An ugly reality

I am recognizing, lately, an ugly reality in my life.

Panic springs up easily, and it is so often tied to either fear, or to a need to perform, or both.

I'm thinking about this right now, because I'm nervously waiting for my phone to ring.  I'm trying to reschedule an exam that I had booked for tomorrow morning.

The reality of the tight scheduling of my courses this summer means that I booked some exams well in advance of when I began to study the material they covered.

In this case, that means that I've come up to the exam, written the practice midterm this afternoon, and discovered that I have less of a grasp of the material than I thought.  I need to give myself more time to review and learn the material than I have in the next 15 hours (especially given that I very much need to be asleep for at least 5 or six of those hours!)

But, because the school is online driven, it's hard to get a human on the phone to speak with.  I've left a few voicemail messages, and now I wait.

And panic.

What if they don't call me back in time?  What if I fail the exam tomorrow?  What if I pass but the grade is still really bad?  What if? What if? What if?

I have this insane drive to perform.  And when it looks like I can't meet that invisible standard in my head, I panic.

Lately this is especially driven by schoolwork.

I think it's partly because school was always "my thing."  It was the thing that came naturally, and at which I excelled.

In a family of athletes, I was bookish.

But, in a family where school was also a place of high achievement, I excelled, generally without trying very hard.

I grew up hearing about how mom worked ridiculously long hours to pay for university and still managed to pull off a 3.8 GPA.  The only C she ever got was in swimming, and that was because she'd never swam in her life until it was a required course for a physical education major.  And hearing how dad was the valedictorian of his Bible school class.

The thing I remember most about the day I picked up my university diploma is a comment (intended very jokingly, but still striking a deep nerve) my dad made when I proudly displayed it, "How come it doesn't say magna or summa cum laude?"

Anatomy is revealing these insecurities in surprising ways as I cope with grades that are less than what I'd hoped, and the realization that I will need to accept that I've done my best in the limited time available to me.  And, as I work to contain the many spiralling "what ifs" that the final grade in anatomy can stir in regards to my future acceptance to a nursing program.

And so I'm sitting here, in tears, worrying about failure.

Because somehow, in my head, failure, or even a "poor grade" is tied up with my value in the world.

If I fail, it must be because I am a failure.  It must mean that I'm worthless.

It's cliche, these issues of mine with performance, and the very cliche nature of them ticks me off.  (I hate to be a cliche!)

And rationally, I know that my value isn't tied in my grades, or how well I perform, or whether or not I manage to measure up to some invisible, ever-changing, and impossibly high standard.  I know I won't be loved more or less (at least not by people who really matter) if the grade is poor.

But panic, well, it clouds the issue.  And it's an ugly and very present reality in my life right now, as I work through these issues and others.

So I'm sitting here, waiting for my phone to ring, and writing a blog post to talk myself back to sanity.

And I'm reminding myself of a line that Rob Bell repeated over and over and over at the end of his DVD "The God's Aren't Angry".  "You don't have to live like this.  You don't have to live like this."

And I'm determining, all over again, that there will be a day when I don't live like this.  That I don't have to live like this.  That panic doesn't have to rule.  That fear cannot control my life this way.  That it will go, a little at a time, and that by reminding myself that this is not a healthy response, and that I don't have to live like this, I'm taking tiny, infinitesimal, baby steps in the direction of healing.

And I'll take any progress in the direction of healing that I can find.

At Rest

At some point in the coming days, I want to write a bit about the process of this move, how it was that I've decided to live in my Grandma's basement at nearly 27 years of age.  I want to talk about the very unique challenges that this move is creating in me.

But for tonight, I'm trying to rest.  I have to go out one more time, a bit later, to pick up my grandma's truck so that it's at my house and ready to be loaded when the people who are helping me move arrive in the morning.

