For some time, ever since I read the first post about it, I have desired to earn the Northwich Warrior Society award. In my opinion this is a true blogging award because of what you do to earn the badge. I never really thought about facing fear before and to say that I’ve never had to face a fear is not true, but a lot of times, when you have gone trough a long trial or faced a major problem, when you look back on it, you see that you made it and it doesn’t seem as bad as it did while you were in the middle of it. Not always, of course, but often enough that the memory of it fades. Another problem I had with this is that I know there are readers and bloggers out there who have been forced by life to face things that I would never want to face, even though I know I will have to at some point. I can’t say that I will have the grace or courage to write about them.
In saying all that I guess I want to convey that I am not trying to compare myself to anyone else nor am I saying my problem was so awful
As documented in a few different posts, ( Not B.O., Two Saltine Recipes or Cheese Is Divisible By Four, and my fiction short story, Even Steven) I have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder or O.C.D. (Which, by it’s very nature should be called C.D.O.). Some years back now, I took an online test at a reputable psychological website. I say reputable in the way that Webmd.com is reputable. Good for some stuff, but go to the doctor if you really want to know. I took several tests but I only copy the pertinent one, here (I broke the links on purpose):
Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD)
You scored a total of 24
Based upon your responses to this screening measure, you are most likely suffering from an obsessive-compulsive disorder. You can view symptoms and treatment options for this disorder. This is not a diagnosis, or a recommendation for treatment. However, it would be advisable and likely beneficial for you to seek a professional diagnosis from a trained mental health professional in your community immediately.
|If you scored…||Then…|
|12 & up|
8 – 11
0 – 7
|OCD is likely|
OCD is probable
OCD is unlikely
“Um, Herb,” You say, “So what?”
So, one of my things is spelling (and grammar as I understand it). I don’t just cringe at the very idea of misspelling something and when I have actually done it? One time, long, long ago, I sent an article out via a printed newsletter and spelled calendars as “calenders.” I was physically sick when I discovered it. It is how I got the job running the projector at church. I was constantly going back to the guy who was doing it and correcting his spelling and apostrophes and just generally being a huge nag. I felt like, not only was it wrong because it was wrong, but, in my opinion, it makes the church look bad. “What a bunch of dunderheads! They don’t know anything about its or it’s or there, they’re, and their. And they’re going to teach me about something as important as the Bible?” This was the crux of my anxiety and why the guy said, “Brother, would you like to do this instead of me?” I said, “Yes.” That’s why, now, I am the guy in charge of a few people running it.
And that’s where my problem came in. Being the guy in charge, I am responsible to make sure everything is perfect and people come to me when it’s not. So, I had this conversation:
Church Secretary: “I sent a picture to Media. Bishop wants to use it tonight.”
Me: “That’s cool. I’ll look at it when I get to Church. I’m not running it tonight.”
When I got to the church I poked my head in the media room. the people I have working for me right now are on the ball and I really don’t have to check up on them; I check in with them. So, it surprised the person when I made an audible gasp, the vein in my temple throbbing and my blood pressure rising to unsafe levels and said, “We can’t put that up there!” I had seen this (this is just a corner of the picture to highlight it. It might as well have been written in flaming letters 50 feet high.) on the screen:
Called the Church Secretary and explained. Bad thing was, it was a .jpg, which means it’s flat and there’s no reasonable way to edit it. While conferring with Church Secretary and helper, was told a call had been put in to the person who made it and they were going to fix it. “That’s good. We can’t use it like that.” Just then the Bishop walks in and joins our conversation.
Now, Bishop Johnson is the kindest, gentlest, humblest, most congenial, every-other-good-superlative-you-can-think-of-that-fits-the-Bible-Definition-of-a-Bishop, person you will ever meet in your life. He is also a man who says what he means and means what he says, first time. He said, “Well, we better try to get this fixed. You said he’s working on it and hopefully he’ll get it done in time. If not, we’ll have to put it up the way it is.” And that was that. The Bishop is not the person to gainsay with.
I felt my throat tighten up and found it hard to breathe. Was I going to pass out? My helpful helper just said, “You need to pray through.” Of course, this was good advice, which I tried to follow as good as I could, while clapping my sweaty palms and trying to worship without hyperventilating. I could do this. I would force myself to tolerate going through the whole sermon looking at that misspelled word. I would not run back and frantically pull all of the cords out of the wall and I would not, under any circumstances, trip the circuit breakers. I would fight my anxiety back down my throat and control my breathing.
The Spirit helped me and began soothing my nerves. He said to me (Okay, so God has never spoken to me in an audible voice, but when he speaks to you by His Spirit it’s even deeper.), “Look, do you trust me or not?” “Well, of course I do, but…” “Who’s in charge around here?” “You are, Boss.” “Do I ever have a reason for anything I do?” “Yes, but…” I breathed again. Of course, I knew that ultimately God is in control, not my personal feelings. I would just have to accept the things I could not change, suck it up and drive on. I was at peace. I had conquered my self and was ready. If the misspelled slide was going up and there was nothing I could do about it, then so be it.
Thus I gained victory over my fear and anxiety and let go of it (okay, okay, after He pried my fingers open a bit).
I still breathed a sigh of relief when the slide contained this, instead: