And God calls us to remember, just as he called the Israelites to remember his deeds of old. Moses was constantly reminding his people to remember, remember, and not forget. But we, as humans, so often have soul amnesia and forget the past movements of God. The Israelites were literally led out of Egypt and through the dessert by a cloud of smoke and a pillar of fire, yet they forgot God. Moses reminded them how important it was to talk to their children diligently about God's deeds, whether when walking or lying down. He told the people to keep reminders of God's movements in front of their eyes and even written on the doorposts of their houses and gates if need be (Deut. 6)! And they still often forgot... Which makes me feel better when I forget to give God credit for his healing and his movements in my life. And I am thankful that God uses my situation to help me remember.
"I will remember the deeds of the Lord; yes, I will remember your wonders of old" (Ps. 77:11)
"Then take care lest you forget the Lord, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery" (Deut. 6:12)
"Remember the former things of old; for I am God, and there is no other" (Isaiah 46:9)
"Only take care, and keep your soul diligently, lest you forget the things that your eyes have seen, and lest they depart from your heart all the days of your life. Make them known to your children and your children's children" (Deut. 4:9)
"I will remember your name in the night, O Lord, and keep your law" (Ps. 119:55)
So I am keeping the idea of what a blessing it is to "remember" front as center, with that example of my pins-and-needles sensation reminder, as I currently deal with a different kind of pain and reminder. In the last six months I had two separate incidents happen that triggered a physical response in my body that did not seem rational to what was happening around me. In talking it through with my therapist (I still check in with her once or twice a month because I really like hanging out with her), we have come to realize that I have a mild form of PTSD from the shock of Ryan's death. Sigh. The good news is that it does not have to be lifelong diagnosis, I can work to fight this.
The two situations that occurred in the last six months both had with saying a good-bye to someone while I was traveling. The first was the intense wave of anxiety I felt upon leaving Hawaii by myself (with just my kids) in June. The other one occurred while I was in Canada last week. The kids and I traveled to Glacier National Park and up into beautiful British Columbia with my sister's family. We had such fun hiking and kayaking and taking in the beauty of that area! And the plan was that my kids and I would stay in Canada an extra two days before flying home, while my sister's family drove home. It was a plan I carefully thought through, put together, and scheduled, so it was not a surprise in any way. And yet the day my sister's family left, I found myself sitting in my hotel room with my kids while my heart beat wildly and my skin felt like it was burning on fire. My body went into a physical fight-or-flight mode. And yet, in my mind I was totally fine. I told myself: I planned this trip, I am perfectly okay and safe, I can do the last leg of this trip alone, there is nothing to worry about and there is nothing wrong. But the scary part was that even though in my mind I was calm, my body was responding in a very scary way. My body "remembered" its response to the news of Ryan's death and how I was suddenly scared and "alone" from Ryan. When I said good-bye to my sister's family that morning, my body automatically went to that "panic" mode, just as it had when I said good-bye to our friends in Hawaii in June. June's episode was milder in that I only had to endure that feeling for the five-hour flight before I was home and back in familiar surroundings again. Once back in California, it all subsided. Last week however, I had to fight the waves of "panic" for two days before I was back to familiar sights and surroundings. And it was a really scary place for me to be, mostly because I did not understand what was happening. I really disliked being in another country (it was just Canada, but still) and these waves of my body reacted in a way that made no sense to what I was thinking. And so my thinking began to dwell on my body's "panic" response, wondering if the beating heart and burning skin were telling me that maybe I could not do this last leg of the trip by myself and I was alone and I was not okay... But I made a choice each time the wave of panic hit, I decided to just do the next thing that needed doing and ignore the physical response. I took Charlie out kayaking that afternoon to clear my head (being on the water always clears my mind) and I just kept going. It was scary to me, but I just kept going. It turns out that what I did was the right thing to do - to not give in to the physical response happening to me, but simply to use my knowledge and rational thinking to reassure myself that I was indeed safe and secure and capable and not truly alone. And I somehow survived two days of having those physical reaction waves hit me over and over until I was back home to familiar sights and surroundings. Only once I was home was I then able to reflect over what had happened last week... And with the help of my counselor I see now that my body was reacting to the trauma of Ryan's death when triggered by saying good-bye to someone, away from home, and feeling alone. When Ryan died I was away from home and felt very alone - even when surrounded by loving others I still felt abandoned by Ryan and so scared of what was going to happen next. And so now I begin the work of unpacking what that means and fighting this stupid PTSD response... because I will not let my body decide to "remember" things that are simply untrue.
