Saturday, July 11, 2015

The REAL Reason I Have Post Traumatic Stress

"...and all those things I didn't say, wrecking balls inside my brain, I will scream them loud tonight, can you hear my voice this time..."

I don't believe anything except facing the oncoming tidal wave of relapse currently before me coupled with the threat of losing everything to this illness could have convinced me to create this post.  The type of post traumatic stress I have is compound and my more faithful readers can well enough guess the basic constituents, but let me tell the story like I have always viewed it but never stated it.  Today I have been battling trauma induced seizures and listening to "Fight Song" in order to pull it together enough to be a mother to my kids.

"...I might only have one match, but I can make an explosion..."

I have from a very early age known several things instinctively.  I have instinctively known that love is a powerful force.  I have instinctively known that the commandments of God were to be kept and that this was truly the only way to live one's life.  I knew that people, no matter how dark and vile, could change.  I knew that bringing souls unto God was of paramount significant and that truly, nothing else in this world proved more important.  The world tried to tell me that I was wrong; it tried to convince me that logically it proved more reasonable to get revenge than turn the other cheek.

"...and I don't really care if nobody else believes...."  

True it is that several aspects came into view around the time of my contracting post traumatic stress, but I was already well on my way to being ill for some time beforehand, partly because I was determined, no matter what, to defend a tiny snippet of scripture, namely the Sermon on the Mount, and I was willing to stake my life on the idea that a person could turn the other cheek after a physical or emotional blow, answer softly in the face of hatred, and come out conqueror.  These were the commands of God, and I knew with all of my soul that if a person followed these instructions under every single type of conditions, they would be led aright.  I was fully conscious that in doing so I might have gotten ill.  I knew I was risking pain and even death but what mattered more to me was that I defended the truths of God against those around me who sought to do wrongly, who believed that the only way to progress in this world was through yelling louder than the other guy.  In short, I saw the flaws in this world and staked everything in me on my testimony that whatever else a person sacrificed, Christlike love was the right decision and it ultimately would prove that Christ centered selflessness could conquer all opposition.  I knew God was at the helm and I might live or die as He saw fit.  

"...this is my fight song..."

Sometimes the best way a person can fight, as the Savior Jesus Christ and Mahatma Gandhi well illustrated, is to stand still and take a blow.  I took many psychological blows from many people.  Even as one person traumatized me to my knees another would take me aside and yell for hours at a time at me for being such a wicked person, pointing out vehemently many things that they believed I was doing wrong; I remember some of them venting the bitterness of their own childhood on me, recklessly blaming me for things that had happened to them long before my own conception.  Many of my friends became convinced that I was a horrid person and jumped into the fray against me.  Those I trusted turned their backs on me, and still others that I loved and had trusted, both family and friends, gossiped about me maliciously behind my back.  At the heart of the matter I had done nothing wrong, and I see now that the Lord allowed this experience so that I could truly testify, body and soul, of Him and of the power of His teachings.  I loved all these people and it was for their souls that I endured this.  I knew that there was good in them and though they hurt me, yet I was determined that they would soften their hearts, rise up in glory, and come closer to the Lord their God who beckoned to them with open arms.  And if I perished, I perished.

"...I'll be strong...."

I have seen many of these people overcome those tendencies toward anger, yelling, recklessness and sin in the eight years that have elapsed since my first trauma induced seizure.  I have seen many of them soften their hearts and turn more fully toward their God.  That was all I had wanted; that had been the answer to many of my prayers.  And you, my gentle reader, I want you to know that there is someone out there, though I may not know your name, who believes in you and wants you to turn toward the Lord in greater measure than you ever dreamed.  I know that there is goodness in everyone.  I have seen those who attacked me change their lives for the better.  I have seen myself progress and grow spiritually until I can hardly recognize my own person from what it had been.  Just as I was willing to believe in them, I am willing to believe in you, because in spite of everything

"...I've still got a lot of fight left in me."

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