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A matter of faith.
July 17th, 2008
Last night at VBS, the lesson was about Peter and Jesus walking on water, and the bible point was “Jesus gives us the power to be brave.” Do you know how hard it is to tell an eight-year old to just trust and have no fear? On Sunday the sermon was about the lilies of the field. God is clearly trying to tell me something.
I have written a little bit about depression and the reason I am on Lexapro. After seeing several different doctors and therapists, the crippling anxiety and hypochondria I was suffering was diagnosed as depression. I did not feel depressed. In fact, I never have. I did not cry for no reason, or not want to get out of bed. There were, however, days when I would spend hours upon hours googling symptom after symptom. There were nights, when I would clench my teeth so hard in my sleep , when I woke my face would be swollen. I would ask The Husband to take me to the E.R., ask my friends if I looked like I was having a stroke.
Before The Son was born, and when I had my last serious bout with what we now know was depression, I was CONVINCED I had a brain tumor. People may laugh, in fact I had a very dear friend make fun of me for some of the things I came up with. You just cannot understand what that kind of anxiety feels like until you have had it. To me it was real and serious and I was going to die before I got a chance to do anything with my life. It was my worst fear. Why was it my worst fear? I have grown up a Christian. I believe in eternal life, I know I am going to heaven. Yet the idea of dying young scared me so bad I would have panic attacks and think I was having a heart attack. I slowly worked through it, dealt with all of the grief and major changes which happened to me in such a short amount of time, and had several years where I never once thought I belonged on an episode of Medical Mysteries.
After The Son arrived in all of his blobby wonderfulness, I did go through a period of slight baby blues, but it was really not that serious. Then one day I was reading an article about Andrea Yates, the woman who killed five of her children. Bam! I was petrified of snapping. Snapping and hurting my baby. This is confusing, even for me, but I never wanted to hurt The Son. I never felt like I was going to hurt him, but I was afraid something would go haywire in my brain and cause me to harm my son. It was my new worst fear. It would cause me to not only lose him, my sweet darling baby who I loved beyond comprehension, but all of the other people whom I love at the same time (I cannot tell you how much our families love The Son, there is not a doubt in my mind he is the single most precious thing in about a dozen people’s life.) There would be no forgiveness or support for me if my nightmare came to fruition. There was something scarier than death now.
Instead of googling symptoms, I was reading in depth psychiatric papers on women who kill their children, trying to figure out what was different between them and me. I would try to keep myself out of situations these women were in (mostly lonely, isolated, over worked, poor). At the height of this fear, I was scared to be alone with my own baby. What if? What if I somehow went crazy too? For those of you wondering, women who are AFRAID of hurting babies NEVER actually harm their kids because they understand it is horrific. That is a BIG difference. Women like Andrea Yates do not understand they are doing something wrong. It may sound sick to you….and it may be what keeps me from hitting publish on this post, but I feel a lot of compassion for those women. They needed help and did not have the support system I have.
I was able to put words behind my fears and get help, both psychiatric and medical. I was suffering from a pretty common (COMMON! Why do we not know about this! Why is it not in What to Expect When You are Expecting? On the cover of Parents magazine? ((this is why I probably will hit publish))) form of PostPartum Depression. I took meds. I talked it out. I stopped trying to be a square peg in a round hole career wise. I got better. Now I am down to a microscopic dose of the drugs, and damn it all to hell, the anxiety is creeping back up on me. This time I am worried about being a good enough parent, or what would happen to The Son if something happened to me. I am handling it much better, it helps to know what your real problem is and makes it easier (but not easy) to rationalize your anxiety.
Why do I feel afraid at all? I am living the American Dream people! I am madly in love with my husband, and he is madly in love with me. We have a healthy, darling, happy child. We have a nice roof over our heads, plenty to eat, two cars that run (and one that doesn’t), and we get to spend time with each other, our family, and friends. We not only have a wonderful biological family, but a church family just as special. I know God has blessed my family and I with all of this, so why can’t I just trust He will continue to bless us, and stop the fear already? Am I such an immature Christian? Am I going to be forced to live my life on drugs because I cannot just let go? Will I pass this horrible gene/habit on to my fearless, faithful little boy? I am praying this is just a side effect of withdrawal, and once it all leaves my system, I will be brave. I understand Jesus gives us the power to be brave, I am just not sure I know it yet.
Filed under faith, lexapro lexplains it | Comments (7)7 Responses to “A matter of faith.”
I shouldn’t be awake right now and reading this. But, I am. It’s 2:48 a.m. and my night’s sleep is over apparently, as is usual in similar circumstances.
