Cancer-free!

Posted on November 17, 2023 by Scott Linscott

CANCER FREE!
All the pathology results from biopsies of surrounding tissue and lymph nodes after my radical prostatectomy show no cancer. Doc is confident he got it all! We’ll monitor with PSA tests to be sure but, my son, Josh says, “this is really really favorable results! No high risk features. Really high chance that you’ll never have to think about it again.”

I’m feeling such a sense of relief tonight. Honestly, because of my mindset and my past history, I was kind of anticipating that the worst was yet to come. That’s the medical mental pessimism that I am working to overcome.

I am now just over two weeks out from my surgery. I’m doing fine and the pain is decreasing every day. Unfortunately, because of scar tissue and ascites fluid damage and some mesh discovered in my abdomen, the surgeon had to open me up beyond the small incisions for the scope. That four to five inch long incision right along the scar tissue from another surgery is the area of greatest pain. My doctor’s son tells me it’s most likely because they had to grab a bunch of fascia tissue to stitch things together so that they would hold. But, at least now I can sneeze without feeling like the world is ending.

Also, as all of you well expected, I am up and moving around and getting bored. I am not totally dependent on others and can do things for myself. That was just another irrational fear left over from the trauma I experienced through my transplant journey. Yes, I’m wearing diapers and unhappy about that but it’s really no big deal. I have a couple more weeks of needing to severely limit my activities but then I’ll be breaking free.

I’m not supposed to sit upright with all of my weight on my bum for stretches of more than 45 minutes at a time. I’m finding that I do a whole lot of sitting doing the work that I do so I’m setting an alarm to make sure I get up and move, walk, or give my bum a rest by reclining for a bit. I have two more weeks of that.

I am very self-conscious about wearing diapers. I’m changing them often but I’m lighting candles all around the house and convinced that everything smells like pee. Robin assures me that it does not and that nobody can tell that I’m peeing in my pants over here. I even ordered some old guy cologne samples for when I get back out in public. I feel like a middle schooler with a spot on his shirt. Do you remember that? Surveys have shown that most kids would rather not go to school then go to school with a spot on their shirt because they’re pretty sure everyone is talking about them and noticing. So, yes, I’m basically a middle schooler convinced that everybody knows I’m wearing diapers. From what I understand I’ll be living the diaper life anywhere from 3 months to up to a year before the situation resolves. I’ll be starting pelvic floor physical therapy again next week.

I received some very positive news after spending several months on a waiting list to escalate my mental health needs to a trauma specialist. I got a phone call with an unexpected opening. That means I can resume my journey back toward solid mental health. My first appointment with the doctor went very well as I explained that my goal is to seek some healing from past trauma rather than just be equipped with tools to handle the symptoms. The next round of work begins now and I am ready to dig in and get going.

I’m so thankful for all of you who have been praying for me or taking the time to reach out.


Posted in chronic illness, counseling, mental health, Organ transplant, PTSD, prostatectomy | Tagged , , | 3 Comments

Here I am again, dependent

Posted on November 6, 2023 by Scott Linscott

I’m on the other side of my prostate cancer surgery. Of course, things didn’t go as smoothly as they could have and my past surgeries and conditions presented some challenges. I have a larger incision than we hoped for and my surgery was “sticky,” whatever that means.

This catheter thing is totally bizarre. I think I could have been better prepared for that. Not to be too graphic, but when you first check it out and see no evidence of your important little friend that you discovered at 8 months old and haven’t let go of since, you freak out a little bit. I told Robin, ” I think they removed it.” As the swelling has gone down my little pal has reappeared so all is not lost but that was kind of scary. (Yes, I still have my sense of humor.)

They’re going to take the catheter out probably at the end of this week or the beginning of next week. I know nothing about what that entails either. I’m not sure I want to know. Urologists are pretty chill. Should I ask Josh what to expect or should I go straight to Google where I will read horror stories? The last time I had a catheter, after my liver transplant, I have no memory of them taking it out but I was on a pretty potent cocktail of pain medications.

I am feeling too many similarities to coming home after my liver transplant. But, overall, I am handling it pretty well. I did have one PTSD meltdown, complete with tears and all, on Saturday night but otherwise I’ve been handling it well.

I am almost totally dependent on Robin again. I feel terrible that she is in this position yet again. At least now I am able to get up on my own after the first two days of having her pull me up while I winced in pain. She’ll come home from school early to clean me and help me shower. No sir, I don’t like that.

I know that having so many people praying for me has helped me experience peace for the most part. I doze for a couple hours, wake up and doze again.

My poor Ethan does not like seeing his Grampa in this condition. He’s such a little empath. I kept catching sadness on his face while he checked me out from a safe distance yesterday.

Today’s prayer request is for my bowels to wake up since they haven’t yet. This is day 4. It’s time. Plus, I’ve been doing all the things I’m supposed to do and drinking Metamucil twice a day.

Ew

I’d also like to wean off the more powerful pain meds. They work against the giant jug of Metamucil.

Thanks for praying. I know prayer works. There are even some studies that seem to show that faith matters to healing. My experience has taught me that prayer is effective and faith is vital to recovery.

Posted in PTSD, prostatectomy | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

Into the home stretch

Posted on October 30, 2023 by Scott Linscott

Yes, it has been a difficult year mentally and emotionally from starting off trying to help unsheltered people living in tents survive a harsh Maine winter, to losing 3 of my grandchildren to a move to Florida, to dealing with prostate cancer and PTSD with surgery coming up. Even so, it has been good for me in a number of ways.

