A Snapshot of Anxiety
So.
The other day I learned how far I have come since my last time struggling with anxiety. I was shocked to discover that I hadn't progressed one single centimetre from that horrible place. Not one.
It was like a switch that transported me instantly back in time to almost three years ago when I would lie down for afternoon rest time with trepidation and most days I would be terrified to move because all I could think about was harming myself.
When everything seemed to be such a big effort. Making dinner. Grocery shopping. Putting my feet on the floor first thing in the morning. Hugging my children.
When I would have moments of really bad dejavu where my head would swim and my limbs would go hot and tingly and I couldn't stand up straight until it was over. Then I'd be even more tired.
When I would be so ridiculously tired from being heavily pregnant with my fourth baby and coping with all that was placed on my head and my heart yet still unable to fall asleep at night.
When I felt like there was a pane of glass between me and everyone else. Like I was some sort of alien in amongst the happy humans.
When my only prayer to God was falling into his presence and just lying there, unable to speak, unable to cry, unable to do anything except just land in front of Him with my heart saying, "I'm here. I'm sorry."
When I didn't know one single thing I could do to help myself get out of the hole. I was lost.
That time eventually passed and I realised that I no longer felt the same way. Things got better. Our beautiful baby arrived and despite the sleepless nights and being tired, I had no thoughts of self-harm, no dejavu episodes and I was happy. Tired, but going OK. We moved house and life was exciting with making new friends and starting new schools and building our very first home. Baby number five arrived and everything was fine.
Until last week.
Like a sickening switch, I know the exact moment I was shoved back into that hole of anxiety. It's something I can't control, which makes it very, very difficult to manage. It's been with me since childhood. It's like a massive knot that I can't undo, no matter how frantically I try to think it, pray it, work it, calm it, speak over it.......
I'm reminded once again of the power I have as a parent over my children. Every single thing I do speaks volumes to them about who they are and their value. I am determined that my children will be so different to me. They will be loved. Physically affirmed. Blessed. Strong in the knowledge that they are God's own and precious in His sight.
I'm not saying that they'll never know anxiety, depression or extreme mental and emotional fatigue. I'm saying that they won't get it from me........and I will be there for them, rather than having been the cause of any distress or trauma.
This week has been better. I'm very, very thankful that I've been seeing a therapist for childhood issues already and so I know that all I'm experiencing is a response to severe stress. I'm very, very thankful for God's word, particularly in Deuteronomy, where Moses reminds the Israelites that God will be with them as they cross into the land He has promised them. He reminds them that God is faithful and they just need to keep going. One step at a time. I'm very, very thankful for my beautiful prayer warriors and above all, for God's wonderful provision of a supportive and loving husband.
This is a snapshot of me at the moment.
I'm not after sympathy or encouragement. I don't want to talk about it with everyone. I'm not writing this to get attention. I know that there's heaps of others who are worse off than me. I want you to know that we all have struggles. We all experience pain and despair and trauma. It's real. It sucks. But God is there with you. He's right there. You are not alone. Cling to the good people and good things in your life and thank God for them. Talk to someone mature and responsible about the rest.
Be a good parent and change the future for good. Don't pass on trauma to the next generation. Be the change.
The other day I learned how far I have come since my last time struggling with anxiety. I was shocked to discover that I hadn't progressed one single centimetre from that horrible place. Not one.
It was like a switch that transported me instantly back in time to almost three years ago when I would lie down for afternoon rest time with trepidation and most days I would be terrified to move because all I could think about was harming myself.
When everything seemed to be such a big effort. Making dinner. Grocery shopping. Putting my feet on the floor first thing in the morning. Hugging my children.
When I would have moments of really bad dejavu where my head would swim and my limbs would go hot and tingly and I couldn't stand up straight until it was over. Then I'd be even more tired.
When I would be so ridiculously tired from being heavily pregnant with my fourth baby and coping with all that was placed on my head and my heart yet still unable to fall asleep at night.
When I felt like there was a pane of glass between me and everyone else. Like I was some sort of alien in amongst the happy humans.
When my only prayer to God was falling into his presence and just lying there, unable to speak, unable to cry, unable to do anything except just land in front of Him with my heart saying, "I'm here. I'm sorry."
When I didn't know one single thing I could do to help myself get out of the hole. I was lost.
That time eventually passed and I realised that I no longer felt the same way. Things got better. Our beautiful baby arrived and despite the sleepless nights and being tired, I had no thoughts of self-harm, no dejavu episodes and I was happy. Tired, but going OK. We moved house and life was exciting with making new friends and starting new schools and building our very first home. Baby number five arrived and everything was fine.
Until last week.
Like a sickening switch, I know the exact moment I was shoved back into that hole of anxiety. It's something I can't control, which makes it very, very difficult to manage. It's been with me since childhood. It's like a massive knot that I can't undo, no matter how frantically I try to think it, pray it, work it, calm it, speak over it.......
I'm reminded once again of the power I have as a parent over my children. Every single thing I do speaks volumes to them about who they are and their value. I am determined that my children will be so different to me. They will be loved. Physically affirmed. Blessed. Strong in the knowledge that they are God's own and precious in His sight.
I'm not saying that they'll never know anxiety, depression or extreme mental and emotional fatigue. I'm saying that they won't get it from me........and I will be there for them, rather than having been the cause of any distress or trauma.
This week has been better. I'm very, very thankful that I've been seeing a therapist for childhood issues already and so I know that all I'm experiencing is a response to severe stress. I'm very, very thankful for God's word, particularly in Deuteronomy, where Moses reminds the Israelites that God will be with them as they cross into the land He has promised them. He reminds them that God is faithful and they just need to keep going. One step at a time. I'm very, very thankful for my beautiful prayer warriors and above all, for God's wonderful provision of a supportive and loving husband.
This is a snapshot of me at the moment.
I'm not after sympathy or encouragement. I don't want to talk about it with everyone. I'm not writing this to get attention. I know that there's heaps of others who are worse off than me. I want you to know that we all have struggles. We all experience pain and despair and trauma. It's real. It sucks. But God is there with you. He's right there. You are not alone. Cling to the good people and good things in your life and thank God for them. Talk to someone mature and responsible about the rest.
Be a good parent and change the future for good. Don't pass on trauma to the next generation. Be the change.
Thankyou for your honesty. You may not realise the power of what you said, but you sharing that with me/us felt like God just gave me a cuddle and said "not only do I know what you're going through, but so does she"
ReplyDeleteI wonder if those who hurt us as children and caused these learned behaviours in us will ever know the power they had. Thank God His power is greater!
Thanks, Roslyn. I'm so glad this post helps! I often wonder about others who have been through worse than me and how their learned behaviours must be so much more devastating than what I experience.
ReplyDeleteI definitely know how it feels and you're not alone - God is there firstly and then there's friends as well (and family - my children and husband are part of my therapy, I reckon!).
God bless you, my friend xx