No Man's Land

As I wrestle with the reality of being bipolar and its affect on my vocational choices I find myself convinced that there is a "no man's land" to which I, and perhaps the mentally ill in general, are confined.

This is the thing.  When I was initially diagnosed things had reached a critical level.  My depression was spiraling downward at an alarming rate.  Abuse of alcohol left me a wreck.  I was dealing with a major anxiety disorder, identified as PTSD.  I was having partial complex seizures.  My functonal capacity was incredibly diminished.  I was subsequently diagnosed as bipolar.

Things had gotten to the point that everyone, myself included, was in agreement.  I became convinced I was disabled and needed extended time off.  My family agreed.  My bishop agreed.  The congregation supported that (though it wasn't clear at that time the duration).  And it was determined that my condition qualified me for long term disability benefits.  Everyone was on the same page.

After a period of about three months I decided that I needed to resign my pastorate, and devote myself full time to the process of trying to find some balance again in my life.  I found hope in my prior vocation and decided to use this period when I was receiving disability benefits to re-establish my woodworking business that I had pursued many years before prior to my becoming a pastor.  What happened was that I cycled out of depression and into a manic phase.  I cashed in a significant portion of my pensions to invest in woodworking equipment.  I convinced my son to join me in the business adventure.  I had unreasonable expectations of the amount of income I could generate.  That manic phase lasted a few months.  Then some objections to the noise levels were raised by neighbors.  And the phone did not ring with all the anticipated business that I had projected in my own mind.  I was thrown back into deep depression.  I was qualified once again for continuation of disability benefits.  Everyone remained on the same page.

There has been some moderation of these major mood swings as a direct result of the therapy that I am on, and the reduction of stress in my life, and the avoidance of 'triggers'.

One of the consequences of this moderation, is that the insurance company that manages the disability benefit program determined that I am no longer eligible for continuation of disability benefits.  It is my understanding that they believe that there is nothing that would prevent me from returning to parish ministry.  That decision, currently being appealed, has resulted in a situation in which everyone is NOT on the same page anymore.  It has created a quandary.

The insurance company believes that I have no cognitive or physical impairment that would prevent me from resuming parish ministry.  The bishop has stated  on numerous occasions that he would need a release from my medical team to return to work.  But, my medical team is hesitant to provide any assessment of my ability to return to pastoral ministry.  My psychiatrist has stated that my condition is a permanent disability as it relates to a return to pastoral ministry.  Likewise, for my psychologist.  The 800 pound gorilla in the room is the legal liability that they would incur if they sent me back to parish ministry with an active mental illness.  Specifically, if they sign off on my return to parish ministry and I go into a manic stage and do something inappropriate they could be held liable.  And they are not about to do that.

No man's land.  Not sick enough to qualify for continued disability benefits.  Not well enough to return to my vocation.  At least that's the current status, pending the appeal of the determination of the insurance company.

And so I do what I can.  I'm working at a cabinet shop for a fraction of what I made as a pastor, with no benefits.  I continue to work on Olsons WoodWorks projects as they come in, though it remains to be seen if this will ever be profitable.  And I wait.

In all of it, I remain convinced that God is good and gracious.  We have been able to pay our bills.  I'm not off the charts in either depression or mania.  At least for the time being.  And assistance has come forward when it was most needed.

Sometimes, that's all we can ask for.