The Imposter Syndrome and Other Untreatable Conditions

Passed along by my friend, Emily Hendrix,
this illustrates, for me, the struggle many of us face.

Does it help to know there is a name for your condition? Sometimes.

The Frustration of Undiagnosed Symptoms

Over the past few years, I have experienced a particular set of symptoms that strikes, inconveniently, for only between twenty-four and forty-eight hours in duration. Thankfully, I am debilitated by it for only about twelve of those hours. And whereas it had been happening more frequently, the increased severity of each attack has accompanied an increased interval between episodes. Still, there is a growing frustration since the average time between requesting and receiving an appointment with anyone in the medical community here in the remote mountains of northern California is between two and three weeks. So, attempting to diagnose what might have been happening a fortnight ago has proved to be an elusive objective.

Am I worried about what it might be? To some extent, yes. Certainly, of the seventeen or so potential diseases suggested by our friends at WebMD, MedLine, and the Symptom Checker on the Mayo Clinic’s site, none would be particularly welcome diagnoses. But when compared with the utter lack of diagnosis, at least there would be some comfort in knowing what treatment to pursue, or even that treatment were impossible. In fact, among my many conversations with the sick and dying, I have found ample testimony to this reality: it can be greatly liberating to know that there is nothing you are supposed to be doing about your disease, other than functioning the best you can, while you can, whenever you can.

Sometimes we feel like an imposter,
just because we don't quite measure up
to our perceptions of others.

The Freedom in Naming the Illness

Whatever frustrations I am experiencing regarding my physical health, they have until recently paled in comparison with certain aspects of my mental health. But there has been recent improvement on that front. Of course, we do face the same kinds of frustrations in seeking psychological diagnosis and treatment as we face in trying to see a physician around here. And actually the biggest element in the improvement has been the ability, finally, to name the greatest part of my struggle. In fact, I have found that many write on the subject, especially in regard to those of us pursuing advanced academic degrees. It apparently afflicts doctoral students the worst, not least because we are pursuing what many would call a “terminal” degree. (Though in my case, with a second doctorate still on the horizon…maybe I should call mine merely a “hospice-consult” degree.)

In any case, I strongly identify with what has been labeled “The Imposter Syndrome.” In short, I have allowed myself to vacillate between two aspects of pride. At times, I do overestimate the value of some of my abilities. That mode is actually helpful when called to intervene in crisis and trauma—an intercessor’s confidence is indispensible to those in need. More often, though, I underestimate my value as a person while simultaneously overestimating the eventual reaction people will have “once they realize who I really am.” The nightmare of being “discovered” persists despite the fact that I practice authenticity, transparency, and vulnerability almost constantly, and frequently annoyingly. Not only do I strongly recommend this to others, I sometimes enjoy the shock others experience when I pursue “playing with all the cards face-up on the table.” Not everyone wants to know every thought, every struggle, nor even every victory I experience. But if, in their discomfort with what I choose to share, they are encouraged to live their lives more openly, “being who they are,” then I still feel that even the worst of my “over-sharing” is a benefit to them (fulfilling the spirit and letter of Ephesians 4:29, which has long been a goal of mine).

To sum up, knowing that there is a name for this neurosis means that others experience it, too. It also helps to read the reflections of others so afflicted. The best treatment I have found is to allow myself to say aloud, “This is who I am.” Not to indulge my pride and hold myself in higher esteem than is appropriate, but neither to indulge my pride—just the same—and hold myself in lower esteem than is appropriate. Pride involves too much self-esteem just as much as too little. O, to be Goldilocks! and know what qualifies as being “just right.” But I feel I am getting there.

Even Greater Freedom in Naming My Faith

Now, about the physical disease, whatever it ends up being, about which I would ask you to pray.

You may have noticed that I did not name the symptoms I am experiencing. That is a result of the Pavlovian behavior reinforcement that causes me to wince at even the thought of asking fellow Christians to pray specifically and intelligently for any particular need. If you have never asked for prayer in a public worship service, or even a small study group, then you might be unfamiliar with the pattern. In short, any reassuring follow-up (that would later suggest that people actually had been praying for you) is extremely rare in comparison with experiencing the line that may form or even encircle you after the meeting in which you shared. These are not, generally, formed by people seeking to pray with you in that moment. No, these primarily include the amateur diagnosticians who recognize one or some of your symptoms as having some resemblance to those experienced by their friend or family member. What most often follows is a prescription to engage in and/or avoid whatever treatments or therapies did or did not restore their acquaintance to health. Still, this is far preferable to the gloomy prognosticians who recognize in your symptoms the path to dire consequences that befell their friend or family member. They seem unable to restrain themselves from describing in detail these consequences, whether they involve catastrophic dysfunction, cruel disfigurement, or culmination in death.

