Observations Into Week Two

Well, there's no way that I cannot talk about our current world situation right now, especially as I'm trying to make sense of things as they are.  Everything else that I've tried to start right now veers back that way.  I have made a few observations:

• When typing the word "tested," it's VERY important that your fingers are accurately placed on home row and that you confirm you have indeed typed a "d" instead of a second "s" in its place.  I've seen that, now, on a couple of different Facebook posts and had a giggling fit for about twenty minutes apiece as a result.  I remember nothing else from either post except that beautiful typo. 
• There are literally so many options of free things to do if you have reliable internet--virtual museums, the Met streaming opera, academic articles are available through JSTOR, other streaming services opening up free trials during this time, celebrities reading books to children, folks livestreaming classes and other content, Picard is available on CBS Live, etc.--that I genuinely feel overwhelmed by it.  I feel bad that I am not adequately taking advantage over all of these things, hitting some serious executive dysfunction until I decide to do what I would normally do for an evening in anyway.  So I feel better for having that brush of normal, but I also feel guilt for not throwing on some Wagner while I could.  
• I think we all have a better appreciation for the work that content creators for YouTube, Twitch, or whatever other streaming service that you frequent do in not only making entertaining/informative content, but also in how well they balance sound and other factors.  Good audio balancing is perfect when you don't even realize its happening.  Good editing is very apparent when you watch a video without it.  I've been more than one meeting where someone could not figure out the mute button or with someone whose setup seems like it must be in an empty auditorium for how much everything echoes.  By the end of this, maybe some folks will be better at conference calls, at least.  
• On that note, it's a good time to suffer through the initial setup of different connection programs with your loved ones, particularly those that are a little less technologically savvy.  Will it be a frustrating hour?  Likely.  But once it's done the first time, it'll be far easier in the future to connect or at least figure out EXACTLY how to word instructions for next time, even if it involves a printed and mailed copy of said instructions (with pictures).  I've found lately that I've spent the first half hour at least of most every group meeting trying to sort out the tech, until we've set the basics for that group--it's okay to take that time and a good idea to start expecting it.  
• There are a LOT of articles and suggestions out there with how to turn your increased time at home (for those it applies to) into an opportunity, such as losing weight, beginning an exercise routine, starting on that passion project you've been putting off, starting on that home improvement project you've been putting off, and others.  For some people, this is a helpful framing for how they can turn a negative into a positive.  For others, this can add some additional pressure into an already stressful situation.  We're collectively caught in a traumatic situation--this is going to hit everyone a little bit differently.  We're all going to cope a little bit differently.  And we need to be gracious toward each other in those spaces.  But, please, first be gracious to yourself.

• On that note, parts of this whole situation are going to catch up with us later.  It's okay to grieve the events we are missing.  It's okay to be upset about missing social ceremonies (commencement and any funerals, for example) and to try to figure out what it means and what we need to do about it.  This requires a level of self-awareness that not everyone is going to have.  There will be a level of creativity that will emerge and might forever shape how we approach some of these in the future.  
• Related:  for those still working at home or otherwise, I think it's really okay to not be as productive as you normally are.  I mean, try, certainly, but give yourself some slack here, too.
• Also related:  where time doesn't make much sense right now, where some folks have lower activity levels and are getting more sleep yet feel more tired, I think for a lot of people that's a trauma symptom that the body is processing.  For those working non-stop (without adequate protection and/or compensation), time similarly doesn't make sense for different reasons.    
• With those levels of grace, I want to state the following very clearly:  even though we understand that everyone is under some different, traumatic stress right now, that does not give anyone the excuse to be an asshole to customer service folks or frankly anyone still working at their place of work.  They are not there to absorb your frustration.  
• We are currently reevaluating many assumptions that we have made in our society.  I've supported a $15 minimum wage for a long time because I reject the idea that persons who work certain positions "deserve" to be poor.  I expect that our essential workers and how folks view them will reflect more strongly in our political cycle.  I also want our medical personnel to be protected and to have support and resources, starting with taking steps to prevent anything like this from happening again.  And don't get me started on how fucked up it is to combine the current failures in our healthcare system (namely the price inflations, for both pharmaceuticals and services as well as how insurance and other parties have blown these far past reason [but not past greed, evidently]) with the lack of paid sick leave:  the short version, this means people that have to work in order to afford their health insurance and any medical needs cannot miss work for sickness or lose their coverage/home/etc. along with their job, which means folks that should stay home simply cannot afford to and will continue to go to work, regardless of how sick they are or whether they're spreading something.  I don't expect this to change overnight, but we will have some places where this resonates in a different way than before.  
• We're also evaluating what is possible with the technology we have, having been forced to look at it a little differently than before.  Creativity is happening.  Solutions and new ideas are forming and being perfected, scaffolding a new normal.  
• Everyone will have their own tips for self care in this time.  It's okay if yours look a little different.  Growing some self-awareness can make this process easier, though, if you're needing a place to start, like starting your day by creating a checklist--cannot meet your needs if you haven't identified what they are.  For me, I've found that I feel best in a day if I have 1) created something (draw, cook, write, whathaveyou), 2) worked toward learning something new, 3) acknowledged my own emotions, and 4) performed some act of self-care, such as going outside, working out, and/or taking a shower.  As an example, I wrote the bulk of this on Sunday, learned a few things about turmeric today, realized I was feeling heightened after I performed a self check-in, and took a shower before allowing myself the grace to be lazy on the couch for a bit and play my new videogame.  All boxes checked.

