I don’t remember, but my mom tells me I used to cry every night before taking a bath. She also tells me I used to be afraid of the ocean and that I’d start sweating like a pig at just the sight of it.
I love the ocean and I like taking quick showers.
It seems I’ve dealt with anxiety for a long time, the other day a guy told me “it gets worst with age”, but thinking about that makes me anxious, so never mind! Lol…But dealing with anxiety doesn’t mean I’m not a good person or a good Christian, things I don’t pursue, but sometimes I wonder if others see me as broken.
I am broken. I deal with anxiety.
Earlier today I was reading a post by Mary DeMuth called “I’m Sick of Hearing About Your Smoking Hot Wife”, great title, I actually thought of calling my post “I’m Sick of Hearing About Your Anxious-Free Life”, but that didn’t sound as catchy.
Anxiety is not the end of me, taking a small dose of anti-depressants and going to counseling doesn’t make me less of a man than if I talked about cars and girls all day. Actually I do talk about cars and girls sometimes, but I get anxious saying that so never mind. Again, funny.
Anxiety is a funny thing, it has such highs and lows, one day I can be on the brink of death, filled with panic and fear, kissing our children good bye dropping them off at school, while the next day I can be on top of the world ready to run for Mayor of LA. Anxiety is like adrenaline and then you crash. I’m learning to handle those ups and downs a bit better, learning as my counselor says, to be more even keel (yuck!), but I still feel like I’m in 3rd grade, perhaps one day I’ll get to high school and get pimples and join the yearbook club.
I got pimples but delivered sing-a-grams instead.
But today, I just want to say I’m an anxious person and I’m okay with that. It doesn’t mean I’ll die of anxiety, or live a sad, worried life. It just means that this is the area of my life that keeps me close to God, like a thorn in the flesh, it’s something I wish would just go away but in fact keeps me growing, challenging me and most of all it makes me human.
So where’s the hope?
I’m not one to post 5 Ways to Beat Anxiety because frankly those things seem to help me for about 5mns. Instead I’m writing this post to share my experience with you and admitting who I am, not being depressed about it or anxious, but growing, changing, working with it to be my true self.
I am more than the sum part of my anxious thoughts, I’m actually a pretty silly person.
The goal in all this for me, besides writing about it, is to help others realize that being a person of faith doesn’t mean you’re not anxious. I may not have cancer or a terrible disease, but I have something that breaks me down, makes me reach out for support and makes me want to fall apart. It also helps me write some pretty good songs.
The last thing I want is to be fixed or be told “not to be anxious”, but even in that I guess there’s freedom to be open and be in community with others on this thing called anxiety.