Settling In...PTSD

1 Sam. 10:26  "And Saul also went home to Gibeah; and there went with him a band of men, whose hearts God had touched."

Settling in...PTSD

Settling into my home was not as easy a task as you’d imagine. Happy-go-lucky Joni was a shell of a being. The nurses had noticed in the hospital and nursing home, and they didn’t even know me, the physical therapists saw it, and my family just assumed I was sad. No, the trauma I had experienced was a little more than depression or sadness, it had all the earmarks of PTSD.

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is not a light analogy of depression or sadness, it is a severe trauma that is triggered ever so lightly by sounds, pictures, faces, or names. It is a fear so intense that not even the Light of God Himself standing beside you can wash away, it is THAT severe. People who don’t have PTSD will never comprehend the magnitude of pain a person suffers through.

Last year is almost a complete blank to me, except for the trauma. Have you ever opened an MS page and saw a blank screen staring you straight in the eye and you felt a trembling panic for a few seconds not knowing what you were there to write? Every morning I open my eyes a blank page lay before me; what I put on that page shapes my day physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually. What people say or do become triggers like a bullet waiting to be tapped and released from the barrel, words can shoot a person down. Without even knowing the triggers, friends, and family set off a ticking time bomb inside the psyche of a person suffering from PTSD. Anger, fear, frustration, guilt, and shame all become an open floodgate in the way of tears streaming down my face at any given time. At home, the doctor's office, the physical therapist office, or even in the food store, tears unleash without warning.

When my home health nurse noticed my PTSD along with my physical therapist, I was put in touch right away with a counselor. While I liked Dee, she was more about telling me her story than hearing mine. It was fine because that is the kind of front I put up, I’ll help you, you can’t help me; it’s an unbreakable barrier. I basically thanked her for listening and sent her on her way as I cringed inside. I was broken.

I could see the pieces of myself scattered on the floor. I wanted ever so much to take a whisk broom and scoop the particles onto a dustpan and toss them in the trash but I was immobile, disabled. There was no scooping going on any time soon. I would sit in the silence of the house, meditate in the quiet of aloneness, and pray to the only God I know and worship. Only He could get me through this, in time. HIS TIME, not my time. Here we go again.

Settling into my new surroundings would have me fearful of nightfall. Sounds would ricochet off the walls while shadows would pirouette. You would think that home was familiar surroundings but to me, I felt as if I was an orphan dumped off to this house with a family I didn’t recognize.

As the fragments of my life lie on the floor, images of last year shine like a mirror swaying in the sun, blinding me as I see good and bad portions flailing about. This trauma was not a phase I was going to laugh my way out of as if nothing bothers me. Each step I take would be like tiptoeing in a minefield, a trigger to tears or to laughter, to pain or to joy. I don’t have a choice in the matter, I just tread lightly and make every day a new day, every step a step toward healing.

God's time is not my time as I stroll along the healing path. I’ll endure the steps I needed to take to get me to the healing sea where I will eventually take a luxury dip and swim like a fish in open waters. Right now I’m still in an saltwater aquarium awaiting release in the open sea. God tells me ‘patience’, ‘faith’, and most of all ‘TRUST’, and in Him is where I’ll find my healing. The Joni I remember is still there in the windowed world… it's just going to take some patience, faith, and trust to find her again.

Lam.3:23 "They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness."

New Year Blanks

Rom. 3:23 “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.”

January 1st, 2019

I was asked in a dream what one scripture if I could choose, would define the coming year. Some people choose a word, some a scripture. It doesn’t really mean that your year will be defined by what you choose, it basically says, hey I remember this one. This one touches me on many different levels.

I choose this one because while I don’t judge people I do sin. Everyone sins. I don’t wake up and try to sin, just the opposite, I wake and try NOT to sin. Big difference. It seems everyone else wakes up and just sins without care. Again, I'm not judging, I just disagree with that kind of living, but whatever works. So this scripture will define my blank posts for the year. If I miss a day of writing. This scripture will define my blank page days, and be a fill-in as I continue writing, healing and telling you, the rest of my story. It will also remind me that I DO sin! But God still loves me! 

My New Year began on Tuesday, January first, at least that is what the calendar said. My friends who know me, know I don’t celebrate ‘the New Year’ per se, I celebrate my new year on Easter. Instead of a pagan holiday, I turn Easter into a holy-for-me day, my New Year will begin, I will start anew! 

January first… a day like any other day. No physical therapy. Just me enjoying my new freedoms as I heal. I can now make my own breakfasts, wash dishes, do laundry, dust furniture and vacuum, and a major can-do is I can SHOWER! I did that over the weekend as well as my housework. Today was a rest day before we dismantle Christmas. Frigid temps would keep the doors closed and the heater on as we wait for a predicted thaw for the rest of the week.

May the New Calendar Year be a blessed onset of righteous living! May I grow even more Spiritually as the days progress and I work on becoming ever closer to God. 

HAPPY NEW YEAR! 

The Rainbow... a promise from God! 

Images

I love taking pictures of trees. Dead or alive they hold mysterious beauty as to the struggles, the winds and the storms they've endured.

