Panic, nausea & a whole lot of grace

"We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed."

~2 Corinthians 4:8-9

To say the past month has been rough on me is a fairly large understatement. I suffered from panic attacks years & years ago, partially a result of birth control but I hadn't had a full blown one in YEARS before having one on the 21st of May. It came out of nowhere, took me by surprise and sent me reeling for a few weeks. Anxiety begets anxiety in a vicious cycle if you cannot stop it. The first attack was followed by a smaller one Sunday, and 2 more the following Thursday & Friday. Right about when I caught a digestive bug, which wrecked havoc on my body for nearly a week before subsiding. In the middle of all of that my reflux became unbearable leading to near debilitating nausea, (I think it was made worse by the bug)...so that's been my month, at least the tough parts of it.

Before I go further I should clear the air about panic attacks because I think many people who have not experienced them do not understand (even those of us who have don't really). To a degree they are controllable, you can stop yourself from allowing the anxiety, thoughts, etc... from taking hold & resulting in a panic attack. Sometimes, however, your body goes there regardless of your conscious effort to stop it. Your "fight or flight" instinct overrides the rest of your nervous system, adrenaline is dumped and off you go. They aren't fun, they're terrible to say the least and the "fall out" afterward (a result of the adrenaline wearing off) is nearly as bad as the actual attack. They can hit you out of nowhere, whether you are feeling particularly anxious or not. For example, I've had one hit me in the middle of a pleasant dinner with friends, no obvious reason what so ever.

Anyway, I do not share this with you to complain about what I have been through but to share what God has done in my life and heart in the midst of it all. You see, I'm a hypochondriac, there I said it. I am not sure when it began but somewhere along the way I started freaking out at the thought of dying & consequently freaking out about every little thing that may (or may not) be going on with my body. During the first round of panic attacks, in 2001 I think, I was constantly afraid I was going to suffer a brain aneurism and die. I wasn't completely unfounded in thinking something was wrong with my head, my neck turned out to be so out of line it took several visits to the chiropractor to fix it, but the mere fact that my brain assumed it was life threatening was enough. At the time I thought I was losing my mind, because a part of me knew that it was in my head (no pun intended) but I couldn't control my mind from going there. Those of you who were around me at the time know for that month or two I was volatile, emotional, slightly depressed & utterly at a loss as to what was happening. Eventually we learned that the year I had spent on birth control had left me hormonally off balance & suffering heart palpitations, so I got off of it. I spent time in prayer, got some counseling and over time the attacks stopped.

So there, there's where I've been and a little about what I suffered. I imagine you can gather from what I told you above that when my first major panic attack in years struck I was beside myself. It was so bad I had to pull my car over, fortunately I was near a family friend's shop and she was able to pray with me. I was embarrassed, shocked and honestly, ashamed, I had a lot of shame regarding my "issue”. Part of the reason I am sharing now is to push myself past that shame, to allow God to heal me through writing but also to help anyone else who may suffer panic attacks from feeling that same shame. There is nothing to be ashamed of if you suffer panic attacks, the shame will only serve to keep you in the place where you may keep having them, so let it go, you'll feel better for it.

Shortly after the first attack I began to pray, fervently, passionately crying out to God. The truth is in the last several years I have lived a pretty stagnate Christian life. After all God has done for me, after all I have seen, I was as stale as bread left out for a week. I still looked like a Christian from the outside, but on closer inspection I was getting hard & brittle, with little "nutrition" to offer anyone. Some of you may be surprised at this confession, I hid it well, but it's the truth. I had become so distracted by worldly things, face book, tv, books, etc...I had lost sight of my God and as a result, lost sight of who I truly am, who God desires to make me into, all that I could be. I was bitter, frustrated, depressed, more cynical, easier to offend, quicker to anger, essentially of the things that I really am not, but it was what I was becoming. That panic attack was a wake up call, I was drowning and I didn't even know my feet were wet.

