Transition

You know that feeling when you are in labor, transition stage, I think they call it, right before you begin to push the baby out? Do you remember the sense of being hopelessly overwhelmed? The pain seems almost unbearable, but Mamas know that when they reach that point in the birth of their child, that they are nearly done, they know that the baby will soon be in their arms and they will cry with joy as they meet a new soul, but in the moment, it doesn’t feel like you are ok. Labor feels like you are dying and that weight of physical and emotional agony press in and you can barely breathe — I had to be reminded to keep breathing. That is kinda what it feels like having PTSD and not taking any medication for it. I know what I feel isn’t real, I know God is King and He is good and He loves me. I know this from the tip of my nose to innermost part of my soul — but it doesn’t feel that way.

I have broken body, God has given it to me for reasons I don’t fully understand, but it is ok. I know it is, I know that I am ok, even when I feel so overwhelmed that I forget to breathe. I know I am ok even when my body hurts so badly from tense muscles that even a light neck massage makes me cry out in pain. I know I am ok when I am crying for no good reason and no amount of mind-over-mattering or scripture recitation helps me stop.

People are not math problems.

Faith is not a magic bullet for illness.

Grace is what saves us, not anything we do or don’t do.

I think God gave me these mental struggles with severe anxiety for a reason. I think He purposefully orchestrated all the events in my life that led up to my diagnosis and I believe He did it for my ultimate good because He loves me. I think He also blessed us with minds to create medicines to help ease symptoms, to give us relief, respite in a fallen world — because He loves us.

I am tired. I can’t think straight. But I am rejoicing in God’s goodness. I am praising Him for getting me through another day, full of truth and fighting to feel the hope that resides in my heart.

We started on new medication #1 today, it will be several weeks before I feel the effects, but I am thankful to know this feeling of hopelessness isn’t going to last much longer, that this veil of lies will be lifted soon and I will feel what I know to be true. We are still waiting for my #2 medication (the one that is supposed to bring immediate relief) to be approved by our insurance — an excellent opportunity to practice patience and continue disciplining my anxiety even when I know it is unfounded. I appreciate your prayers, I feel them and they comfort me. Thank you.