First, I faced the stigma of seeking help and went to a therapist weekly. I grew a lot through the process. It was helpful to have someone help me sort out all the things going on in my heart and mind. I’m not done. I’d like to get more control over the PTSD triggers that have been with me since I heard the words, “without a liver transplant you will die.”

Second, I’ve grown more secure in my faith. Though I would preach Grace I had fallen into a pattern of believing I needed to do more and be more both as a pastor and believer to be good enough.

Lastly, I’m looking at the giant taunting me and I’m speaking to it like David spoke to Goliath. “God will give you to us,” David said. I now have more confidence that I will be fine. I am now better able to to separate this prostatectomy, with 90,000 performed per year, from the living liver donor transplant I had in 2012 and the less than 250 of them that occured that year. They are not the same. I knew that but my mind still had me freaking out worrying about being totally dependent on others and a burden to everyone again.

I can’t pretend that there’s no worry or no anxiety but now I know how to speak to it like David spoke to Goliath. It laughs at me but, like David, I am deciding that that doesn’t matter. I know what my God has done in the past to stay with me and I know he promises to do the same in the future. So, even though it’s going to be uncomfortable, and it’s not going to be fun, I will get through it. Afterward I will be carrying the head of the Giant and letting everybody know how my God gave me strength.

Let’s do this thing …

Posted in counseling, depression, therapy | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

As Summer winds down

Posted on August 26, 2023 by Scott Linscott

Have I made progress in the battle for my mind? Um, maybe?

I’ve definitely developed skills to help me climb out of the funks or to cut them off when I recognize the warning signs that a spiral is ahead.

My steps toward balance have paid off. I’m feeling more comfortable allowing myself the time I need to refresh. I’m not beating myself up nearly as often. That’s all good.

I’m also not running constantly to try to solve every crisis around me. I’m realizing I simply cannot solve every problem or meet every need. But, honestly, I am wondering if I have gone to the other extreme. Have I gone from doing everything to doing nothing? Is it okay to do nothing? How long will it take before I re-engage? When that final straw broke the camel’s back, did the camel ever recover?

The PTSD stuff still sits unresolved. I’ve been referred to trauma specialists but none of them have openings. I’m on a couple of waiting lists. So, I try to just deflect, deny and refuse to even think about the things that trigger my panic. I can only do that until I can’t. It’s only a matter of time before I come face-to-face with surgery stuff. Even writing that is making my heart rate increase.

Okay, let’s go. Let’s get into it. After they remove my prostate I will have a catheter for 1-2 weeks. I’ll be hospitalized overnight. I’ll have leakage and have to wear pads and diapers again. I’m 60-years-old and already had my go around with adult diapers. I dread that. And then the long-term stuff that some have … incontinence, impotence.

“Don’t worry, Scott. Only a small percent have those problems.” Do you happen to know what percent of people have a liver transplant? It’s well below 1%. I get no comfort from percentages.

…

I had to walk away and leave this post for a while to finish later. That’s what happens. PTSD winds me up so bad I can barely function. I pray. I breathe deep. I redirect my thoughts. When it’s really bad I have to take medication that slows everything way down and still not function.

I know there’s stigma that comes with admitting that. Most pastors on medication hide it like a dirty little secret. I don’t like that at all. Thankfully, I am not in a church that sent me packing when I told them I was at the end of my rope. Thankfully, I have felt nothing but love and support.

So, a lot of things are better but some things remain the same. Overall, I’m feeling good but also a little frustrated. I hate the panic attacks of PTSD. I hate not being in control at all times. I hate the way they happen without warning. I want to do something about them instead of medicating.

Thanks for the prayers and encouragement. I apologize for not updating in a while. There hasn’t been a whole lot to write while I sit here on waiting lists.

Posted in Liver disease | 5 Comments

The old me is returning

Posted on July 17, 2023 by Scott Linscott

Bit by bit, I am sensing that the old me, the authentic me, is returning. Other than my family, I doubt anyone even knew that what they’ve been seeing has been a facade. I am a good actor. I can switch on smiles and fake enthusiasm at the flip of a switch.

Enjoying time with my grandson.

Acting is exhausting. “Fake it until you make it” is bad advice if you have to continually fake it even after you’ve made it.

I’ve been learning to set boundaries, to say no and to release control. At first, I felt guilty and the people pleaser in me felt like I was failing. That was a difficult layer on top of the depression and impersonator syndrome that was my reality. It felt counterintuitive, like it was just making things worse. But, with the encouragement of the counselor I am seeing and friends who love me, I stayed the course. Bit by bit I started to experience relief and freedom.

I can’t tell you that I am entirely comfortable with taking my vacation or that I’m okay with my upcoming prostate surgery knocking me out of commission for 4-6 weeks later this Fall. That would be a lie.

I am reading The Remarkable Ordinary by Frederick Buechner. It’s reminding me of the old me, in the first 3-5 years after transplant. That me was filled with wonder and appreciation. That me stopped and smelled the roses. That me did not pile appointment on top of appointment and refused to rush people in and out of my life. That me listened to Jesus more closely, sitting in his Grace and was truly glad just to be here. I liked that me much more than the present me. He started to disappear as success came, the church grew and I accepted more and more responsibilities.

