Courage

Courage is not the lack of fear, but the ability to act in the face of it.

"Do you realize how many fighter pilots shit in their pants while in the midst of a dog fight?"  I don't know if this comment was meant to be taken figuratively, or literally, but I've remembered it.  The point was very clear, though.  Its not that  there isn't a lot to be afraid of, or that fighter pilots are so brave as to never experience fear.  The point is that they have the courage to do their job in spite of their fears.

Living with bipolar disorder means living with the fear that another depressed or manic episode is right around the corner.  Its hard not to evaluate every option that life presents from the standpoint of whether or not that choice would produce a depressed or manic episode, and what the consequences would be if I experienced an episode.  Fear.

As I've written about before, I have three major possibilities looming in the future.  First, the appeals process for my disability claim goes on at a snail's pace.  At some point, there will be a determination of whether I qualify for continued benefits, or not.  If I qualify, there would be a financial safety net in place, and a restoration of my health benefits, the most important of which would be that I'd get mental health coverage again.  The negative side to this is that winning the appeal would also be an admission of my own inabilities.  A positive judgment regarding the appeal, is a negative assessment of my health status.  Yup, still crazy.

The second major issue is that I've begun the process of seeking re-reinstatement to the roles of active ordained ministers.  Related to the first issue, I am voluntarily submitting to an independent psychological evaluation to determine if this is possible and advisable.  If the outcome of this is positive it would render the whole appeal of the denial of disability benefits moot.  If negative, it would add evidence to the appeals process.  However, the primary motivation is that I do feel called to return in some capacity to ordained ministry and a positive assessment by the Synod's psychiatrist would make that possible.

And finally, a client of mine believes that he has a realistic possibility of selling fifteen or so of my dining sets to clients in Vietnam.  That would be nearly a half million dollar commission for me, a real once in a lifetime opportunity for a woodworker.  Of course, expanding my business to accommodate such an order comes with all sorts of risks.

Fear.  Each of this possibilities brings with it plenty of fear.

I experienced the deepest depression of my life while on disability.  To a certain extent that was why I was on disability, but there is also the fact that being considered disabled, and unable to work, is a very depressing place to find one's self.  Were it to be determined that I remain disabled, will the  depression return?  I don't anticipate elation as being my response to such a determination.

Secondly, what would the impact of returning to ministry be?  My biggest fear all along has been that I would either not be able  to function because the depression returned, or that I might experience a manic episode which could result in all sorts of undesirable behaviors.  Fear.

And thirdly, a half million dollar commission sounds, well, like a golden opportunity.  Unless of course, one considers that high risk and ill advised business decisions are a major symptom of mania. Add to that the fact that it would involve some major investments in equipment, taking on some employees, and leasing shop space-- all of which could fall under the category of reckless spending sprees (another symptom of mania) and there is much to fear.

The thing I realize is that there is no risk free option.  Though I have the hope that my medications and treatment for the bipolar disorder has resulted in a significant stabilization of my moods, one can never know for sure until the "stress test" has been applied.  I won't know how I will respond to any of these possibilities until I attempt them.

A major part of my personal piety is the belief that God only provides opportunities for us that we are capable of handling.  Were I to be called back into the ordained ministry of the Church, I believe that God would give me the opportunity to succeed.  Likewise with the business opportunity.  And if I return to disabled status and have the disability benefits restored, then there is a part of me that would simply believe that this is a gift from God, a response to a very real need in my life.

But to see in each of those options the hand of God at work, and to pursue the opportunities that actually present themselves, requires courage.  The risks are real.  The fear is real.

But sometimes that is simply the way life is.

For my part, the thing I have resolved to do, more than anything else, is to consult with trusted friends and advisers.   I have promised my doctors that I will continue in  therapy so that they can help monitor my moods.

And in the end, I hope to muster up the courage to do what is right.  Surrendering to fear is not an option I would choose.

My "Burning Bush"

We have a Japanese Maple outside of our front door, right in front of where I sit on the porch.  I love that tree.  It's beautiful, well shaped, and has been thriving since we planted it.