The sunrise...

and sunsets...the trees come alive.

I think the clouds lend a hand in the beauty. 

Simply put... trees are the branches of life

My Survival

Luke 12:15 "And he said unto them, Take heed, and beware of covetousness: for a man's life consisteth not in the abundance of the things which he possesseth."

SURVIVAL

My survival will be the life of me and the eventual death of me. I strive every waking day to be a vibrant life force in the world but sometimes my immediate surroundings and events throw a pebble into the smooth running cog. One minute I’m a peppy go-getter ready to tackle the world and in the blink of an eye I can turn and wonder what all this struggle is for, what purpose and to what end.  I read something yesterday about this path in life being the path we were destined to be on, good and bad, it is our path laid out for us. I know where the path leads but getting there is no walk in the park, that’s for sure.

I really feel sorry for the folks skipping down the path on their merry way thinking this is all that there is and just keep going until they hit a dead end. They neither care for the in-betweens, are blind to the beginning and end of the line, or they just can’t be bothered, they’re here to live and die. Well, that sounds like a fulfilling life.

Had it not been for this disease, I would still be skipping down the path, if truth be told. I would’ve never had a reason to fight to stay alive but this illness brought me to a juncture in my path and colored it with purpose. I’m not staying alive for anyone around me, that to me is pointless, I’m surviving for the end of the line, where I meet the face of Jesus. All this in between stuff is to show you the strength and determination that resides in people with a purposeful end-of-the-line view. 

My sister had an incident a couple of weeks ago where her outside electric box was shooting sparks. Fearing for the loss of everything she began gathering pictures and stuff that had meaning to her. The fire department came and said the electric company would have to come out and put a new box in. My sister, needless to say, slept in her car with her stuff until the next day when the electric company came. 

Maybe it is just me who is unattached to stuff but I thought if something like that happened to me, I’d grab my writing. I couldn’t think of anything else, nothing came to mind. On Sunday when we went to see his family, I looked around at the hundreds of pictures lining the walls. This family is all about pictures. When we were getting ready to literally walk out the door we were stopped by the words, “Let’s get a picture.” The picture wanted was not of hubby and me but of all of those who were there.

Four different people wanted pictures (I wasn’t one of them) and we had to stand and allow four different cameras to click a shot. Twenty minutes later we were finally heading out the door. I scratch my head thinking what is it? I don’t like my picture being taken for one, and also, there is more to life than pictures. Sure you get a snapshot of a memory but what for? To possess, to brag, boast and share? I don’t get it. You can never relive those moments and the best of the moments are stored in your memory, do people really need the physical picture? Is that what is important in life?

My point being in all of this is that people cling to the darndest of things. The materials we acquire in life are not going with us when we die. I don’t even know if our memories go with us. We move on and all of this is left behind, that is what I work every day for, the end of the line. Not for what is here and now, not for memories and pictures but of the life and the world I will live in when I pass. I guess I’m weird like that. I don’t cling to materials.

Words, not pictures, matter most to me. When I pass, my family will scarcely find pictures of me. They’ll look at the pictures they dig up, weep and cry for what WAS, what they missed, and what they didn’t get to see. The image will not tell my story by any means but if they scan my words, they’ll get the entire picture of who I AM! The images will show I lived, I died, but my words, they will enter your soul and you will FEEL me long after I go! This is one of the very reasons for my need for survival, to leave something worth reading behind. One picture is worth a thousand words but my words will hold millions of pictures.

I pray each and every one of you are touched and blessed by my words! My purpose will be fulfilled. All praise and Glory to God! 

Matt. 6:33 "But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you."

Me - Images

Prov. 15:31 "The ear that heareth the reproof of life abideth among the wise."

This was me at three years old. What a cutie I was. They were my favorite slippers!

I was about 37 or 38 in this picture. It's a guess.

I was about 40 here

I'm 49 in our wedding photo!

51 years old. This was 8-21-17. Eclipse gazing

Summer of '17 and 40 lbs lighter than my wedding photo! 

God has been very good to me giving me a second chance to change the mess I made out of life.

Prov. 21:21 "He that followeth after righteousness and mercy findeth life, righteousness, and honour."

Flowers - images

My flowers of  the Summer of 2017

I didn't plant any this year due to lousy soil conditions. I said, "Whatever comes up, will be the Lords blessing to me."

These are purple Salvia but sure look blue.

Butterflies visited me often. 

The angels aren't plants silly, they're just guarding what grows! 

It was a great summer! 

Poetry Sunday~ Illusion

Ecc. 5:8 “If thou seest the oppression of the poor, and violent perverting of judgment and justice in a province, marvel not at the matter: for he that is higher than the highest regardeth; and there be higher than they.”

I tried so hard to simply take
A picture that’s real or is it fake?

Cheap camera in hand, I took a shot
The sunshine is real, the horse is not

Here they stand stellar in pose
Like riddles amid well-worded prose

Life sometimes is simply abstract
When digging among lie or fact

A political year wrought with lies
Manifested with a camera’s eyes.