This is probably the longest stint I’ve gone without writing – even just writing for myself.
There have been some amazing moments over the past month or so. I got married (well, civil unioned whatever) to my best friend and the love of my life – Kelly. I got to share a little from my heart in front of my church and mother-in-law. I’m taking a position of greater responsibility and hopefully ministry at Urban Village, our church home. We go to family dinners on Sunday nights with my sister and her family. We just got the internet so I can now write and publish to my heart’s content. We have an awesome iPod stereo thing so we can be all awesome and listen to music in
the our apartment. Good times. Great things are happening. And yet…
There have been some very dark times. There have been nights that the darkness overtakes me and I relapsed. I cut. There have been moments that felt like years – that my chest feels like it’s caving in and I cannot catch my breath. I’ve been sent home early from work three times because of this darkness. One day I couldn’t even go in. There was that Monday night at 9:30 that the doctor called and said they found a mass in my uterus. That I should bring my new wife with me to an appointment with a specialist later on in the week.
Then there was that Wednesday that I sat across from a Psychiatrist who handed me a prescription for Paxil and Klonopin. I’m not sure which category that fits into. On one hand I thought I was done with meds over a decade ago. I feel defeated. I feel less than. I feel that those smarter than I am think I’m crazy. I feel like a lost cause. I feel like all the time I’ve put into therapy trying to get over these demons was for nothing.
But the other part of me is relieved to have a weapon to fight these anxiety attacks that come out from nowhere. I’ve only had to take the Klonopin once. When I took it, it kicked anxiety’s ass. That night I felt back to my old self. I picked Kelly up on the way to a friend’s house and she kissed me and said she could see that I was me again. The pill was short lived though. I was a half hour late to a meeting the next day because I let the anxiety overtake me and I was stubborn and refused the help of the medication.
I feel the need to spin this piece and make it be about finding the light in the darkness. Being light so the darkness won’t affect me. But truthfully, I’m not there. I’m in the darkness and can’t see the light. I’m scared and hurt.
It hurts to breath when I walk out of our apartment. Every time a customer walks into my store I get terrified. My sales have slipped dramatically because I don’t attempt to engage. I only sell things when I absolutely have to. I have to take a few minutes and go sit in the snow outside to calm down. I’m terrified that all of this stress is too much for our new and young marriage. It’s been 3 weeks and we’ve already gone through more pain and struggle than I thought possible. Throughout it all though, she’s been there for me. She’s gone to the appointments. She brought meds to me at work the first panic attack. She amazingly enough still loves me. But there’s that fear… that this darkness will break us. This is a darkness I’ve never experienced. I pray you never have to.