I have often sat there on the porch, next to the tree, and thought about what God had in store for my life.  And I've often longed for a burning bush experience.  It would be easier to follow Jesus is he'd share more openly where we are going.  Sometimes I imagine that maple as my burning bush.  Its vibrant red leaves help.

This last winter I was deeply disappointed to discover that either the snow, or a moose, had caused a major split in the fork of one of the main branches.  Losing those two branches would have destroyed the shape of the tree, and eliminated about 1/3 of the foliage.  Desperate times require desperate measures.

Armed with my power screw driver, and a two and a half in screw, I decided to play the role of tree doctor.  Without the consent of my wife, who probably would not have agreed to my methods, I 'fixed' the tree.  The branches were bent up to their original position and the split was held together by the screw.  And then there was nothing to do but to sit back and wait for spring, to see what would come of my beloved tree.

The wound has apparently healed.  There were no dead branches.  The foliage is more beautiful than ever.  And perhaps, in that, my burning bush had a message for me.

Whether it is wishful thinking on my part, or the conclusion of thoughtful and thorough discernment, more and more I've come to the conviction that it is time to move forward with my life. I'm exploring the possibility of serving as a pastor again.  There are business opportunities as well that may come to fruition.  Still waiting for my "tree" to spell that out for me.  A little hint like "Pastor Dave" or "OlsonsWoodWorks" would help.  Or perhaps both.

What I am inspired by my tree to believe, is that beauty is possible even when a major injury, a wound, has occurred.  Healing happens.  It may take a well placed screw to hold everything together, but healing can and does happen.

What do I hope for?  Perhaps more than anything else, I hope to rediscover a meaning and purpose to my life.  Like the tree which remained dormant for a few months after my repairing it, I have spent time where my primary focus has been on my own healing.  Now, it is as though the buds are on the branches, and springtime is here, and the only question remaining is to what extent the healing has been completed.  Will the leaves unfold?  Or will there be entire branches that need to be cut off?

What do I hope for?  If I could chart my own course, I think it would look like this:  That I could combine my love for ministry with my passion for woodworking and do both.  Perhaps a part-time call combined with continued work in my shop.  A tent maker ministry.

That seems best to me.  But my 'burning bush' has not yet spoken to that.  What I do believe is that when the time is right, the opportunities will present themselves.  And I will sit on my front porch, in front of that burning bush, perhaps even removing my shoes, and celebrate.

Bipolar or Not, that is the question.

There are two strains of thought in the mental health profession.  As with many other conditions as well, some doctors are quick to diagnose bipolar, some are hesitant.  My psychologist is one who is hesitant to make that diagnosis.  Or to put it differently, he has to personally witness a significant manic or hypo-manic state to confirm the diagnosis.  He has no problem with the depression side of my diagnosis, as he has seen that a plenty.  One of the reasons he has not seen the manic side of my personality is that the last time I was in one, I backed away from counseling because I was doing so 'well'.  That was the time I resigned my call, established my business, cashed in a significant portion of my pensions, bought a CNC router, enlisted my son to join me in the business, and in doing so exhibited by my own count, 5 of the 7 defining symptoms of a manic phase of bipolar disorder.

Both my current, and previous psychiatrist fall into the camp of being willing to make the bipolar diagnosis more freely.  One of the signs that they use is the degree to which depression responds to anti-depressants.  Turns out that normal depressions most often respond well to anti-depressant therapy, while bipolar depressions do not.  Bipolar depression, on the other hand, responds to mood stabilizers, not anti-depressants.

The psychologist that is reviewing my case for disability falls into the camp of being very hesitant to offer the bipolar diagnosis.  That may affect the outcome of my appeal, only time will tell.

I have a backwards attitude toward the diagnosis.  Rather than confirming the diagnosis, and then prescribing treatment, we tried a different approach.  Treating the depression 'as depression' wasn't working, and so I asked my doctor if my recurring bouts with depression could actually be bipolar.  She agreed that was possible.  I was currently taking Lamictal to control the seizures I was having.  It is an anti-seizure medication that is also a mood stabilizer used to treat bipolar disorder.  What was decided was to increase the dosage to a therapeutic level for bipolar disorder and see what happened.  Turns out that was the one thing that improved my situation.  In essence, we prescribed the treatment, and then, based on its success determined that the diagnosis was correct.

