Tomorrow Doesn't Exist

Dr. Paulk:

Yesterday I said to myself: “There is something wrong with me. There really is. I am not normal.” I put on a good face for people. I try to be as normal as possible. I joke. I try to be attentive. I don’t want people to think I am crazy, even if I really am. The fact is, I don’t think I have control over my life. I’m not talking about this in a spiritual sense. I know that God is in control. But I don’t feel that I have control over my actions, thoughts, future, feelings, pains, relationships...etc. It feels that life is just happening around me, but not in me. I don’t know about my life from moment to moment, much less tomorrow. Sometimes I find myself driving and I forget where I am going. At other times I am driving and don’t recognize where I am. It scares me. I have people in my life that I care about and I can’t understand myself. It is 2:30 in the morning as I write this. I am not sleepy and probably won’t sleep a wink. What does it matter? I have nothing important to do tomorrow. Nothing seems important. I feel aimless. Lost. Honestly, I don’t know who to blame for this. God? My dad? My mom? Moebes? Myself? My doctors who have misdiagnosed me for years? And what difference would it make who is to blame? It doesn’t change my life. The way I am. How I feel. Will I ever be well? Will I ever feel better? I’ve learned a lot about myself in the past year. But am I better for it? It feels as if I am in the same place I started from. I’m tired of it all. I am truly tired of it! Positive thoughts and platitudes don’t help at all. I don’t even have a goal to work toward. I can’t see past the moment. Tomorrow doesn’t exist.

Reece

Hi Reece,

I’m glad you emailed me and I am truly sorry that you are discouraged. Discouragement makes it very difficult for us to remember the good things that happened in the light. What you are describing to me sounds very much like dissociation – a significant symptom of PTSD. An excellent goal for us in therapy would be to help you become more aware of dissociation – and Anne may be able to help. Can the two of you come in today instead of tomorrow? I have a 1pm opening if that would work for you.

I disagree wholeheartedly with the complete negativity of your email, but I understand your statements and the veracity of how you feel. Let’s just say you are correct – and that it is never going to get better. We still must work on how you are going to manage this condition. I think we can help you gain a sense of control.

Again, can you come in today at 1pm?

Dr. Paulk

I stepped in it and it didn't smell good!

Then the physical pain started. The synovial fluid in my left knee hardened and somehow pushed my kneecap out of line. I had to have surgery to correct it. I went to the best surgeon in the city. He had operated on NFL players and ballerinas. The surgery went well, or at least I thought it did. Within a few months I began having sharp, stabbing pain at the surgery site. The first surgery was orthopaedic. Now the doctor made a large incision to remove neuromas. After that surgery the pain remained and even got worse. My doctor actually told me that I couldn't be having pain, but he went in again to try to find the problem. He couldn't. A month later I was told that it was nerve pain. So they laid me on the table, stuck a long needle in my knee and told me to let them know when they hit a nerve. I had no problem letting them know when they hit it!

Then they did a cryofreeze of the nerve. The pain remained, worsened and spread. That was in 1995. Today the pain hits me in the knee and my right arm, feet, fingers,and other places. I never know when it will strike. But it does several times a day and especially at night, often bringing tears to my eyes. It is a part of my daily life. A neurologist finally gave me a name for it: RSD, or Regional Sympathetic Pain Syndrome. Today it is often called CRPS, Chronic Regional Pain Syndrome. I call it HELL. I never know when the pain will come. I only know that it will...everyday. Nothing can relieve the pain. Narcotics take the edge off, but that is all. And I don't want to be on narcotics all of my life, but until something better comes along, I'm stuck. There is no cure.

My last 2 years at the Murray Hill were difficult. One of the deacons molested one of the teenagers in the church. The incident took place at his place of business. However, the church was sued, mainly because we had a large insurance policy. I spent my last 2 years dealing with the lawsuit on a daily basis. It was very draining physically, emotionally and spiritually. I remained as pastor until I saw the church through the lawsuit. When it was finally settled, I was burned out and ready to leave. I had done all I could do for the church.

While I was there, we renovated the church plant, purchased properties, and restructured the budget. I gave the church everything I had. I had nothing left in the tank.