“Give all you know and all you don’t know about yourself to all you know and all you don’t know about God.” John Huffman

The Remarkable Ordinary, Frederick Buechner

What I know about myself is that I am a driven perfectionist, always wanting to be “better” and do more. I am learning that some of that is unhealthy. The Bible tells me I am enough and loved but my internal voice tells me I am never good enough and a screw up. Admitting that to others and giving it over to God is helping me to silence that voice, or, at least, not allow it prominence. I have been learning, as strange as it sounds, to speak to that part of me and tell it it’s wrong. I’ve been learning to allow myself Grace.

I’ve been gaining tools to help me address the negative, dysfunctional patterns I’ve developed that have made me mentally unhealthy. They are good tools and effective, when I use them, but they are mostly bandaids. I don’t feel like we’re addressing the traumas below that are affecting my mental health. So, we’ll be making a change moving me from LSW to someone who helps people understand and heal from trauma and PTSD.

I like that thus far none of my depression counseling has focused on medication. I don’t know if that will continue to be the case at the next level. I’m not opposed to carefully-monitored medication when it’s prescribed, but I think it is often prescribed too quickly as a symptoms fix. I’m praying for healing of the trauma not just relief from symptoms.

Today, we are off to Santa’s Village with my daughter’s family. Originally we had planned to go tomorrow but the weather forecast was not good so we changed it to today. I postponed today’s appointments without hesitation hesitation, not feeling at all bad about it. That’s the old me, back, valuing relationship and believing I am entitled to fun and rest. I recognize that I would expect someone else to do the same and would not feel slighted at all and have given myself the same grace.

Today, I’m feeling progress. Today, I’m welcoming the old me back onto the scene.

Thanks for your prayers. Please keep them coming.

Posted in mental health | 3 Comments

Balance matters

Posted on July 10, 2023 by Scott Linscott

Balance, rest, taking time to enjoy life is making a difference in my overall mental health. Still, when I am taking the time I need, I am fighting off the voices telling me I am not doing enough, am lazy or am slacking.

But, when balanced, I am finding that my focused time working is much more productive and efficient.

I am continuing meeting with Trisha every couple of weeks but preparing to move into some trauma counseling hoping to heal the past traumas so I don’t need this toolbox of reactive coping skills. That whole transplant thing left me carrying some pretty big bags. It’s time to let them go.

Our little church is struggling with some big financial battles. Ends are not meeting. Why? My mind has me taking the blame. “It’s my fault we don’t have enough to pay our bills. If I were a better pastor this wouldn’t be a problem.” Yes, faulty thinking has me taking on burdens and carrying them around. This week I started wondering if I should resign so the church can be successful. Pretty silly, I know.

God will provide, somehow. We’re doing the things he wants us to do. Faith is trusting in him to provide not me to solve all problems.

This past week we attended a ballgame with numerous organ recipients. It was good for me to have out with other miracles. I thought, “what am I doing wallowing? I’ve been given a great gift! It was a good reset for me.

Two of my grands holding “Donate Life” signs.

I will keep plodding forward thankful that God is patient and confident that he is healing me and restoring me. I was excited to preach this past Sunday. That’s a very good thing!

Thanks for your prayers for me through this mental journey. Some days I feel the setbacks are bigger than the gains, but I know that’s a lie. Balance is beginning to set my mind right.

Posted in burnout, depression, Find God, mental health, ministry | Tagged , , , , , | 2 Comments

Return to doing the things you like

Posted on June 12, 2023 by Scott Linscott

“Have you stopped doing things you like to do; things that once brought you joy?”

My answer to that question was mostly yes. Actually, some of the things that brought me joy have turned into joy robbers.  Some things that once energized now drain me. Have I changed or have they?

I think it’s some of both actually. When you do things as a volunteer, it brings a lot of satisfaction and even a good dose of appreciation at first. But then, as you continue doing them, you might find yourself in the position of feeling used and underappreciated. Or, you get some harsh criticism. That’s probably why places lose volunteers.

Honestly, I’m at the “why bother” point. My internal dialog is telling me, “to hell with it, you don’t need this headache,” and “no one else is doing anything, why should you?”

I’m telling myself that I shouldn’t feel this way. Do you ever do that? It really doesn’t make any sense because feelings don’t respond well to being told that they shouldn’t exist.

I’m feeling some frustration, some anger, some resentment, and discouragement. I feel like quitting and running away.  I feel like almost everywhere I go people are raging and want to fight, fight, fight. I don’t want to fight. I don’t want to argue. I don’t even want to be around arguing, I just want peace.

I know my perceptions are off. I know that my mental health and depression are coloring my conclusions. My lenses are cracked. I’m hypersensitive to criticism and even hear alternate suggestions as, “no, your idea sucks, you suck.”

Counseling sessions are going okay, I think. It is at least providing an outlet I haven’t had before. I’m getting some helpful exercises that help me find temporary relief but, especially today, I am doubting we’re moving toward any cure for this funk.

I’ll keep going. I’ll keep praying. I’ll keep reading and listening to audiobooks, though none are delivering the quick fix I want.  They all seem to be saying, “this is the reason you’re feeling like you’re dealing and thinking the way you think.”

Great, thanks. So, how about we fix it? Now.

Some days are much better days than I’ve had in awhile. Other days suck. Today I feel defective and alone in this battle, as though no one could possibly understand.  My prayers seem to bounce off the ceiling like God has stepped away, folded his arms and said, “stop this nonsense and pull yourself together.” I KNOW that’s a lie.

