A Relapse
I had a relapse, but it was full of redemption.
Just under two weeks ago, Nick and I were capping out our wild summer with a quick anniversary trip. My mom and stepdad graciously kept the kids so we could sneak away, thank God for His faithfulness in the last 17 years, and pre-celebrate the year to come.
You, my friends, know I’ve been fighting anxiety this year, culminating in a full-on assault this summer. I’ve seen professionals, I’ve processed, I’ve prayed, I’ve been prayed for, I’ve taken supplements and sleep aids, and I’ve honestly experienced so much healing + breakthrough.
My acute anxiety symptoms started subsiding in June, and the last time I truly felt panic in my body was boarding the plane to Togo on June 26th.
And then… the anniversary trip.
My friends: we were just sitting by a pool. Not arguing. Not discussing important world matters. I was reading a novel and enjoying the sun (under SPF cover), and suddenly my chest felt tight, and my breathing felt shallow. I tried to take a few deep breaths, I blinked back some hot tears welling up in my eyes, and I used every quiet strategy I had to push back the panic. Finally, after a few minutes of silently struggling, I turned to Nick and told him what was going on.
Thirty minutes later, I was in the thick of a full-blown panic attack in our hotel room. My body and mind were struggling, but my soul was also incredibly frustrated because I’D EXPERIENCED SO MUCH HEALING. Why was this happening? And on our anniversary trip? The anxiety was crippling, but the shame was defeating. Where had my victory gone?
An hour after that, my nervous system had returned to almost normal. And as I lay in our room processing and praying about what had just happened, I was struck with two tremendous encouragements straight from the heart of God:
My experience of panic didn’t forfeit my victory and my healing. If nothing else, that momentary experience of trauma reinforced my trust in God to help me through this brokenness my body + soul are experiencing. I was reminded again that anxiety isn’t proof of something wrong with me; it’s proof that I’m human. What’s more: all the strategies that helped me ward off panic attacks helped me fight through this one and return to peace afterward.
I was again thankful for the beauty of a marriage that isn’t built on our tidiness. Nick has never loved me for my capacity to hold it all together, and my weaknesses and struggles (as well as his) are a perfect canvas for patience, the power of God, and genuine kindness to take root.
Lastly, I’ll end with this - since we’re no-filter friends.
It’s been very tender to share my stories about anxiety with you all. Not because I’m ashamed, but because the stigma is so real, an unkind word about such a vulnerable topic would be painful.
But the risk is worth the reward if even one of my friends has been encouraged about the potential victory and healing in this struggle. If even one of you has been able to have more compassion for someone you know who is fighting anxiety… if even one of you has been encouraged to let the light hit your darker places - it has been worth it.
A few of you have emailed to share testimonies like that + I am incredibly grateful.
Thanks for being such great, safe, compassionate pals.
I love you, genuinely.
Jess