by jphilo | Feb 27, 2012 | Daily Life
During January and February, my days were consumed with research for a new book proposal about post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) in kids. Consequently, I learned just enough about several mental illnesses to endanger my own state of mind. All this new information sent me into a tizzy of worry and self-diagnosis, resulting in the following list:
- The great pleasure I find in the order and symmetry of the picture above is a sure sign of obsessive-compulsive disorder.
- My penchant for list making could be another sign of obsessive-compulsive disorder, or it could be a coping mechanism I employ to hide early onset Alzheimer’s.
- I probably have an eating disorder because one of the marks of an eating disorder is obsessively thinking about food. And I think of food at least three times a day, sometimes more.
- Kids can be traumatized in many ways, and one of them must have happened to me during childhood so I must have PTSD.
- Taking out all the garbage, cleaning the bathrooms, doing the laundry, and emptying the dishwasher before going on vacation points to a yet undiscovered, reverse housecleaning phobia which I hope they name “Philophobia” after me.
- The desire to name a mental illness after myself pretty much proves I have a narcissistic complex.
- All this worrying about having a mental illness points to an anxiety disorder, don’t you think?
Believe me, that list is only the tip of the mental illness iceberg. If everything I’ve self-diagnosed was on that list, you’d think I was crazy. But I’m not.
8. Time to add self-delusion to the list.
by jphilo | Apr 18, 2011 | Daily Life
I’m not very happy with God today.
Several dear friends are hurting deeply,
and they will continue to hurt for a long, long time.
I spent part of today with one of them,
but couldn’t make the hurt go away.
Last night, I spent a long time on the phone with a young mom.
Her infant son and only child is hospitalized, unable to stop retching.
Her heart is broken, her sobs were wrenching,
and I couldn’t make the hurt go away.
Another mom emailed today about her five-year-old daughter who has PTSD.
She wanted advice about what course to take,
where to seek treatment,
how to make her daughter’s hurt go away.
This poor mom thinks I can give her a glimmer of hope.
But how can I help her when I can’t make my friends’ hurts go away?
When I can’t mend a mother’s broken heart?
When I can’t shield a child from pain?
Through it all, the source of my hope remains silent.
His word says he will bring good from what was meant for evil.
His work in my life confirms that promise.
But when will the hurt go away?
I’m not very happy with God today.
Still, I will trust him.
by jphilo | Feb 9, 2011 | Reviews
Without the suggestion from a book club buddy, The Irresistible Henry House probably wouldn’t have found a spot on my personal book list. But now I’m grateful to have read it.
Lisa Grunwald’s book isn’t great literature. But, it is an intriguing novel about a phenomenon that lasted from the 1920s until the 1960s on many college campuses. Orphanages “loaned” babies to home economic departments so young women could gain practical experience caring for infants. The young women would rotate week by week, caring for the child over the course of the year. Then the college would return the toddler to the orphanage for adoption, and a younger infant would be put in place.
Grunwald tells the fictitious tale of one such baby, Henry House. But in the story, instead of returning him to the orphanage, the home economics instructor (a widowed, unbending woman) adopts and raises Henry. He becomes a charming child who can copy any artwork, though he can’t come up with original, creative ideas. He’s irresistible to women, able to manipulate them as he wishes. You can guess where that trait leads him.
The story has it’s Forrest Gump elements, as Henry comes of age in the early 1960s. He becomes an animator, works on Mary Poppins and meets Walt Disney. Then he goes to London and meets the Beatles during his stint as an animator for Yellow Submarine. Sometimes, it felt like Grunwald forced the symbolic elements of the story when she didn’t need to. The premise of the story was intriguing enough.
But, a personal connection kept me reading The Irresistible Henry House: post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). The more I read of Henry, the more his behavior resembled adults who experienced childhood trauma that resulted in PTSD. It made me think about infants who spend weeks and months in neonatal or pediatric intensive care units, being cared for by a constant rotation of nurses.