I can’t imagine going through all this without knowing the Truth of my faith, even if I’m not experiencing it right now.  I know the light at the end of this tunnel is not a train. I know it is Light.

Posted in depression, leadership, ministry, pastor | Tagged , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Who condemns you?

Posted on May 17, 2023 by Scott Linscott

One of my favorite stories in all of scripture tells of a woman who was dragged in front of Jesus, being used as bait to trick Jesus into a no-win situation. She had been caught in sin, clearly guilty, but the interaction between Jesus and the religious leaders was not about her at all. After Jesus deals with the men trying to trap him, he turns to the woman standing there in her shame and asks, “who condemns you woman?”

She looks up and sees that all of her accusers are gone and replies in amazement, “no one Lord.” Then Jesus tells her that he doesn’t condemn her either.

Who condemns you?

Self-condemnation is part of what I am working through. I don’t toss around condemnation at anyone around me. I truly believe that our job is to love everyone and let God sort everything out later but when it comes to myself I’m having trouble letting go of my hyper self-critical dysfunction. Showing compassion to myself? Forgiving myself? Cutting myself some slack? I’m not very good at any of those things.

Honestly, if I were standing in front of Jesus right now and he were to ask me, “who condemns you, Scott,” I’d tell him that I condemn myself. It is so strange because I know that my God doesn’t condemn me, and I know that my church family is behind me, and I know my family is with me, but I have these feelings of failing that keep bubbling up.

Those feelings get into my head and they zap my motivation and work to convince me that I shouldn’t even try. I’m able to do the stuff I need to do by forcing myself but I miss the excitement and motivation I had just a few years ago. I want to want to teach. I want to want to preach. I don’t want to just go through the motions.

Not every depressed person lies on their couch with a blanket over their head while their sad dog cries while holding a leash in its mouth. I see those commercials saying depression hurts everyone and I conclude that I’m not depressed. But then when I read through the list of the symptoms of depression I have to check off several.

No – continuous low mood or sadness
Maybe – feeling hopeless and helpless (not helpless but maybe powerless)
Sometimes – having low self-esteem
Sometimes – feeling tearful
No – feeling guilt-ridden
Maybe? – feeling irritable and intolerant of others (impatient)
Yes – having no motivation or interest in things
No – finding it difficult to make decisions
Somewhat – not getting any enjoyment out of life
Yes – feeling anxious or worried
No – having suicidal thoughts or thoughts of harming yourself

Twelve years ago, I went through a period of depression like you see on those television ads. I was sick and needed a transplant. Am I dealing with depression now? I’m not lying on my couch day after day with my hood pulled over my head, but I am having days when I isolate, feel overwhelmingly sad and just want to sleep all day. Those online self-assessment thingies tell me I have moderate depression but the list of symptoms is so extensive it makes me wonder who isn’t depressed .

If I am battling some depression, is that okay? Can I share it openly? Can a pastor be a pastor and fight depression? I read the book of Psalms and see the Psalter doing what I have been doing. He battles, writes, questions things and feels depressed and then restates the truth of who God is in spite of how he feels. Is that a reminder to himself?

Have you ever read Psalm 88? If you think everything has to always be happy, happy, joy, joy when you have faith in God, you’ll be surprised. Heman the Ezrahite was a man of faith, a musician, an Influencer who loved God but was clearly struggling.

Is it okay for a pastor to struggle?

Maybe, since Heman struggled and David, Elijah, Jonah, Job, Moses and Jeremiah struggled, it’s okay for me to be struggling as well? If Jesus said his soul was deeply grieved to the point of death, why do I think I cannot or should not struggle?

The “accuser of the brethren” keeps whispering that I cannot shepherd my flock, that I am unqualified and that I cannot have these feelings and claim I believe in Jesus. I know he’s a liar but he sure is persistent and persuasive.

The real answer to “who condemns you, Scott” is “no one Lord, especially not you.”

Posted in burnout, depression, leadership, mental health, ministry | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments

No bad parts?

Posted on April 26, 2023 by Scott Linscott

The body is a unit made up of many parts. The bible uses this truth to explain how followers of Christ should function together using the truth that the human body is made up of many parts as a given. I’ve never really considered the parts that make up my psyche, my personality, and my character until now.

Why do I think the way I do? What shapes my reactions and responses? What parts have worked together to either protect me or help me cope with difficult situations or trauma?

I’m now reading No Bad Parts by Richard C. Schwartz and finding it very interesting. Once again I am finding a number of the principles presented aligning nicely with many of the teachings of Jesus. It’s pretty funny how these authors work to clearly distance themselves from religion but then end up saying some of the same things Jesus said, just in different ways.

We’re working on the self-critical part of me right now. It’s the part of me that focuses on my missteps and mistakes and magnifies them to the point of self-denigration. For example, Sunday morning a member of our church family shared some things. I gave her a handheld, wireless mic. Not knowing how to use a mic, she held it at her waist which made her difficult for some to hear. In my mind that became, “Scott, you idiot, you should have put it on a mic stand!” Everything else in the service went very well but I left unhappy with myself because of one little thing. I am very frustrated with myself.

According to Schwartz, unless I am misunderstanding, this behavior developed in part of me that was working to develop a coping skill. That makes no sense to me. I can’t understand how my expectation of perfection from myself, while I extend grace to everyone else, came from a good thing. Why won’t I extend grace to myself?

