I keep hearing more and more people, people close to me and those that aren't but I have met that have anxiety, phobias, fear and panic. All sorts of them, some small some large. As complex as agoraphobia to fear of heights and spiders.
All are related. Have you ever tipped over a canoe, boat or anything in the water and were surprised and shocked and you quickly sunk under the water even to the bottom? Pure panic had set in, out of surprise mainly, but you gulped water, sucking for air you flailed to reach the surface, and it seems you sunk so fast that the surface and freedom took forever to get to the top?
That's how I can kind of explain the path I've been on. I was thrust into a sudden full blown panic that felt as though I'd never resurface. Flailing without hope, drowning on the bottom. Then as of March 12th this year it seemed as though someone threw a life preserver to the bottom, it had weights on it, but you could tell the line was fastened to the surface tightly all I had to do was pull on it to rise up.
That's what it feels like now, but it still seems like it's a long way to the light and fresh air above. The descent was immediate and pure fright, drowning in horrible thoughts and unknown feelings. The world was growing and growing before my eyes, everytime I would step outside during day time the world before my eyes seemed to be opening to an uncontrollable size and I felt as though without something to hide behind or under I'd be crushed by the world.
But now that rope has been thrown to me, a life preserver, and as quickly as I did plunge to the depths, it does seem to take forever to get back to the surface. I'd been there before, thrashing my way to the surface only to have that rope cut and I'd sink into the depths again, each time I'd lose more hope and the hunger to live a full life again.
But, they say, and I can attest to, once you really reach the bottom and just can't handle it any longer, there is no where else to go but up, I had reached that this past winter and it was time to end this suffering. No not suicide, even though in my darkest days, that was a constant thought, and it wasn't without options to do so, I just didn't want to end it, I knew somehow I would live my life again, no matter the pain it took to get back. No matter what there is always hope.
The rise is beginning, and those of you that have fallen in the water and sunk, it seems that light at the surface takes a lot longer to get back to than the plunge. The pressure of the depths was slowly getting lighter, everyday the pressure gets easier to deal with, the light is getting closer, and the speed of the rise is rapidly increasing.
Never give up hope, there is help, starting with yourself.
Thanks,
Lance
