Elisabeth Warner

When we finally went to West Virginia, I had a great time.  Every fear I had – being out in the heat, being away from my home state, and stepping out of my comfort zone – dissipated over time.  Our team helped a woman who had just become a widow.  Her husband had died a few months before from a heart attack, and she had felt very lonely.  She lived in a cluttered house with her two dogs and two cats.  At first, I wondered what we were doing.  We spent all this money, time, and preparation…to help a woman clean her house?

Within a few days, I realized how appreciative she was of us coming to help her.  I was assigned to paint her room, and she wanted to help.  Since this was my first time doing this, I didn’t know if she was allowed, but I told her that she could help me anyway.  She talked my ear off about her life.  As I listened, I could hear her desperation simply for a listening ear.  She needed hope; she needed someone to make her feel like she was important.  When I listened to her concerns, her needs, and her requests, I told my team members about them.  On the first day I met her, she said that she was raising money for a vacuum.  My team members and I put our money together and bought her the exact vacuum that she wanted.  She was able to use the money that she was raising for something else.  The point of my trip, it seemed, wasn’t simply to do house work for this woman.  It was to show her that she was worthy of us coming all the way down to visit her.  Despite her lack of hope, we were willing to show her that through God, she has a hope and a future.

At the end of my trip, my pastor spoke to us about purpose.  He asked us to consider our individual purpose.  As I closed my eyes, I thought I had known.  I was going to be a writer, simply to use my voice and show the world how well I could write.  But God had bigger plans.  He basically showed me how important it was that I gave hope to this woman in West Virginia.  He was telling me to do that with my life, to give hope to those who have no hope.  Since God had given me hope, I had the ability to share it with other people.

In that moment, God confirmed that I had a hope and a future.  My life is not a dead-end road.  I had no reason to be anxious anymore.  I was not a failure.  God did not destine me to fail.  Since God saved me, my life now had a purpose.

When I was about to turn 16, my youth group organized a trip to West Virginia to help people who were in need.  When I signed up to go, so many thoughts raced through my head.  As much as I loved my youth group, I would be away from my family, in another state, for a whole week, in the blazing heat.  I also had to train for a weekend in Pennsylvania in order to prepare for the trip, where we would have to climb rock walls and do team-building exercises.  Although I already signed up for the trip, I thought about giving up and telling them that I could not make it.  However, I felt deeply that God wanted me to go, so I made the decision to go no matter what the cost.

One by one, God took away my fears.  On the training weekend, we had a great time.  I knew almost everyone on my team, and they helped me to get over my fears.  Through the exercises we did together, I learned that God was calling me to let go.  I learned it from climbing the rock wall.  I was afraid of heights, and I was only planning on going up halfway. People around me were calling me, encouraging me to keep going.  I would not look down, but I listened to what my teammates said below me.  Finally, I reached the top.  I heard applause, even from members from other teams.  Unlike what I feared, no one made fun of me for being such a wimp. Instead, all I heard was encouragement.  I looked around at what I had accomplished, knowing that I could not do it without the support of my friends and the strength of God.

The staff person who was holding me called up to me: “Good job.  Now I need you to let go of the wall so that you can come down.”  I thought about her request as I stared down at the bottom.  What if she lets me fall?  My team members cheered me on again.  I held on to the rope, closed my eyes, and pushed my legs off of the wall.

For a few seconds, I suspended in the air.  The feeling of not having to be in control, to let my life in someone else’s hands, gave me a sense of peace.  For the first time, I did not have to be responsible for anyone, not even my own life.  For the first time, God gave me a picture of what it means to trust him.  It feels scary at first, but when I finally let go, my life is in the hands of God.  When I leave my burdens in God’s hands, I am free to live without fear or anxiety.  And this was only the beginning.

The journey to peace was a process that took patience, time, and learning.  Right before I had entered eighth grade, I found a book about trusting God.  I had never heard of such a crazy idea.  You can trust God, just like you can trust a friend or a family member?  Well, I began to discover that I can trust God more than I can trust a friend or family member.

I would say that the most chaotic time of my life was between the ages of twelve and sixteen, right after I made the decision to follow God.  Within that time, I did not have a moment of consistency.  My parents had gotten divorced when I was about eight years old, and my mom’s new husband and I did not get along.  He and his children always made me feel like I was not good enough, and that I could never do anything right.  At the same time, my dad was dating another woman who brought me to church.  My mom did not want me going to church, but she begrudgingly dropped me off every Sunday.

