Fragility

'Twas a simple question, really.  It should have been no big deal.

My brother is preparing the appeal of my denial of disability benefits.  He needed some simple facts, such as, "What was your salary when you became disabled?"

I would speculate that a 'normal' person would respond to that question by taking a couple of minutes, looking up the information, and sending it off.  Done.

However, for me, it simply ruined my day.  The instant I saw the note with the request that was being made I went over the cliff.  I had been feeling quite good.  My wife had observed that when we went out to dinner with the kids the night before it seemed that I was doing better than I had in a long time.  "How much did you make?"  And then the spiral down began.

To get the information was one of the most labored tasks I've undertaken in a long time.  I had to go through some files to put my hands on the documentation.  And with every page I turned, a negative memory was brought to mind and I spiraled deeper into depression.  I would complete a small step of the process and have to go out for a smoke.  My smoke breaks were punctuated by collapsing on the couch, unable to find the motivation to complete the task.

And then another 'old foe' came to call.  PTSD.  Or as I prefer to call my iteration of it, Post Traumatic Church Disorder.  Every negative experience I've had with the Church came rushing to the fore.  One voice within my head said "You're making a mountain out of a molehill.  The Church cares about you and will do what is right."  Another voice said "Fool!  Whenever the chips were down the Church has screwed you in the past, why, why, would you possibly even consider that the Church would do anything different now?"

Not only did I imagine that all appeals would be denied, but I imagined that the Church would determine it was a mistake in the first place to give me the disability benefits and DEMAND that they be repaid.  And given the fact that there is no way that I could repay the three years of income that I had received, they, as in the Church that I have loved and served throughout my life, would seize my house and pensions and I would be destitute.

Then my survival instincts kicked in.  Run!  Spare yourself the risk of the fight, and flee!  Drop the appeal, and simply divorce yourself from the Church.  Rebuild your life centered on something more stable and just than the Church which has been so capricious and cruel.

My guess is that a normal person probably would not react this way to that simple question, "How much did you make?"