Doing the Uncomfortable

I've been having a lot of anxiety since Sunday/Monday.  I can tell because my body does this shaking thing and my head contorts from side to side.  I've gotten use to it.  The problem is that I don't like it when it happens in public.

I saw my therapist today.  My head was doing it's thing and my body was shaking.  I don't think I was having anxiety about the session.  I think it was leftovers from a few days ago.  Anyway, we talked about the blog writings and the little book, "The Rules for 'Normal' Eating."  Faith had me read some of the irrational and rational thoughts.

Then she turned the dial and asked if I'd be willing to do an exercise.  I always get nervous when she wants to do one of those.  It had something to do with sonar, submarines, bats and a submarine Captain who was a little anxious and trigger happy.  Sure, why not.

I'm not sure what the goal was so I don't know if I succeeded.  All I know is it was very uncomfortable and totally against my grain.  I had to repeat a sentence multiple times emphasizing two words with some drama added.  Definitely not me.

The second exercise was to say, "So what?" after everything she said.  I couldn't do it.  I care too much about people to ever say those two words.  In fact, I was upset enough that I had to hide my face and distract her from me for a few minutes while I regained my composure.  I was on the verge of tears.

Like I said, this was some sort of exercise in anxiety.  I don't know if I learned anything.  After a little while of participating I did say I was going to stop.  I guess I learned I'm not comfortable trying to be someone I'm not.

Oh, at one point she zoomed toward me about six inches.  I jumped and said, "Whoa!"  She told me she wasn't going to hurt me or anything.  I should have asked her to back up but I decided to try trusting what she said because she's never lied to me nor has she ever hurt me.  She was true to her word.  Cool.

Maybe trying this little exercise is the source of my success.
Maybe it's not so complicated or deep.
Maybe it's as simple as showing up and doing the work I'm asked to do.

I can take a deep breathe and say to myself, "Well done, Amy."

My Wishes

I wish my life was a little bit easier.

Not for the sake of being spared discomfort or having an easy life.
Not for the sake of being able to brag about only having joy.
Not for the sake of never knowing a painful experience.

I wish my life was a bit easier so that I can get more good things done in the name of God and in the name of Jesus. 

I wish I had more energy so that I could serve as a volunteer in an organization I could get behind.

I wish I had monetary resources so that I could give to ministries who are helping the poorest of the poor.

I wish I had a brain that fired on all cylinders all the time so that I could contribute new ideas to companies who are finding ways to break barriers in some of the most remote regions in the world.

I wish I had a body that was completely pain free so that I could lift and carry and build homes with Habitat for Humanity.

I wish I had a healed psychological mind so that I could spread the good news about the ways Jesus heals our emotions so we can be set free to bring hope and healing to those around us.

I wish I had a house for myself and my kitties so that they could have a bigger area to play and I could have a bigger area to relax.

I wish my life was a little bit easier.

Meeting With God

"How long, O Lord, will I keep shouting before I quiet down to hear Your whisper?"
 - Amy Endler

Often when I'm running out of patience I zoom ahead in a fury, trying to accomplish what I think I ought to be accomplishing.  I haven't planned nor prepared myself for the "what ifs."  When a road block smacks right into my agenda and everything comes to a screeching halt, I'm frustrated at myself.

Then there are times when I plan and prepare so much that God has no room to make any adjustments.  I think I've covered all the possibilities.  Fear enters into the picture and I am paralyzed by it.  My head contorts and I know what's happening.  Once again I am trying to run my own life with my own agenda instead of God's.

Why is it so hard to submit my life to the God I absolutely adore and love beyond measure?  I'm trying to figure that out.

I suppose it could be some deep unresolved psychological issue.  Lord knows there are plenty of those lurking about.  It could be some sort of sin I'm engaged in and oblivious to.  It could also be a trust issue although I thought I'd already overcome that obstacle.

Listening for God takes discipline.  It's a new habit, really.  I've read that when establishing a new habit (good or bad) it takes 21 consecutive days.  So what kind of habit would lead to listening for God?

For me, it's the practice of solitude, silence and sincerity.

Solitude is being by myself, uninterrupted, for a specific amount of time each day.  Reading my bible, having a quiet time or doing something that slows down my rpm's.

Silence is turning off what's playing in my head and listening to the sounds around me.  The whirring of the refrigerator, the traffic driving by, a cat using the cat box.

Sincerity is talking to God and letting Him know I am here if He wants to tell me something.  Sometimes He speaks through my senses, sometimes through my blog.

My desire is to create an environment He'll want to meet me in and an environment I feel safe meeting Him in.  Our relationship is a two way street.

He always wants to talk with me but He'll never barge in on me.  That's not His style.  He waits for the invitation.

I think that's pretty cool.

Healing or Staying Sick?

In recent days the desire to continue where I left off in my book has been poking at the embers inside my soul.  I'm afraid when I think about the next subjects.  I know in my heart I've already lived through it.

What do you tell yourself when the flashbacks feel so real?  When the memories and body sensations tell you it really did happen?  How can anyone who "loves" you terrorize you in such a way that you live with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder for so many years afterward?

My faith in God, in Jesus, tells me that all of these things happened for a reason I may never understand.  It was not to hurt me or frighten me or to cause me so much pain.  God doesn't do that.

I wasn't created to be someone else's punching bag or sexual gratifier or eye staring contest.

My faith in God, in Jesus tells me that all of these things happened because of man's free will.  It was my Dad's choice to hit me and to yell at me and to shove me into the wall by my neck.

It was my Dad's choice to beat me with a belt and to touch me sexually and to stare into my eyes with his bloodshot eyes about an inch from my eyes.

My faith in God, in Jesus tells me that all of these things can heal.  It's now my choice to let go of the hurts and the hitting, the fright and the yelling, the pain and the shoving.

It's my choice to no longer live like a punching bag or a beaten body, a sexual object or a sexual victim, a person afraid of eye contact or have angry eyes.

As hard as all of this is, I choose to heal.
As hard as all of this is, I choose to love myself forward.
As hard as all of this is, I choose to not live in secret anymore.
As hard as all of this is, I choose to trust this process - myself, my God, my therapist and whoever else God puts in my path.