Keep your chin up, folks.  Thank you for how you are contributing to reducing the spread of this pandemic, clinging to normalcy, and otherwise keeping on as best you can.  I hope you can be gracious to yourself and those around you.  Thinking warm thoughts in your direction today.

Quarentine Entry #1386

COVID-19 is very much the core of the public conscious at the moment.  Lifes are upended at best, to put it succinctly.  We're no exception in that we have our own challenges.  

Andy and I are definitely on the lucky side of things, and immensely grateful to report such.  We've been working from home since Monday afternoon last week and have stocked up as necessary.  Everyone in our home has their own space, so we do manage very well, with a healthy stock of books, board games, movies, house projects, and video games to keep us entertained several times over.  We've been playing DDR when we need some physical activity, too, which has been a few levels of fun.  All in all, we're doing just fine, here--still employed, setting a good example, and weathering the storm quietly at home.

Again, we certainly appreciate how lucky we've been through the whole situation.  That said, there has still been a bit of an adjustment:  I've been having a minor freak-out about staying in the house all day.  Emotionally, I associate staying at home with a different time of my life, when I was either in the hospital or freshly out of the hospital and needing a great deal of care.  I was convalescing home alone for long chunks of time while Andy was at work.  I was on medications that kept me from driving, so any time I got out of the house was when someone was able to take me somewhere.  And even leaving the house, I did not have much by means of energy to be gone long from the house.  

So closer to the end, I was very, very tired of the same four walls.  But also not in a place that I could do anything different.  And this is a particular trigger for depression and anxiety for me.  Hell, my fitness app even has my resting heart rate up a few beats for the last week or so.  Now, even though I've been out of that particular phase of my life for a long while now, this is another case where the body remembers.  What does that mean?  It means that a day and half of relaxing at home is fine; two days of relaxing at home and my brain starts to flip into those darker emotional places.  

Mentally and emotionally, I am staring at the ceiling of my hospital room again with a three or four surgical drains, an open wound, and a fresh ostomy trying to sort out the horror of it all.  I remember the amount of light in the room, the adjacent sounds and smells, all of it.  

There is no immediate danger for me being at home--it is the safer place to be right now--but my body is reacting like it's in serious danger.  Just for not leaving the house for a few days.  Logically, it's best to stay home.  It's the right thing to do for multiple reasons.  But the thing about triggers is that they don't always make logical sense.  Even getting out of the house daily is a bit tricky--we went to Office Depot last week for a quick trip and I felt like I was absorbing the "barely holding it together" energy from the five staff there.  Walking around the house or doing outside chores is a short burst of something, but it has been rainy and otherwise I cannot take too long a break away from my work computer.  There isn't an easy "fix."

So what I've done so far:  

• Denied it was happening in hopes that it wasn't
• Lots of comfort eating
• A bit of exercise
• A collective two bottles of wine for the week

What I'll probably move toward:

• Acknowledging what's happening
• Taking a breath to assess where I'm feeling it in my body
• Checking in with said parts of my body more frequently
• With the gained clarity, hopefully discern what some specific momentary needs are to even be a 10% strategy in the interim
• More exercise

And that's the rub, really.  Acknowledging what's happening in my body, allowing the wave to roll through instead of ignoring it or fighting it, that's what's going to make the most difference.  Taking a moment to be honest with myself and to stop whatever it is I'm doing to do so, well, it takes a certain amount of emotional energy.  I've been hoarding my emotional energy all week.  It's time to direct it toward the problem rather than smothering the symptoms.

Again, I'm fine, in a matter of speaking--this isn't necessarily a call to arms.  I'm a high functioning depressive so I can still socialize, get work done, and look peachy on the surface.  Saying the words aloud (or via blog, whatever) helps me put it together, helps me to start to work through it.  But my emotional resources are thinly stretched for a little while as a result, meaning that I can be of less support to others than I would want to be during this time--my reaching-out-range is minimal at the moment.  

...I could still use reminders to drink water, though.

