There’s a lump deep down in the pit of my stomach waiting to be free, reminding me there’s a calling to do something specific. I have had it in my heart to be a writer since before I was ten… And the chaos of my world continues to buzz around me, with little pulls in different directions, but the word “write” is the only post-it note on the walls of my mind by the end of every other task and project.

I imagine this brightly neon colored post-it note with WRITE written in bold sharpie… But the color has faded, dust has gathered, and alone it remains. I reach for it every so often, pick it up, and think, “today I know what my novel is about!” I grab a pen and jot some notes, maybe even open my laptop and begin to type. But not long after something else calls on me and the post-it note returns to it’s overextended stay on the walls of the back of my mind.

My brain is quite complicated. It seems as though every thought or idea that settles in my heart to be written evolves over time and never quite stops and waits for completion. Instead, I find myself ready to start all over again every time I come back to this poor faded post-it note.

But the story never stops evovling because I’m still evolving. The story of my soul… The daily struggles of me… And I title it, “Afraid of Falling.”

Fear… It’s not just something that creeps in the dark or a paranoia of something in particular. For me it is a 24-7 cross to carry. A life in which it feels as though I’m tightrope walking on a time limit and every step could be my last, but the world around me is telling me there’s something wrong with being afraid to fall. The complications in my head have long ruled the ground I tread, and all the while the human beings around me seem normal, I feel out of this world.

Anxiety, depression, post-traumatic stress… These are the silent, deadly diseases I’ve been all too familiar with. I used to try to control it alone. I hid from the world. I beat myself up, cut myself, got drunk, pried at people I thought I had the right to expect to be there for me until they had to leave me behind to salvage themselves…

Here is the issue with the world of these quiet mental disorders. If you’ve never experienced it yourself, you will think we are crazy or lazy… but you’ll not really be sure and when you ask, we tend to just say, “I’m just tired.” Yet the truth is we’re not just tired, we’re overwhelmed, exhausted, and teeter on the edge of giving up. We are at war, not just with life, but with ourselves. No one knows your deepest fears like you do. No one knows how to trip you, deceive you, or kill you… Better than you. So, when your at war with yourself the battles are dirty, messy, and constant.

Why am I tired? I go back to the wall where my faded post-it note sticks and I realize its not alone… The wall is overflowing with post-it notes and I can’t even find the off switch.

I spend every waking moment with thoughts, memories, words, and fantasies cycling through my mind. While the average human being only needs 5-15 mins to fall asleep, I’m still tossing and turning 2 hours later over the world’s most unnecessary questions, replays, and worries. I pray for miraculous healing, but my second biggest enemy, myself, wont accept it. Roadblocks and obstacles created by my subconscious mind produce self-sabotage, and the fear settles in like it’s home.

I worry about who I am and what I’m doing. Will I forget something? Will I let someone down? Am I allowed to decline on account of “I just need alone time” or is that selfish and rude? What if I’m wrong? What if God is screaming one thing but I’m not listening? Why do I feel lonely and depressed when things look and feel great? What kind of person is thankful and excited to do what I do and still be anxious and struggle with depression? Does this mean my faith isn’t standing on solid ground? I need to remember to… I need to make sure I…. What will happen if I fail? Will I be forgotten? Will I even matter? Do I matter? Does it matter if I matter? Am I not humble because I want to matter? Does it make me evil to want to be loved and remembered and appreciated? Am I allowed to think I’m talented?

What would happen if I couldn’t handle this life of ministry? How do I know this isn’t all just convenience? Am I allowed to not agree with my fellow leaders in their spiritual discernment and beliefs? If I don’t agree am I evil or wrong or misled or are they? I could have said this better… I should have done this instead… Why am I still thinking? I need to sleep. What if I can’t sleep? What if I accidentally sleep through my alarm? Maybe I shouldn’t sleep at this point. No I need some sleep. Oh I can’t forget to…

I turn on worship music… I play meditation music… Maybe these audio hypnosis things will put me to sleep… Oh I’ll try reading… I can’t find stillness. Does that mean I’m not a good enough disciple of Christ?

All of the above is just a fragment of what it’s like to live with myself and I’m ready to burst. But more wasted thoughts keep flooding in like a boat with a hundred holes and a never ending supply of water. Eventually it feels like I’m drowning… I can’t breathe.

But there was a day I took this giant leap, hoping for change and the light of a better day. And in the middle of said leap I remembered that I’m alone, and began to free fall out of my mind. In all my fragility I crashed to the ground and shattered. Who I once was scattered, broken, and hopeless…

That pain was the greatest thing that ever happened to me.

In the midst of all this chaos He stood there before me with tender eyes and a hand outstretched calling for me. Me? He wants me? This messy, mistake-majoring, anxiety attack in a clay shell human being… He wants me.

I’m still shocked. But even in the midst of my overwhelming mind, that one thought holds me up and makes me want to fight for life. Where I once wanted to throw my hands in the air and give up on trying to thrive, instead I handed that desire to Him. He took my feelings of dispair and turned them into HOPE.

My brain is still a cluttered mess… It still never shuts up. But I’m no longer alone in the dark, flooded confines of my mind. The moment I started to be honest with myself I realized I had to share the truth of who I am in order to take on the journey of healing. Who you see today is not who I was. I rarely have panic attacks. I don’t cut. I don’t use substances to hide. And while my brain is still actively trying to keep myself at war, He stands beside me and helps me cope.

Thank you, Father, for loving this anxious, mental disorder carrying, impatient, over thinker. Because with out You, I wouldn’t have allowed myself to be alive today… Today I am falling and I’m not afraid… Because I’m falling in love with You, Jesus.

For the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men. For consider your calling, brothers: not many of you were wise according to worldly standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth. But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of God. And because of him you are in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God, righteousness and sanctification and redemption, so that, as it is written, “Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord.”

1 Corinthians 1:25‭-‬31 ESV

Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you, casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you. Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. Resist him, firm in your faith, knowing that the same kinds of suffering are being experienced by your brotherhood throughout the world. And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you.

1 Peter 5:6‭-‬10 ESV