or help if needed.

I promised myself I'll have no regrets when I die and leave nothing undone, and that is a promise I intend to keep, by God.

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I don't know anymore what religion I belong in. Oh, I know God exists; I know God is loving. I know Christ and his work and death was part of God's plan for humanity, and I believe his teachings; I'm not sure I believe what people teach about him.

I don't know where I'll end up. But I'm not worried about that either. I don't have the energy to be worried, or anxious, or hold grudges, or hate. And I refuse to do any of them, either. What a waste of a life.

I think part of what finally pushed me over the edge was seeing so many people who claimed to be Christians act in such un-Christ-like ways. And that's almost a sort of cancer that eats away at true Christianity. Perfection is not required. But when the behavior, the average behavior, is un-Christ-like and it does not change...then there's a problem. And it decays the Church, eats away at all those who attend.

And it hurts.

And I don't think I can do it any more. God is my mother/father, my Ima--my informal name for God, like Mummy or Daddy, when I was little--and I love God. I feel God's presence every moment, or else I'd have just fallen asleep and never woken up a long time ago.

But I look at this path, and I look at so many others on it, and I see cruelty and abuse and hypocrites, in all denominations, I see anger and grudges and people who'd much rather hold on than let go, who harden their hearts instead of forgive, who close the door when someone knocks on it--and I feel tired and weak.

No religion is perfect. No human is perfect.

But I worry Christianity has worn me down, and I can't afford that anymore.

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If it's in my head, it may as well be in yours, too. I'll try to embed it, and then just put in a download link.

Tim McGraw - Live Like You Were Dying

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Re-adding a lot of exercise and going back on the Flat Belly Diet. I felt so very good on that.

After the 12th. *wry* So much for class till then. I'll go mad, but I''ll do it.

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I was accepted to Seton Hill in Western PA. Guess I'm moving there come Spring.

Meant to post this here and crosspost to LJ, but. I didn't.

So I'll put it here now.

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It's one of my favorite verses from the Bible. Especially because God's voice can come from anywhere--and anyone. So you have to be open to softening your heart and opening it to anyone and everyone, to forgiving them, to welcoming them in or back in.

That is the essence of Christianity. To refuse to harden your heart and to accept the forgiveness of others and give your own, while you welcome those you've been hurt by or angered by or even damaged by.

To do otherwise is to deny the faith. It is not easy, any more than loving others as God loves you is easy. It is still necessary.

If today you hear His voice--no matter from what source--harden not your heart.

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So. Specialist appointment.

I don't think I've had a doctor appoitment that's left me so emotionally shaken. I've played Live Like You Were Dying more times than I want to admit.

So, here we go.

1) The doctor does believe I am getting better.

2) Until I am 100% cured of everything, my risk of dying remains just as high, though, especially from a heart attack (which I'm at extremely high risk for) or a brain anneurysm.

3) He is seeing more and more people dye of Lyme and/or bartonella all the time.

4) We have had to stop my bartonella treatment for now.

5) Not only the disease strains my body, but the many medications do as well. Especially my heart and liver. I've done remarkably well, given the doses I'm on and how many medications I'm on that do harm, long-term--and it's been a very long-term--but the fact remains that my liver and heart are...issues.

6) My stomach is also. I throw up about twice a week, and I'm no longer digesting food well; I sometimes throw up food I ate two days ago.

7) I'm on stimulants and muscle relaxants and pain killers and cyst busters and antibiotics and other kids of antibiotics and anti-inflammatories and and anti-parasitic drugs and supplements and vitamins and I can't even remember right now what else. All of them have side effects.

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So for some reason, and don't ask me why, it hit me harder emotionally than it ever has before. I think I've been in denial, or emotionally withdrawn.

THe odds of my dying are probably better than my living.

I'm not afraid to die. I'm honestly not.

I'm afraid to die, though, with regrets. With leaving things undone and unfinished and unresolved, with not dealing with the things that plague or haunt me, without trying as many times, or at least one last time, to fix things, especially things that are messed up for the most human and thus most foolish of reasons.

I don't mind dying, but I want to live in the meantime. I want to jump out of a plane. There's a cliff nearby that I plan to jump off of before I move in the spring; I'll get a ticket for jumping off of it into the river, but what do I care? I wanted to before and stopped myself; I won't now.

I want to do all the things that scare me.

I've forgiven everyone who's harmed me, ever. I've forgiven everyone I fought with. But I need to talk to them and try to restore a relationship, in many cases, especially in the cases where it's stupid. Validly painful, but for human reasons that were foolish on both sides. I need to try and heal that.

I need to do everything so I have not a hardened heart and so I have peace.

Then, whatever happens--and I'm going to continue to believe I'm going to get better, mind you--it'll be okay. I'll have done my best and all I can.

But I've got to do it. All of it, even if I have to ask some people for help for some of the things. I'd rather not, but in a few cases, I know I have to.

Because if I should be wrong and things don't work out--I've cried a lot the last few days. I don't want to cry anymore. I want to make things better. I need to do all of this.

Because then it's okay, no matter what, and I don't need to worry. And I can keep living and believing I'll get better and enjoy everything to the fullest--but I have to do this. Or it will all get in the way. I hate that I have to ask for help for some, but I do; I hate that the odds are against me, but I hate odds.

I hate that I have to admit I'm scared, but it's not of dying; it's of not finishing or doing the things that need doing for it to be okay, no matter what.

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And that's that.

ETA: There are people who don't watch this blog (either here or on LJ) that I would really like to know about all of this. If you could maybe link to this post with a summary of health stuff et al and what I am doing...it would mean a lot. One of thoe things I have to ask help for, I guess.