Escaping the darkness

an unexpected reflection

(this post was prompted by the “On this day” photo memories")

Three years ago the panic attacks returned.

It was towards the end of a busy summer. I had just finished seminary and was adjusting to the pastorate. I was teaching several classes, while attending to the myriad of other pastoral responsibilities: administrating, counseling, visiting, marrying, burying.

But I wasn’t taking care of myself. I ate and drink away my feelings of exhaustion, stress, and worry. I fell back into old habits- engaging in compulsions to keep the anxiety at bay.

That fall I was planning on going on a Colorado trip with my father and brother. I had spent no little amount of money preparing for the trip, but I canceled the day of. They went without me.

My mind caught up with my body. I couldn’t push it any further. I couldn’t eat or sleep. I lost my appetite. I could no longer mask the misery that was written all over my face. I was afraid to leave the house for fear of having an attack in public. I was afraid to leave the front porch. I was afraid to get off the couch. I was afraid.

It was a horrible time. I wouldn’t wish those days on anyone. There were mornings I wasn’t sure I would make it. There’s a song by Lord Huron which describes the feelings of those days well:

How long, baby, have I been away?
Oh, it feels like ages though you say it's only days.
There ain't language for the things I've seen.
And the truth is stranger than my own worst dreams.
The truth is stranger than in all my dreams.
Oh, the darkness got a hold on me.

Looking back, I am now thankful. I’m thankful God allowed me to reach the end of myself.

Why? Because He forced me to face the darkness. I wasn’t able to run anymore. I either had to face the darkness, or die. No more kicking the can down the road.

How did He do that? Well, in brief:

• God humbled me. I used to considered myself to be humble person, but in reality, I was simply passive. Avoiding responsibility and being fearful of others is not humility. The darkness forced me to admit to others that I had a problem and needed help. That was incredibly hard for me to do. In my first conversation with my therapist, I remember trying to put on a mask of strength, when I literally had a difficult time getting out of bed to make the phone call.

• God gave community. Admitting to my elders that I was struggling was one of the hardest things I had ever done. But they were incredibly gracious to me. They shielded me well on those weeks when my strength was dried up like a potsherd. Through therapy, I met many others who shared similar struggles. My eyes were opened to the people around me. I came to realize the burden I carried was common. I did not have to suffer alone. I will forever be thankful for those who carried my burdens and allowed me to carry theirs during the dark days.

• God gave Marissa. I would not be here if it were not for my wife. Marissa has seen me at my best and absolute worst. I am tempted to elaborate, but some things are best kept private. Needless to say, she has been my faithful companion and chief encourager. She gives strength and always lends a shoulder to cry on. I believe God gave me a thorn to humble me, but He’s also given me His daughter, to life up my head.

• God gave Exercise. I remember rolling my eyes at a poster in college, which read: “Struggling with depression? Exercise!”
  I played sports in high school and knew that was not the case. I could run for days and knew those feelings would catch up with me. But I was wrong. Since confronting the darkness, I’ve learned how intimately connected the body and mind are. I have learned how eating, drinking, and sleeping affects my thinking, emotions, and overall attitude. Human beings are embodied souls. We have a body, mind, and soul. I needed to learn how to care for myself. I had to educate myself and get out there. This, too, was difficult. Nobody likes running at 300lbs. You won’t feel like exercising if your diet consists of pizza, caffeine, and ice cream (ask me how I know). But in discipline there is freedom. And with exercise there is mental and physical liberation.

  I hope this helps someone. If you are struggling, please know you are not alone. If you are a pastor, feel free to reach out for more information. Grace and peace.