SInce finishing The Irresistible Henry House, thoughts of those children have consumed me. And I know it’s time to get serious about developing a proposal for a book about PTSD in kids.
So thanks, book club buddy, for putting The Irresistible Henry House on the reading list. And thanks, Lisa Grunwald, for moving the PTSD book proposal to the top of my to do list.
Anybody volunteers to clean my house so I can actually work on it?
by jphilo | Aug 2, 2010 | Daily Life
Almost three years ago, I compared an undignified plop into the tube tied to our friend’s pontoon boat to my first ploppy attempt at blogging. My desire was for a slow, sedate ride in both endeavors. Hence the title of the post: That’s Fast Enough.
Yesterday, I went tubing again. This time the tube was tied to my cousin’s speed boat. The ride was anything but slow and sedate, at least according to my idea of speed. The ride made me think about family events which, in my eyes, have occurred at lighting speed during the three years between tube rides. Here’s the short list:
- Mom is diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. Moves in with my brother’s family in 2007. Her house sells in March of 2008.
- I get contract for A Different Dream for My Child in February of 2008. Deliver manuscript by January 1, 2009 deadline. Discovery House Publishers releases it in September of 2009, and the next several months are dedicated to promoting it – all over Iowa, with trips to Minnesota, California, West Virginia, and Florida thrown in for a change in scenery. I also start second blog, www.DifferentDream.com, a companion website for the book.
- Son leaves monastery and is treated for Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) caused by early childhood invasive medical trauma. Finds old sweetheart, new job and own apartment, in that order. Engaged in July 2009, married April 11, 2010.
- Daughter meets boyfriend in spring of 2009. Engaged in November 2009, married July 11, 2010.
- Discovery House offers me a new contract for Different Dream Parenting on April 12, 2010, one day after son’s wedding, two months and twenty-nine days before daughter’s wedding…proof that God has a sense of humor. Book deadline is April 1, 2011.
Whew! Over the past three years, things have moved way too fast. So far there hasn’t been time to reflect upon them. So I’m hoping the rest of this year will be like me at the end of yesterday’s tube ride. The boat stopped moving, I finally had time to strike a pose, smile, and enjoy my day in the sun.
With that in mind, could the Guy in charge please slow down my wild ride so I can think for a while, then grab a pencil and start writing? In fact, could He stop the boat? For a month or two, that would be plenty fast enough.
by jphilo | Sep 28, 2009 | Daily Life
For the past month I’ve been in denial about the end of summer and the arrival of fall. But today I can deny it no longer. Over the weekend, the leaves went from green to gold. Overnight the air went from warm to chilly, the breeze from soft to harsh.
In years past, my lips nearly tripped over themselves as a litany of weather complaints tumbled from my lips. But on this fall day, they won’t. How can I complain about the weather in light of what God has done?
Last fall at this time, we were moving my mother from her home to my brother’s, worried about her health, watching her retirement savings take a hit, wondering if her house would sell in a recession economy. This fall, her health and happiness are greatly improved, her retirement income is secure, and her house is sold.
Last fall, when Hiram and I went to Minneapolis for the annual Desiring God Conference, our son was a monk, wrestling with unnamed, untreated PTSD, thinking he was going crazy. This past weekend, we went to the conference as usual. But we skipped an afternoon session so we could celebrate our nephew’s birthday with our whole, healthy and definitely not crazy son, his fiance, and several other family members at my sister’s house.
Last fall, much of A Different Dream for My Child was still in my head, and with all the responsibilities accompanying Mom’s situation, I wondered if it would be written before the publisher’s deadline came and went. This fall, it’s published and being used by God to minister to hurting parents.
Last fall, I would have been complaining about the weather on a day like this. But God has shown me how he takes what is hard, what is painful, what seems cruel, what seems wrong, and uses it for good.
So this fall, I watch with hope when the wind blows and the cold comes. I expect great things. Instead of complaining, I whisper a prayer. Bless hurting families on as you’ve blessed us. Show them how to trust you in bad weather and in good. Amen.
