That Terrifying Leap of Faith

I finally read the book Crazy Love by Francis Chan. I feel like it was the popular thing to read in Christian circle like 7 years ago, but I never read it then. 


Overall, I enjoyed it. While it did not seem to present anything that I hadn't heard before, it sure did discuss some topics I haven't heard about in a long time. 

Two quotes from the book that I can't get out of my mind: 

"But God doesn't call us to be comfortable. He calls us to trust Him so completely that we are unafraid to put ourselves in situations where we will be in trouble if He doesn't come through."

"I wrote this book because much of our talk doesn't match our lives. We say things like, 'I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me,' and 'Trust in the Lord with all your heart.' Then we live and plan like we don't believe God even exists. We try to set our lives up so everything will be fine even if God doesn't come through. But true faith means holding nothing back. It means putting every hope in God's fidelity to His promises."

I haven't thought about that terrifying leap of faith in a long time. I thrive off my planning. I am that person who says I trust God, but has a backup plan worked out to the very last detail in case God doesn't come through. That's simply not trust. And you know what? It's that excessive planning and trying with everything I have to maintain control that causes most of my anxiety. 

So where do we draw the line between radical trust and irresponsibility? I just can't not have a plan. That seems foolish. But there are so many stories of people who radically trust God and don't plan a thing - and God works it all out. 

Proverbs 3:5-6 --

"Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths." 

I'm addicted to leaning on my own understanding. This is one area I feel that God is really trying to teach me to work on right now. He's tried to teach me this before, but I've just sort of wiggled my way out of it by starting to plan again and just never taking that leap of faith. 

I desperately want more faith, and I think putting myself in a situation like this will help. For me at this point, that may mean sacrificing a fourth year rotation - which I should be using to prepare me for residency - to go back to Honduras. But it just doesn't make sense. I can't see how spending a month in Honduras will prepare me for the intensity of intern year in internal medicine. But I realized I haven't had peace about my fourth year schedule and maybe this is why. But that's the thing - I love to talk about taking this leap of faith. The idea of going on an adventure and giving God full control is exciting. But when it comes down to actually making the decisions and taking the steps for it, I always chicken out. I just don't yet have the faith I need to get me to the place where I can gain the faith that I want. 

I do trust God. Before my first biology exam of college 7 years ago I remember praying, "God, I've done my part, I leave the rest to you." My planning and studying was first. It was the primary thing I was depending on. Then I asked God to compensate for whatever weaknesses  I had left. I'm now wondering if this is proper way to have faith. It's mediocre trust that doesn't maximize God's potential. It makes it about me when it should all be about Him. 

Now the question is -- will I take that terrifying leap of faith or continue to settle for mediocre trust? 

A Diagnosis

I walked out of the doctor's office with a pile of papers. A welcome packet, a copy of my insurance card, and an appointment card with my follow up. In the midst of all that was a "visit summary." I glanced at the section titled "Diagnoses from Today's Visit." Was this for real? 

"Generalized Anxiety Disorder."

Just to make things even more interesting, I looked under "New Medications." 

"Lexapro 10 mg per day." 

How did this even happen? What pushed me to finally go see a doctor with my deepest darkest secrets? Two reasons: It was getting worse and I had had enough. I couldn't live one more day trapped inside my mind. 

I haven't been praying much. But before this appointment, I prayed that I would be able to accurately represent how I feel in words to this doctor. And that's exactly what happened. He had no questions at all about my diagnosis or my need for treatment. It was simple - I have anxiety and it interferes with my ability to function normally; therefore, it warrants treatment. 

The simple, objective view was so refreshing. Finally, my troubles were out there and no longer running in circles around my mind. Before I knew it, I had agreed to try an SSRI. It felt like a rushed decision at the time, but 2 weeks later, I'm confident it was the right one. I couldn't make it one more day without doing something. I couldn't just sit around and keep waiting for things to get better when I knew they would not. 

In describing my anxiety to him, I explained how social situations are often the trigger for my anxiety. Then he asked a question that I haven't been able to stop thinking about. "Do you think you have had some elements of social anxiety your whole life?" I had to think for a minute, but then suddenly it all made sense. The answer was "YES!" I was being so critical into my own life to diagnose myself with something like that. "It isn't bad enough to be social anxiety" I always convinced myself. But hearing him say it made it click. Even reading my old blog posts on this site, it's so clear I have social anxiety. It's not my fault that I've always had a hard time making friends! You have no idea how refreshing that reality is. 

I'm sure you are wondering how I'm doing on the Lexapro. Objectively in these 2 weeks so far, my anxiety has pretty much been the same. However, something about me started feeling better the moment I took that first pill. The reason is that I was finally doing something about my mental struggles! There is finally some kind of hope. I'm patient. I've been struggling with these feelings my whole life. I can wait a few more weeks for the medicine to start working. And I hope it really does. 

So there you have it. I am an HSP, but that's not the whole picture. I also have generalized anxiety disorder and social anxiety. While I hate the idea of having a "mental illness," the more I think about it the more I realize what a perfect fit it is for me to explain so many of my problems. Already, so much of the guilt is gone. And with a diagnosis comes a cure. There is hope. There is finally hope that I can be free from the dark place that is my mind. 