I haven’t read any papers on why some parents snap and harm their precious responsibilities. But, I understood that in the Yates case she believed they’d be safer with God. You are right, she didn’t spend time worrying about killing them; her sickness caused her to believe she was helping them. God wants us to teach our children to be His faithful servants on earth and bring others, who might never know Him otherwise, to Him. You and The Husband are teaching the son servitude and to love God in the best way possible, by example.
WARNING: PARENTAL ADVICE BEYOND THIS POINT!!!
If I could give you an answer to why you have this horrible anxiety, I would. It sounds to me these newest symptoms are how you are processing the weight of responsibility you have in caring for this most precious little boy. A responsibility that both you and the husband take very seriously. You are wonderful parents. Even though you are wonderful, you probably will make mistakes, that’s o.k. These little creatures are very resilient and he’ll survive the mistakes you might make.
Children, who have had a poor beginning, can grow into remarkable people. Look at my father, he had a horrible childhood (unwed mother, alcoholic stepfather, poverty, no education), yet he became a good man, was married to the same woman for nearly 51 years until his death, and raised four (not so bad) children all of whom have marriages of greater than 30 years at this point. On the other hand there are other examples of people, raised in the best of circumstances, who grew up to be monsters. You do have a responsibility entrusted to you, but who The Son ultimately becomes will not be totally influenced by the things you do right and the things you do wrong. So lighten up!
Hey You, you do have a host of family members to support you and your family in anyway possible. We cherish you every bit as much as we do The Son, The Husband, JHJ and each other. The Son’s personality continues to develop daily and with each day we find a new dimension of him to love. We did the same thing with you as you grew. We adore YOU, just as you are!
Perhaps another facet of your anxiety is now that you have a child you’ve come to realize the importance of family. For some reason having your own fosters understanding of the value of relationships. If something were to happen to you (heaven forbid), all of the people in your lives would rally around and The Son would still be provided a good family life. Probably not as good as the one you and The Husband are providing, but sufficient. (Think of the people you know personally in this type of circumstance. Some with better results than others.)
Try to let go of worrying about the future, whatever God has planned WILL happen. Sometimes bad things DO happen, but, if it does He’ll give you the grace to handle the bad things along with the good ones. Look no further than TODAY (no, this doesn’t mean stop keeping your calendar or planning) and how you are going to use this DAY to celebrate life and serve the Lord with all your heart.
An online friend recently stated to me, “You must be strong.” This was in response to my statement that we had two parents who have been diagnosed with two forms of dementia. Of course, they are in the early stages of dementia. I don’t know that I’ll be strong enough to care for them when/if the diseases progress, I can only take one day at a time, and for today His Grace is sufficient. The same is true for you, for today God’s Grace is sufficient to see you through whatever is set before you. (even your VBS crew!)
Yes, trust in Him; trust also in yourself and us. God has blessed you with this life, and for as long as you have it, whether its one day or 26280 (to age 100 if you are curious), try not to squander one minute of it on worry about tomorrow and things that will probably never happen.
Hey You, I have been reading your blog for a couple of weeks now and I just had to reply to this post, (especially since I agree with Grammy).
I had a miscarriage a few years ago and then had a serious illness/virus that I wasn’t sure that I’d live through. It was after the physical part of the illness was gone that I realized that I had mentally slipped into depression. I had handled the miscarriage at the time, but it was always in the back of my mind. And then the illness made me feel so terrible/low that I literally hit bottom. I am on Lexapro and it has helped to combat the depression and anxiety that I had been suffering from.
It took some time, but I eventually learned to not worry so much as long as I am healthy, my husband is healthy, I have a roof over my head, etc. I have also been able to get pregnant (due in november) since I am no longer worrying about things I cannot control.
I just want you know that it takes a stronger person to admit their weaknesses, than it does to ignore them. And even if you do need to take Lexapro for a while, it doesn’t mean it’s the end of the world. At least you are dealing with your troubles, rather than ignoring them and letting them fester.
God works in mysterious ways and will always provide for you. You may not always see His hand at work, but it’s always there.
The above comments are amazing. I just wanted to say that I don’t want you feeling weak just because you have taken Lexapro or have to in the future. It doesn’t make you an immature Christian or signal you aren’t trusting in God. I think you are very brave to try it without the meds, but if you have to go back one day, that is okay too.
I remember the pastor of your church giving a sermon once about Peter walking on water to meet Jesus. Peter ended up failing, but the point was he got out of the boat. And when he did fail, Jesus was right there to pick him back up.
Also, I am sorry I ever made fun of you when you thought you had a brain tumor. I was just trying to make you laugh and feel better. I didn’t think you were crazy.
I want to take a moment to mention how proud I am of Hey You, it takes a lot to bare your soul like she has in this post.
Hey You, I love you and want you to know that there is NOONE else in the world that I would rather have married and be raising a son with, regardless of any anxiety attacks you might have.
