This question was asked during church this week… “What motivates you?” I was able to sit through about 10 minutes of discussion before JR started fussing. He was loud enough that I needed to leave so that he didn’t bother the rest of the class. So I sat with him in the hall and thought about that singular question… what is my motivation?
Searching for Motivation
The first answer that came to mind to me is “I have no motivation.” I didn’t share this with the class, but kept it to myself. I do find it very hard much of the time to find motivation to do anything. I’m in a depressed mood much of the time.
Even when I have the desire to get up and do something, quite often the chronic pain is there to change my mind. I want to get up and be outside doing things, but knowing they are going to hurt while doing them AND continue hurting long after I’ve stopped makes it extremely difficult to do much at all.
Fear of pain
But that means that I am motivated to stay docile because of fear of pain. Having many times experienced headaches so bad that they leave me vomiting or blacked out, I find pain avoidance to be highly motivating.
Now, because I know that continuing to gain weight will also cause more pain, I do find motivation to do what I can. Even 8 years after being medically discharged I am still trying to find the threshold between activity and pain. The same fear of pain that sucks motivation from me, also makes me want to get up and do what I can so that I don’t get worse. It is a balancing act that I often feel I am failing at.
Love of family
Love for my family is the one thing that consistently overcome my fear of pain. I will do what NEEDS to be done for them even if I know it will be painful. Right now this is happening with getting my parents house cleaned out. We NEED a permanent place to live. Every day I wake up stiff, sore, and nauseated from pain. But the clock is ticking toward start of the next school year, so I get up and get moving.
Before this though there were many days when I probably would have stayed in bed all day. Or if I did get up, I wouldn’t go anywhere as I hate being in public. If it weren’t that Julie hates this and it makes her feel bad, then I’d never leave the house.
But making Julie happy and wanting to see the kids is enough to get me out of bed and dressed. It’s really been the only thing getting me to church for years. Don’t misunderstand, I love my church. I have a deep and abiding faith in Christ. But the pain and PTSD would be enough to keep me from attending except that Julie wants me there with the family. So I go, for love of the family.
Other motivation?
I don’t know if I can come up with another one. I don’t do much pleasure seeking, I don’t care about money, I’d rather not be famous. While at Fort Huachuca I lost the will to live, and am only still here today because of my love for Julie and the kids. There are occasionally things I would like to do, but they all largely go unfulfilled for reasons previously discussed. And even when I do something that I “want to do” it is largely unsatisfying.
I have good moments of laughter and love, but am largely unmotivated toward anything in particular. My decision making paradigm can basically be boiled down to pain avoidance and love of family.
I’d love to hear… what motivates you?
Andrew circa 2015 with our Great Pyrenees puppy ‘Chief’
Julie and I are very happy to announce that we have made some plans for our future. There is still a lot of info we don’t have, and so nothing long-term is settled, but we’ve decided we’ll expect the worse, use it as a starting point, and plan from there. At this point though, even being able to make one decision about the future seems like an extraordinary event. So I apologize in advance if this announcement seems small to you… it isn’t to us!
This Summer
After my parents complete their celebration of their 50th wedding anniversary in May, a major remodel of their home will begin. The purpose of this remodel will be to make the necessary improvements and repairs for our family of 10 to move in sometime before next school year begins (late Aug or Sept?).
You read that right, Julie and I will be moving into my parents home in Utah and are planning on living there indefinitely. This will give us plenty of time to figure out where we are in the other aspects of our lives. The hardest part about this is going to be telling all of our friends back in MO that we aren’t coming back. We’ve longingly looked forward to going back there from the moment we landed here.
Mental health care
The biggest reason for staying here in the SLC area instead of heading back to the farm is so that I can continue receiving the VA care here that I just wasn’t getting back in MO or AR. If I’m going to ever complete my journey for mental wellness I need to get some professional help. I’ve been getting that here. And seeing what I have available here, compared to what I was receiving, makes it clear that what I was getting, wasn’t nearly what I needed.
I know that with PTSD and other mental health issues that there isn’t a “cure” – no person has told me I can be cured – but that they can help me to overcome the symptoms and to live a more normal and less stress-filled life. So we’ll stay here until we think that I’ve reached a level of success that we are comfortable with.
We anticipate this will be a matter of years. There is no test to determine when this is “done.” It’s something we can’t put a date on for completion; maybe it’ll be decades. Going through the Canines With A Cause course is anticipated to take about 2 years to complete, so it would be at least that long, and probably much longer. We’ll stay as long as it takes.
Finances
Our financial situation was another important aspect of this decision. Due to the huge financial blow that losing the house was, we aren’t in a position to rebuild on the farm right now anyway. Even if the insurance reverses course and covers us though, we still have made the mental health treatments our first priority, and would just hold those funds until we are ready to go back.