A few months after I went to youth group for the first time, my grandmother died.  This emotionally destroyed my family members, especially my grandfather and my mom.  Then, when the school year started again, I broke my elbow and had to get surgery.  I missed school for a few months.  A few years later, my aunt decided that she wanted to move to Florida.  My grandfather agreed, and while my mother was getting surgery, they got up and left.

Although this time of my life was the most chaotic, I noticed that God did not change.  While my step family was yelling at me and telling me that I do everything wrong, God was telling me how much he loved me, even with my imperfections.  When my grandmother died and my family split up as a result, God told me that he is my heavenly father, and he would never leave me.  When my mom would not let me go to church, God told that he would protect me and keep me safe.  While I moved from house to house – between my dad, my mom, and my dad’s girlfriend – God told me to trust him.

Over the years, no matter how difficult my circumstances, God had always shown me his love, protection, and mercy.  His love for me did not change, even when I could not see the love of those around me.  His protection over me did not change, even when I could not see the light at the end of the tunnel.  His mercy for me did not change, even when I sinned against him.

In the midst of all these experiences, God had truly allowed me to trust him.  It would have been easy to trust him if everything was great, but when life was difficult and confusing, that is when God began to grow my faith.

I didn’t come from a household that believed in God.  As a matter of fact, my family was against the church.  I perceived that God wanted me to be perfect, but knew that I could not be, so he picked on me.  Everything was about rules and obedience. I had a responsibility: to take care of my sister and to be perfect.  But I knew that I could not, so I failed myself, my family, and God every day.

As I’ve mentioned before, I had a step family that was always in and out of the house.  In essence, our families did not ever come together as one. It seemed to be my sister, my mom, and I against my stepfather and his two kids.  I secretly wanted an escape, but did not know how to get one.

When my parents got divorced, my dad started dating a Christian.  She had a daughter my age who quickly became one of my best friends.  They were always asking me to go to church.  I went sometimes to make my friend happy.  I didn’t really see anything special about going.  We went to events where kids played games and listened to stories (stories that I don’t really remember).

My mom was very much against me going to church.  I could easily get out of things by calling my mom.  If I didn’t want to go to church, I would call my mom, and she would call my dad and say that she was picking me up.  I didn’t have to do anything that made me uncomfortable.

One day, we were at Wendy’s.  As I stuffed my Frosty into my mouth, my dad asked, “Do you want to see your friend today?” I always saw my friend on Fridays…why would that day be any different?  I nodded.  “Well, she’s going to youth group. So you’re going with her.”  Youth group is like church but for teenagers.  So many thoughts raced through my head: I was going to be judged; people were going to know my past; I can not go to church.

Under the table, I sent a text message to my mom: “Dad is taking me to church. Help!”  She replied, “That sounds great, honey. Have a good time.”  Really?  The woman who didn’t want me going to church is actually letting me go?

I went there, and I actually had a good time.  We played games in teams, and I made a few friends.  Nobody asked me about my past or my insecurities.  People did not judge me like I thought, but gave me a reason to want to go back.  At the end of the night, we made bracelets and listened to the pastor talk.  I heard for the first time that God was not angry at me, but that he wanted to be my friend.  He did not expect me to be perfect; he just wanted me to love him.  On that night, I made a decision to trust God.  This decision resulted in a journey that brought me to peace.

Over these past few days, I have been discussing about how I have overcome anxiety.  Between working retail and taking a TEFL certification class, it is has been difficult to remain consistent these days.  I feel like I am supposed to share more of my personal story of how I overcame anxiety.  I will be splitting my story into segments so that it is easier for me to write and for others to read.  Enjoy!

I hear so many people claiming that they have the cure for anxiety.  Doctors prescribe anti-anxiety medication to even those who do not have a diagnosed anxiety.  Nutritionists boast that they have found a super food that is all natural and can cure any disease.  Pastors preach sermons that have the same Bible verses about how to have peace, claiming that anxiety comes from a lack of faith and from sin.

I tried praying harder.  I tried counseling.  I tried all of the techniques that people told me would help.  But I still woke up with a racing heart and troubled mind.  I became discouraged.  It looked like everyone else could live in peace but me.  There was no hope for me.

Everyone else seemed to have a handle on their lives. I was the only one struggling to survive.  Normal people could go to work without having a stomachache.  Other people could take a test without having trouble breathing.  But I was the weird one.  I was the one who overreacted, who didn’t understand, and who wasn’t understood.  While I spent time with friends, I could not concentrate on the moment.  I tried convincing myself that I wasn’t going to mess up, that I wasn’t going to give anyone proof that I was a failure.  If I made one wrong move, everyone would know that I wasn’t perfect…and that wasn’t okay.

