It's easy to get angry. It's easy to get angry at yourself. It's easy to get angry at God. But does it help?
A little backstory:
I lived a fairly normal life growing up. I had friends that I played with. I was blessed with a family that took care of me and loved me.
One thing that my family noted in me growing up: I was VERY sensitive. My mom often bragged "I didn't even have to spank her. All I had to do was look at her wrong and she'd start crying."
Outwardly I laughed, but inwardly was this little thought that crept in: what's wrong with me?
Sometimes I was made fun of for being terrified of storms. I couldn't help myself. I would pace around the house like a scared little puppy, looking out the windows, afraid by the trees bending and the sound of the wind, but even more afraid if I couldn't see what was going on.
And as I got older, my fears only grew.
Several months after my parents separated, I started having episodes of intense fear. My mom and I would start to drive 45 minutes to visit her boyfriend and his daughter (who at the time I'd become best friends with). I'd be so excited to go, always looking forward to it.
However after a few months of doing this, every time about 15 minutes into our drive, the fear crept in.
Was there anything outwardly causing this fear? None that I could think of. As I said, I was excited to go see my friend and her dad. I loved them.
Was I afraid of the drive? I usually got to listen to my music on the way, which I was big into. The only thing I could think of was the tractor trailers, but these episodes did not start when we were on the highway, or around tractor trailers.
We would be 15 mins in and I would feel my body start to "vibrate". After that, my hands all the way down to my toes started to tingle. Then they would go completely numb. My palms would start sweating, then finally I would feel like I couldn't catch my breath and my heart would be racing.
I'd take my rescue inhaler to no avail. And after several times of this incident, I went to therapy.
We went through questions from "what type of music do you listen to?" To "how is your home life" and all the in-betweens. Eventually a diagnosis was brought forth. "Generalized Anxiety Disorder", better known as "G.A.D."
I was embarrassed at the fact that I had to be afraid of everything. And I was angry about it. I remember wondering if my friends thought I was crazy because I had to go to therapy. At that point, I felt crazy.
For a while I worked on myself by listening to calmer music, really taking up drawing to distract my brain from anxious thoughts and by watching funny and uplifting movies.
After a while my episodes seemed to stop, and along with it, so did therapy.
But that wasn't the end of it.
When I got with my now ex, I started experiencing attacks again. Now better known as "anxiety attacks". I had a hard time talking myself down from them, which often led me to the hospital so they could make sure I was okay.
Not only that, but I started really noticing something else creeping back into my life. Something that I thought was just a phase. Depression. Suicidal Ideation.
I was told that I was the reason my mother was so depressed and wanted to kill herself. I knew she was depressed, but I never knew the other. I was crushed by that. And I feared that it was true.
After hearing about that, my mom happened to start seeing a different guy and she would leave without telling me (by this time I was out of high school).
I worried that I was the reason she'd left, and that she was going to act on the secrets that were whispered to me in the depths of my darkest nights.
Again that thought crept in: what is wrong with me?
I hated myself. Absolutely hated myself. And I was angry. I was angry at my brain. I was angry at people. I was angry that God gave me a broken brain.
In the midst of my anger, I still tried to be the best version of myself. I finally told my doctor (who'd known me and my immediate family since I was born) that I wanted to be on depression medicine.
I was ashamed. This is the lowest of the low I thought to myself. Now he's going to tell your mom and your mom is going to feel like a disappointment and like she's let you down and she's going to kill herself. And it's all your fault. You can't tell anyone about this.
I was so angry at myself that I would just wish I didn't exist. Why am I broken?
Eventually I did tell my mom about getting on depression medication. And she was supportive.
The next couple of months is for another time to tell, but I will say this:
I have learned that there is no point in harboring anger. It's not good for your health (mental or physical), and it won't change your situation.
I'd also learned that God has every right to be angry with us after the constant things that we put Him through, and yet He still chose a brutal death to spare our lives.
I am not trying to say "never get angry" because we are human, and we have emotions. But what I am trying to say is, is it really worth your time and energy to be angry about something that you can't change?
Life is short. Make your time here count. Your life matters. God didn't make a mistake in creating you. He put a purpose in Your heart. And if you are reading this, He has a purpose for you, too.
Take the challenge.
