Night

If you've ever had a panic attack, you know how debilitating they can be. When I first started having them back in 2006, I thought that I was dying. I had no control over them; they completely controlled me. Sometimes they'd last for hours and others "only" minutes. I have memories of floating around the townhouse my first husband and I lived in and sobbing uncontrollably and becoming physically sick because of the terror. Let me tell you, it's an awful way to live. Counseling was essential for me and for a good 6+ months I clung to those 50 minute sessions for dear life.

Slowly the panic attacks went away though. Thankfully counseling taught me how to recognize the triggers, and I learned how to stop an attack before it escalated. My counselor was a great Christian leader who helped me pray for strength and eventually I was able to wean off the medication that I'd needed to get through that time in my life.

I live in Indiana. Indiana has a lot of flat, straight roads. Life doesn't seem to have many flat, straight roads though. My ex-husband and I separated in 2008 and were officially divorced in 2009. He remarried in 2010. I met Ben in June of 2012, we were married in November of 2012, and our daughter was born in September 2013. That was a lot of wonderful, beautiful changes in a short period of time. Maybe I should've predicted that the combination of it all, plus pregnancy/nursing mom hormones, would put me in a vulnerable state for the panic attacks to return.

Night time is the worst for me. I can't tell you how many days I've run myself ragged in hope that by the time my head hits the pillow I will drift off quickly and not give my brain any down time to think. My first counselor warned me that dark places were often where panic attacks started. He was definitely right.

I stopped going to movie theaters in 2006. If a movie even remotely mentioned or talked about life or death, my brain found a way to escalate the panic attack. As you can probably guess, I rarely found a movie that didn't deal with that, so I stopped watching them altogether. In theaters, once the panic attacks started I'd be stuck in a dark movie theater that rarely provided an exit that didn't leave me looking like hot mess. And while I've never been one to hide away from sharing my feelings, I really am not a fan of looking like a mess. The first child in the family genes run deep... I need to have my act together. Or at least look like I do.

But back to night time... any new mom can recall those early days with their babies and the exhaustion of round the clock feedings. Many days I didn't know what day it was if I didn't look at my iPhone. Our little gal lost a lot of weight in the first few days of her life, and I fortunately had a very patient and dedicated friend who was my lactation consultant, and she helped me push through those first few weeks of exhaustion and frustration trying to help her gain the weight back. But take a new, tired mom and then add in panic attacks at night... I definitely was a mess. This was not the picture I had in my head for what life would be like (see last post).

It took me suffering on and off with panic attacks until May of this year before I finally realized I had to do something. Again. So back to counseling I went. Again. A new counselor this time and a fresh determination to not use medication to fix the problem. I've felt God pushing at my heart to fix the problem and not just sweep it under the rug.

My panic attacks revolve around a fear of dying. Some people have fears of public speaking. I was a teacher for almost a decade... that's not a fear. Some people fear singing in front of large crowds... well, we know I can handle that one too. My fear is dying. See, I have this stupid, human struggle with control. I can't control death. I can't control how and when it'll happen. I can't guarantee myself that our daughter will grow up most of her life with her mom (something my mom and her siblings didn't get). How will I know she'll be okay? How do I know she'll turn out like I've been praying she will? How can I keep the evil things in this world from hurting her if I'm not there to stop it?

I can't control any of those things... I'm not the one in control. I struggle big time with that!

Starting up counseling again is helping. I haven't had a panic attack in two months... I do have moments where I expect them to come, and I'll start to feel that little flash of heat and my heart start to race, but I can stop them again. But the deeper heart issue here is that I need to strengthen this life-long relationship I've had with Christ so that I don't have to fear where I'm going when I do die. Personally, I don't think it's a salvation issue. I know that I've accepted Christ into my heart and have been forgiven for my sins. It's a lack of knowledge issue. I don't know the Bible well enough to know the promises He's given us.

Along with going back to counseling, I decided it was time to really take some steps to have freedom from this anxiety. A couple of months ago I started participating in an online Bible study called Hello Mornings. They have six week challenges and you communicate online with your group about what you're reading together and what you're learning. It has made all the difference in the world for me. Having quiet time each morning, getting my mind wrapped around the day's activities, maybe getting some chores done before our little gal wakes up has made a huge difference. I'm slowly gaining confidence in knowing scriptures too thanks to the daily time in the Word. Also, I am finally making some progress in Randy Alcorn's book called "Heaven". I bought it in 2006 but haven't been able to make it past the first chapter for 8 years. (I finished Ch. 4 this morning!)