About half way through the morning today I realize that I was pretty much useless at the office thanks to my distraction and fairly high stress level.  After a quick chat with my boss I'd gained permission to take a half a personal day on incredibly short notice.  That meant that the load of stuff I was supposed to move tonight was moved this afternoon, and then I was able to come home, move quickly through the vast majority of what remained for packing tasks, do a few little cleaning things, and now I can rest.

I don't think I can quite express how grateful I am right now for my boss' flexibility this morning.  It's an invaluable thing to me to be able to rest and sit quietly for a bit tonight, reflecting a little, praying a little, and just breathing. 

If you've been around this blog through the last three moves, you know that my struggle with panic tends to greatly intensify in times of massive change - and particular when I'm moving.  I've been so grateful to see a degree of healing in that this time.  Yes, the panic is still lurking close by, but thanks to the help fo friends and family, I think tomorrow will actually be a fairly quick, one, maybe two load process, followed by some cleaning.  My thoughts aren't in overdrive right now (though I am conciously stopping myself from moving, and forcing myself to take advantage of the opportunity to rest.).  The very lack of thought overdrive is a total blessing, and an answer to prayer.

So, for the moment I'm resting, and thankful.

Kick at the Darkness

I woke at 3:30.  Blogged yesterday's daily 5 sometime around 4.  At 5 I rolled over again to stare at the clock, and wondering when the night would come to an end, or sleep would finally return.

In the darkness, all of the rational things that help during the day seem to lose power.  I lay there, panicking, exhausted, feeling helpless, praying desperately.

Somewhere in the midst of the night, a Bruce Cockburn lyric I've often heard quoted returned to me "Got to kick at the darkness until it bleeds daylight."

That's what last night felt like.

Somewhere around dawn I drifted off for a few more hours of restless sleep.

I googled the lyric this morning, and it seems apt, especially when you add the line just before it:

Nothing worth having comes without some kind of fight
Got to kick at the darkness until it bleeds daylight.

Maybe that lyric returning to me was the whisper of God.  I don't know.  But it helps a little.

Because I lay there frustrated and angry that I was feeling the way I was.  It's been months since I've had a panic episode like this, and I was beginning to be able to believe that they were a thing of the past.  I still pray that one day they will.  That like the depression I struggled with for so many years, there will be healing.

It reminds me, in some ways, that line about kicking at the darkness of the phrase from scripture that played over and over in my head the day I was healed from depression a little over four years ago.  That phrase involved kicking too.  And the image it conjured was one of scarred and bloody feet, but not scars that were fresh - scars that were healing.  There is so much more to that moment, and that story.  It can be shared another time.  But the simple conjuring of that memory by a piece of lyric in the middle of the night was somehow hopeful.  Hopeful that this too can end.

"Nothing worth having comes without some kind of fight."

At three and four and five this morning it felt like a fight that would never end.  And really, it hasn't yet.  But daylight is here, and there is some respite in that.  Time to regroup, to remind myself again of truths.  To push back the darkness that overwhelms and entangles, and grab onto truth and light.  To trust that Jesus will somehow bring peace again.

What It's Like... (anxiety and panic)

My roommate stared at me blankly tonight as I tried to explain.

We were talking about the fact that I haven't been behind the wheel of a car yet and I mentioned that the very idea of it is enough to start panic and adrenaline racing through my system.

"Oh, just go to a quiet neighborhood, and I'm sure in five minutes you'll be fine."

I've been through this before.  Twice before.  Each time it took at least a month before I didn't feel instantly panicky on getting behind the wheel.  Manageable panic, but still panic.  Lots of clenched teeth prayers for help - for me, and for safety, and lots of gritted teeth refusal to let the fear win that round.  This was the worst accident yet.  I'm telling myself it doesn't have to be the same, that I am stronger, and getting better at facing and dealing with the panic all the time, but the very idea of being the person in control of a car makes me want to sob on the spot.

"You just need to get back up on the horse."

