Inside an anxious heart

I have experienced much change since writing my last post over two weeks ago. Yet, some of my more annoying aspects continue.

I suffer from anxiety, which can be a challenge not only for me, but for those around me as it can manifest in various ways. In public, it often means I start to shut down.

Though I rationally know it is probably not true, in the moment I feel as if everyone is looking at me and judging me. I am holding the line up. I don’t know what to do next. People are barking instructions at me, but I don’t understand. I begin to freeze up. I just want to crawl away and hide. Better yet, disappear. Forever.

Flee. That is my instinct. This is not always an option, though. I usually have to push through. I often try to avoid certain scenarios that I know feed my anxiety. I don’t arrive at the grocery store after 8 AM, for instance, as it is too crowded. People. Always in a hurry. And I am always in the way. Always.

Driving is another challenge. There was a time when I only drove my one route back and forth to work, and I avoided driving elsewhere as much as I could. I would let someone else drive. That was easier. Give in to the fear. I became dependent, though. I could only go somewhere out of the ordinary if I had someone to drive me. With the encouragement of my Bible Study Partner (BSP), I have started driving myself on different routes and to different places. It may sound silly, but these are actually accomplishments to someone that had essentially drove only on a few established routes for years and had no confidence to drive anywhere else.

One Way sign, pointing to Heaven
Credit: JC

I can still get worked up while driving, though. Again with the people. Always rushing. Always in a hurry. I dread right turns at stoplights, for instance, because if the light is red, I am very cautious before proceeding. But, if someone honks his horn at me in impatience, my mind goes blank. Everything goes white. I can’t see. I sometimes go ahead and pull into oncoming traffic such that the person behind me can be on his way. I wonder if he would care if he watched me get creamed and splattered across the intersection in front of him? I suspect not. He would probably drive on past, happy to be on his way to whatever important destination awaits him. He has to get that morning coffee, after all.

Anxiety often hits me at work. The nature of my job is such that I have to talk to and interact with people every day.

Some days are better than others. On bad days, my heart will start pounding: Thud. Thud. Thud.

“The candidate is here for you to interview.”

Thud. Thud. Thud.

She is over 15 minutes early. I am not ready. I try to explain this to the recruiter. But my words are inadequate. I can’t think.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

I try to take a few minutes. I need time to think. To prepare. Before I can even take a breath, though.

“Here is the candidate!”

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

I can’t breathe. I’m not ready. I should have made this more clear, but it is too late. I can’t think. I don’t know what to do.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

Instead, I lash out. I am rude to the recruiter.

Now, I am not only suffering from anxiety, but I am being a jerk. This is not who I want to be. I am a child of God.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

Interview has to start. The rest of the interview panel is looking at me.

The knowing stares. The thoughts I think I see in their eyes.

He is losing it again.

What is wrong with him?

He can’t handle his position.

The one person who understands me steps in, covers for me. Things begin, despite me.

I breathe and try to calm down.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

I reach into my pocket and pull out a prayer stone that my BSP gave me for dealing with such situations. I hold it throughout the interview. I repeat over and over in my head, “Be still, and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10).

Thud. Thud. Thud.

By the time it is my turn to question the candidate, I am at least functioning.

I still feel the eyes, though. The worried looks.

I make it through the experience, but at what cost?

After the interview, I retreat to my office and close the door. I need time alone or, ideally, with my BSP. I remain off-kilter and need to re-center. Read scripture. Pray.

Nope. No time for any of that. Within a minute, there is a knock at my door.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

It is the recruiter. This would be a great time to apologize. Or I should just ask her to come back later.

That’s not what I do, though. Instead, I lash out even more. If it seemed like I might have been a jerk before, this solidifies it.

The recruiter leaves, and I finally get a chance to be alone with God. Why did I let all of this happen? What is wrong with me?

I wish this post had answers. It does not. All I can say is that I remain a work in progress. Incidentally, I did later apologize to the recruiter, and I asked forgiveness from both her and God.

My BSP helps me tremendously with my anxiety, finding ways to comfort and calm me. Suggesting things to try in the moment. Always trying to help. I am sad to report that I even occasionally lash out at this caring individual. Yes, I am that much of a jerk.

All I can say is that I am trying. Some suggest taking life a day at a time, but sometimes, I have to take it more like a moment at a time. Just get through this moment, and then the next. Then the next.

Thank you for reading. May God bless you.

One thought on “Inside an anxious heart

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