Fight or Flight

I hate flying. The plane lifts off the runway, and I clench the armrests of my seat (probably the middle seat in between two strangers – just my luck). I don’t relax again until the plane stops at the end of that faraway runway. 

Ironically, ever since I can remember, I’ve had an unaddressed dream to be a pilot; to feel the power of the plane as it catches currents in the clouds and to have power over the plane itself. I could handle piloting over passenger-ing because I would be in control. 

I go through seasons where I feel healthy and happy. I stay out late with friends, my sense of humor is at its best (or worst, who’s judging?), and I handle stressors that have the potential to trigger a panic attack with ease and little concern. What it comes down to is that, in these seasons, I feel in control; although anxiety is still real and lurks in the corners of my mind, I do better at living, and even thriving, in the present. I almost forget what it’s like to have a panic attack, and I question why I ever had them. I trick myself into thinking that I have improved so much that I won’t again struggle as badly as I have in the past.

And then, this idealism comes crashing down around my ears, but I barely notice amid an all-consuming panic attack. All at once, I am acutely aware of what I feel in every inch of my body – the tingling in my fingers, the racing of my heart, the numbness in my legs, the pain in my head and chest – but I lose awareness of what’s happening around me. My vision is blurry. I can’t breathe. I try to take a deep breath, and I choke on air. I must be dying. I have to get out. I begin to shake uncontrollably. 

Uncontrol. I focus a lot on the power of the mind and on disciplining the mind to redirect thoughts and think truth in order to find some victory over anxiety and depression (I guess that’s the point of this blog – I mean, check out its name). 

However, this may appear to belittle some symptoms of anxiety and depression that cannot be controlled. I do have power over what I’m thinking when my mind takes the negative train (I’m sorry, but I’m really tempted to say “negative plane” for the sake of consistent examples), but, when I’m stuck in a panic attack, thinking positively – or thinking at all, for that matter – is impossible.

I think it’s important to remember that, even in the good seasons, I am not in control. In the bleak seasons, I can still hold onto what is true and the hope that things will get better again. With each episode and attack, I am learning more about myself while learning to seek the Lord, choose joy, and preach truth to myself.

Even in turbulence that clenches my stomach and shakes me to the core, I trust that the pilot is in control. The Lord has held, protected, and guided me this far, and He will continue to until the end of the runway.