Aftershocks

 Two weeks ago I had anxiety attack.  Now it wasn’t an 8 on the Richter Scale or anything, but it was definitely enough to rattle my walls.  Since then I’ve experienced several ‘aftershocks’.  One of the worst things about my particular brand of this disorder is that I become hypersensitive.  In particular, my heightened awareness and sensitivity goes beyond physical anomalies occurring inside my body – like small headaches, body aches, the progression of my digestion, clicks and pops of my joints, tiny nerve or muscle spasms.  Yes, I begin to notice everything around me too – my messy room, a dirty glass on the table, a late appointment, forgotten to-do list, a blouse that won’t button, the inflection in someone’s voice,   sighs, expressions – I could go on here for days, but you get the idea.  Of course I don’t just notice - I then become grossly irritable, agitated, and then just mean.  There is no intended victim of my offenses, just anyone that happens to be in the immediate line of fire.

No, this is not my proudest moment.  No, there is not an excuse.  No, there is no “but” coming.

My family has become accustomed to this shameful routine, as they are almost always the casualties of my short fuse and sharp tongue.  I see it in their body language, how they approach me, how they often wave the white flag and even how they argue with me – and now how they argue with each other.  I can see what the last 8 years has done to them, how it has affected who they are, how they approach their own challenges and how they receive their own joy and happiness.  Wow.  As I look over and watch them sleep this morning I could really kick myself for how unpleasant this has been on them.  I could sit here and cry all morning about how unfair it is that they have been so affected by my mess.  If bandits tied me to a train track, what kind of mom would say, “oh yeah, can you grab my husband and my kids and tie them up next to me”?  Duh!  That wouldn’t happen.  So, how have I allowed this dark cloud to damage these beautiful people I love so dearly?  More importantly, how have I allowed myself to participate in that hurt?

 

I really have tried to keep them separate from my disorder, but surely I can do a better job of this.  I know the healing is coming, it’s here, but it is not complete.  Perhaps quakes or aftershocks will happen again but I pray for some restraint in lashing out on the people around me.  In 1 Corinthians, chapter 13 the bible says:  Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.⁵ It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. ⁶ Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. ⁷ It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.⁸ Love never fails.

God has told us that the greatest gift is love, that we can do all things through Christ whom he gave us because he loved us so much.  So, I pray not just for restraint but for love to win out over fear.