She can't know how words like that sting.  That a "normal" person would simply hear that as sage advice.  She doesn't know that all week people have been telling me about how God allows the bad stuff as well as the good, and how those words, even though I believe them, are grating on my already raw nerves.  She's smiling, and I see that, teasing me, wanting to cheer me up.  She cares about me, and for all of those reasons I don't say anything in response.  Just a simple "I will."  (And I will, likely tomorrow.  Maybe the next day.  Probably with my mom or someone with me, to help calm my nerves.)

But it leaves me feeling isolated again.  Alone with the pink elephant in the corner of the room.  The one I'd so like to ignore -  that panic and fear that only I can see.

I don't quite know how to describe this reality that is sometimes mine.

I've found a natural supplement that works well to manage it, and it's rarely a daily occurence anymore - it takes something big to tip the balance.  I'm working on controlling it, and facing it.  I'm winning more and more of the battles with that silent pink elephant these days.

But today, today I'm losing a bit.

Ironic, isn't it, that I spent a chunk of the afternoon looking at car ads with my dad?

The triggers are hard to predict.  It was a conversation with my roommate about plans for tomorrow, and for the coming week.  I happened to mention that I hadn't driven yet, and the panic rose up like a monster, and there it was.  The elephant in the room.

So, tonight I'm praying again for peace.  I'm using all of the coping strategies that I know work.

I'm acknowledging that I'm afraid.  And also that I am strong.  That this week I have walked the balance of some difficult circumstances and emotions and needed to care for myself.  That I have coped with the aftermath of this accident (my third, not counting a few serious near misses - got to love icy roads) so much better than previous ones (and this has been the worst.)  I'll get behind the wheel of the car, and I'll choose to find ironic humor in the fact that my prayer life will be consistent, perhaps slightly panicked and very regular for a while.  And I'll choose to remember that it does get better.  I'll drive even more carefully.  And eventually the panic will fade again.

Sleep, panic, and into the week...

Last week was really hard. The weekend was also hard. This week is not looking much better, though there are thankfully quite a few less plans for my evenings this week, meaning it is likely that I will be able to at least hibernate through the evenings to catch up on my mental and emotional drain.

I fell asleep last night amidst tearful whispered prayers. "Jesus I just can't stand in that gap, I can't pray tonight, I can't be that intercessor tonight. I will, you know I will, but can I please just have one night off? One night of sleep without dreaming or hours of waking to pray in ways I don't quite understand?"

I'm thankful that I was, in fact, able to sleep for several hours without dreaming or the intensity of prayer. I would have been okay if it hadn't happened, but I was oh so thankful it did.

The forecast for tonight is similar to Friday night's havoc creating weather. I read that and panic rose within me. I'm still shaky from Friday evening, and I am hoping that tonight will be nothing at all like that. I am still pushing away the panic, reminding myself that I am shielded and protected, and, more practically, that we won't know what the weather will be like until the time to drive home comes at the end of the day, and what will I gain by worrying? Panic is not a particularly practical thing, nor does it respond well to the practical, but I am fighting it with every tool at my disposal today, and the practical is one of them.

And so another week begins. Another week of choosing differently. Of fighting to be joyful. Of choosing life. And it is not at all easy, but perhaps it will grow easier with time, as patterns change and habits shift. And in the meantime, I'll somehow summon the energy to continue to fight for it. To fight for me.

Coping Mechanisms

I'd almost forgotten what it felt like to have a day like this.

For about 4 and a half months now, I've been taking a huge assortment of natural supplements, three times a day, designed to help me cope more effectively with life, boost my flagging energy levels, and help regulate some hormone and chemical imbalances that were wreaking havoc on my general ability to cope with the challenges of day to day life.

I've known for probably three of those 4 and a half months that the supplements were making a significant difference, particularly in regulating mood and my ability to cope, and I learned through some trial and error that it makes a huge difference when in the day I take certain supplements. That is, my ability to arrive at evening and the end of the workday without being near meltdown is definitely affected by my taking the breakfast and lunchtime portions of my supplements, and taking them around the same time each day.

I forgot (for the first time in probably three months) to throw my supplements for the day into my purse today, so I had none until I got home from work and ate supper.

