Proverbs 13:12 says "Hope deferred makes the heart sick..." My heart is sick. For two years, I have searched for answers to anxiety and sit here tonight feeling worse than ever. How long must I suffer, and simultaneously hope that I will heal? Crossing a busy street makes my throat clench up. Getting out of bed is a monumental task some days. The fear that people close to me will reject and leave me is more than I can take.
Two years seems like a silly, short amount of time compared to what others struggle through. I guess I'm weak. Call me crazy, but I don't want another day of this hell. I am losing all I care about because I can't get the hang of believing the truth or memorizing enough verses. Read this book, people will say. Or, pray. Prayer will solve it. Try medicine. See a counselor. A psychiatrist. Exercise. Meditate. Take vitamins. Done, done, done, done.
I'm writing this because I'm angry and it feels like everything good is slipping away from me. I don't want anyone to tell me what to do. I want someone out there to tell me that they get it. That they too have been here and felt this.
I know this post is raw, but it needs to be. When I looked tonight, I couldn't find a blog with someone who was "in the sh**", as my friend would say. I hope that someone will find me and say, here's someone in the sh** with me.
I have been searching for answers to this raw, ripping thing with gnashing teeth and dark shadows called anxiety, too, for about five years. Body chemistry: check. Therapy: check. Prayer ministry: check. Volunteering (as in, trying to not focus on mySELF for a change): check. And yet, this beast keeps tearing up my life, violently pushing away the very things I fear I will never get (this, presumably, is its fuel). I am here. In the shit. With you.
ReplyDeleteThank you for writing. Thank you for understanding and sitting with me here. I'm both saddened and encouraged that there are people like you who can so aptly put these feelings into words from experience. I'm finding Him very near and very faithful in this place. I am praying for you and believing for more than we can imagine. -Brooke
DeleteRe-reading my comment... I meant that the sadness comes from knowing that anyone has to understand this kind of pain from personal experience.
DeleteI am in the shit with you. I have been struggling with anxiety since I was little, and for a long, long time, I thought that was my "normal." I can feel it happen. My mind starts revving up, the anxiety mounts, and no amount of "positive talk" can stop it. I can have two different thoughts in my brain at the same time. I tell myself I'm good, and strong, and okay, and my brain just keeps spinning, telling me everyone is mad at me, no one likes, me, and I'm going to be alone all my life. On a cognitive level, I know this is not true, but emotionally, I'm right there. In the shit. It's like there's a black hole inside of me that no one can see but me. I can be happy and calm on the outside, but inside I'm a roiling storm. Sometimes the wind is so loud in my head.
ReplyDeleteI am one of the lucky ones - right now I am on some medication that seems to be helping, but I still feel that black hole in there, it's just dormant at the moment. But I'm okay enough right this moment to tell you - we are not alone.
Hi, thank you for sharing your story here. Those revved up thoughts feel so out of control, don't they? Praise God that you found some relief in helpful medication. Someone once told me that anxiety is harder than just having a broken arm or something because people can't see the cast as a signal that you are healing. It's an inside struggle and one that requires just as much space and grace, but we often have to speak out our need for that - tell people, "I have this cast inside and I'm healing, so I am taking it easy for awhile." I pray that you will find grace in abundant measure as you walk each day. -Brooke
DeleteI’m there with you. I, too, have lived with intermittent depression and constant anxiety since I was little. I grew up feeling selfish and self-absorbed because I couldn’t quit thinking about how badly I felt. My mom would tell me I didn’t know how good I had it and there were lots of people who had it so much worse. I frequently worried about being left by my mom, my one remaining parent (dad left when I was 5). I needed to please everyone so I wouldn’t be rejected and left alone. That led to unfortunate experiences that made my anxieties and depressive episodes worse.
ReplyDeleteThe difficult thing we face is there is no one pill or cure that works for everyone. Each person finds her own road out. I have learned to accept the black hole that hangs out nearby, but does not always threaten me. I have learned that we are not weak and we are not broken. We live with a physical ailment that happens to affect our brains, instead of our livers or pancreas or lungs. I recognize that my anxieties and depression are symptoms of my ailment, not signs that I am failing as a human being.
I understand you. I recognize your pain and confusion and frustration. My heart breaks for you as you find your road out. It can feel fruitless and overwhelming. There are lots of us on that road with you. Keep that in mind as you move forward. Much love.
Hello, I'm really glad you wrote. It's so good to hear other people's experiences. Anxiety and depression look different for everyone, but the shared struggle reminds me that I'm not alone. Amen to the truth that we are not failing as human beings! That we are accepted and loved and valued for all eternity, just because God made us and chooses us as His own. Thank you for spurring me and others on. God bless you! -Brooke
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