If you read my second-to-last article, you've probably gathered by now that I'm one of those 40 million people, ages 18 and up, that struggle with anxiety. I go through periods where I feel on edge, or worry about things that I can't control, and I certainly have days where I don't even want to get out of bed to go to class.

I've had anxiety since I was a child, majority of it being situational anxiety. I hate large crowds for the most part. If I'm having a particularly hard day, even the commotion in a restaurant or classroom can induce the beginning stages of a panic attack. I can also be in a perfectly pleasant atmosphere with people I love the most, and one anxious thought can change the trajectory for the rest of my day.

I'd be lying if I said this past month wasn't one of my hardest months since I've been in college. First semester was an absolute dream. I was meeting new people, exploring my campus, and it was warm enough that my friends and I were almost always out and about doing something fun. Fast forward to winter and it's cold, windy, and cloudy. And my friends and I aren't doing as much outside the dorm as we have before. Because the cold isn’t fun and everyone at LU knows Farmville shuts down around six or seven at night.

Most people know that people with anxiety can't shut themselves inside for long before they start going stir-crazy. We need to be outside, with activities to keep our overactive minds busy. Otherwise, before long it's a tailspin into panic attacks and unnecessary fear.

Aside from being a naturally anxious person, I am also a Christian.

I know what you're thinking: Why is she veering into her faith now? What does Christianity have to do with anxiety? How can believing in God cure anxiety?

Well, just bare with me.

Hopefully, from the title of this article, it was made apparent that I'm going to spin my anxiety into something useful. Something I can gather more from than just wasted tears and heartache.

When my anxiety is at its worst, it's because the enemy (Satan) has filled my head with lies. Lies about who I am, what others think of me, and how I'll never be able to shake the reoccurring notion that my anxiety will never go away. He takes my joy away almost instantly some days with the thought that life will never get better and remain better.

And some days, I'm just so tired and so weak that I give in. I believe him because he seems to be the only voice I hear and, for some unknown reason, the only voice that sounds convincing.

That is, until God breaks through.

I'll be completely honest with you, I haven't felt truly connected to God for a "substantial" amount of time in what feels like forever. I'll have little moments, usually when I'm singing praise songs with my eyes closed, then it’s back to nothing.

And that's okay; it happens.

I genuinely feel like, when God is quiet, it's because He's waiting for me to do something. He's waiting for me to put in the work for the prayers I've been praying. I've always struggled to have faith in Him, because that requires giving up the tiny amount of control I think I have.

But I think right now He's trying to tell me that I need to trust in Him and I need to fight back, instead of just folding whenever I feel anxious or Satan fills my head with lies.

That in and of itself makes me anxious because I think many will agree that we want God to do all the work and come up with instantaneous results. We want the least amount of work to achieve the least amount of pain.

But God's saying that's not how it works. He needs to see that we truly want to be better and work towards that in order for Him to do His job. He can push us towards the door, but we have to step through.

So, in between my days of feeling as though I'm winning or losing, I'm vowing to praise Him in this storm. Because I don't want to look back at my life and only think about all the bad days or how long they felt. I want to be able to look back and see I did my best to live in grace and God's light.