Sensitivity, Anxiety, and Depression

I had never felt so sick in my life. Suddenly, the nausea became so severe that I could feel my stomach and esophagus cramping in reverse peristalsis like they were trying to eject a toxic poison form my body as fast as possible. I ran to the bathroom, but could not bring myself to vomit. All of my limbs began to shake out of my control and I felt a tingling sensation everywhere from the skin on my face to my toes. I sat on the bathroom floor and cried. I had an overwhelming certainty that this was probably what it felt like to be dying. 

No one else was home and I didn't know what else to do, so I called a friend. I expressed my fear over what unknown phenomenon was happening in my body. Then in an emotional outburst, I expressed the frustrations I had experienced in school that day. 

Then like a switch,  I felt better. The nausea resolved, the trembling stopped. 

It felt like I had been sick for hours. I was surprised to look at the time and realize that only mere minutes had passed. 

Then it hit me. I had just had a panic attack. 

~~~~~~~~

I've always wondered if I have depression. By that I mean depression that can be clinically diagnosed as such. I can't objectively see the line between my feelings being due to being an HSP and actual clinical depression. 

Recently I have also begun to wonder if I have some type of anxiety disorder. Someone recently pointed out to me that I am constantly anxious, and that this aspect of my life was likely hindering my learning and education. 

I've taken countless online quizzes that attempt to determine if I have these disorders. They almost always say I do not. Maybe it's just because I know what the answers should be. No I have not "lost interest in things I used to enjoy." I've just never had hobbies. And no I do not "live in constant fear that something bad is going to happen." I just try very hard to keep everything in my control so it does not overwhelm me. 

Whether or not my symptoms meet DSM-V criteria for a psychological disorder, the reality is that these aspect of my life cause me enough grief and diminished quality of life, that I feel they are worth seeking out and addressing. But what then? I'm terrified of actually talking a doctor about this. Then other people may find out about it and see right through the happy-put-together person I have worked so hard to build in my life. Or the doctor will just think I'm a hypochondriac medical student. 

But the idea of getting help makes me so excited. I dream of talking to a Christian counselor and actually not feeling trapped in my head and my cycle of thoughts. I dream of taking a pill that can actually stabilize my mood, my anxiety, my emotions. 

On the other hand, I question if anything like that will ever actually work. Even worse, I question if I actually need it. I worry that I may manipulate a doctor into giving me something that is not what I need.  I worry that I'm just trying to use this "depression and anxiety thing" as an excuse for my laziness in taking care of myself emotionally and physically. Perhaps this is all my fault. 

I worry that my family and friends will start to see this as a bigger deal than it is, making it even worse for me. Maybe what I'm really afraid of is the label. 

But until I try it, I will always wonder whether taking and antidepressant could improve my quality of life. I wish there was more info out there about HSPs and their experience with taking antidepressants. I've googled the topic with very little success. 

Maybe one of these days, I'll just have to get over my fears and try. But you see, that is just the problem... 

What's the Point?

"What's the point? The world is a horrible place. Young people die of diseases. It makes absolutely no sense to try to be happy in a world that is such a horrible place."

"Yes."

"What?" 

"Yes, horrible things do happen. Happiness in the face of all that -- that's not the goal. Feeling the horrible and knowing that you're not gonna die from those feelings, that's the point." 

~Grey's Anatomy, Season 5 Episode 3 "Here Comes the Flood" 

Rejection Hurts

Rejection hurts everyone. It's part of being human: we long to be accepted. But I am thoroughly convinced that rejection hurts me deeper and longer as an HSP. I've written on my "emotional pain." Rejection plays a major role in this. 

In one of the lists I am ever so affectionate about, here are the reasons: 

1. As a highly sensitive person, I am more aware of rejection. I pick up on the subtlest comments people make that may indicate that they don't want me there. For example, I was supposed to spend the whole day with someone tomorrow. In a passing comment, they said "you have other plans for the afternoon, right?" Yes, this could be viewed in many ways. But given the context, my sensitivity immediately made me aware that this person was hoping that I would NOT be spending the afternoon with them. I could be wrong, but I trust my sensitivity. This person did not know that I had changed my plans to ensure that my day would be spent entirely with them. They obviously do not feel as strongly about spending the entire day with me. [For the record, this is not a guy I am interested in, and it's not even a male for that matter!] 

Anyway, this is just one example. I am constantly aware of people's lack of a smile in response to my "good morning." I can even tell when someone is faking a smile. When people don't express an interest in me enough to simply ask me how my day is going or how I'm doing that morning, to me that is a form of rejection. Call me too sensitive. But it's how I feel. And it is NOT a choice or a method of applying self pity. I would give anything not to feel this way. 

