This year can best be summed up in two words: fear and
anxiety. Oh sure. I could certainly use prettier synonyms to dull the reality of those two
simple words: apprehension, disquietude, unease, consternation, etc. But the
fact of the matter here is that I have spent this entire year in fear of
basically everything, which presents a huge problem for me, or, perhaps more
accurately, a conflict of interests. See, as a Christian, I am constantly
reminded of how I need not fear anything, for I am in the infinitely capable
hands of my loving Father who is working things for my good, working to prosper
me according to His plan and setting me on a course far better than anything I
could plan.
All of that is awesome, and I believe it all to be true. I
also believe that I have a major struggle with anxiety and, at times,
depression. I can vividly remember my first panic attack. I was five. We had
just moved into our new house, and my parents had put me to bed and had left to
take an evening walk as they often did after moving into this neighborhood. We
lived on a quiet street about an 1/8 of a mile long, and our house sat at the
start of the cul-de-sac. I remember seeing them start to walk away and pleading
out my window for them to stay. I was told to go back to bed, that they would
return soon, and that everything would be fine. And I’m sure to most children
it would have been. For me it wasn't. I began crying uncontrollably and hyperventilating.
I couldn't stop. I was beside myself. It was utterly irrational. They were
probably gone a total of 10-15 minutes, but it seemed like an eternity, and
when they finally did come home, I was borderline inconsolable. I've struggled
with anxiety and depression to varying degrees ever since.
I know that anxiety and depression are two topics that most
people don’t like to discuss. They are also two topics that unless a person has
either experienced or witnessed can be easily dismissed. I once dated a boy who
was convinced that changing my diet and going for a walk would fix my
depression entirely. I wanted to punch him in the face. He had never had a
panic attack. He didn't know what it felt like to have your chest constrict and
your hands and face go numb. He didn't know what it was like to cry uncontrollably
over something that was probably nothing because you simply couldn't stop the
tears from coming. He didn't know what it felt like to not be able to find your
breath.
I've experienced several panic attacks this year, most of
them over something that, at the time, I felt was likely the end of the world.
Most were related to tests I've had. This year has been one health issue after
another. The rational part of me knows that most of the issues I've experienced
are probably stress induced, which seems so utterly unfair. There is something
infinitely terrifying about waiting on the results of a brain scan done to
determine the cause of the random numbness you've been experiencing in your
face and head for months… There is also a special place in Hell for the doctor
who tells you that you either have an “infection or cancer,” when in reality it’s
just the ovarian cysts you've been dealing with for the last ten months
together… But I digress.
Let me get to my point. (I know. I know. “Finally!” you’re
saying.) As scary and real as this year has been, it has also led me to examine
the spiritual conflict that takes place when fear and anxiety collide with
trust. You see, I know that God desires so much more for me than this. I know
that it pains Him deeply to see me struggle and worry so much over things that
even I know are entirely beyond my control. I know it’s wrong for me to think
that by worrying I will fix anything on my own and that by doing so, I exhibit
a lack of faithfulness in the One who knows me best and holds me and all of my fears
in His hands.
He knows. Every hurt, every tear, every bad situation that
has perpetuated this fear of sickness and disease. He knows. Every stress
induced health issue. Every panic attack. Every fear. He knows. And He’s
calling me to so much more.
My prayers for the next year revolve mostly around embracing
Truth, if for no other reason than that I am totally exhausted. Every day I encounter
stories of people, friends, co-workers, alumni, who have been stricken with
some life-or-death disease. And every day my fears are fanned into flames anew.
I can’t continue to live like this. Something has got to give, and it has to be
me. I have to give up my fears and worried thoughts, my pain and dreams. I have
to start believing the verses I quote in my head in my heart too. To quote the
year’s most popular lyric, I really have to just “let it go.”
Do I think that by doing this all of my problems will be
solved? No. Do I think that by doing this I can flush my anxiety and depression
medication down the toilet? Absolutely not. (Seriously. No one wants that.) But
I do believe that by capturing the worries and presenting them to the God who
loves me, I may finally begin to start living again, and at this point, that’s
all I really desire. Because no matter where or how I end up in this life, His
will will never lead me to a place where His grace will not sustain me.
Happy New Year, y'all.
- J.
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