Spiraling

I was fine.
Then I was not.

How did I get to this place?

The easy answer is the one I can point to quickly. It diverts the attention of the one inquiring.

“I picked up a piece of ice.”

To most, that answer is sufficient because the focus is on what they can see right now. The right now is what holds importance. It is the crisis. The quintessential “tip of the iceberg.”

For my rescue workers it was ~ how do we get this scared woman whose back was in acute spasm onto a board and into the ambulance?

For the ER staff it was~ How do we get her back home? Until they took the time to really observe me that is, then they quickly changed their minds and admitted me.

For the floor staff it was~ How do we manage the moment? Her basic needs. How do we get her to the restroom when she can’t move? Sit up?

For the doctors in the hospital~ How do we manage her pain?

For the Physical Therapist~ How do I equip her to be able to function at home?

Each of these people played a role in my rescue from this crisis. My “right now.” I am thankful for their kindness and excellence (for the most part) while doing their job. Yet, I became increasingly irritated, like my soul was screaming to be heard, that no one in this 5 day ordeal looked too far past “the piece of ice.”

I knew there was more to it.

All summer I have not felt “right.” I spoke to some people I thought could help, but describing “not right” is nearly impossible. In fact, the day I went to the hospital I really felt “off”. Although I carried on like usual, I was uber aware of my body sending off warning shots. Therefore, I did what I thought best. I texted several people for prayer, went to the chiropractor, took meds, and commenced filling an ice bag.

Then the ice dropped.

I was fine~ then I was not.

When I bent to pick up the ice, electricity shot through my back and down my legs so aggressively you would think I was shot from behind. Wails of pain that can only be likened to childbirth proceeded from my mouth at a volume that I did not know myself capable of attaining. This distressing sound sent my 8 year old into immediate panic, matching my afflicted cries.

Broken, vulnerable, and afraid. I needed rescue. It was obvious. Observable. And the initial rescue was successful. I was able to return home after a few days.

Once home, help poured in. I had round the clock “babysitters,” family and friends that cleaned, cooked, weeded, and hung out. It made my heart smile.

Yet, I still felt broken, vulnerable, and afraid.

Now I am alone. Left with these same feelings, but no distraction. My initial banshee wailing has faded to a wince. But I still fear simple movements like getting out of a shower or a seat. Ice can melt on the floor now, as far as I am concerned. And I continue to cry out for answers. I hate feeling trapped in this moment of healing. I want to get out. Be normal. Drive a car! Take pictures! Sit in a restaurant!

These feelings of entrapment, despite the fact that patience will bring healing, have me spiraling.

Have you ever watched one of those porch decorations that spiral? It looks like it is going both down and up. It really is not going anywhere. Just sent twisting by the winds of the moment.

Initially, I turned to Jesus my first week home. I prayed, watched some great preachers on TV, tried to read (hard to do on painkillers), and even got to counsel and pray with people while lying in bed. Redemption. Then, once I tapered off of most meds, I remembered all the pain that brought me to this moment. The feelings that have plagued me for such a long time. Feeling trapped in a body that seemed to be on the verge of betraying me all the time. I looked inward. I spiralled. I took my eyes off Jesus and the fact that I got rescued (deep meaning there folks) and got lost in my loss.

Isaiah 26:3
You will keep in perfect peace all who trust in you, all whose thoughts are fixed on you!

I have been lost in my loss before. I lost my peace then, I lost my peace now. It is the same tired spiral. Going nowhere. Twisting in the wind. Feelings, not truth, being the wind.

Then…hope came.

He walked through my front door with his first words being “Praise the Lord.” My heart smiled again. My insurance thought they were sending me an in- home Physical Therapist, but they really sent was an answer to prayer. Both he and his assistant looked past the dropped ice and saw years of self imposed “abuse” of my body. Improper lifting, scars from C-section, weak muscles, etc. that paved the way to my discs blowing out. They explained the spasms as my body protecting itself from further damage. But most of all they confidently assured me that if I listen, change my patterns of behavior, look ahead, and be determined, I WILL recover and this will only be a “speed bump” in my life.

I am still frustrated with the place I am in, but I am willing to do the work needed to heal and not return.

I know that I am not alone.

Many reading this blog today are in the varying stages of rescue. Perhaps you are just getting the warning shots that something is amiss. You have tried reaching out, but no one seems to understand. Or, the “ice has dropped” (something quite insignificant) but it has sent you screaming like a banshee. Intense pain. Confused how you got where you are. Maybe, people are in the midst of rescuing you and getting you past this crises. You are thankful for the help, but are fearful to be left alone. Or you are alone. Stuck looking at your loss. Spiraling.

There are no quick fixes for traumatic events. But…

There is hope.

Hope will tell you that you are just going over a speed bump.
Hope will show you healing is happening.
Hope will cause you to seek help, seek answers and seek God.

Hope says, “This too shall pass.”

Psalm 39:7
And so Lord, where do I put my hope? My only hope is in you.

*Surviving a crisis is celebration worthy, but remember it wasn’t the “dropped ice” that got you there. Many wrong decisions, self or imposed abuse, feeling based rather than truth based thinking, misdirected anger, and so much more paved the road to that moment. I implore you to not end your healing time by falling back into the same behaviors that got you to the breaking point. Reach out. Then when given the right tools to pave a new road…use them.