Anxious for Everything

Before we go any further, it’s important for me to share something.

I struggle with anxiety.

Early Mental Health Struggles

Some of my earliest memories were anxious ones. I had terrible separation anxiety when I was a preschooler. My Sunday school teachers would try to comfort me as I cried for my parents, but the only thing that helped was when they set up a cardboard box in the back of the classroom—I would literally crawl inside and sit in my dark little safe haven for the entire morning. I still remember how sick I felt every Sunday morning when my parents dropped me off, and the massive sense of relief when they came back to get me.

My mom used to say: “Nobody else needs to worry about anything—Julie is doing all the worrying for us!” I worried about everything. I was so scared of storms I would get sick and sometimes even throw up. I was afraid of the water and would only swim in the pool with a life jacket. I worried my school bus would catch fire and explode (did I mention I had a very robust imagination?)—to the point my mom had to drive me to school for months because I broke down every time someone tried to get me onto the bus.

Growing In Fear

I grew older, and the anxiety got worse, until one day I had a full-blown anxiety attack that landed me in the emergency room. As I watched my heart rate skyrocket to 140 on the monitor, I was convinced I was having a heart attack and would die at any moment. For a week afterwards, the anxiety was so bad I couldn’t even leave my house.

The world was an oppressive place for me and even the sunniest days felt dark. I was, quite honestly, anxious about everything. Even when I wasn’t consciously worrying about something, there was still a roiling feeling in my stomach and my throat felt tight. People thought I was standoffish, but the truth was it took everything just to keep my anxiety under control and to appear “normal”—being social required energy I simply didn’t have.

Beginning to Heal

Last summer, after decades of misery and ineffective treatments, my husband and I prayed and decided I should try neurofeedback. It was life-changing. Although the feelings of anxiety have not (nor will they ever) fully go away, I can honestly say I am no longer the prisoner to anxiety I once was.

As I began to heal and as my mind was freed from thinking solely of myself and my internal battles, I started to think about all the people who are struggling with mental illness. About the people who are afraid to talk about it, or who feel weak when they even think about seeking help. And I realized that, in a way, I was contributing to the stigma surrounding mental illness by not being more transparent about mine. At God’s prompting I confessed my struggles with anxiety on social media, which basically felt like outing myself to my entire world. It was one of the scariest things I have ever done. But it was also incredibly freeing to expose to the light that which had been held in darkness for so long.

The Importance of Speaking Out

As it turns out, it wasn’t about me—at least not entirely. God used my obedience and vulnerability to allow others to realize their own mental illness wasn’t shameful and that it’s okay to talk about it. I actually had several people reach out to thank me for being so open, and then with relief they confessed their own hidden struggles.

I believe the enemy wants nothing more than to keep Christians from talking about mental health issues. By keeping it secret, it has more power over us. And when something besides God has power over us, we can never live the lives He intended. We become so consumed with fighting the battles in our own minds we can’t fight for God’s kingdom. We are too filled with anxiety to go out and serve others. We are too defeated by depression to get up off the floor and teach our children about God’s love. We are a powerful force. God’s children, filled with God’s glory, cannot be stopped…unless we allow ourselves to be stopped by allowing the enemy to deceive us into hiding within ourselves.

I know our suffering is never wasted, and that God had a purpose for my walk through the valley. I believe that purpose is to help others who are walking through the same valley. I hope every person who reads this can search their own hearts and extend grace to themselves or, if mental health has never been an issue for you, to those around you who may be suffering. And for those of you who are struggling with mental health issues, I pray you will truly understand there is no shame in this, and that you will find the strength to reach out so you can receive the healing and abundant life God so deeply desires for your mind and spirit.