I’ve been a good boy, writing myself little affirmation notes. It feels ridiculous…

Dear Scott,

You did a good job communicating today. People seemed engaged and your points were clear. Things went well! You even ended on time.

– from me

Sheesh, this exercise feels so stupid. I mean, those things are true and positive but I feel silly writing them.

In a letter to the church of Philippi, Paul counsels them to focus their thoughts on the things that are true, lovely, excellent, praiseworthy, instead of what psychologists calls

“ANTs.” (*Automatic Negative Thoughts)

Philippians 4:8

I know this is a training exercise helping me reprogram my mind and I know Paul tells us to do it. I just wonder when it will stop feeling ridiculous and contrived. No one said stomping out ANTs would be easy.

So … that’s where I am in my mental health journey. I know we all have ANTs. I need to go from an ANT infestation to managed, balanced ANT control.

🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 STOMP!!!

Posted in anxiety, burnout, counseling, depression, discouragement, imposter syndrome, mental health, ministry, pastor | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Rewriting my internal dialogue

Posted on April 20, 2023 by Scott Linscott

This week’s assignment feels weird. I haven’t been able to do it yet. I get started and then think, “this is stupid” and then I give up.

I like to write encouragement cards and send texts to others saying stuff like “attaboy” and “I appreciate you,” or “good job.” I mean every word of each text or card I write.

“Would you be able to write something like that to yourself?” my counselor asked.

We were talking about my tendency to see everything short of perfection as failure for myself and how I dismiss praise as disingenuous.

I immediately thought of Al Franken’s Stuart Smalley character on Saturday Night Live looking at his reflection in the mirror,”I’m good enough, I’m smart enough, and doggone it, people like me!”

If I don’t even believe other people when they say kind things why would I believe myself?

Last week I saw a Facebook post thanking a photographer for volunteering at a non-profit event and praising his work. The photos posted were absolutely terrible. They were dark, out of focus and lacked any sense of composition. Honestly, they looked like the work of a 10-year-old with a new digital camera. What bothered me was all the posts underneath heaping on praise for all the “awesome” photos.

I get it. People were just being kind and thanking him for his efforts. He’s obviously just learning. The problem is that my messed-up mind concluded that people are also lying when they say my photos are awesome or they are just being kind.

It’s ridiculous. I know I have years of undergraduate and graduate level formal education. I know I have knowledge, technical proficiency and 40 years of professional and semi-professional experience as a photographer. My resumé includes dozens of weddings from Maine to Florida to Hawaii with happy people giving rave reviews. Hundreds of portraits hang on walls: seniors, children, families. Gallery pieces sell every year. Marketing, branding, professional headshots … but still, my mind is now telling me I don’t really know what I’m doing and I stress out before even the simplest of shoots.

Male and female bluebird at feeder.
Mounted a GoPro at my bluebird feeder.

The same thing is happening with my work as a pastor. I know I am equipped to teach. I know my seminary education prepped me and I know that working in ministry since 1981 has left me with plenty of experiences, good and bad. But I am stressing out about everything thinking, “you don’t know what you’re doing. You suck at this.”

So now my therapy homework has me writing down my strengths, telling myself I did a good job with this or that and affirming my value. I’ll keep doing it because people who study brains and know how they work tell me this will be helpful. I need to change my internal dialogue.

More importantly, David shows me in the Psalms that it is certainly a biblical exercise as well. If it was good enough for David it is good enough for me and I will make myself do it.

You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body
and knit me together in my mother’s womb.
Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex!
Your workmanship is marvelous—how well I know it.

Psalm 139:13-14

I really, really appreciate all you who are praying for me through this Romans 12:2 journey of renewing my mind. Thank you!

Posted in anxiety, counseling, depression, discouragement, imposter syndrome, mental health, ministry, pastor | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

How long will this take?

Posted on April 12, 2023 by Scott Linscott

I finished my brain book. I think it was helpful but the last section with the practical tips seemed a bit too simplistic. Maybe “simplistic” is the wrong word. I don’t know what the right word is.

The Upward Spiral cover

Perhaps the practical tips are more for the depressed person who has largely given up? I found myself saying, “Yeah, okay, I do that. Why am I still a mess?” I have too many moments when I isolate, sink into the couch, and just go into phone scrolling oblivion.

When I have no motivation or interest in much of anything I usually try to force myself out of my unhealthy patterns by taking some of the same steps the author recommended. I’ll give you some examples of action steps Korb recommends that I already do.

  • Volunteer to help others.
  • Spend time being around people.
  • Smile and find things to laugh about.
  • List the things that you are grateful or thankful for.
  • Find some sunlight.
  • Do something different. Change the setting.
  • Deep breaths & meditation (prayer)
  • Write encouragement notes/cards.
  • Root for a sports team.

Other recommendations that are definite struggles for me:

  • Be okay with good, not perfect.
  • Don’t focus on the negatives. Elevate the positives.
  • Consistent exercise. (If my plan falls through I do nothing.)
  • Restorative sleep.

An old pastor type once told me that the most difficult part of being a minister is “it is only a matter of time before you will be a disappointment and fail to live up to expectations. People will come and go no matter what you do.” I didn’t believe him and wrote him off as a jaded old man. Now I understand the pressure he was talking about.