What does that have to do with the imposter syndrome? Plenty. Because the identity crisis within Christendom centers on this very issue. Many nominal Christians (i.e., those who claim the title of being “a Christian”) worry, and rightly so, about whether they really are a Christian—especially since there are so many competing definitions of what qualifies one to make such a claim. Usually, the solution to these existential doubts is offered by some well-meaning (or rabidly proselytizing) Christian or other—“If you were attending ‘The (Right) Church,’ then you would not be worried about being ‘A (Right) Christian.’” The correctness of any particular branch of Christianity’s vine, though, is variably defined, depending upon the venue. For some, the right church is a self-help society. Others see their purpose in being a political-action committee, or a moral-crusading cultural influence. I gravitate toward fellowshipping where there is a categorically-oriented doctrinal examination being pursued by a cadre of religious philosophers. But none of this means “we are the right church for you,” much less that you will be “A Right Christian” by attending with us.

So, what does make a church a church, and a Christian a Christian? At the risk of oversimplifying, let me suggest that at its core, no matter what accessorizing any Christian or church may choose as their particular style of “dressing-up” the gospel, we are called to be in a relationship with God through Christ. And if we claim to have a relationship, then we should be most clearly notable in our communication—our constant conversation within the most important relationship we will ever have. Whatever other “imposter” issues I may have, I have no problem, nor lack of confidence in saying, “I am a Christian.” How do I know? I converse with God. I do not merely talk about, nor only to God. But I engage in a dialogue that is enhanced by careful study of God’s word, illuminated as He has promised by His Holy Spirit, and made possible because of the atonement provided through the life, death, resurrection, and intercession of Jesus Christ.

So, if you struggle with the imposter syndrome with regard to your identification as a Christian, simply ask yourself, “How is the conversation going?” (And…when someone asks you to pray for them, remember that they usually mean for you to take up the matter in conversation with God.)

On Attending an Intentional Death: Some things to consider before you invite me to join your friends and family for your premature send-off

If all you can see is death,
then I would suggest you look more closely.

I was recently honored to consult on a blog post by my friend, Paul Louis Metzger, entitled “Lights Out: Shining a Light on Caring for the Dying in a Multi-Faith World.” (It can be found here.) He begins by asking, “What would you do if you were a chaplain or pastor or trusted friend given the honor of caring for someone of another faith tradition who is approaching death?” For some, there would be some complications, or obstacles that might prevent them from doing so. For me? Well, I have cared for many outside my faith community, including some whose beliefs differ greatly from my own. But recently, a similar question has been asked, and I now am the one facing the complications and obstacles.

The question is deceptively simple. Would you attend the patient’s death? The answer should not be all that complicated, either.

Can you make death out of life?
Certainly. But why would you?

After all, I have attended myriad deaths, from a variety of causes, in many different venues. As a hospice chaplain, most of the deaths have been serenely accommodated with a gathering of loved-ones clearly aware of the impending last breath. As a police chaplain and as a pastor, however, I have been present when life ended traumatically, amidst the valiant efforts of emergency medical professionals. In a hospital waiting room, I have notified next-of-kin of their loved-one’s death when it was our own law-enforcement officers who fired the fatal shots. I have left the bedside of the woman wounded by her suicidal son, just long enough to confirm that her husband, in the emergency suite next to hers, had not yet succumbed to his wounds. When he died a short time later, I was there to tell her so. I have participated as a first responder and in critical-incident stress debriefings with witnesses to horrific carnage literally on the front porch of police headquarters. There are more and more scenes that come to mind even as I write this, so before I lose track of my point, let me hope that I have clearly illustrated it. There are very few kinds of death that I have not already witnessed.

So, to my ears, the subtext of the deceptively simple question above is this: “Given that I have attended all these deaths under so many and widely-varied circumstances, why would there be any death from which I would choose to be absent? Especially if it is a patient or parishioner with whom I have an ongoing relationship?”

The complications and obstacles I face occur in the specific context of this simple question. My struggle arises primarily from the fact that I have attended some spectacularly overwhelming non-deaths. Those have included SWAT-calls, hostage rescues, and other interventions where the survival of those involved was far less than guaranteed. I have been present when lives were saved by extraordinary medical interventions. And I have been called to the scene when we simply needed someone to argue in favor of life with someone who was intent on ending their own. And that brings me to the reasons you do not want to invite me to your suicide, physician-assisted or otherwise.

