Recently I posted about how my anxiety has skyrocketed lately. It has been… to say the least… disconcerting.
I didn’t see the WHAM coming. I didn’t see the I-can’t-take-it-anymore coming.
I can tell you what spawned it, though.
Last week someone I knew casually years ago died in a car crash. She was in her thirties and left behind a fiance and teenaged son (and a multitude of other family members and friends). Tragic, to be sure, but you are probably thinking, …so? People die all. the. time. … it happens.
Why yes, yes it does. And I used to be okay with death (my own, at least). Sure, death was something scary that I could never really prepare for… but it was that way for everybody. When you know you are dying, it is scary because you do not know what to expect. Some die instantly or slip away unaware which is scary in other ways.
But, I thought, it would be okay if I died. I didn’t want to die, but it wouldn’t be earth-shattering if I did. I was saved by Jesus Christ, my husband would grieve but move on, and so would my family and friends. It would be a sad thing to happen, but when it came down to it, it would be okay for me to die.
But then I became a mother.
It is my firm belief that no one can love a child as a mother does. Obviously this is not true in every case as there are some mothers that are total crap and don’t deserve the honorable title of ‘mother’, but a good mother who loves her child with all her heart is truly indispensible.
Suddenly I was irreplaceable. I had this baby, this little girl, to live for. This suddenly huge, overwhelming responsibility to stay alive and not leave her motherless.
Perhaps if I were to die my husband would go on to remarry and my daughter would have a stepmother. But that woman would not be her mother, because her mother is me.
Now that I have Audrey, my own life is much more important to me. I am more valuable to myself. I matter more.
Because of her, I matter more. She needs me. I cannot leave her.
But things like car crashes happen everyday, leaving husbands and wives widowers or widows, children fatherless or motherless.
These things happen. I have to accept that this is true, and that any moment could be my last… yet, with this knowledge, I must also go on living without dwelling on this sad fact, lest it consume me completely and ruin me.
I can’t let that happen. I’m taking the Buspar and am yet to feel any real relief, though it has been only a few days. I’m hoping that it starts to help me reach calm again soon.
Somewhere in the bible it says to ‘not worry about tomorrow, because each day has enough troubles of its own.’ Whether or not you believe in the bible, my oh my is that ever a true statement! I do believe and readily confess that Jesus is Lord. I expect the Buspar to help, but I expect that ultimately Jesus will help me conquer this crippling anxiety and this fear. I need to get back into church, into the bible, into prayer…
I need Him.
Lord, calm me. Comfort me. Soothe my fears. Help me to be the mother you called me to be.