running from… what?

Honestly, I miss my anxiety and depression. I got used to their presence. They have been by my side many nights since I was thirteen. In the last eight months, they have all but been my life. I drew comfort from my pain and suffering. Now it isn’t here in the same force as it was. I haven’t had a full-blown panic attack in two months and I am listless. My outward display of panic attacks was the result of a deeper turmoil and now that it is soothed; I am… just here…

I am unsettled and not sure what to do. There is school, but I am afraid to return to it. It’s monotonous and difficult routine is a reminder of the last five years of suffering I do not want to repeat. I don’t want to see failure. I don’t want to see the repeated pattern of try and fail every single day. I want something new.

I have spent the last few days drifting on a lukewarm wind. I lay on my bed and drifted in dreams or distracted myself in media. It is as though I am on the edge of something. Near, but not there yet. Impatience and fear are poking me in the back. I have not sought the Lord’s comfort.

I have run from the voice of the Holy Spirit because I don’t want to hear Him speak. I do, but I don’t want to see God’s disappointment in the lethargic days I ride without resistance. But this is not my God. That is the image I had of God in years long gone by. He knows me to my core. I don’t have to prove anything, but I want to.

I want to apologise and hide from my own stench. The legalistic rules of my younger years repeat themselves in my head.

Read your Bible or…

Talk to God every day or…

Spend time in prayer or…

Do well or…

Don’t be lazy or…

Don’t show your flaws or…

Do it this way or…

I have tried losing myself in memories of this year’s nightmare. Which makes no sense, except for that I find comfort in its familiarity.
My mind is my own far escape. The depth of its imaginary constructions in the sky draws me into a world that is not my own; whether it be one of good or bad. I repeat hard times in new scenarios; almost seeking life in its pain. It is something I have done as far back as I can remember.
However, I do know the truth. If the Lord has used this year to teach me anything it is that I can find comfort in Him. All my troubles can be cast upon Him. Running away and bottling feelings are only going to set another time bomb that will explode. God is my release.
My heart softens and weeps at each remembrance of the Lord’s comfort. Each sweet time the Father has pulled me into His lap and kissed away my tears. Each reassurance that His love is greater than my fear. Each time His love has soothed my soul as I have looked longingly into His eyes. God captures the thoughts of my mind and holds them near. He comforts me just as Paul says He does to the Corinthians.

   Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God. For just as we share abundantly in the sufferings of Christ, so also our comfort abounds through Christ. If we are distressed, it is for your comfort and salvation; if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which produces in you patient endurance of the same sufferings we suffer. And our hope for you is firm, because we know that just as you share in our sufferings, so also you share in our comfort.  2 Corinthians 1:3-7

God reached out and heard my cry. I confessed and repented. My body surrendered. I knelt on the floor in absolute need of my God.


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