Melvin & Me, Part 29: So there's a Pandemic and I'm Immunocompromsied...

I have a self-depricating joke that I like to make about myself, when someone worries about me getting sick by getting too close to them:  "oh, don't worry--my immune system is so good it attacks me."  

That's the core of what my Crohn's Disease is, that my immune system is a wee bit overzealous.  And in this very good objective of protecting my body from harm it has collectively destroyed parts of my body, to put it bluntly.  

It's about balance.

Naturally, then, a considerable portion of my treatment plan involves therapies to inhibit my immune system, trying to slow it down enough that it no longer attacks my own cells but still robust enough to fend off any legitimate danger.  I am actively taking medications that inhibit my immune system, some are systemic and some are targeted just to certain areas.  There have been other times where I've been on a couple of systemic immunosuppressing medications at the same time.  This is a balancing act, at best.  Too little and we head back into a flare-up, where Crohn's symptoms roar back violently and dangerously.  Too much and a cold sends me to the hospital when my body cannot fend it off.  And, of course, it's a moving target, meaning that I'm regularly sending bloodwork to my doctor's office in case we need to make any adjustments.  One particular medication that I'm taking needs at least three months in my system to have any therapeutic value--this means, too, that any adjustments we make to it will take time to show results.  

So what does all this mean?  

The short version:  I have a predisposition to come down with some interesting things and potentially recover from them more slowly.  

The long version:  Well, in a normal day, I have a few restrictions on what vaccinations my doctor signs off on for me, that I cannot have any attenuated vaccines--i.e. live, weakened strains of a pathogen as compared to fully dead ones; it's a rather unlikely chance for anything to go wrong for me now, but my levels have been much more volatile at different points of my treatment.  Ergo, we just don't risk it.  I use the joke to help diffuse concern or guilt, but that doesn't mean that I don't take some simple precautions where I can.  I monitor any symptoms and check-ins with my body extensively, bordering on obsession.  I am VERY proactive in my care, including sensical preventative measures and many early bedtimes.  I struggle with the question on when to stay home from work (because comparatively whatever I'm experiencing is probably "not as bad" given that the top of my scale involves ruptured organs), but once I have made the decision to go to the doctor, it's all action.  

Now, let's add in our friend COVID-19:  I'm concerned, but I'm not worried.  I wash my hands like Lady Macbeth, but I continue to live my life.  I'm not going to church right now--in part because I have some people I very much want to hug but don't want to risk being a vector for them either.  Small changes, but not panic.  I've taken microbiology in the past, meaning I know there's a point where I cannot expect supreme victory over microbes, partly because of how helpful they are in our own bodies (e.g. bifidobacterium in your colon, that helps you fixate Vitamin K--no microbe means no absorption of Vitamin K), which is very freeing and daunting at the same time.  It's about balance.  

So, yes, I'm limiting my time in larger groups.  And I'm washing my hands, and limiting touch to my face, and finding that my favorite non-touching greeting is either a smile and deep nod or a smile, nod, and hand-over-my-heart combo.  I decided to work from home when given the chance.  But I'm also relatively relaxed.  I go out when I need to, avoiding any peak times if possible.  I'm still getting work done that I need to and assessing the timeing of "need to" as applicable.  I have a couple flavors of hand sanitizer because I like the different scents and get bored with Purel.  The more people who ask me if I'm okay, the more I start to second guess that calm. 

ONE MORE THING:  There's no way you can know that I have an autoimmune disease to look at me.  I am emphatically not the only one--just a very vocal one.  Even persons in the "safer" age bracket can be susceptable in ways that are not readily obvious.  Related:  we don't know whom anyone is going home to, meaning that while the individual in question may not look or seem vulnerable whomsoever they live with may be.  What we do is for the community as a whole, protecting the least of us in whatever form that means today. 

The takeaway:  I think it's fair to say that everyone is sitting on a lot of uncertainly and a lot of disappointment.  Whether you're sad that your favorite restaurant is closed or your vacation/study abroad plans fell through or you're not sure if you'll have enough work hours to pay your rent/mortgage this month, there's a lot of fear and uncertainty floating around out there.  People can cling to silly things in uncertainty, trying to find safety in a pile of toilet paper.  And others can take a breath, acknowledge the fear, and find ways to support each other.  Are you avoiding being a vector by only sticking to small groups?  Can you call a friend in a nursing home instead of visiting?  Does your elderly neighbor need anything from the grocery store while you're going?  Is your favorite local business selling gift certificates that you can use to put money in their pocket today and use later?  Can you teach your coworker how to use the online tools available to them for videoconferencing?  I'd rather put my energy into these places than worry if I'm going to get sick.  I'm going to get SOME kind of sick eventually--again, freeing but also disturbing.  So it's balance, concern but not worry.  Alert but not anxious.    

