As 2024 comes to a close, I feel grateful for all the Lord has done for me. I look back on my closing thoughts from this blog in 2022 and recognize the person typing—I recall being her, even—but feel like that version of me is so far removed from where the Lord has grown me to today.
Recently, someone close to me found this page. I could tell he wanted to ask around some of the weightier the trials which often find their way into the meat of the written posts here. Over the last 3 years I have struggled with depression, PTSD, anxiety, a hostile work environment, and more. I have been consistent with my psychiatrist. I have been persistent with my lifestyle choices that keep the blues away. I recognize I have not been living life to the fullest, though.
One of the things I have been learning in my current journey of growth and recovery is that there are phases to each. I wrote about this previously, specifically exploring the cost, pain, and beauty that comes from the careful refining of our lives and hearts by the Lord. What I did not really examine or speak to was the more general, high-level picture of some of the phases of recovery surrounding trauma.
Numerous professionals around the globe have generally formulated an agreed-upon set of distinct phases of the psychological processing mindset a person might go through post-trauma. I've renamed them here and given an abstract overview to try and shield not only the nature of my experience but also to help others better relate:
The Immediate Bargaining - emotions are either inappropriate and loudly broadcast or nonexistent; disbelief and shock disrupt executive functioning and the reality of the trauma is not cemented in the brain.
The Outward Over-Correction - after the dysfunction within immediate bargaining, a person might try to carry on by ignoring the incident, suppressing it, over-analyzing it, fleeing from the circumstances, or obsessively discussing it. Others are brought in or impacted by the decision to start reacting.
Finally, the Progression - through processing (either independently with time or through therapy), a person can accept the trauma as part of their lived experience but is no longer defined by it. Symptoms of PTSD can taper out; a person might try to "reclaim" parts of the trauma by sharing and creating spaces for future sufferers to help make sense of their own traumas.
I feel I can confidently say that, even though my life—and the years following--were dramatically marked by the trauma I experienced, I feel I have thoroughly moved into the final stage of my processing. Some things might remain unsorted, but that will require a major change in circumstances outside of my purview to discovery. And yet, some things might never be restored this side of heaven.
I was not a perfect victim of the trauma I endured. I also have no interest in being a perpetual victim. I hate that I have to even use those words now. Victimization becomes a shelter to avoid living. It becomes a guard from both good and bad things. In the early phases of processing, understanding that you're a victim is humiliating, relieving, and terrifying all at once. In the same way cancer patients hate being reduced to "cancer patient" or "cancer survivor" (yes, I know I just identified the group there as a whole - I'm referring to individuals in personal moments) someone experiencing PTSD has a likely shame-inducing or complexly intimate qualifier they'd like to keep to themselves purely out of the desire to not become a forever-label (does that make sense? Am I even writing real words anymore?).
Thankfully, I do not have to be perfect. Neither does the perpetrator. Neither do the naysayers nor the people who compound shame and embarrassment. All have sinned and all fall short of the glory of God.
I recall in my Catholic school's morality class sin was introduced as a concept of a wrong-doing that was explicitly relational. That is, sins hurt your relation with someone (mostly here on earth, but always impacting your relationship with the Lord): infidelity hurts your spouse, stealing hurts the owner, lying hurts the trust of the person being lied to, etc.. I don't fully agree with this relatively reductive expression, but I find myself returning to this concept when I evaluate my own actions and the impact they have on other people.
We do not need the reminder written in Romans 3:10, "there is no one righteous, not even one," when we consider the cycle of hurt, broken people hurting and breaking other people. But lately, the thing I have been wrestling with most is wanting justice.
I have struggled with righteous and unrighteous anger over the last few months. After much prayer, patience, and preparing for interviews, I finally was offered an exciting role on a new team within my company. Knowing I would be free from vindictive, petty, and insecure leadership looking to tear down anyone they perceived did not praise the ground they walked on (hyperbole, but really... it was pretty bad) provided me with much relief.
The afternoon on my last day, after having my year-end review with my manager, I submitted an overdue complaint for discrimination on the team by my managers. I should not elaborate here for reasons related to confidentiality and privacy, but felt like I finally had the safety net to take a step up and out in protection of future employees and on behalf of a slew of other mistreated employees.
When I finally had the energy to prepare to make a case, I thought I'd look through some documentation and pull a few key things together. I ultimately pulled 38 pages of chats, screenshots, written summaries, and data to refute baseless claims against me. What I dreaded for fear of dragging me back into the victim-mentality wound up being cathartic and relieving. I was able to easily find so much supportive evidence of the truth I knew at one point and forgot I had experience due to (sorry for the buzzword) DARVO tactics and gaslighting.
In all of this, as I move forward from two distinctly different and two equally wrong scenarios, though, I struggle with justice and grace. We know that justice is the Lord's (as is vengeance, but I don't want that, truly). We know that there is but one Judge to rule over all that has ever been and all that will ever be - "he who is able to save and to destroy," (James 4:12). So where does this leave us Christians, journeying on this wayward earth?
How are we to seek justice while being a beacon of graceful love for all to see? How can I demonstrate the endless forgiveness of Christ, to whom I am to be an ambassador, without being taken advantage of by others? Indecision is not permissible, nor is it beneficial. "We must work the works of him who sent me while it is day; the night cometh, when no one can work." (John 9:4).
I have often recommended Cloud and Townsend's Boundaries book series to friends and family, but in doing so have lent my copy out enough times to fail to read it beyond the first chapter myself a handful of times. However, the introduction does such a spectacular job of identifying where the modern descriptor of a gracious, generous, and loving Christian becomes a poor reflection of Christ when she fails to instantiate and protect boundaries.
I need not be either a perfect or perpetual victim.
The Lord will "completely restore" me in His time (Mark 3:5). For now, though, I am grateful he has brought me through the trials of the first two phases of processing and into His comfort and provision of a peaceful rest. After much tilling of the soil of my heart, after extensive pruning, and through His endless patience I feel as though I am entering into a blossoming season of my life.
As I write maybe my final post for 2024 (which was another bleak year in terms of generated content), I reflect on my 2024 list:
Get a bob
Get a new job
Start run training with Ruby
Get into working out 3x a week habitually
Apply for membership at my church
Read James, Romans, and Hebrews (note: I read through much of James but did not yet complete this - I'll prioritize Romans between here and the end of the year though)
Be a good friend - 1x call per week
Be a present friend 1x hangout per month
Start dating again (finally!)
Renew my passport
Fix ~the messy corner~ of my bedroom
Photograph something ~1x/month
Paint 1x/quarter
Write something every day
I look back on this list and I can proudly say the Lord helped me accomplish all but 4 - and 1 of those I give myself a pass on as I was creative and producing a sort of art at least once a quarter, it just wasn't necessarily painting. I 3D printed some ornaments, painted some ornaments. I recycled candle glass with loose scent ends. I helped photograph family and friends Christmas cards. I drew artwork for friends' wedding invitations. I got into sourdough bread, and I'm not too bad at it!
The Lord is good; He provides more than we need and His gifts are more than we can comprehend or appreciate.
Next, onto figuring out my list of things to achieve for 2025...
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