Guys, I have an incurable disease.
So, on Sundays I sometimes like to make weekly goals. They're usually something small and very doable that I can work on throughout the week to better myself or fix bad habits or start good ones. Last Sunday, it was to start reading my scriptures every day again. I've neglected that habit for far too long lately which I tend to do when life gets crazy which is completely backwards thinking because scripture study tends to help calm me down a whole lot. But I digress. Back to the story of my incurable illness.
So. Two Sundays ago, I decided that my weekly goal would be to stop worrying. I decided that I need to just hand things to my Father in Heaven and when that familiar panic rises up inside of me, I would stop and say a prayer and ask that He take away that fear and replace it with faith. I think worrying -to a certain degree- displays a lack of faith and I dislike that quality in me.
Well, that first week went rather well, actually. Mostly this was due to the fact that there was little to worry about that week. I mean, it was craziness being as we are in the middle of this huge move and are trying to get things figured out, but things went smoothly in general and were pretty predictable which cuts down my anxiety levels significantly. That being said, however, I will give myself a proverbial pat on the back for my accomplishment that week because I tend to find chaos and confusion in the simplest of situations. So when those moments arose, I really did take some time to just pray and think and be quiet and still and remind myself that my Father in Heaven was watching over me. It was a nice week and good practice. I decided that I needed to continue to practice this goal until I'd perfected it. And then Heavenly Father stepped in. It seems He is going to help me meet this goal. And I'm not loving the process, but I really think that I'm going to love the end result.
This week has been the complete opposite of last week. (Is it really only Tuesday??) NOTHING has gone right. Everything that you could possible think of has gone wrong. I feel tiny and the world feels huge and unconquerable. I feel like I'm running out of time and that deadlines are pressing on me and suffocating me. I feel like my brain is overloaded and I'm bound to neglect something necessary by accident. I feel insignificant to my tasks. I feel alone in having to figure out how to complete these tasks. I feel neglected and abandoned and helpless. And I feel scared because I have a little life who is going to come out and be entirely dependent on this mommy who currently feels like she might as well be four years old.
When I was 17, I was diagnosed with anxiety. It's been a struggle since high school for me to maintain my anxiety levels, but I've done well at training my mind to re-direct in positive ways and have curbed a lot of the side-effects of my anxiety. I haven't had a panic attack in a good two and a half years. I've been able to sleep. Nightmares have subsided. My brain allows me to think through things clearly and reasonably. And I've been, overall, able to live life happily and uninhibited by panic and fear for some time now. Then I got pregnant. I wasn't expecting that. I didn't feel ready for it. It wasn't part of my 'plan'. And so this anxiety thing has started slowly creeping into my brain again. I'd forgotten what it felt like to feel trapped in your mind. I'd forgotten what it felt like to wake up at five in the morning and be unable to go back to sleep because you can't stop your mind from going over and over things for hours until the sun comes up and you finally give up and get out of bed. I'd forgotten how lonely it was to live in constant worry and fear. (Literally, it is constant. It doesn't matter what I'm doing; my heart is beating, my brain is spinning and I'm thinking about a million different things all at once. There is no rest, no break, no time-out...I am in constant panic.) But I'm starting to remember, unfortunately.
It's so frustrating because I feel like I'm doing the same things I was doing last week; stopping, praying, etc, but they aren't having the same effect. No matter how often or how sincerely I ask Heavenly Father to take away this panic and worry, I'm just not giving it to Him. I'm harboring it and stewing in it. I'm not allowing myself to have faith that He is watching me...that He loves me...that He will provide for me. Why? Why do I do this so often? When I have so many life experiences that have shown me that He DOES love me and DOES provide for me. I worry and stew and fear and then time passes and everything works out (usually better than I could have made it work out) and then I go, "Man. I need to stop worrying about stuff. It does no good. Everything always works out. I am so incredibly blessed. Why do I ever worry about things?" And then in another week or so, I begin the vicious cycle of fear all over again.
I'm so done! This is why I set the goal. And by gum, I'm sticking to it! I'm sort of excited that Heavenly Father is helping me with this goal. It makes me think that He believes in my ability to do it. I have to teach myself how to think through these types of things in a completely different way than I ever have. And that's going to take some time. I need to be patient with myself and realize that I'm not going to 'chill out' over night. This is a major part of my personality that I'm trying to change. It's imbedded in my brain and this kind of behavior doesn't go away in one week. So, I'm going to take this little time of stress in my life as a learning opportunity and try to learn and grow from it. I hope that my faith will be strengthened and that I'll remind myself how to rely on my Father in Heaven. I hope that it will strengthen my relationship with Him and that my testimony and understanding of the Atonement will grow as well.
I'll let you know how it goes. Prayers are highly appreciated, byyyy the way. Especially in regards to my figuring out how to get medical care before Luke makes his grand entrance into the world.