I need you now. . . I need you most . . .

This is another guest blog that discusses anxiety and depression.  The author, Jessica Warner, is a familiar contributor if you have read the blog in the past month.  Jessica is an amazingly compassionate, caring, and selfless person who, like all of us, struggles with something.  I share this today because it is important to appreciate that we see a lot of different faces in our daily walks and we never know what is going on behind their eyes, underneath their breath, and in their souls. Hug someone today.  Listen to a friend.  Text your mom just to say you love her.  Tell your kids you love them.  Listen. Just listen. Smile at EVERYONE… it may be the only positive moment in their seemingly happy day.

Most days I am a mess wrapped in anxiety and depression and panic attacks-tied together with a pretty ribbon. And the only thing keeping me from a breakdown are small parcels of hope wrapped in helium balloons- ready to fly away at any second. The parcels of hope haven’t always been what you would expect. Some days those balloons are filled with dead-of-night-dark thoughts. And I chase them. I grab onto those strings and pray the balloons won’t pop. I grab those strings and I tie them around my wrists and hope if they fly away, they will take me with them. Or pray that they are tied tight enough to do some damage. The hope that one day, all this will end...whatever that means.

There’s only one problem. There’s no floating away with the world’s heaviest balloons. They weigh me down like bricks tied to my ankles, running through knee deep sand. They bring me down. If I was in water I would be drowning. Sometimes I wish I was drowning. Sometimes I think I am. Can tears drown you? The salt water falling from my face makes me feel weak. If I can’t handle this, what’s wrong with me? I should be able to handle this. The salt water falling from my face reminds me of ocean waves- because they crash over me each time, I strive to take a breath. It’s like those stupid balloons followed me here. My ocean of anxiety and panic. How am I supposed to escape when I can’t see the shore? Can’t go back, can’t stay here. My body is tired of fighting the constant state of dread. My hands shake, my stomach hurts, my head aches. I let my darkened balloons take over out of sheer exhaustion. Sometimes they let out air- so subtle that you can just barely make out the sound of “not good enough” “not worthy” ...but it sounds like an explosion in my head. And I let them scream at me? Why am I okay with letting the weight of my own thoughts sink me? Even when it doesn’t make sense, it’s like I can’t stop. 

Until one day, I’ve had enough. 

Enough dread. 

Enough worry. 

Enough pain. 

Enough fear. 

Enough sadness. 

Enough hurt. 

Enough pity. 

Enough drowning. 

Enough. 

I have had enough. 

I am enough. 

The wind finally shakes the balloons free, and amid the explosion, there is calm. Peace. My head above water, my feet planted. And it’s almost easy to forget how I felt a minute ago. My dark balloons are floating above the trees, toward the sun. I realize I don’t need them. I see now that I never really did. And I don’t want them. The freedom feels so good. I feel it in my soul. A shift. Light and airy. I know I am valuable and lovable and capable and responsible. I find new balloons. I fill them with my dreams and gratitude and faith and self-love. I let them carry my through the forest of bright flowers and breathe deep the aroma of change, no longer holding my breath. Sometimes the rain still falls, but my balloons keep me above the current. They remind me that whatever comes next does not come as an ending, but a fresh start. A clean slate. A new perspective. If I keep fighting, even when the balloons get heavy, I will never be stuck on the bottom. 

If you struggle with ANXIETY click here for some help…

Also, this song inspired her to write this blog. . . I appreciate you Jess. 

If you are struggling, it’s okay…help is only a prayer away.