We just don’t have the funds to cover both a rental here AND to cover the mortgage. The house in MO doesn’t exist, but we are still paying for it. Our only income is my VA disability. There is just no way to live on that VA income if we have to pay for rent and a mortgage. There’s not enough left over to live on. I’ve covered that in this post. Moving in with my parents eliminates that need for rent. Really, from a financial aspect, this is our only option. Thankfully it is one we can live with.
2-5 Year Plan
This is where it gets harder to discern the future. We don’t know when/if I’ll ever be better, so making plans is difficult. Caitlin and Joshua will graduate high school here if we stay that long. JR will be old enough for Kindergarten in that time. If we’re here that long though Julie will finally be able to pick fruit off of a tree she’s planted! That would be nice!
We’ve planted 40+ fruit trees and never picked a piece of fruit!
I would still like to plan on moving us to a sail boat at some point. Those plans are obviously hard to make though. Maybe that’ll be in the 10 year range for planning?? I started following about 4 blogs from people who have done it though. I’ll continue to read those and keep dreaming and making plans. I’ll also keep updating this blog, if for no other reason than to document our activities for our kids.
Somewhere along the line either I’ll get well enough to find work, or Julie will need to. VA income alone will never be enough to rebuild with (or purchase a boat). No matter what we do we are certain it will involve a good amount of juggling and compromise.
Additional Benefits
My parents are thrilled with the idea of us moving in. They’ve been asking us to do it for years. One of the main reasons they like the idea is that they like to travel. They would often spend months at a time with us in MO or AR. Eventually they would have to leave though because something needed to be done at the house. With us living there, they can now travel and not worry about how the house is fairing. They will travel when they want and come home to see the grandkids when they want. They make it sound like they will basically turn the house over to us and will come visit occasionally.
Moving in with them also gives us access to their 2.5 acres. That is enough land for us to have another milk cow. We won’t ship Lady across the country, but will find a mini-jersey here for us. We can also garden and plant fruit trees (again). I think we can have chickens too. All of these will help with the financial burden we are expecting. The farm-style life we love is still accessible.
I can also pursue the service dog that I was hoping to get from Canines With A Cause. We think that will be a big asset in my path to mental wellness. And since our plans begin with my becoming well, we’re looking forward to that.
And of course I couldn’t give a list of benefits without mentioning being close to family. We’ll obviously be close to my parents. But additionally, almost all of our family still lives along the Wasatch Front. My only sibling lives here, and all but one of Julie’s does too. We might be able to make it to a family reunion for the first time in quite a while 🙂
The Take Away
Our plans are malleable. We could beat them into any shape we choose. We aren’t thrilled that this is basically our only viable option (but we are thrilled that our only option happens to be a good one). Returning to our uber-supportive friends in MO would be awesome, but because of the care I’m receiving here, it just seems foolish to leave when receiving that treatment is our first priority.
I’m not going to give up on sailing, and Julie will not give up on the farm. As soon as we feel like I am closer to being … normal (we can’t say “cured”) … we will think about making plans to move on. If we happen to have enough funds available to think about life aboard a boat, then perhaps we’ll make it happen. If not, then the farm might beckon as well.
So stay tuned… hopefully a whole world of adventure still lies ahead!
It’s an interesting thing about experiences that they don’t necessarily have any connection to real events. Your experience might be a fantasy.
Think of the person who has a near-death experience. They aren’t transported in any way, but they see/hear/smell things that aren’t really there. But that person REALLY experiences those things. The experience is real.
Or for another example, think about cases of mistaken identity of a deceased person. If a person had died in an automobile accident and the authorities called you to tell you it was your relative, you would have an emotional reaction. Even if your relative came home as scheduled shortly thereafter and the mistake was corrected, your experience was real. Your emotions were real. You experienced the pain of losing a love one and the experience was real.
What I’m saying is that what you experience may not in any way reflect reality. You might feel perfectly safe but may really be in imminent peril. You might feel like you are in danger yet really are perfectly safe and secure. What you are experiencing might be a complete fantasy – a fantastic experience!
Why on Earth am I thinking about this?
I hope you never have the dilemma I’ve been going through. I’ve spent a great deal of time lately trying to trying to remember past experiences and trying to determine if they were real. As part of my journey toward mental wellness, I’m trying to figure this out. It seems to me that knowing what is real and what isn’t is important in normal human functioning.
Because of anxiety attacks, emotional breakdowns, and frequent nightmares that linger when awake, I have had a host of experiences that I know never happened, a whole host of them that I’m fairly certain have been tainted, and only a few that I “KNOW” happened exactly as I remember them.
Some examples I know didn’t happen
I’m obviously alive, but I couldn’t count how many times I’ve experienced dying. I know those memories aren’t of real things, but like mentioned at the beginning, the experiences were real.
