Hi, my name is Shannon Blosser. I am a pastor, and I have post-traumatic stress disorder.
That may sound like the beginning of a recovery conversation, but, to be honest, it is who I am. I am a pastor, yes, but I am one who is learning more about myself and understanding how I have this condition that can bring out the best and worst in me.
The Mayo Clinic defines PTSD as a “mental health condition caused by a traumatic event – either being part of it or witnessing it.” Even more, a 2024 study by Boston University suggests that up to one-third of all clergy members meet the clinical diagnosis for PTSD.
I’m in good company.
For me, my PTSD, or what led to my diagnosis, was a series of traumatic events that have shaped and defined my life. Throughout my life, I have been part of a series of traumatic moments that have affected how I view myself and how I perceive others see me. Trauma has been a part of my life from the earliest age, and most of my memories are not of fun, happy, and carefree moments. They are, instead, the replaying of traumatic moments, where I relive every moment, feel every emotion, and can sense myself back in those places of deep pain all over again.
Pastoring is not for the faint of heart. Living a life that has been defined by trauma after trauma after trauma is not great, either. As I am learning more about how trauma has affected me, I’ve learned how my anxiety, loss of short-term memory, and fear of being in crowds are not aspects of “me being me,” but an outgrowth of living a traumatic life. Learning how to cope and adjust through that has been a daily challenge of acceptance, breathing, and, yes, the slow walk to forgiveness.
Part of that adjustment has been recognizing that, yes, I can pastor while recovering from PTSD. When I was given the diagnosis, the first thing I thought was my own fear that this would make me unacceptable to serve God and others. How could God allow someone so broken, I thought, to continue to serve people who needed hope? That this would be the bridge too far, and I would need to find something else.
Then, my counselor reminded me of something. This is what makes me who I am. It gives me a way to share hope with others.
She is right. Hope comes in knowing that we are not alone, and that there are others who have walked through the same “valley of darkness” that we have navigated. That is the hope story I believe God calls me to share as a pastor living with PTSD.
I’ve always valued that part of my unique giftedness for ministry is the ability to relate to struggles. There is not much that someone can talk to me about that I haven’t already experienced in my own life. Going through a divorce? I have, too. Abused as a child? Sadly, so was I. Unwanted by your family? I feel that pain, because I live it. Hit rock bottom? I have multiple t-shirts from that place. Felt alone after a loved one’s death? I am there. Struggling with raising a child with disabilities? I live it daily.
There is a peace of mind that comes from being vulnerable with people who have lived that story we are living. It reminds us that we are not alone, and through sharing our stories of hope and healing, we can grow and learn from one another.
I do not think my traumatic life is a blessing. I would not wish any of the pain that I have experienced on anyone. That being said, I think we can use our pains and the scars that have formed to point people to the healing that God does and is doing in our lives.
For that, I am thankful for being a pastor with PTSD, if for no other reason than I can share with someone else, “I know. I’m there with you, and I know what it is like to hurt.”
Shannon Blosser 