I don’t think that your worry has anything to do with a lack of faith, I think it is a constant reminder to you of just how much faith you do have.
(I know, I probably shouldn’t end a sentence with have, but whatever…blame it on my high school english teachers.)
I understand what it’s like to come off medication. I also understand the crazy anxiety… I don’t know if JHJ has ever mentioned it, but maybe we’ll talk about it sometime.
I’ve been off medication for about 5 or 6 years, and I constantly think to myself that I need to be back on it. Especially when I snapped and screamed at JHJ that he couldn’t use the kitchen if he couldn’t keep it clean.
The point is… you are incredibly brave to be doing this. There is no way I could take care of a fleet of children without medicinal assistance. Good luck, I’m sure that everything will go fine.
This is really long and sounds like it’s about me, but trust me it’s really about you.
Anxiety was a constant companion of mine until well into my 40s. Now, it leaves me alone weeks (sometimes months) at a time. Crippling depression that manifested itself in extreme exhaustion and hopelessness was another daily companion during my sons’ baby and childhoods–well at least 3 weeks out of every 4. Depression is, unfortunately, a genetic problem in my family. Even worse is the source of my anxiety and which, I suspect may be partly to blame for yours: I am an extreme perfectionist.
As a new mother, I did not know that I was suffering from any kind of syndrome b/c no one talked about it back then, but I knew something wasn’t right. The thoughts that spiraled in my head and that I kept secret as I struggled to get rid of them, appeared about 4-5 months after the baby was born and finally (thankfully) went away a couple of months later. For me, membership in a March-of-Dimes supporting organization was of immense help to me. At that time, only MOD was talking about problems new mothers struggled with…and that only very superficially, but it helped. If asked, I will share those thoughts with you personally…but not here.
The first year I taught school (’79), when TheFirstSon was only a year old was anguishing. I suffered from severe insomnia, lying awake night after night, replaying the day’s events in my head (down to every word I spoke to or heard from my students and how I could have done “it” differently) and worrying about being a poor mother for leaving my baby with a sitter. I just knew that “they” would finally discover that I did not have a clue how to teach and would fire me…then I would be poor(er) and unable to feed and clothe our baby.
In 2002 and 2003 (yep, 23 years later), I had panic attacks so severe that I suffered nightly from night terrors and would go to work at 5 in the morning just so I could cover up the panic and anxiety with paperwork before teachers and students arrived. The first 6 months of that time, I would forget to eat for days and lost so much weight that jewelry literally fell off my wrists and fingers and were lost…only to swing into the other eating extreme the next 6 months.
This is NOT about me, it’s about the fact that I want to let you know that I truly understand so much of what you’ve posted here. You are not lacking in faith, you are not going to disappoint anybody, you do have permission to mess up and be just a good rather than a perfect mother from time to time.
Even now, at the advanced age of 50, I still can have a panic attack, especially if I’ve set a high expectation for myself and convince myself to be worried that I’ll mess up and others will find out I’m not perfect.
A boss I once worked for told me something that helped me and I hope it will help you. He said, “You’re a perfectionist, you have very high expectations of others but it’s nothing compared to the expectations you have for yourself. Nothing that anybody else says negatively about or to you even comes close to the negative conversations you have in your own head. Give yourself permission to be human.” I’m still working on that.
Probably the epiphany came with the realization in just the last year that God wired me just the way I am. He does not create us to be the way we are, drop us on earth and then throw up His hands and say, “What a faithless, weak creature this one is.” and then give up on us.
Yes, Peter did step out of the boat and walk in faith on the water until he took his eyes off Jesus and his faith was shaken. Did Christ let go of Peter’s hand and say, “You don’t have enough faith…you’re just hopeless, Peter.”? Nope…Christ held fast and coached Peter through his fear. Later, Peter himself suffered a panic attack when he was confronted by the crowd and denied Jesus out of fear of the crowd finding him out. I imagine Peter was almost crippled by the guilt he felt over having done that, but God forgave him and Peter continued to grow in God’s favor in spite of his imperfections and became Christ’s greatest warrior.
I believe that having anxiety, depression, panic attacks, depression, hypochondria (I really don’t think you were being a hypochondriac, btw.) are NOT at all connected with faith or the lack thereof. It’s what you do, in your relationship with God, with those things that address your faith. If you ask God for His help, guidance, intervention, etc. then that is, in my opinion, shows greater faith than if you give up and stop speaking to God or questioning your faith. Questioning one’s faith to me shows that you do have faith. It’s when we stop questioning our faith that we should worry, I believe.
Okay, very long-winded but it’s completely because of my love and concern for you. Life gets in the way, along with distance, so we don’t often get the chance for heart-to-hearts, thus this long post.
I love you.
Lonely Panic Attack…
Thanks for this post!…