I wasn't noticing as much of a difference as I'd expected until I was driving home from work, and the adrenaline from a full day at the office had begun to fade.

It's not my favorite thing to admit, but because I was exhausted and run down, and in the midst of constant stressful situations for nearly a year and a half straight leading up to when I began taking supplements, my body had shut down in a lot of ways. I was basically existing in panic mode. In a constant state of physical and emotional exhaustion.

I noticed it again today, as I was driving home. It's that level of exhaustion that takes even the smallest things, and magnifies them, making them huge, daunting, terrifying and overwhelming. It makes the task of cooking dinner seem impossible, or the necessity to drive to a polling station and cast a ballot seem the most draining thing on the planet. It creates panic and anxiety.

Thanks to the supplements, it's been a while since I've experienced that. What was a daily fact of life for nearly two years has become something that happens rarely. I found myself grateful tonight, for the perspective and changing internal dialogue that let me remind myself that I didn't need to be overwhelmed by the week before it had hardly begun. That I could figure out what my roommate and I were eating for dinner once I'd arrived home, and didn't need to spend my commute obsessing about it. I was grateful for the dialogue that reminded me of some good things that also happened today, and not just the shocking, saddening, or frustrating things.

And I'm oh so grateful that I've found something that works for me. That is making a noticeable difference in my ability to enjoy life without feeling anxious and panicked about every moment of it. That I know that tomorrow will likely be more manageable than today was, because the pills I need for tomorrow have already been placed in my purse.

I suppose, if you haven't lived in that constant state of exhausted anxiety, it's hard to describe how much of a relief it is to find it now a manageable thing. To have moments like tonight where I can truthfully tell myself that tomorrow really will be better, and that the things that are feeling large and threatening are feeling that way because I missed out on my coping mechanisms. But oh, I'm grateful that Jesus sent a friend my way who gave me a list of supplements to try. And I'm grateful that they are working for my body and letting me find rest and peace and joy just a bit more easily these days.

End of Day

I feel like this has been an incredibly draining, but surprisingly okay day.

My Telus technician came this morning, and my Telus woes are now (I think!) over until September when I need to cancel my television service. (That should be fun...)

I spent a chunk of the morning writing, praying, doing emails, and crying. Pretty draining.

The panic last night hadn't dissipated, so I spent a large chunk of the day reminding that that it didn't get to hang out with me either. That always takes a lot of energy. Which isn't my strength on a good day right now, but is definitely a challenge when I've passed an almost sleepless night.

The driving tester was great. It was (almost) a fun process. The test was an hour long, and I passed! I'm now officially a fully licensed Alberta driver, with no conditions on my license. I have an interim license (basically a slip of paper) to prove it until my new license comes in the mail.

I bought myself roses - 2 dozen actually - because there was a good sale at the shop where I buy roses. I would have bought them whether or not I passed or failed, but it was rather sweet to celebrate with flowers.

I actually felt up to spending some time on my appearance, and for the first time in a while felt really pretty as I headed out to our family gathering. We were celebrating my Grandma's 80th birthday, and about 5 other birthdays as well. It was nice to feel that way again. My dad took a couple photos of me, and he'll email them to me, so that I can hopefully share them here.

The family gathering was less exhausting than usual too.

And there were some good laughs with my dad. He's on a kick right now where he's teasing me about being the only officially unattached sibling. He called me at work yesterday to update my contact information, and was teasing me about the blank for "spouse" in his contact database. I told him I was dating Jesus. He was teasing me again tonight about not securing a son-in-law for him, and I told him that other guys simply couldn't measure up. He laughed pretty hard and told me that my standards were too high. I asked him what father had ever told his daughter that her standards were too high? We laughed, and it was nice to just laugh with him. To not pay attention to all of the tensions in that relationship, and be able to laugh a bit...

And now, now I'm home, and absolutely exhausted, and needing to go to bed.

