Shields and Warriors

 I'm not at all sure when Anxiety became part of my every day life. I would love to say it was when Dean was little and we faced such big struggles with him. I would love to pin point and say "this was the moment it all changed for me." 

I can't though. It drives me nuts if I can be honest. 

Today, friends asked if we wanted to meet up at the Library, about 25 minutes away, a place we have been so many times, a place I used to work at. I could tell you how to get there. I love that Library. Today is also Monday and for the month of May you can get free coffee from Dunkin on Mondays (you're welcome for that one). It took forever, but we finally loaded up and got everyone in the car and I headed to get my free coffee before taking everyone to the Library. While on the way there, the temperature gauge on the van steadily crept higher and higher. 

All of a sudden it felt hard to breathe and I was having a hard time focusing. My leg started to do that leg jiggle thing it does when I get anxious. And all I could think was "I know I said I would meet friends at the Library, but I want to go home. I want to go home I want to go home." 

So we did. 

I pulled into the driveway with the kids and explained I wanted Daddy to look at the van before we did anything, that I just felt anxious. That sometimes we do hard things (even if seems simple to others) but sometimes we don't have to push ourselves and do hard things. We talked about how my body was scared and I didn't want to spend our time at the Library feeling that way. My wonderful kids climbed out of the van and act snacks on the front lawn in the sun while I texted my friends. I texted Blair. Any time the van acts off in any way, even if I know what to do, it makes my whole body feel off. It makes me panic. 

There are some things that struck me about this whole thing today though. 

One, I love my people. I love my friends, so much. I love that while I struggle with these every day simple things they have never once made me feel bad about it. They have all been amazing and supportive and honestly, I don't know how other people do their lives alone. I also appreciate that my friends, while they respect what happens in my head and what it looks like for my life, they challenge it. Sometimes it IS time to do the hard things and suck it up. I love that they can tell when those times are and when its ok to let me have those moments. "Come anyways, you need to", or "Well fine then, I'm showing up at your house" or "Hey friend, we understand, it's ok"...I can't believe these are my friends...

Two, I get frustrated with myself. I am simultaneously so happy we are home and so disappointed in myself...I don't want my life or my kids lives ruled by Anxiety. My own or their own. It doesn't get to win. And today it feels like it won. I have worked very hard for over a year to get a handle on some of these bigger feelings. I have been in therapy and I am unashamedly on anti-anxiety medications. I am openly talking about it when I can. And I am not glossing over the fact that this a war waged with the ruler of this world. Between me, Jesus, and the medicines and knowledge we have been given, I am fighting this. So the days when it feels like I'm not winning? I just want to sit and cry for a little while. 

Three, one of the best things about homeschooling my kids is that we have a lot of freedom. Field trips and day trips and whatever else we want, we can do it. I want to have adventures with my kids. I want to feel brave again. I don't though. I don't feel brave. I feel like the only reason I do take my kids places is because of those aforementioned friends. Driving any where over an hour from my house feels...impossible. The people who pay the price of this more often than not, are my own kids. This seems very unfair to them...

On these bad days I try to think about when this really started. This Anxiety that I held to my chest and begged God to take. I remember the summer when Dean was a baby and how scared I was that one mistake would kill him. I remember the injections and medication schedules. The immense pressure I felt as a mother to a small baby with a heart condition. Not to mention a not even two yet toddler. I remember those long days and the friends even then who showed up. For play dates, for support, to help me. I remember calling a friend for help during a panic attack, she showed up and gave me Rescue Remedies and helped me calm down so I could take care of my kids. I remember calling my mother...multiple times asking for her help. I remember the first family vacation we took and having a panic attack from one place to another because I was overwhelmed by how many people we were around. 

I wish I had gotten help then. I wish I had started therapy then. I should have. 

The course of my life has shifted and moved. We learn and adapt, we try new things and handle the next thing. This is just another part of my story. Just one more thing I am working through. Even if I have a hard time accepting that its ok. It's ok to need space, ok to need a moment, ok that some days I don't push myself to do the hard things. It's never been an excuse to me though, and I am more thankful for the people who don't let it become an excuse. 

I never in my wildest dreams as a teen thought that I would label myself as an anxious person. I never thought I would have panic attacks and I find it ironic that in my twenties I was put in places where I walked other people through theirs. I hate how out of control it makes me feel. How off my entire body feels during and after one. I hate the...triggers. I am starting to be able to pin point them and work to combat them, but some days they still get to me. 

It will not always be this way in my head. It will NOT. 

Above my sink, every day while I'm doing dishes, I see the verse 2 Chronicles 20:15 on a tin sign that my best friend sent to me when Dean was a baby. "The Battle is not yours, but God's."

I am, beyond grateful, for God who is in my corner, helping me battle this, and the friends He sends along as shields and warriors on the days I feel beaten by it. 

Anxiety can feel so stupidly isolating. 

But here is the truth, I am not alone in the war I'm waging on my own thought processes. 

And I find immense comfort in that...