Their arrival is inevitable.

And their onslaught is brutal.

Sometimes we can see them coming and are able to predict the approximate time of their arrival.

Other times we are caught completely off-guard and the wounds sustained are made all the more paralyzing by our lack of preparation.

No matter the manner of their presentation, the "mean reds" exist and they can pack quite the painful punch.

In the film "Breakfast at Tiffany's," Audrey Hepburn's character, Holly Golightly, describes the mean reds as the sensation of being made suddenly afraid that being incapable of deciphering just what it was that made you afraid.

An invisible enemy makes for a hard target to shoot down.

Let's be real. Emotions are difficult enough to manage without the confusion the mean reds afford each of their victims.

The mean reds are powerful and their presence can and will undoubtedly change the face of situations and circumstances in a dangerous, manipulative way.

The mean reds are different from a fleeting sadness or from a deductible disappointment.

We have all faced them at one point or another but the intensity of the battles varies from person to person, from experience to experience. Not one being the mirror image of another.

I have come face-to-face with the mean reds and can provide a first-hand account. While they might be faceless entities, they are not groundless.

They are products of our pasts. Figures of our futures yet unknown.

I would not equate the mean reds with either depression or anxiety but rather a hybrid of the two, pulling each of the darkest elements of both to create a fear to be reckoned with, one that will stop even the bravest of souls in his or her tracks.

For Holly, her remedy was to visit Tiffany's. A recognized jewelry shop brought Holly the sense of relief she needed and, for the moment, the escape.

The mean reds are foul feelings that seem to steal the very pleasure of life from our grasps.

We cannot live a full life in fear.

Many nights have gone by where sleep has evaded me and words have abandoned me. I have sat in a coffee shop, praying for peace all the while too fearful to have faith that God would ever provide it.

The mean reds are real. Incomprehensible fear is real.

But take comfort, because Jesus Christ is also real and alive.

My peace and joy cannot be found in the windows of Victoria's Secret or in the red cup from Starbucks.

God is the sole healer of my spirit and His extension of grace reaches out to all and covers all.

Even the mean reds.