It was a good day. But very full, and very draining. And now I'm praying for sleep. And maybe some rain tomorrow, to cool the air in our apartment down a bit...

Panicking Again

I had a rough night again.

It would seem that I'm a bit more nervous about this driving test than I realized, and that the panic I struggle with at times took advantage of that fact.

It's such a spiritual thing, an entity of sorts, this panic that comes on me, and for me, it tends these days to come when I'm not fully conscious. So, while I most certainly wasn't sleeping, I wasn't really awake either, and that's when the panic set in.

I spent the whole night worrying about something with a really simple solution. I was conscious enough to even be aware of the solution, but it wasn't until around 5 am that I was awake enough to realize what was going on around me and simply begin to take a little bit of authority and tell the panic it couldn't hang out with me. After that I got about 2 hours of disturbed sleep (it's been really hot here this week, and our apartment is brutally hot).

It frustrates me that this remains an issue, and that it can prey on me when I'm only semi-conscious and seem unable to combat it.

I'm thrilled that the ability to combat it has gotten much stronger when I'm awake, but finding the other incredibly disheartening at moments.

In the meantime, I spent the entire night panicked over something that can be sorted out with one (or two, depending on the results of the first one) phone call. So annoying.

Panic (Self-Reminders)

I've been dealing with panic all day today.

That tightness in your chest, slightly short of breath, adrenaline pumping, I'm two seconds from totally freaking out and losing it sort of panic.

I have not been impressed to feel that rising up within me again.

It used to happen a lot. It's hardly happened in the last three years. Not since I was healed.

I had one particularly bad attack about a month ago. Two friends talked and prayed with me and calmed me down.

I've spent most of the day talking to myself. Reminding myself that certain situations, which seem to be partially inducing the panic, are things in which I just need to wait and pray.

Out loud and in my head all day.

And now by blogging (because the panic kicked up again a few minutes ago).

Reminding myself that if God has given or set something aside for me or to me, then it cannot be taken from me.

Reminding myself that even in the things I can't control, I walk with a God who offers peace. A God who stills storms. Even the mental, adrenaline rushing sort of storms.


Reminding myself that no matter the outcome of these situations, I will be okay. That I walk with Jesus, and He's not going anywhere (not always easy for me to believe, but a reminder worth giving myself anyway.)

Reminding myself of Paul's words - to live is Christ, to die is gain. So I win either way. Even when it sucks, and seems more like suffering. If I'm alive, it's Christ. If not, then I get to be with him, and tears and suffering will end.

A Heart that's Seen

This has been a hard week.

My heart has been very unseen, and very misunderstood. My integrity has been questioned more than once, because of the unfortunate actions of another who lacks integrity, and with whom I have to work. I hadn't realized just how much of a toll that had taken on me until I arrived home last night, exhausted after spending over 2 hours in winter traffic, and tried to accomplish a very simple task.

My brain and body shut down, and I flew into panic mode. Granted, there were extenuating circumstances which added to the quick shift into panic, but there it was. I was fighting off a panic attack while still working with desperation to finish a simple and necessary task.

In the midst of that, two dear friends found me online. One hung around and talked me through the panic, while the other simply offered a few encouraging words, and promised to pray.

One reminded me of promises spoken, prayers prayed, and love shared.

The other simply told me, "you're a good woman, Lisa."

I needed to hear all of what both of them said.

Both told me in their own ways that I was loved, that my heart was seen, that I would be okay. Somehow, because of the source, my heart began to calm, and I was able to hear their words, and receive them. I was able to allow my heart to quiet enough to hear Jesus whispering the same things. That I am loved. That He is with me. That I will be okay.

I was reminded last night again of the importance and the gift of true friends. The sort who know you most deeply, who've seen you at your best and worst, and love your heart anyway. Who see the heart, and not the surface panic.

To the two of you who hung out with me online last night, thank you. Thanks for being Jesus to me in those moments, and letting him whisper to me through your love. I needed it - your love and his. And I'm carrying it with me today and on into the weekend and the weeks ahead.