2. As an HSP, I have a much stronger response to this rejection. See my previous post on my insomnia and fear of lying in bed. I won't re-hash all the thoughts I expressed there, but rejection plays a major role in those feelings and issues. It's like the feelings people experience after a break up. But exponentially worse because it is in response to much smaller things. When someone doesn't smile back and you or doesn't want to spend an afternoon with you and you go home and feel hurt and cry like you just ended a serious long term romantic relationship, something is not right. It's just not normal. And again, NOT a choice. Sometime I just hurt, and I have to just allow my brain to over-analyze the day before I uncover the minor rejection that occurred hours ago but is subconsciously still haunting me. 

3. I have adapted a "quiet personality" due to my intense fear of facing this rejection. If I just don't talk, then no one will notice me and have a chance to reject me. If I don't engage in conversation, I markedly decrease my risk of being rejected. This is one of the reasons I have become known as "shy" in my life. I have subconsciously hidden behind my introversion to avoid rejection because I know how bad it can hurt me. Now, I just feel like people reject me because I'm so quiet in social settings. I hate to be so pessimistic, but this cycle just never ends for me, does it? 

Rejection hurts. Rejection hurts HSPs even more both because they are more aware of it and because they feel it so much stronger. To other HSPs out there who feel this: you are not alone. Comment below and share your experiences and examples. 

Please don't reject this post or I might cry. But seriously. 

Scared to Go to Bed

Tonight, I'm scared to get into bed. 

My bed is just a dark place. I reach a dark place way to often there. 

The recurrent thoughts have been haunting me. Even more, the fear of  them has. I've always had them, but I've recently become keenly aware of the severe distress they cause me. 

Why I'm scared to go to bed (in a nice list): 
1. As soon as I'm alone with my thoughts, my brain replays the entire day for me. Every thought, every action, every feeling, every decision. The over stimulation is severe and completely out of my control. 
2. These thoughts occur regardless of the nature of the stimulation. I had a good day today. And exciting day. Apparently a little too exciting for my highly sensitive spirit. But essentially, any day with any stimulation at all is to "exciting" for me. Combine that with a few negative feelings from the day, and you have World War III inside my poor mind. 
3. Over-stimulation --> recurring thoughts --> Depressive thoughts. Enough said. 
4. These thoughts occur particularly when I lay down to go to sleep. Sometimes it even wakes me up in the middle of the night or carries on into my dreams. As long as I'm up, I can potentially distract myself from allowing the thoughts to invade. It's like all day I try with all my strength to hold up the dam of my feelings from the stimulation. But I am so weak. As soon as I close my eyes and try to relax, the dam breaks and I become flooded. It's painful and scary and completely out of my control. And it's inevitable. 
5. These feelings are completely out of my control. I've kinda said this point already, but I repeat it because this is the part that bothers me the most. Why can't I control myself? Why can't I have some sort of say in how my heart responds to things? Why does every little thing bother me, despite how much I attempt to convince myself it's only a little thing? Too many questions, and not enough answers. 
6. I've never heard anyone else express this struggle. This leads me into a cycle of self pity and extreme shame. I've googled, read blogs, read books. I can't seem to find anyone else out there with this same problem. 

 I'm usually better by morning, but not always. It's always 100 times worse at night though.  

Things I've tried and their success rates (so you can't say I didn't try): 
1. Television. Really the thing I try to use the most, which is ironic because it's essentially always ineffective. Sometime even counter-productive because I begin to dwell on the fact that my life will never be as happy or perfect as that of the fictional characters. 
2. Music. Once the emotional effects and feelings wear off, the dam comes crashing in. 
3.  "Art therapy." I'm not an artist, but using the drawing app on my tablet or just coloring or sketching a bit is actually a little helpful in relieving the stimulation. The problem with this is it often takes too much effort out of my already worn body. And I actually have to have something I want to draw or at least try drawing for this to work. Same idea with writing, which I also enjoy. 
4. Meds. Your typical tyelnol, advil, benadryl, other sleep aids like melatonin. I also have a prescription for migraines/tension headaches that I take (always as prescribed). These help with what they were made to help with, which is not emotional pain, no matter how much I try to tell myself otherwise. 
5. Talking it out with someone. Actually makes it worse, no matter who the person is. All I end up with is another stimulating conversation to dwell on. 
6.  Praying. I thought this one was supposed to work? 

Things I know might help, but I can't bring myself far enough out of my deep pit to try: 
1. Reading the Bible or listening to sermons. 
2. Writing down positive or thankful thoughts. 
3. Exercise. Plus I truly hate exercise, you guys have no idea. 

The only thing that brings me some comfort is this remote idea: God has a plan in allowing me to experience this pain. It's part of some big picture that I can't see yet. 

And I just have to hold on to that for now. 

Off to bed I go. Wish me luck. 

I Only Wish I Could Trust

As the night grows darker
I fill it with vanity and lust
To hide from the deep pain 
Because I refuse to trust. 

The ache is just too strong!
I numbed, I cried, I cussed. 
I feel so weak and fragile 
But I still can't trust. 

I feel guilty it's all my fault! 
This pain is not unjust. 
I'm lost in another universe 
Where I just can't seem to trust.

I'm drowning, hopeless
My trophies collecting dust 
This could make me stronger. 
I only wish I could trust.