Captivity: Panic Attacks Part 1
For the past 2 years I have struggled with major anxiety that led to a deep unshakeable depression. I developed specific phobias that would almost immediately trigger a panic attack. Out of left field I developed a paranoid fear that I would develop life-threatening food allergies. I began to avoid peanuts, tree nuts, and shellfish as a precautionary measure. Unfortunately during that time I found out through an allergy test that I’m allergic to shrimp. Not particularly helpful. I avoided taking medication when I had a cold or an episode of acid reflux. When my husband and I took nightly walks, if I saw a bat I would literally crouch to the ground afraid that it bit me. I fervently believed it was only a matter of time before the symptoms of Rabies would show. I went from someone that lived and traveled all over Europe to a person that had trouble leaving her house without fear. Suddenly the world became a very dangerous place, and I just wanted to feel safe again. Any of these things could send me into a tailspin of panic. Even as I struggled with these things, I would find them laughable as to how crazy I was acting; yet, I felt powerless and trapped in my responses. If you have ever had a panic attack, you understand the worst part is the fear that another one could happen at any moment.
Typical Panic Attack Scenario: Imagine you are at the movies with a bunch of friends; excited to spend an evening out on the town. All of a sudden you don't feel well. Your heart is racing (not the fun kind), your breathing is shallow and rapid. You can't seem to catch your breath. Suddenly your throat feels like it is closing, and you begin to cough to try to clear the sensation. Adrenaline rushes through your body. You feel lightheaded/faint. All you want to do is run away; flee your current situation. Yet, you can't because you realize that you are the situation. As time passes family and friends slowly start to lose sympathy. Phrases like "Just stop it," "You're fine," and "You have nothing to be afraid of" are mindlessly recited to you as you try to calm a body that's convinced it's exhaling its final breaths.
As a Christ Follower many people pointed out that I am not supposed to be anxious; that I needed to turn over my fears and panic to Jesus. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs, “No crap Sherlock!” (That’s my Christianese form of the secular phrase. You get the picture.) It seemed like everyone else had it together. Everyone else believed God, but I couldn’t. I desperately wanted to, but my mind felt like it was being held hostage. What was wrong with me?
I battled for the past 2 years going to therapy. Something in my head wasn’t ready to admit defeat. It was okay for other people to seek out counseling. People that survive sexual abuse and/or assault, children of divorce, those that experience the death of a parent, friend, and/or sibling, and others that struggle with drug and alcohol addictions all need a helping hand. I called once before getting married, and when the counselor uttered the word “medication” I immediately shut down to the idea. Anti-depressants were for the desperate, those without Christ. Real Christians don’t need medication.
I could do it on my own. After all I am intelligent and strong. I graduated with not one, but two Bachelor of Art degrees. On top of that accomplishment I graduated Magna Cum Laude. However, most importantly I am a Christ Follower. Jesus is my Counselor and Healer. I should have been good to go, but I felt trapped and hopeless in my phobias and anxiety.
The more I prayed, the further I felt from God. Why wasn’t He answering me? Did He know how much pain I was in? I felt like I lost my salvation, like I was not really a believer. Not only did my mind feel stolen, but now I felt like I couldn’t turn to God. I never felt more alone. To Be Continued…