I will try to stop you.

Sometimes what we see is not really life.
So, definitely not a time to choose death.

I was one of the founding members of the board of directors and executive committee of The Suicide Task Force of Larimer County. It later became The Suicide Resource Center. Now, since October, 2011 it has a new name. In order to differentiate themselves from other organizations that want to provide you with the resources by which you may commit suicide, the team is called the Alliance for Suicide Prevention. Due to excellent training, and whatever it is about God’s will that passes for “luck,” as both a police chaplain and as a pastor I have yet to lose the argument on behalf of life. Do not mistake me, though. I have friends and colleagues who have lost that argument, though. They were in attendance at a completed suicide and, had I continued in that field, it would only be a matter of time before I was, too. But in each case, we say and do all we know to prevent that suicide from being completed.

That is what I have done in the past; it is what I will continue to do in the future.

So, imagine for a moment that you are not the dear friend invited to attend, but the patient preparing to implement your legally-protected, physician-prescribed, self-administered, and invariably-lethal solution to an unacceptable life. Try to visualize yourself terminally ill, told that your life retains far too much quantity for the declining level of quality—and that the logical decision is to proactively and preemptively end your life? Do you have that picture of a life-not-worth-living firmly in your mind? Good. Now, consider whether you want me to be there.

Please understand, I would be very honored to receive your invitation to be present in that very special moment. But I would also hope to bring your breakfast in the morning, and to be present with you for many more days, weeks, or months.

Don't fear the reaper, but don't rush the hourglass.
What do you need with all that extra sand?

No matter how convincing the arguments in favor of death may be, I will argue in favor of life. No matter how others seek to terrorize you with wild fantasies of unmitigated agony, I can testify to you that it is only the rarest of patients who choose to experience higher levels of pain as a trade-off against greater awareness of the dying process (or simply being as mentally acute as possible for the visit of one more friend or family member). As a hospice chaplain I have seen the life-enhancement that is possible through palliative care (including psycho-socio-spiritual assistance far beyond what most would imagine could ever be made available in our cost-benefit-ration-driven healthcare system) even when the experience surpasses the worst physical deterioration that suicide advocates promise you. You have the option to accept care that neither prolongs your life nor hastens its end, but helps you to live until you die.

So, yes, please, do invite me to attend your going-away party. Just understand that I will still want to win the argument. I will plan to visit with you some more on the morning after. I will never stop encouraging you to give life one more try.

“Ask Not What Your Current State Has Done TO You” – Advocating FOR the State of Jefferson, not just AGAINST the states of California and Oregon

I live in what may one day become the fifty-first of these United States of America. Many of us here in Northern California, along with many others in Southern Oregon, display and discuss our support for the as-yet-mythical State of Jefferson. Why? Because…well, there are lots of reasons. We don’t want our economies, schools, taxes, resources, and lives controlled by the population masses in Los Angeles or Portland, or by the litigators and legislators in Salem or Sacramento.

Just off I-5 in Siskiyou County, California

Signage painted onto barns and sheds, referendums on county ballots, an official newspaper, Jefferson Public Radio and myriad green-and-gold flags, patches and bumper-stickers proclaim our desire for deliverance from the double-cross, the ebb-but-not-flow that drains our resources without ever surging back by way of benefits.

We know what it is we are against. We know what we advocate in favor of, too. We advocate in favor of being delivered from what is so that we can…well, do something else. Not that we have a clear vision of what that something else is, of course. But first, let’s get rid of what is, and then we’ll be able to figure out what we want to have instead.

Official Newspaper of the State of Jefferson

There is a certain logic to this process, of course. But it is the same logic by which The Arab Spring followed the pattern established in Iraq, Iron, Afghanistan, and too many other destabilized countries and regimes to count. What steps into the vacuum when the status quo, however detrimental to the populace it may be, is removed without a clear vision for what will be once what is has been destroyed.

So, my fellow citizens of the future State of Jefferson, here is what I advocate: that before we destroy our ties with what is, however egregiously the cost continues to be exacted, let us first determine what it is that we want to be instead. Only then is there a hope of creating a state where our resources are appropriately valued, wisely conserved and, when used, remunerated equitably.    

Are you a Jeffersonian? If so,
what does that mean to you?

I would also suggest some guidelines. Where we see arbitrary injustice, inflexible retribution, and arrogant profiteering, even among our compatriots, it is not enough merely to oppose the too-familiar pattern. The example is ingrained deeply and must also prompt a positive alternative if we intend to do other than meet one injustice with another, repeat one retribution in its opposite, and arrogantly reclaim profits as our due from those who have profited from our resources in the past.

