On Anxiety, Control, and Getting to Grow

PART 1: ANXIETY + COMPASSION. 

I’ve been struggling with acute anxiety since the start of the pandemic. Once every few months, the “stress” of it would bubble up into physical symptoms - a sleepless night, chest tightening, unexplained tears. I think the reality of the pandemic would be enough to make a lot of people feel like that - but for me, I also think my mind used the pandemic as a boat to float all my fears on. And most of them were rooted in feeling too responsible, always on the hook, and terrified to trust God.

In January, the anxiety symptoms started popping to the surface more often. By April, the symptoms felt debilitating. In the last few months, I’ve been doing everything I knew how to bring relief: journaling, changing my exercise + diet, prayer and scripture, vitamins, and talking to my spiritual director, doctors, and professionals. Now, in mid-June, I can say: I’m beginning to feel some relief - thank you, Jesus. 

I feel a lot of compassion for my body that has been white-knuckling it through the last few years. I feel compassion from God for my body that is experiencing these extreme symptoms. But I’m still left with some lingering questions in my soul, not necessarily about how I could have avoided this fight - but how I can move forward with more victory in the future.

Part II: PLANNING VS. CONTROL.

For my whole adult life, planning has made me feel safe. I actually tried the other day to figure out when I became a semi-obsessive planner, and my earliest memories are around my freshman year of college. By my junior year of college, when I was engaged earlier than most of my friends and trying to graduate a year early: planning was how I kept my head above water. 

I distinctly remember the day after I got engaged, making a diagram of what order I wanted my bridesmaids to stand in on my wedding day - less than 24 hours after getting proposed to and over a year before our wedding would happen. I don’t think I was bridezilla; I just think my 20-year-old brain needed something to make sense of. I have compassion for her too.

So, I plan everything. 

But, now, on what I pray is the downslope of a massive anxiety spike - I’m asking myself: What is planning, and what is pretending that you have control? What’s the line between having some things thought out, so you feel safe to be present in the moment vs. allowing yourself to trust God to be God - better than you imagined in the good times and close + comforting in the bad ones?

I’m ready to potentially back peddle and find the more worshipful line in those swirling waters of tension. 

PART III: WE GET TO GROW.

Some people hate planning and love spontaneity, and that is their super-power. I don’t want to change them. 

My super-power is that I can have a lot on my plate; rather - I can have a lot of plates on my platter, as long as I understand the purpose + plan for most things. I don’t want to change me! 

But I do want to know when it’s time to stop planning and when it’s time to be present. Because planning is no good unless, at some predetermined moment, the plan becomes the present - and you soak up the goodness and glory of God in it.

And, all this is to say, I did that last week. 

I took my daughter Glory to her first concert. I know it was her first concert because she squealed a few times on the 3-hour drive there, saying, “IT’S MY FIRST CONCERT!”. 

And for a few amazing hours, I was super present with her. Present to hear her singing the lyrics she loved, present to the beauty of the band doing what they love, present to see old friends sitting in front of us by accident, present enough to break into a huge smile as my daughter hugged me throughout the show. 

I was present enough to chase down the singer she desperately wanted to meet, present to process the amazing moment as we left, and present to bask in the afterglow of this core memory of hers. Of ours. 

And today, I’m just excited that we as humans grow. We heal. We change. And sometimes, we learn to let all that planning and preparation lead to something - living life.

The concert was a baby step, but it was also a huge win.

Thanks for sharing this no-filter moment with me,

Jess