I watched a short clip of Dax Shepard talking to an interviewer about when his friend found his AA Big Book and noticed how many times Dax has tried to quit. His friend saw the mean things Dax wrote out himself when he crossed out a quit date. Dax said to the interviewer:
“It’s demoralizing. Like to truly be powerless over something is…demoralizing.”
Dax Shepard
He nailed it! That’s how it feels when I work so hard at keeping PTSD that I carry from spilling out on other people, and I fail. I mean, I really work hard at it. I do the homework my psychologist gives me. I do my Philippians 4 Project journal almost every day. I go to recovery meetings every week. I hold myself accountable to take appropriate action when I sense that I am starting to get triggered. I refuse to let it catch me by surprise. I work hard to be a safe person for my family and friends.
But sometimes, the PTSD I carry goes towards rage. And I run to be alone so I don’t lash out at anyone. And sometimes my husband doesn’t get what’s happening, so he follows me. And sometimes, yes, I lash out at him. And he doesn’t deserve it. It rarely happens, I feel the need to say. Because as Dax puts it:
“It’s kind of a source of shame for me…”
Dax Shepard
He’s talking about picking up his addiction after quitting. I’m talking about picking up rage after I’ve quit rage. His friend found his AA Big Book and looked at it. His friend saw all his quit dates. His friend’s perspective was positive. He saw how Dax never quit quitting. I have five years of journals sitting in my closet that my kids will inherit someday. Every now and then, I want to throw the first three years away because, as Dax puts it:
“My first thought when he’s telling me the story that he found that book is, ‘I’m embarrassed by that’. Like I’m embarrassed how many times I quit and couldn’t do it.”
Dax Shepard
And ya, me too. I am embarrassed by how many times I’ve recommitted myself to managing PTSD well enough for it to only negatively impact me and couldn’t do it. It is embarrassing to think about my kids reading my tangled emotions and the demoralizing impact PTSD has had on me.
It doesn’t feel good to get out of control. The next day…days…after a PTSD episode are so hard. I feel an unbearable amount of shame for days. I can barely communicate with the people living in my house because of what I feel. I get alone and cry and cry. I silently scream. I rest my forehead on the dining room table and replay what happened. I don’t feel sorry for myself. I feel…demoralized, like a failure, and I feel angry with myself. I feel remorse and have compassion for my husband, who goes through this with me. I doubt myself and all my decisions to take steps toward a life of full-time ministry. How can God use someone “like me”? I plead with God to help me figure it (PTSD) out. I pray for forgiveness. I plead with God to change me. I hope this Bible verse someday means more to me:
But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. ~2 Corinthians 12:9, NIV
It helps me when I see people like Dax Shepard saying what it feels like to battle addiction. It is very similar to battling PTSD. Maybe if I keep writing and speaking, I can help someone feel less alone and less of a failure in their battles.
I don’t ask God to deliver me from PTSD. It keeps me humble, and I need that. But like I said earlier, I do my homework assignments. When I do the homework, I can identify a trigger and follow a process to eliminate that trigger. And that’s a victory. It’s my win. What I hope my kids see if/when they look at my journals someday isn’t that their mom got her act together. I hope they see how hard she fought when her act wasn’t together. I hope they see she leaned on God, and God comforted her. I hope they see when she had setbacks that she owned them and didn’t shift blame to others. I hope they see she asked for forgiveness and always recommitted herself to doing whatever it took to be a safe person for her family and friends. I hope they see as time went on, these setbacks were less and less frequent.
There’s no cure for PTSD. None. However, when we are committed to working on it, we can take back a lot of ground that PTSD steals from us. And that’s my message for veterans, especially those who tried the VA hospital system and gave up. Don’t give up. You can’t give up! We have the mantra to leave no man behind, and if you don’t dig in and work on this…you’re leaving yourself behind. PTSD unchecked harms people besides the one who carries it. So consider other people’s safety a higher priority than your discomfort with talking about PTSD and getting help. But also, those battles that gave you PTSD…battles to take ground from the enemy, well, you can battle now to take ground back from PTSD. Unchecked PTSD is a war, so you’re fighting whether you realize it or not. May as well fight with the intention to take back one hill at a time of what PTSD has taken from you.
I want to thank Dax Shepard for his vulnerability in sharing his experiences with the public: You certainly don’t have to do that. You don’t owe the public your personal life. But, it helps people feel less alone when they learn others have their same struggles, too. So, thank you.
Here’s the link to the video clip I’ve referenced in this post: Dax Shepard on Addiction
The Philippians 4 Project 
Leave a comment