In contrast to some of the opinions to the contrary, I am personally convinced of the correctness of my diagnosis.  One of my reasons for being even more convinced than any of my medical team is that I am deeply aware of my inner thought patterns.  These go way beyond what is actually manifested in specific behaviors.

So, for example, when I set out to develop Luther Park and the Beacon at Southridge, there were the actual behaviors, and also the underlying scheme and grandiose thinking that went far beyond.  I was successful in the first case, Luther Park is an 87 unit senior housing ministry that is doing fine.  I failed to pull off developing the Beacon (a 225 unit senior housing community) in part because of the economy, but also in part because it proved to be beyond the scope of what was possible.  What was lost in the process was that in my vision, these two projects were just the first two steps of a major plan that would totally transform the church, not only in this country, but also with an international impact as well.  The vision that I had was so ambitious, that I didn't share it with others.  It would be better, to reveal it one step at a time.  No one would buy in, if they saw the whole deal. . .

The bottom line is that left untreated my  mood swings are way beyond the norm, and have been getting progressively worse.  With treatment, they have  moderated and would be, by most observers, be seen as within the parameters of what is normal.

One of my great-uncle's favorite jokes was about a man who was out in his yard spreading salt on his lawn.  His neighbor sees what he is doing, and asks him why in the world he would do that as it will kill the lawn.  "To keep the elephants away."  was the response.  "There aren't any elephants here!" his neighbor replied.  And the man said simply --  "It figures."

I'm being treated with Lamictal to keep the bipolar symptoms away.  "But you don't have any symptoms of mania!"  "It figures."

A Crossroad

"What other people think about you is none of your business."

AA is full of pearls of wisdom.  This is one of them.  Except I don't always agree.  What other people think about you, about me, can have a significant impact on the direction of one's life.  Opportunities are sometimes contingent on other's opinions of one's capabilities and character.  There is no getting around that.

I'm at a crossroad in my life.  I'm faced with three choices that will determine the direction of my life.  But each of those three choices will only be an option based on the assessment of other people.  I am not in charge of my own destiny.

"Lets consider three options: First, that you win the appeal for disability benefits and qualify for continuation of coverage;  second, that its determined that you can return to pastoral ministry and have that opportunity;  and third, that this business opportunity (selling 15 dining sets to clients in Vietnam, as written about in my last blog) comes through.  Which would you choose?"  (My psychologist asked me this, yesterday.)

Its not an easy choice.  If I win the appeal for disability benefits, it will be because it is determined that I am simply not capable of continuing to do what at one point was second nature to me.  "I...just....can't.....do.......it...........anymore." are words that are hard to say.  I reflect on those days when I couldn't even find the motivation to shower, when depression would chain me to the couch, or when mania would drive me forward on numerous different schemes and plans.  My psychologist had me read the letter that documented his conversation with the doctor hired by the disability plan to evaluate my claim.  "Disheveled", really?  The overall assessment was convincing to me, and a bit depressing.  But a bit of the fighter in me came out.  "I can do anything I set me mind too, I'm in a much better place than I was, you're not giving me enough credit, I have 'no cognitive nor physical impairment'.  "I disagree." was his response, particularly with respect to how depression affects my cognitive functioning.  Ouch!

And then we talked about the business opportunity.  15 dining sets, at a price of $55,000 per set.  $825,000 gross.  But major challenges such as expanding my business to include numerous employees, getting the financial backing, figuring out how to safely ship hardwood furniture from the relatively dry inland Northwest, to the high humidity of Vietnam without the whole works self destructing because of the humidity change.  Etc., Etc,.  "I'm very concerned that accepting this job would result in a manic episode."  "Actually, I'd be more capable of pulling it off if I was in a manic state!"  Interesting conversation.