The time to begin a policy of reversing rather than repeating the sins of our current overlords must come long before the inauguration of the fifty-first of these United States of America. The time for justice, mercy, and humility is now, even as we seek the deliverance that unites us. Because we are not called to do unto others as they have done unto us. In a more recent translation, the admonition that results in a unified brotherhood reads, “Treat others the same way you want them to treat you.”

Toward Building a Better Human Race: Two Key Prerequisites to Effective Eugenics

In a recent post to his blog, “Uncommon God, Common Good,” Paul Louis Metzger asks in the title “Should Ethics Be ‘Biologicized’? What Might that Mean for Eugenics?” It’s a good question. But even for those of us who understand that ethics involves determining what is good or bad and what our moral obligations are, grasping the idea that they could be “biologicized” would require a careful reading of Dr. Metzger’s post (which I recommend, and it can be found here). For now, I hope only to discuss, as briefly as possible, the challenges posed by eugenics, especially with regard to my particular ministry context.

“Eugenics” is a term coined in 1883 to describe (according to Merriam-Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary—Eleventh Edition) the “science that deals with the improvement (as by control of human mating) of hereditary qualities of a race or breed.” In some instances, as with Germany in the late-1930s and early-1940s, eugenics sought to improve the human race as noted in Webster’s definition: by controlling who was allowed to procreate with whom. This selective breeding was enforced by prohibiting intermarriage between various groups in order to maintain purity in the traits identified as belonging to the Aryan race.

Others more recently have identified as eugenics a practice of unnatural selection subsequent to mating, but prior to the birth of a child. It is becoming more common to abort pregnancies when particular traits are identified as potentially diminishing the quality of the child’s (or parent’s) life. The range of factors seen as being sufficient to warrant these actions include not only what some call “birth defects,” but also the selective elimination intended to provide a couple with either a male or female child as they prefer.

In my ministry context, however, what is more often discussed is not the question of significantly improving the quality of life in the coming generations. Among hospice personnel, we face challenges from those who would define what constitutes an insufficient quality of life in members of the current generation. We do not tend to identify this as eugenics, though, even though the proponents of pre-emptively ended the lives of human persons intend to elevate us to a “good race” (with eu = Greek for good, and genea = Greek for race or generation), at least for those of us with sufficient “quality of life” to survive. Instead, those promoting the removal of living human persons claim to be motivated by a vision for euthanasia: ensuring a good death for those adjudged to be living a bad life.

Whether ostensibly prohibiting procreation by outlawing certain marriages, or preempting pregnancy’s natural outcome by killing unborn human persons, or prematurely ending the lives of the infirm, ill, injured, or otherwise disenfranchised, there are two key prerequisites to enacting effective eugenics outside the ethical considerations that constrain science to be practiced for the common good.

First, we would have to accept the dangerous optimism of democratically-governed science. We would have to believe that the majority of voting citizens were well-informed enough to look beyond the corporately-sponsored marketing messages and exercise some control over otherwise unabated experimentation. Only then could we do as Metzger’s subject, Dr. Edward O. Wilson recommends and remove ethics “temporarily from the hands of philosophers” to be “biologicized.” Eugenics necessitates that we allow those who can (or are willing to try) to do as they wish, without interference from society’s professional thinkers, but still under the influence of our nation’s diminishing ranks of voters.

"They told us to just sit back and watch what happens."

Second, for eugenics to be enacted effectively, we would have to continue to promote the fantasy that love and hate are merely emotional conditions and thus uncontrollable responses for which we bear no personal responsibility or obligation. That way, when we find that we do not have a fond sense of affection toward total strangers who would be eliminated from society, we can excuse our hateful acts of willful indifference as having just as little effect as our sentimentality would. Somehow we would have to allow our hatred to still remain an action, while our love became an even greater illusion. But we have managed it so far.

What would be the results of this unrestrained experimentation and willful indifference toward others? Eugenics seeks the elimination of those unfit to reproduce, or whose mothers are unwilling to nurture them until birth, or all of us who will eventually be in a position to continue usurping resources from the healthier members of the population. If more effectively pursued than is currently the case, then we would be left with an ever-increasing percentage of society for whom anything less than robust health, strength, wealth, and youth would put them at risk. But since that last category ebbs-away from each of us even now, perhaps we might want to steer a better course while there are still enough of us to object to eugenics.