And in the meanwhile:  

Apologies

I was needlessly reflecting on something the other day that I wanted to chew on a bit:  I have a few folks in my acquaintance that apologize constantly.  If I'm honest about it, sometimes it annoys me and other times I hardly notice--the key difference for me seems to be what intent I'm reading behind the apology.

Let's break this down into a few different categories of chronic apologizers:

• It's a vocal tic, where they say sorry as part of their speech pattern, rather that to make any actual excuse or remorse--kind of like the call-and-response of the American greeting "how are you?" as far as sincerity.
• Persons who are trying to minimize the impact of whatever they're doing.  This one has two subcategories:
• They have been taught (i.e. trauma) to minimize themselves out of fear of retaliation.
• They're passive aggressively pushing an agenda.
• The real intent of the apology is for you to flood compliments on how wonderful they actually are, where you are supposed to contradict them in a manipulative demand for praise.
• The individual, possibly through trauma or anxiety, has been trained that they cannot take up space and feels a need to apologize for taking up ANY space.

The shift in my brain is where I place the dividing line between passive aggression/manipulation and the trauma element.  I've mentioned a few times over that I don't have a lot of patience for passive aggression, and yet I also recognize in the same breath that the best manipulators don't realize that they're doing it, which makes for some interesting mental gymnastics sometimes.  I have a few folks in mind specifically, too, that I know live with anxiety or trauma to the degree that they need particular reassurance that they are allowed to take up space--my immediate reaction is to fight them on it, to insist repeatedly that they don't need to apologize for voicing a need or their opinion.  Simultaneously, I don't want to hurt these individuals further by my eventual distress in insisting that they can have space (accidently adding guilt), inadvertently stopping them from expressing something they need to express, or otherwise enabling them by providing outside reassurance when they need to grow internal resources and/or self empathy.  In my own small way, I want to give them part of that space back, from whatever is taken from them, but not at the cost of them never learning pieces for themselves.  I'd also be lying if I said there wasn't a point of frustration where I wish that the individual would believe me the first time instead of having to repeat it x times over.  The short of it is that I cannot assume that I know what someone needs or that what they need now is what they'll need every time.  Mostly, that means I've stopped responding to apologies in certain contexts, rather than assume I know the right response.

Everyone has their own apology languages, different ways that they prefer to both apologize and receive apologies.  I want my apologies to carry my intended meaning and not some accidental passive aggression and/or minimize the impact of what I want to say.  Additionally, there are still times when I'm grateful that the social acknowledgement of the situation has happened, though this can be done without an apology.

For example, there is a huge difference in tone between "Sorry I'm late," and "Thank you for your patience."  

1. The former focuses on the individual who performed the wrong, highlighting the flaw in a spotlight for additional, uncomfortable scrutiny that may not be necessary and does not move either party past it
2. The former also can encourage a disingenuous call-and-response kind of reply, "oh, no problem" whether or not there was any real hurt involved because socially you've been trapped and otherwise shut down from much further conversation about it
3. The latter, however, acknowledges the inconvenience of the injured party while also giving them a space to say more if they need to--for me, the acknowledgement in itself is huge
4. The latter expresses gratitude--yes, this can be a little assumptive depending on the degree of the injury, but many of the day-to-day mistakes can be well covered by this
5. There's less chance of the following, getting into that manipulation territory again:

This rephrasing is applicable in so many places:  "I'm sorry I'm talking too much," turns into "thank you for listening," or "thank you for letting me get that all out."  "I'm sorry for being so difficult," to "thank you for honoring my dietary needs."  

Here's a rule of thumb:  if the apology is to protect yourself, consider its root and whether it could be a gratitude statement; if the apology is to genuinely express remorse, word it with intention.

Apologies are necessary--we're going to fuck up from time to time.  However, it's worth looking at our own intentions with our apologies, particularly if they can be rephrased as gratitude.  This is kinder to ourselves--giving ourselves the grace we would give others if the situation were reversed--and acknowledges the injured party in a way that gives them space.  As a side benefit, when I reduce the number of apologies I make in normal situations (i.e. removing the "sorry for the late reply" kinds of statements), I give more credence to my needed apologies.  Andy and I have a policy when it comes to true apologies--we allow the other the space to think about what needs to apologized for.  I could give Andy a half-assed "Sorry your feelings got hurt" in the moment OR I could give him a sincere "I'm sorry I worded that in such a clumsy, hurtful way and made it worse by snapping at you," returning to it a half-hour later.  That makes a huge difference when we need it, in what we learned from it as well as significantly decreasing the total resentment quotient.  