When people come they praise and gush. When people go, they complain and criticize. I brush off the praises almost immediately and think, “yeah, just wait.” When people leave, I hang onto their criticisms and play them over and over again in my head. I blame myself for not being a better pastor even when their criticisms are not based in reality. It’s dumb but I see their coming as luck and their going as my fault.

I almost never leave after Sunday morning thinking on the positives. I think of my stumbles, the notes I missed, the livestream that shut off randomly or the sound system feedback. It doesn’t matter if a hundred people tell me things were wonderful. I don’t believe them.

Now that I’ve read book number two on my mental wellness journey I am starting to wonder what it will take to get me back to thinking straight and processing in a more healthy way.

I think I’m a bigger mess than taking regular walks in the sunshine is going to fix. I want a quick and easy solution but the ancient manuscripts I read (the bible) describe mental health as a journey of retraining and renewing. Ugh.

Last night was not restful at all, even after a 13 mile bike ride yesterday afternoon. My mind raced and it felt like my heart was racing too. I focused on slow, deep breaths in and out thanking God for his goodness and then praying for his blessings on everyone who came to mind. In … out … in … out. I finally gave up and got out of bed at about 4:30 AM. I felt no better. It’s 7 now and I still feel that pressure and anxiety even with a VERY light day ahead. I’m not even scheduled to preach Sunday!

This is so frustrating but I will continue to plug away, learn and try to take every thought captive.

I appreciate all you who are praying for me and walking this same journey with me. There is victory ahead even if we can’t see it yet.

Photo of tree on a dirt trail through marsh
From my ride on the Eastern Trail. So peaceful.

Posted in anxiety, burnout, counseling, depression, discouragement, hope, hopeless, leadership, mental health, ministry, pastor | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Where are my memories?

Posted on April 7, 2023 by Scott Linscott

You want to know something weird? I have zero positive Easter memories from growing up. I only remember one Easter when I was 15 years old and it was very negative. I’m 60 years old and I think of it every single Easter that arrives.

My dad battled alcoholism for most of his life. My sisters grew up with him being an active alcoholic but by the time I was seven or eight, I think, my dad started going to Alcoholics Anonymous. I’m not really sure when he was drinking or when he was dry but I do know he always had some type of breath mint or lozenge in his mouth. I didn’t know why then but I suspect I know why now.

My sisters were out of the house by the time I was 9 years old, being 10 and 12 years older than me. I remember growing up with my mother always telling me that if my dad started drinking again we would be leaving him.

When I was 15 years old he did not come home on Easter Weekend. He did not come home Friday night. He did not come home Saturday night. I remember how tense my mother was but she wouldn’t say anything to me about it. I had never witnessed dad going out on a full weekend bender.

When I woke up on Easter Sunday morning my mother was waiting for me and told me to go back into my room and pack some things. She told me that Dad didn’t come home again and said through tears “I won’t live this way again.” Stunned, I did it she asked while my mind was racing with all the normal things that would be racing through a teenager’s mind. What would this mean for me? Would we be moving? What about my friends? What about my sports? Why would he do this?

I remember sitting down at the table to eat breakfast. My plate was the only one on the table instead of the usual two plates, one for Dad and one for me. The tense silence was so thick that it was deafening, if that makes any sense at all. I heard footsteps coming up the back deck and saw panic on my mother’s face. She told me, “go get your things.”

I came out of my room with my bag and saw him standing there in his long London Fog trench coat looking like he’d spent the weekend sleeping on a park bench. The hurt on my mother’s face made me more angry than I think I’ve ever been. With tears rolling down her cheeks she said something to my dad that I couldn’t quite hear and we walked past him and out the door.

I have no idea where we’re going and then when I figured it out I was shocked. We were going to church. Church was the last place I wanted to be. I was mad at my father but I was equally as mad at God for “doing this to me” as though he pushed my dad off the wagon. I remember thinking “this is stupid” while watching my mother trying to sing the traditional Easter hits and everyone being all happy that Jesus rose from the dead. Me? I was thinking, “so what?”

We spent that whole afternoon ruining the pastors’ families Easter at his house. I could hear the adults talking in the other room and could hear my mom crying but I was left sitting on a flower patterned sofa in the other room staring at a TV.

That’s the only Easter I remember. I don’t remember little kid Easter egg hunts. I don’t remember Easter baskets. I remember nothing except for that nightmare.

I don’t know what happened but now I’m sure our church played a role in my parents patching things up and my dad getting back to battling for sobriety again. I spent almost two years not all that interested in God. I played the church game, did the youth group thing. As far as I was concerned, church stuff was all about the social. I pretended to buy in pretty well.

Now I am a pastor and our Super Bowl Sunday is Easter Sunday. Churches work like crazy to make everything bigger and better trying to compete for the people who come once a year. That has never appealed to me but I do feel the Easter pressure that every pastor feels.

I wonder if part of my non-celebratory attitude is linked at all to that Sunday when I was 15? If I wasn’t the pastor I think I might avoid church on Easter even though I love Jesus and love the community I have in my church. I’d definitely go other weeks though. I love church and celebrating the risen Christ. It’s just Easter Sunday that I have to push through.

This week I asked why all these trauma memories that have nothing to do with my cancer diagnosis or transplant PTSD are bubbling to the top. Apparently I am mentally vulnerable right now so the negatives are rising to the surface.

