Like turmoil

I'm going to do a bit of channel-surfing in this post.

The title of this post could be interpreted and punctuated in several different ways:

Like turmoil.

Like, turmoil.

Like turmoil?

*Like* turmoil [as in, if turmoil had its own Facebook page]

Like: turmoil

Like turmoil!

Like! Turmoil!

Hmm. I'm getting bored. Let me spell it backwards now: Liomrut ekil

What an awesome war cry! Liomrut ekil!

Now I have something to write on my protest signs! Yes!

Reader, I hope by this point, you're thinking, "What the heck is Tirzah doing, and why is she stirring up so much drama?" The answer is Yep.

"The Lord upholds ALL who fall and lifts up ALL who are bowed down." (Psalm 145:14, dramatic emphasis mine)

Sdlfksjf

Sdlfkjsldkfjsldkfjjjjjjjjjsldkfjsldkjflskdjflskdjflskjdf;laksjdf;lkasjdf;lkasjdf;lkasjdf;lkajsdf;lkj asl;kj;lkajs ;lkj;lkj ;lkj;lkj; ;lkj ;lkj ;lkj

Sorry, Microsoft Word was giving me some tab and margin errors just now, and I had to double-check to make sure everything was OK.

Wait. I didn't accidentally just type out a curse, did I? Yikes! How could something so harmless-looking yet so wordy be so damaging?! And why am I blaming my issue on Microsoft Word??!!??

Tirzah, chill out. You're OK. Focus. You're blogging. Breathe.

Reader, as you know (or as you may have guessed), I am currently undergoing psychotherapy. I feel that it has been very helpful thus far. As I mentioned previously, I am currently reading a book called Attachments as part of my therapy. In it, authors Tim Clinton and Gary Sibcy describe four basic "attachment styles": secure, avoidant, ambivalent, and disorganized/fearful. In a nutshell, "secure" is the healthy attachment style, and the other three are unhealthy attachment styles. Recently while I've been reading through this book, I've identified most with the disorganized/fearful attachment style. That means in the core of my being, I've believed that 1) I'm not loveable or worth getting comfort/support and 2) other people aren't capable of comforting/supporting me in a healthy way. These are lies, of course, and repairing this disorganized/fearful attachment style has taken / will take some time.

People who grow up in abusive homes tend to exhibit this particular style. (That's me.) People who have this attachment style were raised by functional parents. (Functional parents meet their children's physical needs such as food and shelter without meeting their children's emotional needs such as comfort.) People who have this attachment style tend to escape stressful situations through dissociation, i.e., fantasizing, so they likely have many suppressed memories. (Sorry, but when I feel trapped, I gotta escape. Did you know that I have two kitties?) And people who exhibit this particular attachment style are addicted to turmoil, so they have a tendency to create drama where there is none. (I used to pick fights with friends via email, Facebook, or text messages over really dumb things, but I hope I don't do that anymore.)

I think I've gotten a lot better in recent years because God already knew about my issues, and He already started to heal me. And I think He's redeemed some stuff. For example, my quirky way of escaping, e.g., creativity, has given me a very quick wit that has come in handy, in a healthy way, many times.

But now that I've been removed from the turmoil-saturated environment of my childhood, I've discovered a very disturbing state of mind: boredom.

Boredom can be a healthy thing. You can always find something constructive to do when you're bored, and you can always just take advantage of the calmness and take some time to rest. But boredom can also be an unhealthy thing. (I heard one speaker teach at a church once that boredom was basically a form of selfishness, because you supposedly become bored when you fix your eyes on yourself, but I think I disagree with this speaker.) When you're addicted to turmoil, I think your brain can shift to unhealthy thought patterns very quickly when you're bored and need a turmoil-fix. When you're addicted to turmoil, and you're bored, your brain can create its own drama.

I haven't talked about this with my therapist yet, but I suspect this may have something to do with my suicidal/depressed history. I mean, if a little kid grows up being abused, eventually she'll probably learn how to abuse herself, even if it's by entertaining "it's a mistake that I'm alive" thoughts. (I think I mentioned in an older blog post that I used to pour hydrogen peroxide on my fingers when I was in junior high... for no particular reason.)

Of course, God and I have had conversations about this, and He doesn't seem worried. He's excited about me using my obsession for tragedy in my creative/artistic endeavors. And He said, "If you're addicted to turmoil, just read the Bible." I like how He thinks.

"Then he went up from there to Bethel; and as he was going up the road, some youths came from the city and mocked him, and said to him, 'Go up, you baldhead! Go up, you baldhead!' So he turned around and looked at them, and pronounced a curse on them in the name of the Lord. And two female bears came out of the woods and mauled forty-two of the youths." (2 Kings 2:23-24, talking about Elisha)

Whoa! Unnecessary drama! Random turmoil! Tirzah likes it! Wait. Am I supposed to like it? Hmm.