So I think back to my back injury three summers ago and then I let my mind settle on a different kind of pain two summers. Ryan's death felt like a physical pain, but it was mostly an intense emotional, spiritual, and mental pain. Grief kind of just consumes all types of pain I guess. Unlike that previous summer though, when Ryan died I was able to walk - I just did not want to... And, again, I "felt" like my life would never be okay or functioning again. But I somehow decided to fight and find a way forward. I found good counselors and support systems and I began to navigate the road of grief, kind of like navigating my physical therapy after my back surgery where I had to learn to walk again. I had to learn (emotionally and mentally) to walk again after Ryan's death. And I think healing from grief is kind of like my nerves healing - it is unpredictable. I can picture my neurosurgeon telling me that sensation could possibly return in a few weeks, a few years, or not at all. It felt like my joy after grief could parallel that - would joy return in a few weeks, a few years, or not at all? And two years ago I could occasionally "forget" or distract myself from the pain of missing Ryan for just a very brief moment, but only to re-remember my reality with an intensity like losing Ryan all over again. So I did not want to forget or distract myself from that pain because the return of it felt like going back to the raw beginning each and every time. And just as I still prefer the numbness of my left foot over the hypersensations I sometimes get, I preferred the pain of missing Ryan over letting it go and having it return to me again. The waves of emotional pain were strong and intense the first months after Ryan's death. Two years ago the "pain" of missing Ryan physically felt like my heart speeding up, my skin burning with heat, and my body entering its flight-or-fight response, but with no relief. I stayed in that flight-or-fight response for several weeks, unable to eat or sleep. It was such an intense time that my body "remembers" how it responded to saying good-bye and feeling alone. But somehow, in time, I began to get little breaks from that panicked response - little rests of calm in between waves of my heart beating wildly and my skin feeling on fire that I could begin to grasp onto. And at some point those times of calm finally began to outweigh the wild panic. And just as I fought hard to learn to walk again after my back surgery, I fought hard to learn to calm my body again after Ryan's death. By six months out from his death I was able to function day-to-day without the waves of heated skin and beating heart taking over, except when something (a memory, a reminder, a specific event) triggered the response back. By that point the waves were very few and far between and joy had returned in small doses. I was learning to live with joy and sorrow coexisting, and that was how I moved forward.
So now, two years later, having lived in the reality of having joy in my life, while also missing Ryan, but having accepting that as my functioning normal, it was scary and confusing to have a wave of physical response so intense kind of disrupt my normal life last week. PTSD is surprisingly intense. But now that I can see that physical response for what it is - as an unwanted (and irrational) post-traumatic response, I am going to take those waves as reminders, just like I did with my back injury. If a situation triggers my fight-or-flight response again and that wave of beating heart and burning skin shows up again without actual cause, I will remember that that is what I felt two summers ago and I will be thankful that I am not there anymore. Just like when my foot tingles uncontrollably and I acknowledge my back injury, I remember how God healed me. So I will do the same when my heart beats wildly and my skin burns - I remember that that was once my 24/7 reality two summers ago and I will acknowledge with gratitude that it is not my reality anymore. And I will breathe and I will thank God and I let my body calm back down again. I am going to use that PTSD type response as reminder of God's goodness and I am pretty sure over time that acknowledging the response in such a way, reframing it with thankfulness, I will take the power it has over me away and reprogram my body to not respond automatically in that way any longer. I will take the wave as reminder to remember God's goodness and healing in my life - we can all always use reminders in our lives.
"And you shall remember the whole way that the Lord your God has led you these forty years in the wilderness, that he might humble you" (Deut. 8:2)
"I remember the days of old; I meditate on all that you have done; I ponder the word of your hands" (Ps. 143:5)
"Bless the Lord, o my soul, and forget not all his benefits" (Ps. 103:2)
"Remember the days of old; consider the years of many generations" (Deut. 32:7)
"Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous" (Josh 1:9)
Nelson, British Columbia, Canada |
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