I shared with him the possibility of serving as an interim pastor in a small congregation.  He was much more comfortable with that, than my embarking on a bold new business adventure.  His biggest concern about my re-entering parish ministry has to do with potentially high stress situations.  Caring for a relatively small congregation, without the possibility of taking on challenges like building senior housing, etc., he thought was "safe", and far preferable to the risk of falling into an 'ill advised business endeavor'.  Especially if I continue in treatment and am monitored with respect to my moods.

Sometimes we control our own destiny.  Most of the time we do not.

The appeal of the disability claim will be settled by someone else.  Perhaps even the judicial system.

Whether I can move forward with the business opportunity depends on numerous decisions by other people, not the least of which are the clients, but also others like bankers, landlords, employees, . . . not to mention my wife and family.  Huge risks involved.

My bishop, an independent psychologist's evaluation, and a congregation's call.  Decisions will have to be made with respect to my returning to parish ministry, and most of them will be made by others.

And then there is the opportunity that none of these materialize.   That somewhere there is a fourth option.  Or maybe, my current status IS the fourth option.

The single greatest casualty of this disease is my own ability to discern and decide.  While I may or may not be disabled, I have certainly become more dependent on others.  Ironically, the recognition of these limitations and being willing to defer to the judgement of others may in fact be the single most significant indication that some degree of health and well being has returned.

Vietnam

I build things.  I love to get the creative juices flowing.  And when everything is said and done, I feel a great sense of satisfaction.

Last year I created this table and chairs for a client in Southern California.  I'm very proud of it, and the client was very pleased with it.  My client has many business contacts in Vietnam and recently returned from a two month visit.  He had the opportunity while there to do some sales pitches for my work.  He identified 15 potential customers who were interested in buying a dining set like this, for a cool $55,000 a set.  Run the math on that and no matter how you add it up it amounts to a whole lot of money (and work).  And there are a lot of logistics to work out.  Its not a done deal by any means.

Mania alert.  Mania alert.  Mania alert.

Actually, I would be much more capable of embracing this challenge if I was in a manic phase.  But then, there are those defined symptoms of this disease, a few of which are:

•          Tendency to show poor judgment, such as impulsively deciding to quit a job
• ·      Inflated self-esteem or grandiosity -- unrealistic beliefs in one's ability, intelligence, and powers; may be delusional
• ·      Reckless behaviors (such as lavish spending sprees, impulsive sexual indiscretions, abuse of alcohol or drugs, or ill-advised business decisions).

  So, lets see, having the bold confidence to quit my current job, greatly expand my business, and pursue this business opportunity, believing in my own abilities to carry it off, may be a good response to a golden opportunity that came knocking at the door.  Or, it may be a manifestation of a manic episode.  I only wish that such opportunities came with a set of flashing lights:  green for GO!  red for STOP!  and yellow for proceed with caution.

Add to this mix the fact that, as I've recently written, I am considering returning to parish ministry in some form or another.  

"Dear God,

If its not too much to ask, a burning bush experience would help at this point in time.

Thanks,

Dave"

Some thoughts:

1.     I have not thrown caution to the wind in this situation.  I realize that any decision relative to such a huge business endeavor must involve some very serious safeguards to be in place.

2.     Nothing ventured, nothing gained.  Whether I consider an opportunity to re-engage in parish ministry, or to pursue this business endeavor, there will by necessity be some risks involved.  And those risks would be there even if I was absolutely normal.  

3.     It is reasonable that someone with my talents should pursue those opportunities where my gifts are utilized.  To do so is not a symptom of a manic episode.

4.     The one thing that I do lack, because of this disease, is the confidence in my own judgement.  

5.     I am still seeking to resolve my disability claim.  A huge question is whether being bipolar continues to adversely impact my ability to work.  Both of these opportunities may be a baptism by fire that test that question.  

To be faced with such decisions is one of the things that is most difficult to handle because of this disease.  There is a risk of poor judgement.  "$55,000" may inflate my self-esteem and grandiosity.  And pursuing a business endeavor of this magnitude may be ill-advised.  

Of course, it may also be that all of my hard work and creativity is finally paying off, and I should simply do the logical thing and capitalize on the opportunity.

One thing I'm thankful for is that 4 years ago I would have made this decision with a Scotch double or two or three in hand.  Whatever the decision will be, at least it will be sober.