Living with Anxiety
Anxiety is like an annoying pimple that pops up in the middle of your face right before anything important happens to you. You can't pop it or it'll leave a big red mark and you can't cover it up because it's so large. I have sadly suffered from both pimples and anxiety.
I was diagnosed with an anxiety and a panic disorder in the Spring of my junior year. I had been struggling with depression so badly that I had planned out more than a dozen ways to kill myself. Finally I noticed too many changes in my pedestrian life to continue on in a healthy manner.
Talking about my problems was therapeutic because it drew them out, like drawing an enemy on the battle field out of hiding. But, if the enemy isn't immediately shot, he'll shoot you. My anxiety, panic, and depression was never shot- just pointed out.
When I finally addressed that, yes, I had a problem, I went to the doctor in search for an easy cure. Sadly, because the anxiety and depression had taken over my life, there was no easy cure for my new 'lifestyle'. My doctor diagnosed me using really horrible words like 'monster' and 'crazy'. My panic levels were seven times the normal level for a panic disorder. My doctor couldn't believe I was living with it, which translated to me that it would have been perfectly fine to have killed myself due to the battle I had to fight everyday just to function.
My brain does a terrible thing by taking everything ever said to me and multiplying the guilt, finding the flaws called out in myself, and destroying my soul by analysis. I don't really know what was wrong with me- just knew that at the drop of a pencil or as soon as a harsh word was spoken, my heart sped up and my hands searched for a blade.
Once when I was cast in a show and I felt like I was being treated unfairly, I locked myself in my closet and attempted to hang myself by a belt. Somehow, I've lived through all the wars I've fought against myself.
The enemy does strange things when you let him have a hold of you. Satan told me a slew of lies and convinced me that I wasn't worthy to live another day. Because I had self harmed so much, his lies came in that another cut wouldn't matter, so what if I had belt marks on my neck from all the times I'd tried to cut off my circulation?
I fell into a life of sin. Satan had my attention and he grabbed that. Everything I did glorified evil and not my God. I can honestly say I shouldn't have lived past that time in my life. Every waking moment I wanted to end myself.
Yes, this story has a happy ending. It's been seven months since I picked up a blade. The only time I grab a belt is when my pants are too big around my waist. I praise God everyday for not only delivering me from the Valley of the Shadow of Death, but sending angels to help me. Post November I have been bombarded with hundreds of Christ centered friends who are more than willing to walk through life with me and discuss all the good our Heavenly Father has done to transform our lives.
My life has changed so much in the seven months since I stopped listening to the Devil's lies. God has turned around all of my struggles and made them into a testimony. Nothing is so powerful as hearing a first hand story of the climb from darkness into light. I hope my experience helps everyone who reads this know that God is good all the time and all the time God is good.