I suppose I have been trying to find stable ground this week. It felt like I had completely lost touch with reality and it was all my fault.
I had a long couple days leading up to Sunday. I was in an advert, had first aid training, did my normal weekly things and went out late Sunday night. I pushed harder than normal. My anxiety was rising – but that was not something I needed to worry about anymore. I guess it all just caught up with me on Sunday.
During the church meeting, I felt my anxiety rise very high and fled to the bathroom to calm down. I was shaking and hyperventilating. I decided to power through and went into the meeting again.
Power through, nothing will happen. You are just tired. You haven’t eaten or drunk water. But, nothing will happen.
The meeting ended, but the weight sunk heavier onto my shoulders. In the space of ten minutes; I hugged a few amazing people, began passing out on one of them, began getting disoriented and then was lead out to the side of the hall. I was fed water and biscuits. My sister, brother and a close friend came to my side.
And then. I felt it. Panic.
No, no, no… What is going on? So confused. Didn’t eat.
Oh no, this is setting off a panic attack.
“Get me out of here.”
My friend took me away. panic
I don’t know how long the panic lasted, but when the panic stopped I felt destroyed. My mind lost touch with reality, my world had fallen apart. I had done this, I had pushed too hard. This is my fault. It has been months. My family will know it happened. They will know I broke.
Two ladies took care of me through the afternoon and spoke the truth into my confusion holding me steady as I reeled from the shock and sunk into a depression.
I was shattered, disoriented and hurting. Could the Lord hear my cry?
I have now spent the last couple days coming back to reality. Mourning what felt like a huge step back. I know it doesn’t make complete sense why this thing hit me so hard – but it did.
God pulled me up into His arms and wiped away the confusion. God showed me this wasn’t the first step back into the pit. Yes, it was hard, but, it was not the beginning of the end (yes, my depressed brain is highly melodramatic).
I don’t know, I guess I just don’t know what I would do without God. The number of times He takes my mortal, pathetic butt and pulls me straight, washes the lies out of my eyes and loves me tenderly.
I was flicked off my happy ‘I’m on top of the world’ and reminded how desperate I am for God. How I cannot live without Him, not even a moment. I cannot survive without Him.
Rattle my mind and feed me lies,
Turn a knob and alter my chemistry,
Disorientate and panic me and I flee.
Who will save me?
Then comes He who holds me near.
Then comes He who turns me right side up
Then comes He who gives me truth
Then comes He who just loves me.
Then comes He who is good.
He is so good.