Saturday, August 30, 2014

Generalized Anxiety Disorder Stream of Conciousness

Perfectionism is imprinted on my psyche
and if I just keep
and harder 
eat healthy:exercise:breathe:self-care:find the right diet:yoga:journal:go to therapy:pray
I won't be ill any more.


It took me an hour to write that text to you today. 

(What day? To whom? Doesn't matter. Took me an hour. My thumbs were shaking with adrenaline).

Call you? No way I could survive the prep for that.


I'm so scared of messing up because explaining to others failures, mistakes and wrongs decisions is worse than the actual failure. 


What if having GAD means all my dreams and ambitions for being at the top
are never going to come true? I'm fairly bright, I'm focused, I'm diligent, and often rise to the top of things, and then I crumble like a leaf under the pressure. I'm scared I'll never have a consistent career, but I also want one, because I want stability.

"Everybody has a dream that they will never own..." sings Over the Rhine.


When people learn my whole story, I've had a few friends remark they're shocked I'm as stable as I am.

I am unstable,I say inside but don't dare say out loud. Have you heard of functioning alcoholics? I'm a functioning fear-junkie. 


I believe fundamentlism is one of the worst things for mental health, and it preys on the vulnerable, which includes the mentally and physically ill.


I'm scared I'll be like the people in my family before me, who let their darkness eat them alive, and they shipwrecked and lived half-lives. I don't want that to be my story. I want to survive this. But I also fear the sheer amount of work survival will take, and then I want to crawl in hole and fall asleep. And then I understand their half-lives. And then I understand why the darkness ate them, because that's far easier.

"I don't have a few of drowning, it's the breathing that's taking all this work." -Jars of Clay

Friday, August 15, 2014

Explaining The Blog Title

My blog is called "Thy Waves Over Me" (was temporarily "Her Waves Over Me" as a protest against using feminine language to describe God. I went to back to "Thy" to be gender inclusive). It's a reference to two passages of Scripture as translated in the King James Version:
"Deep calls to deep at the noise of thy waterspouts; all thy waves and thy billows are gone over me." Psalm 42:7 
 "For thou hadst cast me into the deep, in the midst of the seas; and the floods compassed me about: all thy billows and thy waves passed over me." Jonah 2:3
The King James translation of the Bible has a lot of mixed baggage for me. As a young child in an irreligious family, I voluntarily decided to start attending a fundamentalist church at the invitation of our neighbors. The King James Bible was the authoritative translation. The flourish and poetry of it's words still echo in my mind, years after leaving fundamentalism behind, and they can sometime trigger a tailspin into the pain of remembering being controlled by misogyny and homophobia. It has shaped the way I write, and no wonder, as it is one of the most influential texts in the English language. As an adult, I've grown to love it's poetry and it's failings as a translation. It is, like any other translation, full of human error. What has stuck with me are the beautiful turns of phrase. So when it came time, years ago, to name my blog, this is the old KJV song that had been stuck in my head since childhood.

Throughout my life I have strongly resonated with the story of Jonah. Wanting to run, to leave, and hoping that instead of my enemies coming to God's forgiveness, that she would just destroy them all. I have felt like an unlikely and unwilling participant in this story of Jesus Christ who came to save. I have tried to leave my faith behind so many times, exploring Hinduism, Atheism, Neopaganism, and Buddhism. You can see my moments of "apostasy" throughout posts on my blog. These times of fluctuation are just as much as part of my spiritual journey as my times of intense faith, as my time as a fundamentalist. There is no erasing the King James Version, or Pema Chodron, or crystal lore, or Bible College, or my time as a hardcore Rachel Held Evans groupie, or Yoga, or Catholicism, from my faith journey. Ultimately, through dreams, signs, and visions I don't seek out and don't want, I end up coming back. Reluctant disciple. I am Luther at Diet of Worms, "Here I stand, I can do no other," I say to Jesus with a look of defeat and resignation. Or I'm more like Simon Peter, who says with conviction, "Lord, to whom shall we go?"
"If you cannot trust him to let you know what is right, but think you must hold this or that before you can come to him, then I justify your doubts in what you call your worst times, but which I suspect are your best times in which you come nearest to the truth-- those namely, in which you fear you have no faith." -George MacDonald 
I do not share my faith journey as an example to be followed. I simply share it, knowing that I'm not the only one. When Christianity is coupled with abuse, it's hard to forge a faith that will impress others, something I was far, far too preoccupied with for a long time. In the musical Wicked there's a lyric, "Some questions haunt and hurt, too much, too much to mention/Was I really seeking good/Or just seeking attention?" And I know that for a large portion of my journey, it has been the latter. From a troubled childhood I was seeking the approval of others, people who seemed steady and charismatic and had leadership qualities and were devout. And I think I've become a disappointment to every single one, and I've come to grips with that. I will continue to fluctuate, to prod, to ask questions, to despair, to boldly claim, to sheepishly inquire. I will continue to let people down. I will continue to worship the God/dess who is at times very unknown to me, and at other times feels closer than my own breath.