Actually, there's probably a spiritual significance and/or symbolism that goes with this story. I just haven't found it yet. But so far, to me, the moral of the story is "Don't mess with a prophet." (I mean, if a bald guy is walking along and minding his own business, just leave him alone. You don't have to stir up something that will eventually cause your horrific death.)

Time to change the channel. Why? Because I have control of the remote, that's why. Maniacal laughter!

"But He gives more grace. Therefore He says: 'God resists the proud, but gives grace to the humble.' " (James 4:6)

The above verse is talking about pride, which is usually thought of as a "Look at me!" arrogance. But there's also such a thing as inferior pride, which is also called insecurity, which is equally "Look at me!" in its attitude.

Currently, I have one coworker whose behavior I think exemplifies regular pride. Recently, she spent a great deal of time arguing over email about a comma. We follow certain guidelines at my workplace regarding grammar, punctuation, capitalization, etc., and I had pointed out to her that she needed to follow our guidelines and delete a comma. But she was pushing for an exception, and she wouldn't let it go. She finally won. But now I dislike her very much. Seriously, it was just one measly little comma. I, don't, think, the, world, will, end, because, of, one, tiny, little, comma. But dealing with the drama, especially over email, really sucked the life out of me.

I have another coworker whose behavior I think exemplifies inferior pride. Most of the time, she is a nice person, and most everybody likes her. Unfortunately, I don't think my boss likes her. I don't like her anymore, either. Even in her over-niceness, this coworker overly cushions her assertiveness with "In my humble opinion"s and severe hesitations in an almost patronizing way that I think often wastes our time. I usually try to avoid her at the office because her conversations ooze with complaints about deadlines and traffic. Why the drama? Why can't she just say Hello?

Hello, I'm going to change the channel again. Maniacal laughter!

Those of us who have disorganized/fearful attachment styles, according to the book I'm reading for therapy, don't often learn from the past. We often repeat it. If we drown in one abusive environment, we could leave it and end up swimming over to another abusive environment.

Take spiritual abuse, for example. I spent years swimming from one spiritually abusive church to another. One huge teaching that these churches tended to embrace was this: Doing anything other than Kingdom, soul-winning work was an unexciting waste of time. (Yes, doing God's work is awesome; please do it however He leads. Yes, evangelizing is awesome; please go for it however God shows you to do it. But to do it in your own strength, in a competitive way, or in a way that puffs you up with regular pride is just terrible. Trust me. I know.) But recently while I was discovering this new boredom in my brain, I was praying about it, and I was thinking that I should probably be doing spiritual stuff instead of being bored. Then God was like, "Don't use My Kingdom for your entertainment." Yes, Father. No problem. I'll need to get my turmoil/tragedy/trauma fix in a healthy way instead.

Galatians 5 lists all kinds of exciting-looking things like hatred, envy, and outbursts of wrath. This is the kind of stuff that used to be my normal. Galatians 5 also lists all kinds of boring-looking things like love, faithfulness, and self-control. This is the kind of stuff that is normal for Jesus, and He wants it to continue becoming my normal. Long before I discovered that I probably have a disorganized/fearful attachment style, God was already breaking chaos off me, like when I fasted last summer.

Peace has been foreign to me. But it isn't supposed to be. I belong to Jesus. He's the Prince of Peace. He doesn't want me to go hopping from drama to drama like a college student clubbing on a Saturday night. (Or, as Elton John would say, Saturday, Saturday, Saturday. Saturday, Saturday, Saturday. Saturday, Saturday, Saturday night's all right.)

And I don't want that, either.

"But we urge you, brethren, that you increase more and more; that you also aspire to lead a quiet life, to mind your own business, and to work with your own hands, as we commanded you, that you may walk properly toward those who are outside, and that you may lack nothing." (1 Thessalonians 4:10b-12)

It excites me that minding my own business is in the Bible.

I was raised by a very anxious emotional-basketcase of a man who made a big deal out of everything, refused to settle down, threw frequent temper tantrums, was constantly uncomfortable, flowed freely with complaints, and dominated with a constant barrage of arrogant criticisms. He was enabled by the woman who raised me, a micromanaging sloth who wove a tapestry of idle gossip, guile, and dishonesty all enmeshed together with a moral-compromising condescension that wafted a black cloud of fear with a subtle tyranny. When I was a child and when I would visit home as an adult, the house was noisy, I had to fight to get a word in edgewise, and I was constantly bombarded with verbal, spiritual, emotional, and psychological attacks. There was immaturity, unhealthiness, and spiritual pus everywhere. Am I doomed to inherit this myself? Is this my destiny? Will it ever end?

Yes. It ends now.

I have chosen, I still choose, and I will continue to choose life with Jesus. His Holy Spirit will enable me to walk in His fruits and enjoy His abundant life in ways that may seem boring at first but that keep me safe -- far, far away from the unhealthy drama. He doesn't want turmoil/tragedy/trauma for me. He doesn't want abuse. He doesn't want death. He wants life. And I want it, too.

And now I want to change the channel again. Did you know that I have two kitties? Maniacal laughter!

.thgir lla s'thgin yadrutaS