Fighting demons

I'm tired.

Fighting demons is exhausting, especially the ones that continue to haunt me long after I thought I had beaten them.  

It's a fight, nearly every day to keep trying.  To not let them win.  But the temptation is strong to give up and give in to unhealthy habits, and have immediate freedom from the struggle.  Whatever it is in the moment.

"Just have it, you'll feel better."

Escape.  Numb.  Give up.

"The fight is too hard, it's too hard to resist cravings and I don't have the energy."

"It won't matter anyway.  This one thing won't change anything.  Not really.  Not today.  I mean, look at me?"

"I can begin again tomorrow.  Or next week".  

Or never.

These are all things I tell myself, except they are all lies and I know it.  Even as I'm saying them, I know. 

Numbness wears off and escape finds its way back to reality.  

A reality that never seems to change.  

I can't seem to change it anyway.

God can, but He's slow about it.

And I don't appreciate that.  

When relief is what we seek, the last thing we want to do is have to wait for it.  

Change takes time and I hate that about it.

I crave the destination, but the journey isn't always pretty.  

It's kind of like riding in an airplane. 

It terrifies me.  I have lots of things in my arsenal to help me through it including meds and oils and wrist bands and snacks and music and alcohol.  "Flying Lisa" is a whole thing.  She's all about creating an alternate reality designed to numb out, escape, hide from the fear and the struggle rather than facing it.   

I don't want to live afraid.  

I don't trust God with my fear.   I tell Him I do, much like I tell others and myself.  But truth is I don't.  

Not really.

Not enough to let go of my arsenal of antidotes.  

Antidote:  a medicine taken or given to counteract a particular poison.

My poison is fear.  And it's deadly.  

It slowly kills the life I want to live, the faith I want to rely on, the truth I want to believe.  

What am I so damn afraid of?  I've been living with it my entire life, this fear, but I'm not sure I've ever really tried to figure out what it is.  What is its purpose, besides to destroy me?  Maybe that's the only purpose.  A demon's purpose is to be demonic.  To steal, kill and destroy, according to the bible.  

Maybe that's just it.  Maybe it's not more complicated than that.  

Demons have arsenals too, and their weapons are fierce and consistent.  They trip me up and snarl at me to stay down and sometimes I listen.  It feels safer to stay low rather than continue to be knocked to the ground over and over. When I"m crawling around in the dirt I don't have so far to fall.  I can sit there with my head on my knees and protect myself from inhaling the dust that gets kicked in my face.  

Except I'm not really protected.  I'm imprisoned.  

Security is not found in isolation, 

and freedom is not found in escape.    

The more I scrounge around in the dirt, the deeper the pit I inevitably dig for myself.

And a pit is not a home.

Because It Does

With everything that's been going on you'd think I'd be writing more.  One thing I've learned about myself...when I'm a little stressed I talk a lot.  When I'm super stressed...

I get quiet.  I shut down.  At least for a time.

But after a while I need to start opening up, or else all the thoughts and feelings and anxiety starts revealing itself in not so happy ways.  

Panic attacks.

Insomnia.

Feeling like something is squeezing my chest and making it difficult to breathe.

Tired all the time.

Overwhelmed.

I'm learning that it's possible to feel all these things and yet still trust God.  I used to berate myself when I got anxious or overwhelmed - thinking it was a sign of a lack of faith.  The more I get to know God, I realize that He wants me to bring these emotions to Him, not try to erase them or hide them from Him, or from others, and even from myself.  

I've spent a significant amount of my life pretending that everything was ok.  Even in the worst of circumstances, I can convince others and even myself that I'm fine.  And I even believe it sometimes.  I numb out with a variety of things (food has always been my favorite) that shield me from experiencing the thing, maybe not completely but at least not so intensely.   

I think in a crisis that defense mechanism can be useful and helpful to get through it.  But there comes a time when the numbing out isn't healthy anymore and I have to peel away some layers and deal with them.  

I'm there.

For someone who has lived a lifetime with an intense fear of something going wrong at any moment, the rug being pulled out from under my feet, or getting blind-sided by something unexpected and painful and terrifying...having your husband almost die from a "widow maker" heart attack can threaten to reclaim all the ground you have gained in prayer and therapy.

Here's where I'm tempted to get all "BUT GOD!" and tell of how He has given me amazing peace and unwavering faith and how He's carried me through and I've come out stronger on the other side of this.  

That would sound pretty impressive and spiritual and I'd probably hear a lot of amens.  But I'd be pretending again.  At least partly.  

