The bravest person I know

"It is very hard to be brave," said Piglet, sniffing slightly, "when you're only a Very Small Animal."

I tried another therapist to help me with my new found anxiety and frequent panic attacks. This was not an easy thing to do, especially after my first ill-fated attempt at therapy. Thankfully, my new person is very good, I think. I definitely felt very comfortable with her - and strangely enough, I know almost nothing about her, including the fact that I have no idea how many children she "gave birth to." She really listened. Seems a good quality in a therapist, but my first one was rather deficient in that area.

After going through everything and her asking me a lot of questions, she really believes she can help me and that there are some various techniques I can try. But she strongly believes I should take medication, as well, to help with these anxiety issues. My primary medical doctor wants me to take them, too - I already have the prescriptions from her. But I just don't want to.

Shouldn't I be able to get through this on my own? Shouldn't my faith be such that I don't need medication to help me through? Does this make me a bad Christian? Am I not casting all my anxiety on Him? Or does this mean I'm giving up? Does this mean I can't hack it in this crazy, beautiful, terrifying world?

I have never - ever - felt ANY of those things about any of my friends who needed this kind of help - Christian or otherwise. So why should I feel differently about it for myself?

I told her - and she thought this was "beautiful," (her words) - that I always joke that I'm the bravest person I know because I've always been afraid of so many things, but I always do them anyhow. I've never let (unreasonable) fear stop me from doing something, such as flying. Lately, with these panic attacks happening so often, I've been sorely tempted to let it all stop me... I haven't yet, but it really scares me how close I am to doing just that. How many more panic attacks can I handle before I just give up and stay home?

But I still do not want to take them.

I take other medications, for my PCOS. I took Clomid, I did IUI... I may eventually do IVF. I take prenatal vitamins. I drank raw herbs (aka sludge) from the acupuncture doctor, for Pete's sake... My work is all about the miracles of modern medicine, even... So why is this different to me?

She says it's not an issue of faith. It's not a personal failing. It's a brain chemistry issue. Thing is, I believe that. I do. I just wish it felt like it was a brain chemistry issue. To me, it does feel like just another failing. I can't get pregnant, I can't keep from gaining weight, and now I can't even handle life without flying into nutty panic attacks?? What next? I can't cook dinner anymore? I can't tie my shoes? (Wait, I always wear slip on shoes... sigh.)

So, she talked about how hormones influence brain chemistry, and how all the issues I've had over the last years, between infertility and PCOS - both of which are obviously very hormonal – plus, the major stress (cortisol hormone) of some very difficult financial issues we faced over the previous few years, have likely affected my brain's ability to make serotonin. While I would love to fix myself with faith, bravery, and trying to change my behavior, she says that the problem is that my brain chemistry is likely just off balance... I could take the meds to get that back in balance, and then it should help my brain produce its own serotonin again. In the meantime, we'll work on better coping strategies. She thinks I should only need the meds for maybe 6 months to a year. Not forever. I suppose, theoretically, this all means I can maybe be more back to normal, whatever that means for me...

Anyhow, it does makes sense. I get it. I just don’t like it. She said that for me (the bravest person I know), the brave thing to do now is take the medicine - get the help I need, even though it scares me and I don't want to do it. I think she's playing me now... using my own words against me. That's only a fair maneuver when I do it! But I do think she's probably right.

Ar and I talked it through last night, over some delicious Mexican dinner. Soooo. I guess I'll just start taking the meds tonight. I hope they help. I hope they don't make me crazier. I hope that I don't need them forever. I hope this doesn't make me more of a failure...

I hope, I do hope. Infertility, anxiety, and panic have not taken those away. They also haven't made Ar look at me any differently, he loves me all the same. I am certain that they also do not make God love me any less. For these I am so thankful.

“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”
(2 Corinthians 12:9)