Yes, I made up the phrase "total resentment quotient."  We're not perfect at solving all concerns without carrying over any additional frustration, but I would say that knowing how to fight is an important couple skill, particularly when we can decrease the carryover between ourselves in particular.  But more on that another time.

Melvin & Me, Part 28: Crohn's 103, the Long Haul

Here's the hardest thing about having a chronic condition:  it's CHRONIC.

There is no end.  There is remission, hopefully, but it's never actually over.  Even when I haven't posted something explicitly about my ostomy or Crohn's in MONTHS, it's still here.  Still a thing.  Still always on the backburner of my mind.  Still part of every decision I make.  Still part of my very real panic as I hear politicians arguing about healthcare policy and knowing that I could easily be a month away from complete disaster both financially and whether I'm even alive at the end of the year (Medicare for ALL is the way forward, folks).

This is important for a number of reasons.

• Mentally, even when things are going well, I'm preparing for things to take a sudden turn for the worse.  It's tough to balance that, to be prepared and mindful of signs without hypervigilance, to the point of obsession.
• I understand that for some baggage it isn't a matter of getting rid of it, but rather life is about finding better ways to carry it.  I will always need to find ways to balance the mental load of dealing with a lifetime of balancing my doctors' appointments, bloodwork, new medications, procedures, ostomy supplies, and all else.  That's a process, and it takes a lot of emotional energy to sort it out.  For the rest of my life.
• With aforementioned baggage, there are good days and bad days--I have to constantly re-accept my circumstances.  I still need to take time for a pity puddle on occasion and give myself the freedom to honor those feelings when they occur.  I don't always communicate these waves well, and have a real propensity to smile over them.
• There are times in my life where I have and will continue to need to put parts of my life down for a moment in order to take care of myself.  That hurts in different ways, needing to say no to things, culminating into a very real fear of missing out.
• My body's needs are different from day to day--sometimes, I have the energy to conquer anything and others I'm running a bit low, without a pattern.  These levels are significantly more consistent than they used to be, but I know this won't always be the case.  
• My internal pain scale is a bit skewed--this means that I don't always seek help when I need it because even urgent things aren't as bad as, say, a ruptured organ.  As such, there are some times that I could be in what someone would think of as significant pain and not really register it the same way or shrug it off to my eventual detriment.  
• Some people cannot shake the "fragile" vision of me, seemingly always assuming that I need help and/or will need constant tending.  Instead of asking me what I can do, it's implied that I have to approach all things tentatively or am incapable.
• Some people forget that just because I'm not "acting sick" doesn't mean I can do everything.  Instead of asking what I can do, it's implied that I should be perfectly fine to do something without modification or acknowledgement of my energy level.  

Those last two are important, and there is a delicate balance there between feeling like I'm being treated like an invalid and between feeling that my needs are not taken into account.  And resolving the frustration can be as simple as a quick addition of "if you're up for it" or some other kind of out.  I can take the out if I need to or quickly reevaluate my energy levels and re-calibrate accordingly for the latter.  Specifically, I would also want it to be an honest check-in and not a nicely veiled demand--a question that you cannot say no to isn't really a question.  A small acknowledgment can make a world of difference.

Truly, it's the assumption or the demand that bothers me most.  I don't need my body's needs to be the focal point of all decisions, but it's nice to know that it is considered.  Any time someone assumes that they know how I feel, that rankles me sixteen ways til Sunday.  Assuming that I won't have enough umph to do something has just triggered that stubborn streak, too, where even if it's a bad idea I'm inclined to do it out of spite.  Assuming that I'm going to be just fine may be more commonly correct at this point, but I can feel a little trapped without that out--making it a choice instead of an expectation increases my joy of the event.

This is a marathon, not a sprint.  There will be good days and bad days.  It's always a part of my thinking; it's always a part of my life.  To understand me is to also acknowledge those pieces, but to find a balance to similarly not obsess about them.

And we've got as much time to practice as my life lasts.

Addendum on "Packing a Wound"

I'll be honest--the last couple of blog posts have been two that felt very important to me.  Inevitably, with the sheer volume of content that I have created, some weeks are going to be stronger than others or resonate with me differently.  The last two have been that specific kind of writing flow, where the words pour out and I am only an empty at the end--content, but empty.  This is not to say that I don't go back and spot-check for grammar, typos, and borked analogies, but those are the ones that clearly need to be told, rather than forcing myself to meet a particular deadline this week because reasons.  There is an ebb and flow to this, where some weeks the words are here before I open the page and other times where each phrase is an agony to put together and sometimes still when I simply don't have the words to think through the urgency of what I want to say and end up with six disjointed bullet points and no sense to make of them.  There is a small graveyard of the latter, along with blog posts that I had started but missed their relevant time window or something in life resolved and they were no longer needed.