I'd like to tell you that my crying out brought instantaneous deliverance, but it didn't. Following my decision to listen to what I felt God was telling me; no more crime tv for awhile, no more secular crime novels (here is where my compromising was really evident, some of the books I read where garbage), no more checking face book 50x a day, get my bootie to Fresh Start, forgive my husband; I had the hardest week I have had in ages. It's like Satan took one look at my rapidly changing heart and said "oh crap, better start chucking the good stuff at her", in an attempt to cut my legs out from under me before I had even fully stood. I had two more panic attacks that next week, big ones and I got sick, real sick. I am not sure how much of my illness was a bug and how much was reflux/anxiety related stuff but boy did I feel terrible. I felt terrible, add to it my flair for the "health dramatic" and I was reeling even more. Here's the thing though, God was there. He did not abandon me the moment I slid right back into my hypochondriac mind, or had another panic attack, he did not wash his hands of my humanity. He stood by me, held me up, gave me scripture and held me close when I needed it. At one point I was so lost as to what to pray for I just opened my bible & read straight from it, only to find the words were exactly what I was feeling. He helped me to begin to see the root of my issues, the areas in my heart that needed a revamping. I did see a doctor for the physical aspect of it, because something truly was going on. I was able to get medicine for my reflux, medical advice on some other issues. The nausea took awhile to subside, I imagine because my reflux was so bad, but slowly I began to feel better.

I did have yet another panic attack, about 10 days after the bad ones, while camping with friends. It felt out of the blue, although it had been an emotionally/physically exhausting day, it happened before I even had a chance to think about what was happening. Thankfully it didn't last long, the "fall out" was rough, adding to the adrenaline was the fact my electrolytes were out of balance from some other digestive "issues". Even worse then that was my disappointment in the fact it happened at all. I was mad, frustrated and ashamed. I felt like I had failed, like wasn't doing what I was supposed to, or I wasn't strong enough to beat it, or maybe God had deserted me after all (I mean it's not like I've been a good friend to him lately). Later that same night I opened a year-long devotional (Beth Moore's Breaking Free) I had recently purchased to the day’s date. This is what it said:

"Here is the endurance & the faith of the saints".~ Revelation 13:10

How does a believer get her thoughts to bow to the truth? By believing, speaking, and applying the truth as a lifestyle. This step is something we live, not just something we do.

We can't just shout "Sit!" and expect the dog to stay there for a week. We've worked long and hard to get that dog to sit, but it's not going to sit forever. We don't achieve victory once and never have to bother with that thought problem again. Our thought life is something we'll be working on the rest of our lives in our desire to be godly.

I have to tell you, I nearly laughed out loud when I read this. Not because it’s funny, but because of how incredible God is. I mean, come on, what are the odds that on that day Beth Moore would address in her devotional (365 pages long) the very thing I was struggling with? My guess is they are pretty high, until you add the "God factor". God speaks in a variety of ways, it isn't always a booming voice from a burning bush (in fact I've never had a "Moses experience") sometimes it's through other people, even people we've never met in a book we'd never heard of until stumbling upon it on amazon.com. Let me tell you what though, I got the message. I've got to be patient, to wait patiently upon God, seeking him, crying out to him, telling him how I feel; whether it's fear, anger, frustration, elation, disappointment, excitement, sadness, joy, etc... He wants me to give it ALL to him, the good, the bad & the ugly. He desires relationship with me, ME- the one who had neglected him for years, ME- who sometimes lets my imagination get the better of me, ME- who let myself become so engrossed in the world I was reading books full of swearing/horrible crimes, ME- who allowed bitterness/anger to change my relationship with my husband, & effect my relationships with friends & family. The truth is he doesn't see me as any of these things, he sees past my failures into my heart, he sees me as he meant for me to be, to who I truly am- not the mess I made of myself. He loves Renee, that's it, no labels just me and I am thankful. Those who don't share my faith may think that it was my strength of character or will that has slowly lifted my feet from the muck I was in, I can assure it was not. My "strength of will" was gone, the only place I was going was down, sinking further into my pit until I lost myself in it.

I am currently in a process, I am not totally free from being a hypochondriac, even today I struggled with wondering what exactly had happened in the pool during the tri. I didn’t entertain the thought, wouldn’t “go there”, I prayed and gave it up to God. What’s the worse case? I have some crazy heart defect that’s going to kill me someday, so what. I trust God, I trust him with my life, I trust him with my family. If I can “settle in the extreme” as my cousin calls it, I take away the very tool the enemy is using to try and destroy me, fear. No, I don’t really think I have a heart defect that is going to kill me, I’m just saying. God is working in me and I have full faith that one day I will be free, God wants to set me free. He doesn’t want to see me bound by fear, but joyous in him. I am excited for what God is doing, the changes he has made in my heart and the impact those changes have already had on my family. I am expectant for great things in my future. Does this mean my life will be roses & chocolate from now on? Certainly not, it never is, but I can find joy in God, always.

"I waited patiently for the Lord, he turned to me and hear my cry.

He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the muck and the mire;

he set my feet upon a rock and gave me a firm place to stand.

He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God.

Many will see and fear and put their trust in the Lord."

~Psalm 40:1-3