The truth is, God has given me peace.  And He's also let me experience being terrified.  Maybe so I'd cling to Him harder.  And maybe so I learn on a deeper level to trust Him to be with me and give me what I need in the moment, no matter what happens.  

Even if the worst happens.

God has given me strength to be there for my husband when he has needed me most.  And God has also let me experience feeling weak and overwhelmed and scared.  

Maybe so I'd cling to Him harder.  

As if my life depended on Him.

Because it does.  

Things I didn't see

 If I didn't get home and start writing, my head would explode.  

That's how I felt today on my drive home from work.  I just finished the book "Educated" by Tara Westover last night and it has had a profound effect on me.  Very profound.  I wasn't expecting that.  

I've been into memoirs lately.  I've never really enjoyed reading fiction, but I love hearing about other people's lives, true life stories about what they have experienced and how they perceived it and how it changed them.  I've read several memoirs, some of which were moving and thought provoking, but none have effected me like this one has and I'd like to discover why.  

I didn't think I had anything in common with the author as I read it.  Her life was very different from mine.  She grew up in rural Idaho in a strict Mormon family.  Her parents were radical in their beliefs, which took priority over everything and everyone.  They didn't believe in sending their children to school, were paranoid about the government and doctors, and they had very little interaction with the world outside of their farm.  She tells about her transformation from the girl she was taught to be and what she was taught to believe (with absolutely no margin to question or change) to learning to think for herself and developing her own beliefs and values.  She didn't abandon her childhood entirely, but learned to integrate what she wanted to preserve with new ideas and values that she chose for herself.  

I can relate to that process immensely, but I will get into that more later on.

What is most profound to me right now is what I've realized about my kids.  Their process of wanting to break free from their upbringing and define themselves on their own terms is natural, and something we all have done.  But I wasn't quite prepared for how it would make me feel.  

The most profound change has been with my first born.  We aren't as close as I yearn to be, as we used to be.  I miss him and my heart physically hurts sometimes because I sometimes feel like I've lost him.  I haven't seen him since our family Christmas and actually for several years he has made it clear that he really doesn't want to be here in our home, hanging out with the family, or with me.  He feels different from us, and in some ways doesn't feel accepted.  He thinks I keep trying to press him into the mold that I want him to fit into, the child he used to be.  I have rejected his idea that I have been doing this, but after reading this book and listening to some interviews with the author, I realize...I think I have in fact been doing that.  On some level anyway.  Not nearly to the extent that the author experienced, but I can see a glimmer from my son's perspective why he would feel that way.

I've had ideas of who he is, or who he should be in my eyes, since he was born.  They don't necessarily match who he is or wants to be for himself.  He has felt it, more than I knew.  I didn't even realize I was doing it to him.  I tried to raise my kids to be who they truly are . . . but through the lens of who I thought they should be, I guess.

Of course I raised them to have the values that were important to me.  I think we all do that as parents, by the way.  We can't help it and I really do think that's how it should be, to a certain extent.  I raised my kids to be kind, loving, responsible, empathetic, to be able to express their thoughts and emotions, to respect authority, and for me...the MOST important thing I wanted to instill in all of our kids, was faith in God and acceptance of Jesus as their Savior.  None of those things are wrong or bad for a parent to want for their children and I don't regret trying to instill these values in my kids at all.  

What I do regret, looking back, are the things that I didn't see. 

More things I'm learning...

Praying with hope and expectation is far better than praying with fear and doubting that God will actually come through.  And it makes the waiting much more bearable.

Things don't have to be perfect for me to enjoy and embrace them (my house, my body, my story).  

Gratitude is powerful.  It is stronger than discontent, destroys envy, breaks down depression and builds a joyful heart and life.

Be present.  Be fully in the moment you are in, and with the people you are with...without distraction.

Do what you can.  Even if you feel like you want to do more, even if you think it's not enough to make a difference, do it anyway.  It will.

Things I'm learning, in no particular order

Doing things for others when you're in a funk is the quickest way out of it.

It's not only ok to pamper yourself (do things that bring comfort, happiness and relaxation), it is essential for a peaceful heart and life.

It's ok to let others think they are right when you just know they're not.  Peace is happier than proving someone wrong.

If I'm not satisfied with what I have today, what I want for tomorrow won't satisfy me either.

When what you had dreamed of isn't matching up with what is...don't give up the dream, adjust it.

There is joy in every season of life.  Don't spend too much time mourning when a season ends (raising children), embrace the one you are in (empty nest) and make it joyful.