A Day In The Life Of This Christian Living With Anxiety/Depression

When I wake up it feels like my eyes are literally in the back of my head.
My face tingles.
My breath is shallow.
My limbs are a bit numb.
My heart feels like it is beating at half the pace it normally does.
Kisses from my kids do nothing to move me.
I lay there looking at the ceiling wanting to pull the covers back over my head.
But I can’t.
Because I have to pay the electric bill by Friday or they will shut it off.
The electric company doesn’t care about my anxiety/depression.
I roll over and give myself a pep talk.
“Get up Carlos. Just get up”
When I stand I’m a bit dizzy.
I know by the kind of “dizzy” I feel that it will stay with me the remainder of the day.
Maybe two.
I fake a smile to make sure the kids don’t worry about dad all day.
I think to myself, “Read the Bible. It will knock you out of your funk” but the condo is tiny and the kids are crazy.
After getting ready and the wife and kids are busy homeschooling I sit on the sofa looking at the door.
“Get up and walk out. Get in the car. Turn the key. Drive to work”
I walk out and the sun is blinding.
I drive to my meetings.
I hear about 25% of what is being said to me.
I finally get a break to read my Bible and get in the word.
I still feel like crap.
I pray to feel better.
I say Amen.
I still feel like crap.
Slow heart.
Open laptop.
Type a blog post.
My fingers are shaking the entire time.
They won’t stop, so I do.
Drive home.
Walk in the door and the wife says…”I can see it in your eyes. Is there anything I can do?”
I don’t even have the energy to figure that out.
I zone through dinner, bedtime, and put my head on the pillow.
I feel the same as when I woke up.
This sucks God.
And in that moment He whispers…
“I know. I’m sorry. I love you”
Just then the wife slides her leg over and gently puts her ankle over mine.
As if to say the same thing…
“I know. I’m sorry. I love you”
And for a person struggling with anxiety and depression…
That small touch from The Father or the spouse or a friend or a child…
Is enough to hope the next morning will bring a smile and not a sigh.

This is what last Thursday and Friday felt like for me.  I have them a few days a month.
This is what a day feels like for the 20% of adult Americans struggling with anxiety and depression.
And for some of them…that’s a good day.

In our numbness He feels for us.
In our sadness He will be our smile.
One step at a time friends.
And if this not you, be the feeling and smile for the one in your life who struggles.

It’s better that way…