I have been talking about how to overcome anxiety. Since I was little, anxiety seemed to have overcome me.  Anxiety was a rock, and I was being crushed underneath it.  All my life, I heard the negative voices around me telling me that I would never amount to anything.  It is interesting that I won awards as a child for being good at reading and writing, and that two of my teachers wanted me to skip to the next grade, but I could only remember the people who trampled on my dreams.  No matter what achievements I made, I could not hear someone cheering me on, telling me to keep going.

I used anxiety to feel in control.  However, anxiety became a reminder that, at the end of the day, I was still a failure and I was never going to have a happy ending.  Anxiety was a result of my dead end life.  I had no hope for my future, but I had no way out of the life I was living.  It’s like I was stuck.  I was not going to get anywhere, but I still felt the urge to try.

Panic attacks are sudden, and they feel overwhelming.  They seem so real and so dramatic.  As I mentioned in the previous post, whenever I have a panic attack, I feel the urgent need to fix the situation instantly.  It feels like my world will fall apart if I do not have instant relief from my anxiety.  I noticed that there would be certain situations, like going to work or taking a test, where I would always have a stomachache or a sudden shortening in my breath.  In those moments, I felt like I did not have control, and I did anything to get rid of the insecurity.

One time, I went to a counseling session.  The counselor gave me some practical techniques to help me when I am feeling anxious.  In addition to deep breathing and exercise, normalizing anxiety makes it appear less threatening.  She told me to talk myself down, giving me advice about what to say:  “You have a panic attack every time you go to work.  You have never died from it before, and you will not die from it today.  No one has ever died from a panic attack.”  I had never realized that panic attacks don’t kill, even though they appear to try to steal my life.

The next time I was leaving for work, my same stomachache kicked in, right on cue.  I put my hands on my stomach and told myself out loud, “You are only having a panic attack.  There is nothing wrong with your stomach.  You have a panic attack every day before you go to work.  You are going to have a good day at work, and nothing bad is going to happen to you.”  Instantly the panic attack stopped.  I took the time to calm down and normalize my anxiety, and the anxiety stopped.

Normalizing anxiety does not mean accepting defeat.  You do not have to walk under the shadow of anxiety.  This exercise simply involves telling yourself that anxiety has stricken before, and it has never hurt you.  Normalizing anxiety is taking away the power that anxiety has over you.  By telling yourself that anxiety is normal, not scary, your anxiety will become less threatening.

I’ve been told that emotions are just energy.  I have found this to be true.  I have always had more energy than the average human being.  Even without regularly drinking coffee, I rarely have been able to take naps, except when I had been deprived of sleep for long periods of time.  I usually have been hyper and excited most of the time.  I recently noticed that it doesn’t take much to make me happy.  I burst with excitement over the smallest of compliments, pieces of joyful news, and inspirational quotations.

Many times, I’ll become joyful, and those around me will tell me to calm down.  Among some people, I have learned how to hide my joy because they don’t approve or they don’t understand.  As a result, I have energy within me that is waiting to be exerted.  If I choose not to let it manifest in joy, the energy will automatically manifest in anxiety.  There is no other way that I had allowed myself to release the energy.  So I’d wake up in the middle of the night, with energy welling up inside of me, and I wouldn’t know what to do.

In learning to overcome anxiety, I have discovered how to control the energy within me. I avoid high fructose corn syrup and other types of sugar (as well as caffeine) so my body does not create unnecessary energy.  If I ingest too much sugar or caffeine and then start to feel anxious, I will tell myself that my anxiety is not caused by a legitimate fear but by an excess of sugar.  Instead of freaking out, I go for a walk or a bike ride every day before I start my routine.  My favorite way to exert energy is to dance. I remember a time where I could feel a panic attack starting.  I just stood up and started dancing.  I jumped up and down, not caring who saw me.  After a few minutes, I began to feel tired.  I danced some more, past my fatigue, and then I stopped.  I was so tired that I fell to the floor.  Whatever troubling thoughts I had didn’t matter anymore.  I was too tired to care.  But because I exercised, my body created endorphins, so I felt peaceful and happy.

If you struggle with anxiety, try to become aware of the energy you ingest.  Record the food you eat, and see if a diet change makes a difference.  Women’s bodies could create more energy during different times of the month, so being aware of that is helpful as well.  Eating food with hormones could also cause a chemical imbalance that could produce anxiety.  When you exert energy, you could go for a walk.  If you’re in panic mode, you could even go for a run.  You don’t have to be on the defensive side of a panic attack.  If you feel a panic attack coming, fight it before it gets the chance to overtake you.