Weekly meetings available to you are as follows:

Tuesday at 6:30 PM, Truitt Baptist Church - Pearl. Call Matt Flint at (601) 260-8518 or email him at matthewflint.makes@gmail.com.

Wednesday at 6:00 PM, First Baptist Church Jackson - Summit Counseling Suite - 431 North State St. Jackson. Call Don Waller at 601-946-1290 or email him at don@wallerbros.com.

Monday at 6:30 PM , Vertical Church - 521 Gluckstadt Road Madison, MS 39110. Mr. Roane Hunter, facilitator, LifeWorks Counseling.

Wednesday at 7:00 PM, Crossgates Baptist Church. Brandon Reach out to Matthew Lehman at (601)-214-4077 for further info.

Sunday night at 6:00 PM, Grace Crossing Baptist Church - 598 Yandell Rd. Canton. Call Joe McCalman at 601-201-5608 or email him at cookandnoonie@gmail.com.


Sunday, November 22, 2020

Paying Homage To My Hellacious Bout With Post Traumatic Stress Disorder

During the Samson Society fall retreat in Eva, TN, I met a husband whose wife was now suffering from PTSD.  Years ago, I organized a holiday dinner for the Metro Jackson Samson Society groups and there too, I had the privilege of meeting a Samson guy's wife who was struggling similarly.  For both of these wives, the emotional trauma had come in the form of shame (this is my best guess) relative to their husband's unfaithfulness towards them.  I recall vividly the latter wife's (at the dinner) story.  She showed me photos of her and her husband when they were young and in love, telling me stories all the while regarding their family unit (multiple children, etc.).  And then the ugly truth came out regarding her husband's unfaithfulness, and from there a detailed account of how the massive emotional trauma set in.  I found it interesting too that this wife (accompanied by her sister) had even tracked down her husband's lover and physically assaulted her in front of her abode.  None of that seemed to matter though.  Despite her best efforts to "rise above" what had gone down, the toxicity of emotional trauma had moved in for an extended stay.

Back in 2014, the man I served firstly as a Silas had been a minister in north Mississippi.  He had been committing ongoing adultery with two women (one of which was his wife's best friend) prior to her (& everyone in the church / community) finding out.  I cannot fathom the shame and horror she experienced.  I vividly remember him telling me how she would physically assault him, while their counselor was absent from the room, during counseling sessions.

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I have learned firsthand that the brain is fragile.  Much moreso in fact than we care to believe.  From what I understand of it (which is very little) as an organ, the emotional core / center of the brain is deep within, and that part is the oldest, most matured (historically) component.  That translates to mean (for me) that man's emotional core is central to the very definition of what a human brain is.  Therefore, without it, you're not necessarily qualifying a human brain at all.  All in all it's what helps to define us as human.  All manner of beauty and ugliness in life is ultimately transliterated out of this place inside of us.

Another means of translating or understanding that truth about the brain's emotional core, again for me, is how central to the entire expanse of our lives that it is.  As infants, the effective harnessing of our emotions are tantamount to actually surviving.  From there, we learn to trust (or not) our parents / guardians via our emotional selves 'till eventually these feelings lead us towards much deeper commitments such as romantic partners / spouses and even career choices.  All of this points us to how foundational our emotional core truly is to not only our existence but the very definition of who we are.  Therefore, it's very, very difficult to separate circumstance from feelings.  Everything is seemingly intertwined for us.

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My sweet wife suffered a stroke on May 29th of this year.  Today, after much good work in and through her miraculous recovery, she's still unable to feel her left foot or hand to any real degree.  Therefore, regarding her foot in particular, she's developed a gait that serves to compensate her inability to do this "that far down her leg".  This gait isn't nearly as steady or natural as a normal one, therefore when it comes to shoes (relative to safely walking, climbing steps / ramps), she's constrained.  

Of course, women wear lots of different shoe styles, coordinated perfectly with their attire.  Many of those aren't plain jane flats (like sneakers), yet my wife, is limited to / constrained by these choices due to the damage that was done via stroke to her nervous system.  And this as of late is mighty frustrating to her.  Especially considering how little she knows of her own continued recovery and what exactly that will look like - 12 additional months down the road.