Am I doing more harm than good? Am I opening up a can that should stay closed? She assures me I am not and says I am doing well at taking steps toward mental health by processing things I’ve pushed aside.

I’m not totally sure I buy that yet but I can see that I’m at least gaining understanding

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Shaking off the dropped balls.

Posted on April 4, 2023 by Scott Linscott

I really could use some beta-endorphin and beta-lipotrophin from pedaling my bike today. The last I knew today’s forecast was for warmth and sun. Now it’s calling for rain and 48°.

The endorphin thing is brain talk I’m learning from “The Upward Spiral: Using Neuroscience to Reverse the Course of Depression, One Small Change at a Time” by Alex Korb. Wow, does that sound like a page-turner, or what?? It’s not that bad, actually.

I’ve been trying to spend 15-20 minutes watching birds at my feeders. God uses them to calm me and remind me that I’m secure in his love. Did you know that research is showing that birding changes our brain structure. Yes, it’s a thing. I like watching and photographing birds so I’ve been trying to spend more time with them in my efforts to rediscover things I like that I’ve allowed life to push aside.

I also like baseball but I’ve watched very little baseball since the COVID stoppage. So, I’ve been making an effort to watch baseball again. I don’t know that watching the Red Sox is helping. I might have to find a new team with more positives to root for!

When you drop the ball, do you ever give yourself a break and think, “hey, millionaires who get paid to catch balls drop them too?” I’ve seen a bunch of professional ball catchers drop balls so far this baseball season. They keep playing. When I feel like I’ve dropped the ball I dwell on it, condemn myself and sulk. I need to learn from them and not let the balls I drop (if I even really “drop” them at all) help me forget all the balls I catch day in and day out.

Yesterday was a dropped ball. I was ready to force myself to get out on my bicycle but then 43° and 15-20 MPH winds stopped me. Then, I felt like a failure for not forcing myself to get out there and went into a funk, hid under a blanket on the couch and slept. I then ruined our date night with my foul mood and physically didn’t feel well. If someone came to me telling me they decided not to ride their bike in 34° wind-chill I’d say, “well, of course not!” But for me, somehow the cold weather became my fault and I failed by not exercising.

I know in my knower, as a former coach used to say, that kind of thinking makes no sense, but the feelings in my feelers are disconnected from what is rational.

It’s a new day and I am determined to charge into it chasing down fly balls. My goal is to shake off the drops, even my perceived drops, and instead focus on the ones I catch. Those millionaire ballplayers are still millionaires even after a drop and I’m still just as valuable to my Creator. I know that in my knower and am praying God starts rewiring my feeler.

Posted in anxiety, burnout, Christianity, counseling, depression, discouragement, exercise, hope, hopeless, mental health, ministry, pastor, peace | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Just getting started

Posted on April 1, 2023 by Scott Linscott

I knew, going into counseling, that I would encounter stuff that I consider way out in left field. I knew I’d hit things recommending ancient practices for self-regulation and I knew I’d come against things that fly in the face of my faith in Jesus. It didn’t take too long before that started.

I’ve just about completed the first book recommended to me that is mostly a biography written by a journalist who was experiencing panic attacks. He set out looking for answers. Long story short, he found a way to be 10% happier through Buddhist meditation. I found it fascinating and I found numerous parallels with the teachings of Jesus as it relates to meditative prayer, peace, and rest. But, the ultimate goals of Buddhist meditation are vastly different than the goals of meditative prayer.

What do I mean? With a caveat that I am no Buddhist scholar and have only taken a few courses in comparative religions and have now read this book, it seems that the ultimate goal of Buddhist meditation is to meditate enough and do enough good deeds to be reincarnated as a higher life form until perfection is attained. There are numerous levels of consciousness to work toward and always motivation to work harder.

The ultimate goal of meditative prayer for the Christ follower is to build an intimate relationship with God that leaves one more Christ-like in attitude, word and deed. The reward of an eternity in heaven and new life is not based on achieving additional levels or working harder. The reward comes through faith in Christ alone and his redemptive work on the cross as a gift to sinful, imperfect people.

However, even with that being said, I found some of the methodology described for Buddhist meditation transferable to my own meditative prayer life so it wasn’t a total loss. For example Buddhist METTA includes steps to consider self (although not called self), then someone close, then someone neutral and then someone we don’t like, and lastly, everything in the universe. In my meditative prayer, after focusing my thoughts on God’s character and worship, I can pray recognizing my need for him to work in my life, then for my loved ones, then someone in my circle who I know of but do not know, and then my “enemy” and finally, thy kingdom come. I like that idea without buying into the cosmic energy and thought power stuff.

It was a worthwhile read but I won’t recommend it by title because it will cause way too much confusion to someone not firm in their faith. It did give me better understanding of a different religion and culture.

The counselor I am seeing has me journaling (here) and keeping a log of my emotions, thoughts and reactions. Also, I am supposed to be doing things I like that I have let get devoured by demands on my time and attention. Honestly, I am having trouble remembering what I used to like. I don’t know if that even makes sense but, whoomp, there it is. I think I like a lot of warm weather things but not many cold weather things. Robin and I have been setting aside time for us though and I like that.

Something from my log:

“Wednesday PM teaching, second guessing myself. I know Jesus was at Ceserea-Phillipi when he said this but am afraid to say it because I might be wrong. I know I am not wrong but doubt myself. 8/10 nerves. Tight breathing, headache, feel fuzzy headed like I am watching myself. I think I hid it well. No one knows. Took medication before bed to settle. 45 min later, was still wound up mentally and emotionally.”

