Anxiety When Things are Good

Photo by Masha Raymers from Pexels

I haven’t written in so long - not here, anyway. I think I’ve been scared. I keep thinking I’m going to say the wrong thing or even worse - that what I say will have no value to anyone.

I find myself more crippled by anxiety as the days go on. I get older and accomplish more things, and it feels like I’m building my own glass staircase. I don’t even know where I’m climbing anymore, but I just have to keep going. The higher I go, the smaller the steps. The staircase narrows as it creeps into the clouds. I wobble as a bird flies by.

Is this the life I was made for?

I just got a new job, and I’m so excited to start next week, but there’s this nagging feeling that I’m not good enough. That sooner than later they are going to read an email from me and realize I was not what they asked for. It’s like “imposter syndrome” on steroids.

I’ve never had these feelings before. I was a star student. I got mostly As, with some outlying B’s in either math or science each year. I excelled in leadership positions from high school to college. I got my dream job as a teacher, and then I experienced burnout like no other.

I jumped careers and kept climbing. Each time I’d get promoted or earn a pay raise, I’d ask myself, “Is it time to celebrate now?” “Did I reach a milestone where I could truly celebrate with the world?”

My husband and I bought a house. it’s beautiful. It’s my dream. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted. And yet the first week I would stay up in bed, heart racing, wondering when it would be taken away from me. I was convinced the bank would call me and say, “Hi, we made a mistake. Please give us your house back.”

It may seem crazy, but to me, it was so real.

And what causes all of this? I have some ideas, but I don’t know if that’s where my mind should be going right now. As much as I want to problem solve and figure out if this is a mind issue, an environment issue, or a mixture of both (which is what I suspect), I don’t have the luxury of time. I need to get better.

As I search for a therapist and finally get one on the schedule (therapists are, to no one’s surprise, in very high demand right now), I feel compelled to still write out my thoughts and feelings.

If I write out my feelings they become real. I have to confront them. I have to look them in the face and say, “I control you. Look - I wrote you on this page, and I can delete you just the same. I control the narrative here, not you.”

And yet each time I walk through this mud I get to a clearing where God is waiting there, open arms. I don’t even have the strength to hug Him. I collapse at His feet, exhausted from the journey. I weep, finally releasing all the tension I didn’t know was building up until He takes it off me. God, I’m so sorry for continuing to walk through this mud alone - thinking I could do this all on my own.

And I think that’s the thing about Christianity that I love so much. It’s what keeps me grounded, even if only by a tiny strand of string. I am not in this alone, and I never have been. My mind is weak, and my heart is hurting, but they were never meant to lead in the first place.

There is immense relief in knowing I serve a God whose love for me spans the ever-expanding universe. He carries this world on His shoulders like it’s nothing, yet leans into our lives as a Father leans into His kids.

I don’t know what this all means. I’m honestly emotionally exhausted just writing through all this. But if you are reading this, and I hope you are, I want you to know that you’re not alone.

I would encourage you to sit down with your thoughts and confront them head-on. Write them down or express them through painting or talk them out with a friend. Whatever is going on, you have a God who loves you so much that He sits with you in the darkness and shines only the gentlest of lights. He hears your cries, and he feels your whimpers.

And if you don’t know what to say, start with a psalm. Here’s a great one that expresses the vulnerable and healing heart:

Hear my voice, Lord, when I call; have mercy on me and answer me.
“Come,” says my heart, “seek God’s face”; your face, Lord, do I seek!
Even if my father and mother forsake me, the Lord will take me in.
(Psalm 27:7–8, 10)