I Struggled With Anxiety And Depression Before It Was Talked About
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Health and Wellness

I Struggled With Anxiety And Depression Before It Was An Accepted Conversation

And I'll continue talking about it today.

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I Struggled With Anxiety And Depression Before It Was An Accepted Conversation

I never wanted to be a statistic. I've always heard of "those people" who struggled after hitting a rough patch in their life and suddenly find themselves consumed in a dark tunnel of depression, a vicious cycle of anxiety. I figured that was something below me and that if it were to come my way, I would easily be able to side-step it. I prided myself on the fact that I wasn't one of the people lost in sadness, stopped in their tracks with fear from anxiety, insecurities holding them back from who they were called to be.

Man, was I wrong.

There was a brief period in high school when depression first hit me. In my junior year of high school, actually. I didn't talk to anyone about what I was going through. Sparked by rejection, I began to believe the silence lies in my head. I told myself over and over in my head,

"You are unlovable. You are not beautiful. You are worthless. Nobody cares. You will never be enough. No guy in his right mind will ever marry you. You are not worthy. You are stupid and abnormal...
Everyone is going to say you're faking this."

I found myself in a deep, deep depression. I quit talking, but the voices in my head never did. I quit eating as much and cried a lot in those days. I felt a sense of utter loneliness

I never actually wanted to attempt suicide but my mind started to formulate questions that still terrify me to this day. They mocked me, "Would anyone really miss you if you were suddenly gone? How would you do it, if you were to follow through?" I began to think through these things.

I kept a journal full of my feelings that school year and summer. 70 plus sheets front and back full of what I never told a soul. I told everyone I was fine. But if you were to read those journals, you would've been alarmingly concerned.

This went on until the beginning of my senior year of high school when I told myself I didn't want to live like that ever again. Jesus pulled me out of that rut in that particular season. I burned those journals and life seemed to be picking up again. I was nowhere near the dark hole I had previously been in. But ya know, God has a way of killing our pride to bring us to our knees and to a place of honesty and vulnerability and further dependence on Him.

Shortly after graduation from high school in June of 2014, my grandfather was diagnosed with cancer. August 6, 2014, my family and I lost Papa Don to that cancer. I went to college as a freshman exactly two weeks later.

I stopped sleeping. I couldn't stop crying. I was consumed by the dagger of pain in my heart and instead of dealing with the despair that was heavy upon me once again.

I became an extrovert who didn't have time to think about the cancer that took Papa Don. I couldn't stop thinking about that last interaction I had with my precious grandfather. 18 years with him wasn't nearly long enough. Depression was upon me once again. Great. Let's just say that this went on for quite some time.

Sophomore year of college had its own battles of close friends who chose to abandon our friendship for boys and alcohol, online and verbal harassment from the aforementioned "friends," etc. All of these stressful and pain-filled happenings triggered the formulation of anxiety. It began in December of 2015.

The feeling of extreme chest pain and heart palpitations, the overwhelming tsunami of physiological anxiousness which sometimes resulted in an inability to function at school and in social settings. Uncontrollable racing thoughts, overwhelming fears all future safe friendships would end as messy and abrupt as this. I thought I was crazy, I thought no one would believe or just tell me to "brush it off." I couldn't. All of my friends had just left me, my then-boyfriend-now-husband was 1,300 miles away, and I was still two hours away from home. I was alone and felt it deeply weigh on my soul.

Anxiety became a barrier to living my everyday life and I was left with no idea where to turn. Sleeping at night was an utter joke and I had never felt more alone in my life than during that time. It robbed me of joy, of sleep, of life. In return, it gave me fear, weariness, and apathy. I hated what I felt like I had become because of the sudden onset of anxiety. Months went by. Then a year. And nothing changed.

James 1:2-4 tells us, "Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything" (NIV).

What, Jesus? Consider it joy? Consider my loneliness, feeling of never being able to amount to enough, the never-ending suffocating anxiety that consumed my life, joy? I can think of no other purpose, however, then for these experiences that God allowed, to be times that were meant to grow me closer to my Lord, refine my character and to humble my pride. No suffering is joyous, but God is still faithful and still good. And that's worth worshipping Jesus for — in the joyful times, or the moments full of grief or overwhelming fear.

James 4:6 says, "But he gives us more grace. That is why Scripture says: 'God opposes the proud, but shows favor to the humble'" (NIV).

God had demonstrated His grace to me without a doubt, during these times through what He has taken away from me to draw me closer to Him and where He wants me, and also what He showed me of His love and kindness to His daughter during this time — it just took my eyes to be opened through the pain of it all to see it. I am thankful that God has used these hard times to bring me crashing down to my knees in front of Him.

If we're being entirely real, I still deal with anxiety today. I am on a different side of it, surrounded in support by the people who love me most and encourage me through Christ, and that's the difference.

I know I'm not alone anymore, even when I feel I am.

So, please. If you are feeling this way, please do not remain silent as I did since 2012. You are not alone. You are not crazy. When you place your identity in Christ, you can use your struggles to reach out to others and refine your faith in Christ, as well as your character and spiritual maturity.

God may or may not ever free you from your battle of depression or anxiety — but either way, I praise Him for who He is and always will be; my spiritual deliverer, the true reason He sent His son to die on the cross in my place. In your place. And that is why I can fight this battle of emotional and spiritual warfare. Because of who He is and what He's already won over pain and sin.

Place your hope in Christ and you can make it to the next minute, I promise you. Sixty seconds at a time. That's it.

And so here I am — trying to pursue hope and joy. Life comes from Christ and that's really, really hard to remember. Especially if physically all you feel is sorrow or panic or dread or the lack of motivation for the things you actually do love. But whenever you're feeling the effects of anxiety or depression, just know that there's a girl who's got herself a similar narrative praying that you find your knees on the ground and find the hope that wants nothing more than to grab your hand and help you back on your feet. So keep going until you get there.

Run to Christ because Jesus is my hope and joy, and He wants to be yours, too.

From, the girl who's been there.

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