It’s hard to write about my anxiety and depression when it’s so well-controlled by medication. I don’t have “all the feels.” I can’t imagine what it was like to hate my life so much. I’m—a different person.
For a few weeks, I thought it was. I felt comfortable and in control. Lately that confidence has been stripped away and once again, I am left raw from the panic and tense from the fear.
No, seriously—every muscle in my body is tight. I’m back to battling anxiety and depression.
This didn’t come out of nowhere. It was once again triggered by vomit. There is a nasty stomach bug hitting our area. Realistically, it’s a 24-hour thing. We are all healthy enough to survive a few hours of vomiting.
In my head, there is no escape. We will all get sick. We will be sick forever. There will never be any reprieve and no day will ever be normal again.
There are days when I can’t face the daytime hours because I know they bring the evening and night. What if someone gets sick in the night? What if someone gets sick in the day? What if I get sick? Who will do the stuff I do? I can’t plan to do anything because someone might get sick before or during the activity. Or they might come in contact with germs that make them sick after. How will we ever get out of the house again? How will we go camping? How will they visit friends? Is this weather a turning point? Will opening our windows help? Will staying home be the way to go?
I even completely irrationally considered homeschooling my children for half a second. Oh, that can NEVER HAPPEN.
I know that one day, hopefully soon, I will be out of this realm of darkness. In other words, this too shall pass. I will feel confident again. I will feel like I can move again. I will not be paralyzed by fear.
At least until the next wave of insecurity and anxiety hit.
How much longer can my body survive these waves of chaos and calm? Is this like a cancer? Will it kill me? My muscles are hard as rocks. My body feels like it weighs a million tons. Getting out of bed or off the couch is a colossal effort. Being sedated only makes that worse.
I have had few good days in recent weeks. I consider it a success if I record 7,000 steps on my FitBit.
Am I dying?
The only thing that will make me feel better is answers. Answers to every question I posed above. That is the one thing that no one can give me–because no one knows.
That’s when I need to press deeper into my faith and give God control.
Our pastor recently said during a sermon, “To form a Christ-centered life we have to put ourselves in places where we have to be fully dependent on God.”
He referenced the disciples on the boat. Jesus told Peter to get out of the boat and walk to him. On the water.
And Peter got out of the boat, full trusting God, and walked on water.
It wasn’t until he saw the storm around him and saw the waves that he took his eyes off Jesus and began to sink.
I’m sinking. I can’t focus on anything but my fear of the unknown and my questions. As if sitting and thinking about them will somehow make it all go away.
Aside from the illustration above, Jesus also said, “Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life. Since you cannot do this very little thing, why do you worry about the rest?” Luke 12:25-26
I need to find a place where the Word combats the anxiety. A place of full engagement. A place of safety. A place where I can enjoy my life, serve my Lord and love my family.
Pray for me as I move forward into this. Searching for healing. Praying for mercy. Longing to be free of the clutches of gripping fear.
While I may never find that here on Earth, I know that some day, this too shall pass—for good—in the shining glory of God’s kingdom.
For that, I am very THANKFUL.