I’ve been killed by being shot, crushed (inside a car), drowned, beheaded and more. These experiences come almost exclusively from nightmares. Sometimes I wake at the moment of death, other times it is suspended (time stops and I am frozen at that moment or just before), other times I’m instantly onto another experience.
During one repeated dream I’ve won the lottery and I’ve decided to use it to pay off all the debts for people in Melbourne, AR. So I’ve set up a table in front of Miller’s Supermarket and there is a line of people from town. As they show me the paperwork for their debts Julie pulls out a stack of cash and I hand it over.
One particular person (same guy every time) isn’t happy about something and/or just wants the cash we are handing out, and without saying a word when he is next in line, he simply pulls a pistol from his coat and shoots me in the head. I never wake from this, but instead am just frozen at the moment of the gunshot. I never feel the bullet, but am stuck asleep feeling the terror of knowing that I’m about to die, knowing that Julie will be shot next, feeling helpless to protect her/others, thinking about the kids, etc.
The event has never happened, but that terror that I’ve felt is very real. And the effects that the terror have on my life are real too.
Examples I’m less sure about
I wish everything were as easy as knowing that I’ve never died. That one is obvious. I’ve also never played the lottery, let alone win it.
But what about less obvious memories? I have one dream that started a few years ago about an experience from my missionary work in Argentina. The dream takes place in a very poor area and not a particularly safe one. As is culturally acceptable, one hot day we asked at one house if we could have some water and they let us in.
The three men inside were as unclean as the house. Heavy blankets covered the house and the darkness seemed oppressive. I felt very uncomfortable being there, but my companion tried to share a gospel message. This didn’t last long before becoming contentious. Feeling very insecure, I notice one man had positioned himself in front of the door.
Stopping my companion mid-sentence, I grabbed him by the arm and stand both of us up saying, “thanks for your time.” Pulling my companion I turn and move to leave. The man at the door stands and grins like he knows something we don’t. All I said was, “you will move!” At the moment he shifted to look behind me for support I opened the door and slipped us out the door, still dragging my slightly confused/annoyed companion behind me.
Every time I have this dream I’m filled with ominous feelings. What I’m not sure about is how much of this really happened. I know the companion and I really visited that house and were admitted for water. I’m not sure at all if my memories of what happened in there are real though. It’s possible that what I’ve described was real, perhaps it happened as I remember it. Or maybe my memories have been altered by my constant nightmares. Because I’ve repeatedly experienced it this way I can no longer recall it happening any other way. Is my brain recalling real moments, or is it tainting my memory and making them terror-filled?
Things I know are real
Well, I know I’m alive (as much as any person can I suppose). I know Julie loves me. Basic facts like my name and who my kids are seem pretty obvious too. I know I used to be healthy, mentally and physically.
I wish the list here could be longer. Because the nightmares and waking anxiety are so pervasive though, I have started to pay attention to whether any memory I have is real or not.
I’m sure if boiled down, that I’d find that 90% or more of what I remember is “real.” But how do I know which 90% it is? I can’t even group large items together (like my mission) and say, “I know all of those are real” because there might be some of them in there like the one I mentioned above. Experiences I’ve had (especially the traumatic ones), conversations I’ve been a part of, places I’ve gone, things I’ve done, things I’ve seen… all of them are under self-examination.
And do I do about events when I have two or more sets of memories about what “really” happened? What a mess!
What any of this means…
You’re guess is as good as mine about what I’m talking about. I think I started out planning on talking about how I’ve had some terrible experiences that were completely fantastic and unreal (thus the title). Somehow that morphed into how those experiences have made it hard to distinguish between what I’ve really done, and what I’ve only imagined. So I guess this post, like a few of my “experiences”, has very little meaning. I’m sure someone, somewhere has a better way of explaining what I’m getting at.
IF I’m exploring “what is real” and IF I were smart,maybe I wouldn’t have written any of it and instead just showed a clip… it would have spared you all from reading my gibberish.
So, if any of you are willing to talk about the issues you might have (TBI, PTSD, etc), I’d love to hear about how you deal with this type of memory trust issue. Please share your experiences below, or share via social media to your other friends who might feel the same way.
I have some bad news. I know that this will come as some surprise to you. It certainly caught me off guard. Sit down if you must, but brace yourself. Here we go…
IT TURNS OUT I’M FAT!
I don’t know how it happened, but it did. I’m sorry for springing it on you like that. I could swear I went to bed last night at a trim 205, but when I awoke this morning I was a bit more than that. Well, more than a bit. Some. Okay, lots. Fine, like a LOT more.
I tip the scales at just under 310 right now. People tell me all the time I don’t look like I weigh that much, but I do. My large frame hides the pounds well I guess. But it takes the same effort (and pain) to move this much weight around whether I look 300-plus pounds or not. “Not looking” 300 pounds doesn’t help my joints feel better.