In other words, as they have meant so much to me and I'm waiting on words to refill those empty spaces.  I have six or seven ideas on my post-it list of what I could write about today, but none of the urgency I enjoyed in the last two.

In OTHER other words, I'm not going to force this one today.  AND I'm going to give myself the grace to do that.

I do have one thing to leave you with regarding the post from two weeks ago, hence the title of this post.

There was something significant that was left out in my wound packing/emotional-bottling analogy.  Did you catch it?

In order to pack a wound properly, yes, debridement, cleansing, and gentle care are all necessary, but packing seems like it should also be part of packing a wound.  If you simply close up the space, infection roars into place in no time, possibly worse than before.  Packing the space lowers the possibility and the physical space that opportunistic bacteria could take up residence in these vulnerable places.  

In the explanation of the medical components, I mentioned sterile gauze and/or gauze soaked in some kind of antimicrobial.  So when we take that to the emotional side, if theoretically you have cleaned out the abscess created by repeatedly swallowed needs and hurts, what are we packing the emotional wound with?

I don't have a panacea for this one.  In my case, self-compassion is part of that packing.  Asking for empathy is part of it, too, to help me fill those spaces when I'm feeling vulnerable and cannot fill the space on my own--I'm getting better at this one in pieces, trying to find the grace to allow myself to take up more space in certain areas and learn to not only identify this need but to express it directly.  Given that a lot of my grief and anger is anchored to negative feelings in my body, my therapist suggested that I take a moment to focus on what my body feels like in a positive situation, pack the space with the sensations or a particular memory.  This mimics some meditative techniques I've worked with before, such as imagining liquid sunlight being poured into your head and slowly filling your body from the toes up.  In both cases, rather than leaving only the purulent gauze in the wound, I'm giving some fresh, clean feelings into the open space.  This will get better with practice, but the visuals tend to help me.

Packing the wound well and with salubrious material reduces the severity of the cleaning out part of wound tending.  What works best for you to pack the wound may not be what works best for me, and it may take some trial and error to find what your needs are in that space, but some careful consideration and planning will help you heal better and thoroughly.  Chances are decent that there are people in your life that are willing to help--most likely they don't know how, without some kind of clear direction.  What I've learned in asking for empathy is that there will be people that will say no, but there will be people that also say yes.

Why I don't Talk Much about God

I had someone I trust ask me a question recently:  they asked me bluntly why I don't talk about God in my blog posts. 

It's a good question, in fact one I've had before.  And there isn't an easy answer.  I haven't avoided the subject entirely--there are a few odds and ends here (such as this one and this one)--but it is not something that I tend to talk about other than a casual mention or the direct subject of a blog post.  I simply don't include references to God in my normal writing.  I definitely had to chew on the question for a while to try to find a way to explain a number of feelings that I have that I understand but don't necessarily have words for.  In short, perfect blog fodder for me to explore and find the right words by experimentation with a blank page. 

So as a starting point, I would say that the kind of Christianity I agree with stands firmly with the main tenant of love your neighbor--I want to emphatically say that my belief structure is not the same as the "American Evangelical Christian God," including elements of the prosperity gospel and/or pretty much any of the poster children for Christianity that actively excludes anyone by their gender, sexuality, race, creed, or different religion.  I don't think that anyone is saved by doing the right collection of good deeds or being born into the right situation. In short, Christianity has a PR problem partly because there are some bad examples propping those perceptions up--I don't judge Islam by ISIS; I wouldn't want someone judging Christianity by the Westboro Baptist Church.  

The God I know does not encourage me to hate anyone and encourages me to be love recklessly and be supported in turn.  I'm a fan of the brown, radical, welcoming-all-persons, upsetting the status quo, chase-the-money-lenders-out-of-the temple, compassion to the scourges of society, kind of Jesus.  So why don't I talk about it?  Clearly there's at least a bit of a chip on my shoulder for what is "right" Christianity and its interpretation.  With all of my medical history that I've put up in this blog and where I find myself now, surely I have a lot of thanking and scripture to throw down as part of it somewhere, right? But it's not as easy as that.  

I've started to narrow the thoughts into a few major ideas:

• I have a number of people in my acquaintance that have been hurt by the church.  And "the church" I mean both the church as an entity and the church as persons proclaiming to be godly.  I know people who have been told that they were going to hell or cast out by those that claim to love them.  These are the people who profess love and compassion?  The ones actively screaming at women walking into Planned Parenthood, knowing absolutely nothing about their lives or what kind of healthcare they're there to receive?  The ones actively lobbying to ensure that transgender people have less rights under the law?  The people asserting that they hate the sin but love the sinner, backhandedly condemning someone with a veneer of kindness?  The hurt and betrayal runs deep--these were supposed to be people that we could trust, that we grew up with, that media and social perception says you're safe with, but even in my experience I know that church politics can be the nastiest politics there are.  It is a trauma trigger for a lot of people, truly.  Yes, it's my blog and I have exercised the right to say what I would like to in this space, but I also don't want to intentionally exclude people, including a number of folks that are incredibly important to me, whatever their religious beliefs might be.  I'm not insensitive to how widespread and deep this hurt goes.
• The kind of theology I subscribe to follows the idea of "Preach faith; if necessary, use words."  I see God in people and love the goodness in them as well as the ways that they are broken and sharing compassion anyway.  I have grown a lot of compassion through my experiences that I can then extend to other people needing that particular warmth in the moment, to demonstrate love and kindness that I have experienced.  That extension of myself is God working through me, in my estimation of things--I don't feel a need to call it that when it's obvious to me.  I also don't want to cheapen the very real feeling and intent I have by implying something like "well, God told me to do it" because I'm not an automaton.  I've got a lot of free will in how I express compassion and choose to express it:  not because I'll be punished if I don't, but instead out of a genuine love.
• Evangelizing is not my spiritual gift.  That's not to say that I couldn't develop it, but I'm more geared toward hospitality, responding to people with real warmth.  I can tell anyone my experience with God if they would like to hear about it, but I do not presume that anyone wants to hear my opinion about it nor that anyone who doesn't believe the way I do is inherently wrong and in need of "fixing."  
• I have a general distaste in some of the methods how God and Jesus are actively talked about in a few societal contexts.  This one has multiple parts. 
  
  --Let's start with scripture quoting.  Quoting scripture has been used to support terrible moments in history, including the Holocaust and slavery.  Taking pieces out of context can be misleading at best.  I would tell my Sunday School classes, holding up a Bible in one hand, that if they were using this to hurt people, they were using it wrong.  And otherwise, I will remind you that the devil can quote scripture, too (Matthew 4: 5-7; Luke 4: 9-11).  I'm interested in both the exegesis of scripture as well as the overall context of the Bible, checking to ensure that it matches with the overall message of the time period as well as the Bible overall before I accept it as evidence.  Additionally, I accept that I am reading a translation (possibly of a paraphrase of another translation), meaning that I'm not going to get hung up on a single word out of context or otherwise consider the specific passage outside of the context of all else.  For example, when folks are hung up on "day" as in "the world was created in seven days" I have a few specific points.  Firstly, God rested on the seventh day, so it would be six not seven.  Secondly, how do we measure a day?  By the sun and the moon?  Which weren't created until the fourth day?  No, this word could also be translated as "age" which makes much more sense given the poetical context of the beginning of Genesis.  But, yes, I'm sure that the translation that has been translated and retranslated again is the literal interpretation that I should assume is literally correct (~sarcasm flag).  Allowing metaphor into different parts of the Bible gives us a huge degree of depth and richness that it would be a shame to miss out on.  More importantly, I don't think that God wants blind faith but instead a thoughtful pursuit of growth.  Scripture can be helpful to understand facets, however, it is not the clincher for any argument without its context.
  
  --Second point--I loathe the implication that has been made in certain places that if you simply believe enough that your mental health problems or financial problems will disappear.  I feel that God can work through things, like your therapist and an antidepressant medication, but the idea that "well, the reason that you're suffering is because you don't have enough faith" is a huge disservice and piles guilt onto the rest of that hypothetical problem.  I've also heard "well, God must be punishing you" in this camp to and I have MANY thoughts about how messed up that is.
  
  --Third point--I'm not a fan myself of a conversation that is a regular conversation that now has to be about theology against my will.  There's no consent asked, just assumptions.  And that lack of consent rubs me the wrong way.  As such, I'm not intending to make every conversation about God by forcing the issue into every pause.  God's plan is good and all, but I might just by trying to vent about my day for a moment, thanks.  I don't need to focus on cosmic relevance when I'm remarking on my frustration in how the grocery store layout changed.  Similarly, there is an assumption made that everyone has the same context in the conversation, that clearly everyone grew up in mainstream Christianity and must know exactly what you're talking about, which can then exclude people--Jesus then becomes a tool to "other" people rather than bring them in.  I find myself annoyed in conversations that were not otherwise consented to talk about theology to metaphorically beat me over the head, peppering in Jesus and God at every opportunity.  I'm not offended by God being part of the conversation--speak your truth, please--but there is a point of saturation somewhere, six platitudes or so in.
  
  --Fourth point--when every conversation is so peppered with references back to God, well, great, now a precedent is set that every single thing has to come back to that.  I will never put a fish or Jesus bumper sticker on my car because I simply don't always drive like a Christian, accidentally or on purpose.  For example, I will spitefully block someone from entering in the lane that blew past everyone else and the closed lane signs for miles--sure, allowing people to suffer their own consequences is an act of love in the right circumstances, but that is definitely not my motivation in blocking that other driver in that moment.  My own struggles with faith are for those that I share them with, not for opening [a likely imaginary] general judgement, thanks.  I give myself enough grief to hold myself accountable without that outside pressure.
  
