So here’s where we left off. I mentally broke down on the anniversary of my mom’s passing and completely collapsed, both physically and emotionally. I had finally lost control and was lying on the floor crying, yet somehow knew this was exactly where I was supposed to be. Ironic. I stood up a few hours later and was feeling brand new….yah okay definitely not, that would’ve been nice though. I actually stood up and then sat right back down, head in my hands crying for God knows how long. When I eventually stopped, a simple thought crossed through my mind that I had longed to hear for so many years:
Everything would be okay. I would be okay. I am not forgotten and I am not skipped over.
I quickly wrote this down and taped it to my mirror. I didn’t know where I would go from here, but I knew this was my new truth.
It took me a few days before I told someone what happened. I figured I could deal with it myself and move on as I had always done in the past. What I didn’t take into account was how my mental capacity was so low I couldn’t handle reading even a few work emails before I would feel overwhelmed to the point of crying. My phone would ring and I’d jump up startled. It was as if my senses were on overload and everything felt way too strong. I spent about three days straight listening to podcasts from pastors and speakers who talked about mental health. I bought 5 books about emotional health and listened to countless worship albums to calm myself down. You’d think I would have recognized that sleep was what I needed, but I was determined to figure out what was wrong with me, hear about other peoples stories of overcoming, and listen to worship music to find peace. This was most certainly the way to health, right? I’d be fine in about a week and my life would go back to normal.
Yahhhh, no. God had other plans. He did NOT cause this (I am much against the belief that God will cause bad things to happen to *teach* a lesson) but He certainly had plans to use it for my healing. I consider knowledge to be great wealth so when I don’t know how to do something, I take it into my hands to figure it out. I feel powerless if this isn’t possible or if I don’t have a backup plan. In this case, I was so broken down that there was only one option that could get me out and I was not keen on it: Ask for help. I needed to tell people what had happened and ask for help. So, I mustered up all my strength and told my friend who was a therapist what had happened. She initially counseled me, but I would need to find someone local and more permanent for my long term needs. Even though ‘mental breakdown’ and ‘nervous breakdown’ aren’t official medical terms, I appreciated my therapist who acknowledged that this was what I was experiencing along with panic attacks and other emotional events. There were people I told who would respond, “Oh you’re just stressed you’ll be fine. Just stick to Jesus”. I’m sure they meant no harm but this doesn’t help because it downplays what you are going through and you in turn don’t actually deal with your emotional wounds. Was I stressed out? Ofcourse. Was it something a little more? Yes. When I agreed I needed to make changes in my life, this was the first step to healing. I made a lot of changes…some of them very painful, many of which I am going to share with you tomorrow in part 3.
I lost everything and gained peace.
*If you feel like you are struggling with anxiety or depression, don’t keep it a secret. Tell someone, tell more than one. It is important to get help so you don’t have to fight this battle alone. I applaud you.