There’s a lot of advice buzzing around the internet about how to navigate this covid 19 crisis. As a writer, I’ve been encouraged that this is my time, the perfect opportunity to pour forth to the world all of my hard-earned wisdom. To that, I say:
Listen, friends… you already know what to do. You were born for this, although you might just now be realizing that.
The question is, will you accept the challenge? Because, like I always say, you have a choice.
But you already know that, too. Soooo… what should we talk about?
As much as I really. don’t. want. to write about this present crisis, (because who needs to read one more list or opinion?) NOT talking about it feels like avoiding the elephant in the room. Since we can’t avoid the elephant, let’s just feed him a handful of peanuts and hopefully keep him distracted for a few minutes, while I share a few random things I’ve been thinking about.
Here they are, do with them what you will, and don’t forget to wash your hands afterwards.
A friend texted me in tears this morning. Unable to overcome the waves of anxiety and depression, she’d stepped out of the office and was hiding in the hallway, trying desperately to stop crying. “Nothing helps besides sleep,” she wrote. “I just want to go home and sleep.”
My heart broke for her. I remember hiding in the restroom at work, trying to control my own flow of tears. It felt like 5:00 would never come and all I wanted to do was to cry myself to sleep. Wake me when it’s over; like a turtle, I wanted to hibernate.
Imagine being able to simply shut down and snooze for a long period every year –doesn’t that sound heavenly? Preferably right after the last leaves fall until, oh, I don’t know… April 16th? Works for me.
Yea, if I’m honest, my weight isa cause for anxiety but we’re gonna’ save that post for when I’m feeling a little more courageous. Today I want to talk about the weight of anxiety, that sense of heaviness that makes you respond to life as if you’re carrying around an extra fifty pounds. I wish there was a scale to register that kind of weight.
My issues with anxiety began when I was a young mother, but here’s the thing—nobody talked about anxiety back then other than to say things like, “My nerves are shot.”
That weird, gnawing feeling I had in my gut every single morning when I woke up? I had no idea it was anxiety. It never occurred to me to mention it to my doctor, so I basically just got used to feeling bad.
As a young Christian that just felt wrong. It’s not normal for Christians to feel this bad, right? I felt bad. Therefore I must be bad. That made my stomach feel even worse.