I still have so far to go, but I am so thankful that I'm listening and following God on this one. I am working so hard to truly trust God and give up my fear. I still struggle many nights to go to sleep, but I'm grateful for the improvement. Conversations, church sermons, radio discussions lately have all been talking about Heaven. There's a reason for it, I'm sure of it. And one of these days I'll be able to listen or join in on conversations without crying, but I think the key right now is to be obedient. Follow God's lead and listen. Listen to Him, listen to what the Bible has to teach me, listen to all the research Randy has gathered for his book... maybe it's okay to not have it all together for a little while...not knowing what to do or say is okay... if it leads me to truly being healed.

It's a Journey

September 17th, 2013 was the most amazing day ever. I had a whirlwind delivery and we met our amazing little girl for the first time that morning. The sun was shining, everyone was beaming with excitement, and visitors were traveling in and out of our room at the hospital faster than I could keep track. Having a baby is awesome, right? But MAN is it a doozy of an adventure.

I'm a planner. You probably knew that about me. I love to make lists, cross off each accomplishment, and silently pat myself on the back for being such an over-achiever. But being a mom is not something that blends well with a to-do list. Kind of like being a special education teacher, you can kind of have an idea of what the day will hold, but flexibility is the name of the game. Some days your kid is happy and all is well with the world and other days, she barely makes it an hour between naps and is a cranky pants mcgee during the time in between. My planning side doesn't always love the unpredictability, but I know that's probably best that I be stretched, and being a mom sure has stretched me thus far!

Our little gal is a little over 10 months now. I could not be more proud of this little person, this little mini me, that I spend my days with. Her smile makes my heart sing and her laugh brings me to joyous tears. She loves to growl when someone does something she doesn't love right now, or if she's trying to communicate with the dogs. They taught her that, by the way. Every time she gets close to their food bowl and they're trying to eat, they growl at her. It's pretty cute when she does it... not so much when the dogs do.

Before El came into the world, I had really grand illusions of having a baby and carting her around to various places with me and beaming with ease and comfort of being a mom. After all, my over-achieving self could not imagine it being anything I couldn't handle gracefully. But this past winter was rough on me. Being a mom is tough. Being a mom is a HUGE responsibility. And being a stay-at-home mom, if you're an extrovert like me, can be pretty lonely. I clung to social media as a way to have some sort of communication with people while my husband was at work. But we had a heck of a winter in Indy and so my dreamed up adventures of traveling about with my kid were few and far between. I'd get out of the house once a week. Maybe. And that was for a couple hours to go to church and grocery shop.

The winter is a tough time to be stuck at home. No sunshine, family visits less because the roads are slick and dangerous, and so the down side to being on social media because you're trapped at home is that it's easy to become overwhelmed with all the bad in the world. I had other moms posting article after article about kids being kidnapped, babies suffocating in their sleep, deadly colds sweeping the nation. Then in December I'd watch the news and hear about a mother & daughter who had their home broken into and they died by "blunt force"... they lived a mile away.  I desperately needed positive people in my life speaking the truth about the good that this world has to offer, but instead I was overwhelmed.

That's when my panic attacks returned.

I struggled with anxiety and panic attacks years ago after my 1st husband had a scary eye accident and then a couple months later two friends from college died in a plane crash. Two instances of losing or almost losing people who were important to me was too much. It was really the first time I had to face my mortality.

But I hadn't had any panic attacks in a long time. Years. Life was good, I was happy, I wasn't thinking about my inevitable death. But like a lot of trouble spots in life, I've had a relapse.

So I'm back in counseling. It's a good thing. I struggle with it in the beginning because you can't just start up counseling without rehashing the past. Stories I don't talk about much have to come out, I have to remind myself that I deserve the forgiveness I've asked God for, and I have to remind myself that I'm forgiven.

That's my focus right now on this journey of healing. I am forgiven, even though I don't deserve it.

More to come...