Losing Hope

A few months passed after my mom and I had spoken about anxiety. She always would check in and see how things were going, yet I still I had not learned my lesson. I always said things were better and I was doing okay. When I look back at this I feel terrible because I think, "I lied to my mom." But, the thing was, I was not just lying to her - I was lying to myself. I felt like if I said things were terrible and I couldn't sleep and function than everything would become real, that I really would have anxiety or bigger issues and that I would never be the same. I desperately wanted everything to be the same.

I grew up in a extremely loving and supportive family. For much of my life my Dad and Mom were both teachers. My dad taught 6th grade while my mom taught preschool. We were actively involved in a church that I adored. Going to church was a time for me to be around people I cared about and knew cared about me. When I was about 14 my dad switched from teaching to being a pastor. My parents were real. They loved Jesus at church and at home. They never acted different and that showed me a lot about their character, but most of all their faith.

My faith didn't really become my own until I was a sophomore/junior in high school. Due to a number of different things that is the time in life where I really fell in love with Christ. Long story short.........many years passed.......anxiety attacked.

I remember praying and praying and praying that God would heal my anxiety, that He would take it away. I remember almost daily crying, pleading with God that if He took it away I would do anything. I remember really battling this. Thoughts in my head would say, "Erin, you are not a good enough Christian." "You do not have enough faith. If you had more faith you would be healed." "You must really not love God." These thoughts were so strong that I often believed them thinking I was a failure. I couldn't cope with a normal life, I couldn't do normal things and I obviously didn't have enough faith. In every part of my life I had lost hope.

I am sitting here really struggling to write this. I am not sure how to explain this aspect of my life. I know with people reading this that many of you are not believers. It is not my intentions to push my beliefs on you or make you feel uncomfortable, but my faith was as real as my anxiety and it is a part of my story I feel I need to share.

Looking back, I do not know what changed. I was never healed from my anxiety, but every time I would pray or read the Bible and really seek after God was when I had the most peace. I longed for peace.....a peace that would take me out of the current state in which I lived and move me to a place I longed to be. I came across a verse that changed a lot of how I viewed the whole situation.

"My health may fail, and my spirit may grow weak, but God remains the strength of my heart; he is mine forever." ~Psalm 73:26

My health was completely failing. My spirit was so weak it was fading, dying right before my eyes, but I truly believed that God was the strength of my heart. Coming to this understanding changed a lot of how I lived. Coming to this understanding is what led me to seek medical help. Coming to this understanding is what gave me the strength I needed to daily fight anxiety.