  --Fifth point--there is a part of how God is talked about that rubs me the wrong way that is vastly unempathetic or used in place of empathy.  What I mean is the kind of verbiage that tends to get used, the Hallmark kind of God statements, are often used to stand in the place of actual responsibility or empathy.  Let's take "I'll pray for you."  Praying is a good thing to do--and sometimes the best that you can do in many ways--but I've seen it used as a cop-out far too often.  As a more extreme example, we talk about our thoughts and prayers to the victims of gun violence, but what are we actually doing to help them now or prevent more in the future?  Faith without works is dead.  Platitudes, even ones that invoke God, are similarly pretty useless without action.  Our thoughts and prayers are with a lot of things, but are our actions?  Some of these phrases seem to translate into: "God's got it so I don't have to do anything."  There's a balance in how much we take on in trying to help, but using God to not do something that we clearly can/should help on is not okay.  Compassion is movement.  
  I have also seen far too many God-phrases that shut down the conversation in regards to empathy, where someone going through a tough time is told that God has a handle on it, as though that is the conversation clincher, entirely shutting down their need to express their feelings and any empathy they might have received--it reads as "I'm uncomfortable talking about this," and invalidates the person experiencing that hardship.  Way too many of these platitudes shut down the person's voice in the conversation, under the guise of being helpful, souring the experiences that the speaker was trying to relate.  Chief among these in my life has been "God has a plan," but that one has its own blog here.  The intent is good in, I daresay, most cases, but the impact is not matching with that, meaning we need to address this. In short, any God platitude that could end with something like "so stop crying" is a hard pass.  I do not want God to be used as an excuse for us to not help each other and look for ways to help each other or even just listen to someone with real compassion.  
• On my part, I think of some this also comes down to humility.  I don't want to insist that anything greater than my feeble attempts are at work, because I know that this world is chaos and terrible things that don't make sense can happen just as easily as miraculous, wonderful things.  I can feel where God might be working in me, but I cannot presume that I know what you might be feeling in a moment.  I think God can certainly use me, but I don't necessarily trust to be proficient at weeding out all the other voices all the time.

It is tragic that some of the loudest voices that claim to be Christian do not embody the teachings of Jesus and thus others are tainted by their hypocrisy by proxy.  (Hyproxy?)  I see good sayings and ideas twisted by the prosperity gospel.  I see well-meaning people hurt the people they are trying to help by saying something tone-deaf to their pain.  Disagreements on the piety of our gay brothers and sisters is potentially splitting our church. 

And from there, I'm left with several disjointed feelings that don't seem to fit anywhere else, so here there are in a disjointed blob:  I don't think that I have to be vocally Jesus-y to have an impact in others.  I want to be a force for good not because a voice in the sky is going to punish me if I don't, but because it is right.  I have known atheists far kinder and gracious than someone I've gone to church with for years, genuinely loving folks that don't have any special eternal reward for loving you but choose to do it anyway--I want to model the compassion of an atheist.  I want to be a breathing expression of the love I understand and want to share it.  There are humans involved in the modern expression of Christianity--this means we're bound to get a few things wrong that we will continue to work toward rectifying in the future.  I want be a force for inclusion and compassion where possible, but I also want to make bigotry a lonely hobby, which is an odd balancing act at best.  


There are teachings and feelings that I recognize and appreciate in Christianity that have shaped my understanding of what is right, especially in broadening my view of whom I should be helping, that I need to practice seeing those that are most vulnerable and working toward their benefit.  Simultaneously, I won't force someone to interpret it a specific way.  So rather than force it in my speech, I prefer to make myself a more subversive force for good, to extend love and compassion but more importantly to genuinely feel those things and not be kind out of obligation.  We can talk about dolling out the right amount of credit and naming facets of it as the other party is also comfortable with.

Or the short version of things:

• I've seen how forcing verbal "God" into every conversation, action, and movement has attached inaccurate impressions of God to terrible/inaccurate associations and therefore enforcing these ideas to persons both inside and outside, validating bigotry for example
  
• I am wary of adding any negative interpretations with my own flawed experiences and failures, and I especially do not want trigger anyone's previous trauma
• I want to love people in a way where it's obvious that I genuinely mean it, passing that love on not because I'm obligated to but because I want to share it
• I won't assume that I have consent to turn all conversations into a theology debate
• I have a real disdain of the kind of God verbiage that is used in place of compassion and/or actual aid, voices that speak love but don't practice it