I’m not sure where the line is drawn for “morbidly obese” but I imagine I’m probably getting pretty close to it. If I want to be around to see kids get married or to play with grandkids then I probably ought to do something about my weight. And I should do it soon.
The Weight Problem(s)
The issue with my weight gain is that I am experiencing a high level of pain most of the time. Right around 205 is where my weight was when I was in the Army and healthy. Since my back pain started in 2008 my weight has steadily climbed to where it is today. The pain causes vastly reduced activity levels.
Adding to the issue is that I get depressed about the chronic pain and the thought that it’ll likely never go away. Also, I have PTSD from some events while serving in the Army. Stress is a common source of weight gain. Over eating is a common tactic to distract from the pain/stress/anxiety that I’m feeling.
The Weight Solution(s)
I wish I had an easy solution. The two things most people mention when they talk about losing weight is diet and exercise. Exercise is possible, but almost always comes with an increase in pain level. When just walking to the mailbox is sometimes crippling, how do I set an exercise routine or schedule?
And diet? I could change what I eat, but in moments of mental distress I know that I’ll cheat. Getting rid of the negative thoughts or emotions will probably always take precedence over the calorie count. I know it sounds stupid (even to me) but eating is a distraction from life’s problems.
The Weight Resolutions
So… what do I do? If I can’t commit to exercising regularly due to back pain and headaches, and can’t commit to “dieting” due to moments of mental distress, what options are left to me?
Just letting myself continue to balloon doesn’t seem like a good option. I’ve made new commitments to getting myself the treatment I need for mental wellness, wouldn’t it be a shame to expose myself to a whole host of new physical ones?
So at this point all I’ve been able to make a resolution about is to get healthier by losing weight. The method of doing that is still open for discussion. As always, encouragement and ideas are welcome. Also feel free to share this if you think you know someone who could offer good advice.
For comedic relief,
This is what I feel like each Sunday getting dressed for church!
I believe in angels, both the seen and unseen. The immortal ones, and the average, everyday, human kind of angel.
I was at a church event this week (New Beginnings) with my daughter, Caitlin. It was kind of a recognition ceremony that doubled to encourage the girls to live by the values they profess.
When talking of doing “good works” one of the presenters there shared the story of the High School valedictorian who gave a speech where he told the story of how he had cleaned out his locker and was planning on committing suicide that weekend… only someone noticed him as he was on his way home and they spent the weekend (and high school years) together. (Here’s a link to the story of Kyle).
Well it got me to remembering the Angel that saved my life, Ryan Neilsen, while I was at Fort Huachuca. I had a hard time at Fort Huachuca do to the unfortunate presence of just a couple of soldiers there who found particular delight in my misery, but it was the presence there of Nielsen that helped me survive the place.
I had filed several informal charges* against one particular guy who was the main problem. Despite this though the cadre provided no relief and he didn’t restrain himself at all, in fact he was encouraged by the lack of action by the NCO’s. So things got worse for me. Thankfully there was a friend in the unit who was a strength at a time I was weak.
After one particularly bad week of harassment and abuse I had decided to just give up. I was done. I couldn’t handle the stress of the current situation and had started to believe it would never get better. I had broken down and was sobbing and slightly hysterical. I stumbled over to the Chaplain’s office to try to reach out for help from him, but it was locked and he was gone.
I probably spent 10 minutes just sitting outside the locked doors sobbing and thinking of ways to make the pain/suffering stop. After a while I was able to stop shaking enough to pull my phone from my pocket and called Nielsen**. I don’t know that he could understand a thing I said and I tried to talk to him. He knew I was in bad shape though and asked where I was. Thankfully he was nearby, close enough that in just a few moments I saw him sprinting his way toward me.
It was a sight I’m sure I’ll never forget, seeing him running toward me to save me from the darkness I was enveloped in. He talked to me, calmed me, and helped me find additional care. He was an angel of comfort doing the Lord’s work. Because of that day, and others like it, Ryan quite literally saved my life. My family was the reason I chose to kept living, but Nielsen was the one who help me make that choice.
That man has my undying gratitude and will forever, eternally, have my respect and love. I don’t know if he even remember this incident, but I hope that he knows that if he ever needs me, I will likewise come running to his aid.
In a world full of ugliness, terrorists, hatred, and pain, it is easy to believe that those things are the only things to find in the world. But you can find some way to be an angel. Find some way to encourage those around you. Try to SEE those around you who are hurting, are afraid, are alone, or are ready to give up. It might only take a moment of kindness to save a life. It only took a moment to save Kyle’s, and it only took a moment to save mine.
* I did end up filing formal charges.
** I could have called Julie, but she seemed too far away. Plus I wanted to shield her from the pain I was feeling.