I was contacted by 2 churches who were seeking pastors. One was my former employer Mountain Brook Baptist. They wanted to create a new position to bring me back. The position was "Minister". I was to work with JM the Sr. Minister, sharing all duties. The other church was also in Birmingham. Both pulpit committees showed up on the same Sunday. I decided to return to Mountain Brook, although, looking back, I probably should have chosen the other church. One of my problems is that I don't like stepping into unknowns. I knew MBBC. I didn't know much about the other church, although if they were anything like the pulpit committee, they would have been a wonderful church to serve. What decided it for me was when I called a friend and fellow minister who told me that MBBC needed me. But I should have been more cautious because I knew how JM was. He made promises to me that he never intended to keep. Even in the calling process I caught him in several lies. But I really felt that was where God was leading me. I heard the statement once that "Faith is taking a step even when you aren't sure what you were stepping in." From my previous experience with JM I should have realized what I was "stepping in."  I stepped in it and it didn't smell good. My Life would never be the same. Eventually my world would come tumbling down around me.

Tears of a Clown

Life was not supposed to be this way. This is not how I had planned it. Just a few days after my 55th birthday, I find myself at the lowest place I've ever been in. I have no job and no prospects. My marriage is strained. My faith in an all-powerful God is still a reality. My faith in a benevolent God, not so much.

You see since college, my life has been on a positive track. I graduated from college where I was a campus leader in many areas. I paid my own way. I left home in 1976 and never looked back. The sky was the limit.

Since I was a young teenager I had known my calling in life. I knew my life was in the ministry field. I preached my first sermon when I was only 15. The church has always played a vital role in my life and my life's purpose. I had strong mentors, pastors, youth leaders, Sunday School teachers.

I needed their support because I was a victim of child abuse. My father took out a lot of aggression on me while my mom stood (often because of drugs) on the sidelines, well aware of

what I was suffering at the hands of my father. She threatened to leave him once if he didn't stop hitting me. That was the only time she stood up for me. It didn't stop him.

I repressed those memories for most of my adult years. I have enjoyed many successes, but there was always a shadow over me turning the bright colors to gray. I was an expert at hiding my insecurities, especially in my college years and early working years. I was a leader in college, president of several organizations and a resident advisor. I preached on weekends, wrote for the school paper, exercised and taught weight-lifting. Everyone knew who I was.

Now, you need to realize that I can live in both the introverted and extroverted worlds with equal success. Although an introvert at heart, in order to lead and preach regularly, I had to put on my extroverted persona. Often I did this through humor. In order to take the spotlight off myself I made people laugh to get them to focus on some other situation. Smokey Robinson and the Miracles hit "Tears of a Clown," comes to mind when I think of much of my life.

I met the love of my life during my last semester of college. She was a freshman and I was a graduating senior. I couldn't leave her behind. So I waited out a year before going to seminary, and we married during her sophomore year, in December, 1980.

We moved to Wake Forest, NC. I started seminary and Anne finished her degree at Meredith College in Raleigh. Our love got us through many tough times financially, emotionally and other difficulties. I never doubted her love for me. I believe she felt the same. We were so young and it almost felt as if we were playing house, but Anne was wise beyond her years. She knew how to handle finances and I guess I have leaned on her strengths since those early years when we were learning how to face the world together. One thing you need to know about Anne is that she doesn't doubt herself or her decisions, even during those times when she misses the boat completely. My mistake was that I defered to her judgment so often that I made her think that she was the only one competent to make most the decisions. I should have shared the decision-making. This would have helped her and me both. It was just so hard to do that because she often made decisions so quickly and effortlessly that I just kept my mouth shut. If I had spoken up more, it would have lifted the pressure from her. It would have also helped her when we are in times like the present when to accept and be open to the possibility that she could be wrong. I don't blame her, I created the blue-eyed monster, by placing her in the decision-making role, even if that was her natural personality or not.

While I was in seminary, I developed "convergence insufficiency".  At the time it was called "convergence deficiency". Basically my eyes would not converge. I was seeing double. It is also caled diplopia. I had to place books on the floor to read them. If I held the book, my eyes wouldn't converge in order to see one word or page. I went to Duke Medical Center. They gave me eye exercises to help strengthen my eye muscles. The exercises didn't work. Over the past 30 years I have tried many different things, from prism glasses, to eye patches (one little girl at church asked me where my pirate ship was). They also gave me a botox injection in one eye that made it point to the side. The idea was that when the shot wore off, my eyes would be in line. NOPE. Now I can focus my eyes for about 45 minutes in order to read, then my eyes wander and I get headaches.