This article contains one of the hardest things I have ever shared with my readers. Despite the difficulty, it is part of my story, and I believe it is important for others to know that all the happy stories we read don’t come without tough times. I am human just like you, so life hits me hard at different times just like it does for millions of others. God has truly blessed me and sharing that with others is important.
In 2016, our family faced a difficult time. It was a situation that none of us ever expected, and like others, we certainly never expected it to happen to us. But it did, and I had honestly never experienced trauma like it before. In the end, the amount of stress and anxiety it caused was almost too much for me to bear.
As a wife and mother of two, I felt like I was strong enough to handle anything. I was wrong. I could not sleep. I could not function. It was such a gut-wrenching experience that I had trouble putting one foot in front of the other. Thus, I entered a time of coping, for that was all I knew to do.
After weeks of anxiety and many unknowns, I turned to my physician for help rather than my pastor. I know that in some instances we need both, but my situation proved otherwise.
I remember making my appointment and sitting to talk to my doctor. I really just needed help to make sense of the chaos surrounding me and the unanswered questions I had. But my doctor felt that giving me medication to fix each one of those issues would be my best solution, so I trusted him.
At first, the medication helped. I began to rest better, and my anxiety began to calm down somewhat. But my family’s ordeal lasted for over three years, so after a while, the medication didn’t work as well, and I fell into a very dark place.
As hard as it was for me to endure this, it was even harder for my family to watch me allow stress and anxiety and the need to medicate overcome my life. It is hard even to share this with anyone, but I believe there are others out there that have gone through or are going through a similar situation.
Physicians aren’t God and never will be! They aren’t all bad, but your research must be done before jumping into any treatment.
I do believe that allowing our minds to wander off too far can cause us to drift into a state of depression, and if not recognized early, the outcomes aren’t good for anyone. So rather than stigmatize others or shun them over mental health problems, love them. Recognize the signs.
I became so good at hiding what was really going on, that only those closest to me could see what was happening. I could have destroyed so much, just because I felt like there was no hope.
I am very fortunate to have a wonderful husband, children, pastor, and church family that came around to love me during what felt like the darkest days of my life. They didn’t provide magic pills, but they gave me sound, biblical counsel and accountability, walking through the battle with me. They enabled me to not feel guilty and also to know that I was not alone. That love was hard at times, but it was what I needed.
I am now blessed with the best physician who knows my story and won’t allow me to get back to that dark place.
My outlook has also changed. I removed myself from things that triggered me and made better decisions. I have learned to say no. My circle isn’t as big as it once was and that's okay. Instead, I am focused on fulfilling the purpose God has for me in bringing glory to Him as a wife, mother, grandmother, daughter, caretaker, homemaker, and friend. I am blessed to have a job that allows me to work from home and share little parts of my life with others.
I pray that this story blesses others who also struggle and that in sharing this, they, too, will learn that there is hope. God will carry you through the storm and the joy on the other side is indescribable. Trust Him!
To connect with the author of this story, or to comment, email firstname.lastname@example.org.
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