That’s an example of some of my crossed wires, racing thoughts, self-doubt. I feel so stupid writing it, like I am crazy or something but I’ve promised to share honestly. Sharing from a place of weakness is hard. I don’t like it.

Now I am onto a book written by a PhD neuroscientist about brain research findings. This is much more my style. I like data. I like explanations that make sense. I don’t find science a threat to my faith at all. I am only a chapter in but much more hopeful that this one will help me make sense of why mind is so chaotic.

I am doing my best to be attentive to God working all around me. I’m thanking him and working on training my mind to “take every thought captive.” But, training those thoughts feels a lot like herding cats right now.

I know we’re just getting started.

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Seeing a counselor?

Posted on March 25, 2023 by Scott Linscott

On Sunday, March 12, I stood up in front of the church family I love and said, “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t continue like I am.” For the next 30-40 minutes I opened myself up and let everyone in on the stuff I was hiding and told them I needed help. I told them I have been having some mental health challenges and have been hiding all of it and pretending I’m fine.

It was scary. I’m a pastor. I don’t know if you know much about Christians or churches but there’s a significant chunk that believes seeking any type of mental health help is unbiblical and even “of the devil.”

Pastors don’t get help. They struggle alone for as long as they can and then they leave ministry to sell insurance or real estate. I have no desire to do that. So I decided to come clean and admit my self-doubt, anxiety, depression, and mental confusion with feelings of being totally overwhelmed.

Even though I was nervous and scared of the thought of opening myself up to everyone, they took it very well and surrounded me with support, love and prayer. I don’t know why I was so nervous about it because, in our church family, we know that life is messy and try to maintain a culture where we share burdens and walk with each other through weakness. We also are not at odds with science and medical advances, believing that God, in his providential love for humankind, has allowed us discovery and knowledge.

I had my first session with a counselor Thursday. Ever since my cancer diagnosis, my thoughts and emotions have run amok and are making me feel feels and think thoughts that are unlike me. Actually, it feels like all my wires are crossed and the me that I am has been disappearing in a hole while people topside toss shovels of dirt on my head. So, I need some counsel to help me sort all this out because I believe mental health is important. Also, I miss me.

Transplant, trauma, starting over, surgery, PTSD, being totally dependent on others, self-doubt, loss of roles, disability, irrational fears, rational fears – phew! I’m a lot. Am I a counselor’s dream or nightmare? I guess we’re going to find out. The good news is that she didn’t have me committed so I have that going for me.

I have homework to accomplish before next week:

1) I need to do some things I like to do that I have not done in awhile – things that have been pushed out by too much busyness and overcommitment.
2) I need to observe my patterns and write,  keying in on what usually precedes an avalanche of feels.

No sweat. I can do those things. In fact, I’m looking forward to them.

Robin and I went out to a real restaurant last night where we didn’t place our order with a teenager at the counter. We haven’t done that, just the two of us, since probably Fall of 2019.

I carved out some time yesterday, grabbed my camera and went walking one of the Presumpscot trails with Pom (my dog). We used to do stuff like that. She loved it, I loved it. I remember the calm of just sitting on a log, watching a stream, thinking about nothing, planning nothing and thanking God for life. There were no signs of life on yesterday’s icey, muddy trails but I still found beauty and it felt good to breathe.

I was hoping to photograph some signs of Spring but found only mud and melting snow.

There is beauty even in this in-between season of dirty snow and mud, we just have to search harder to find it. We won’t find it unless we look at things from a different perspective. I studied the inside of a rotting, hollowed-out tree and ended up making my favorite photo of the day there in the decay.

The inside of a rotting tree.

While we were walking, I also stopped to photograph the inside of a woodpecker’s hole, stumps, downed trees and mud. Once I accepted what was, I was able to find the beauty in it.

There’s the lesson of the afternoon – once we accept the reality of what is, we will be able to find the beauty in it.

I could have slip-slided my way back out of the woods, disappointed, without taking a single picture. The signs of life I came for were nowhere to be found. I could have driven home believing I wasted my time and scolding myself for even trying.

I remember one of the most difficult times of my life, sitting in a small room waiting for my mother to die. But there, beside her bed, sat my father holding her hand. She was not conscious and he was in the throws of Alzheimer’s, not fully aware of much. With tears in my eyes I snapped a precious, beautiful picture in the midst of the pain. Their wrinkled hands, with arthritic fingers and bulging knuckles were locked together. It was beautiful. It was powerful. It was precious. I am so thankful I didn’t miss it. Even in the final days of hospice grief, there was beauty if only I would look for it.

I can’t tell you that I’m comfortable admitting that I am seeing a counselor yet. There are jokes and jabs all around us about people who “need therapy.” I don’t like admitting weakness but, I’ve decided to write about it and share my continuing journey with you as honestly as I can, hoping that it might encourage, motivate, educate or inspire you. Or, perhaps it will at least give you someone to pray for.

Thessalonians 5:16-18 (with my thoughts)

“Rejoice always (in God’s faithfulness, never leaving us), pray continually (lay it bare), give thanks in all circumstances (looking for the beauty); for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.”

Posted in burnout, depression, direction, discouragement, hope, Liver disease, mental health, pastor | Tagged , , , , , , , | 3 Comments