So this serves as an example of a physical trauma seeding some emotional trauma alongside, but overall, my point in sharing her current situation is to demonstrate how holistically debilitating brain trauma (of any ilk) can be.  The point is this.  Ain't no organ of more critical importance than our brains.

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+/-Six months after I was terminated for breaking the IT policy (primarily by viewing gay porn and writing on my personal blog) at Delta State University, our family took a beach vacation while the little sinners were out of school for Spring Break.  Angie insisted we do this, and I begrudgingly agreed.  We had amassed bookoodles of Hilton Honors points during the years prior, therefore that served as our means to completely bankroll said excursion.  

At this time though, I was in the deep throes of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, having self-diagnosed myself just one month prior.  PTSD's major symptom are the glorious flashbacks.  They are deeply disturbing and relentless, and for me, after the fact, I found myself dealing with the emotional fallout relative to these daily flashbacks for 2-3 hours afterwards.  From there, emotional fatigue would set in 'till eventually, following some semblance of a night's sleep, my brain would reset and the flashbacks would begin anew, reborn for a new day.  

These flashbacks were on repeat day after day for +/-18 months, and their focus was the 15-minute meeting I was part of in late September of 2013 where my immediate supervisor at DSU (the then CFO) as well as the then Human Resources Director terminated Rob from his position as Director of Facilities / Planning.  Needless to say, their professionalism was greatly lacking during these proceedings, therefore the trauma that ensued made a lasting neurological impression.

Immediately following the meeting, I knew I'd been demonized, but this wasn't necessarily the first time I'd experienced that.  What was distinctly different in this situation was how deeply respected (by me) were those who'd carried out the demonization.  Therein lie the problem.  

Hence, it was like being thrown off an emotional cliff and into a freefall that was neverending.  Day after day, month after month.  PTSD is chronic emotional assault that you have no means to escape from, no matter how much physical distance you put between yourself and the origination of the pain.  It is the most horrific experience I've ever encountered, and I would not wish it upon even my worst enemy.

Therefore, this aforementioned beach vacation, though I did my darndest to be present throughout, didn't do me any (conscious) favors.  For though I was there physically, acknowledging the fact that my traumatized brain chose too to not stay home, my emotional state of mind was all the while at the mercy of my PTSD.

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My most vivid memory of that beach trip was sitting in one of those standard hotel pool chairs on our small balcony overlooking the Gulf (out beyond the single-ply membrane low-slope roof below).  I would sit perfectly still with my eyes fixed on the horizon for hours on end each day.  For this I found was the best means of handling the flashbacks.  Simply sitting perfectly still and allowing them to hit me like so many waves of negative energy was my tried and true approach.  During these episodes, I could still observe what was going on around me, yet I had no empathy towards those within my surroundings.  And I suppose this was the result of my emotional core simply being too overheated / overwrought to carry on any present-day work.

My sweet Angie was kind enough to simply let me be during all of this.  And as you might imagine, the girls were simply happy to be at the beach, even if their dad was acting like a bit of a reclusive freak.

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I pray often for my new friend's wife (who I met during the Samson Society retreat a few weekends back).  Hearing of her bout with PTSD hurts my heart, but especially so knowing her trauma was the result of her husband's doing and subsequent disclosure.  I've often wondered why my Angie didn't similarly develop some form of PTSD from my job loss.  All I know is she did divulge to me that a month or so prior, she'd had a vivid dream of that very thing occurring to our family.  As such, she said repeatedly that she wasn't surprised in the least when I came home with the bad news.

In closing, a few days ago, Angie and I decided to book a beach trip for Q1 2021 to this same venue from seven years prior, and that has truly been sobering to consider over the past 48 hours.  The notion of returning to that resort all these years later is a bit overwhelming to consider.  Considering that, I'm so thankful to have survived the horror of PTSD, taking into account all the good that came from it, and I'm absolutely ready to make some better memories relative to that particular place in light of what it continues to stand for.

God is faithful.  Even when our brains are lying on the ROW bleeding out from the collision.

And of course, there is nothing more beautiful than restoration.  The more horrible the circumstances, the greater the opportunity.  It is the very language of our Lord.


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