It has made its home inside of me, and I don’t know how to get it to go away. The counseling was a bust, and I’m left here crying out to the Lord. I have confidence that he is more than able to take this anxiety away from me. I am just waiting.
I am waiting for an answer to many prayers. I am waiting to see what the Lord will use this for. I am waiting to see if he will take it away. I hope he will. He’s my only option. He’s the only one who can do anything about this anxiety. I know I can’t do anything about it on my own.
I can go a while without major bouts of anxiety, and just when I think it may be gone, its there. Making my heart rate soar, my breathing become shallow, and my body to tingle. I feel so out of control when it happens, and I hate it. There’s just nothing I can do about it.
I just have to deal with it. It has no preference on location either. It can happen in my room, in class, in the library, in the dining hall. Wherever really. Sometimes I wonder if the people around me can tell what’s going on inside of me. Part of me wants them to be able to tell, but part of me hopes they will never notice. What could they do about it anyways? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. They would just look at me differently if they found out. Maybe some of them would try to help, but I am not convinced that they could make a difference.
There’s something else I need you to know. It’s something that I am having a hard time saying.
I was hurt.
I was hurt when you were refusing to make time for me. I was hurt when you were always “busy.” I was hurt when you made time for them instead. I was hurt because I felt abandoned.
I was hurt when I found out who it was. I was hurt when I realized our friendship wasn’t what I thought it was. I was hurt because I felt betrayed.
I was hurt because I felt insignificant. I was hurt because we didn’t talk. I was hurt because you didn’t know what’s going on in my life and I didn’t know what’s going on in yours. I was hurt because I felt alone.
I was hurt because I didn’t know what to do. I was hurt because I needed some advice. I was hurt because I had no one to go to. I was hurt because I was confused.
I was hurt because I felt like I couldn’t talk to you anymore. I was hurt because I trusted you. I was hurt because you pulled away. I was hurt because I was in need.
I was hurt because I missed our long conversations. I was hurt because I missed laughing with you. I was hurt because I missed the time we spent together. I was hurt because I missed out friendship.
I was hurt because you let them make you choose. I was hurt because you didn’t stick up for me. I was hurt because you let them determine our friendship. I was hurt because you let them say that about me.
I was hurt because you didn’t tell me what was going on. I was hurt because you stepped out of my life without reason. I was hurt because you were hurt. I was hurt because I didn’t feel trusted.
I’m sorry I don’t know how to tell you. I’m sorry that I’m keeping things from you. I’m sorry I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry because I know you’re hurting too. I’m sorry because we’re drifting apart. I’m sorry because that’s not what I want.
I love you lots. I miss you more. I need you back.
I am conflicted. I don’t know if I should go. I suppose I should, but I really don’t want to go.
Last time it just left me feeling so hurt. So ashamed. So embarrassed. So much like a failure. I don’t want to feel that again. And, I shouldn’t feel it. She shouldn’t cause those feelings. I just needed some help. That’s all. But, she didn’t give it to me. She didn’t even try. She told me it was weird and to just deal with it. That is not help. That is hurtful.
Now I’m left wondering why it is it hasn’t given me even a glimmer of hope. I know this won’t fix overnight, but I need some help getting there. I know it may take a while and some digging, but I was ready for that. I was ready to try. I was ready to figure this thing out. I don’t feel like she was. I don’t feel like she gave me the time of day. She brushed me off, and I feel awful because of it. I don’t know what to do or how I should feel. I had felt so much hope. I had felt like this is what I needed to do. Now, I am so confused.
I feel bad for skipping, but I’m afraid I’ll feel worse if I go. I don’t know what to do, and I don’t know who to ask about it. It’s just hard to explain. And, I’m embarrassed that this isn’t even going right. How can I screw up counseling? Am I that big of a failure? Am I that messed up?
She may never know. She may never see me again for another session. Or, maybe she will. I just don’t know what to do. But, I mean, that’s why I went to her in the first place, because I didn’t know what to do. Here I am, still not knowing what to do and not having hope of someone to help.
I feel lost. I feel hurt. I feel like I’ve failed. Failed at therapy. That’s a new low.
Here I am, Lord. You’ll find me here at the bottom.
Well, never until now. This year I have become homesick. Really, this semester, I have become homesick. So homesick that I go home to my mom and cry when I have to leave. I shirk responsibilities and cancel plans to go home. I make up reasons to justify my coming home. Once I’m home, I don’t want to leave.
Today I was leaving home and turned around and came back. I wasn’t ready to leave. I won’t be ready tomorrow either, but at least I have one more day here.
I don’t know why I’m so homesick. I just miss my mom. A lot. She makes me feel less anxious. She makes me feel at home. This hasn’t always been the case, but now it is. I love her and value time we spend together. I don’t want out time together to end. I just want to be with her. I just want to feel at home.
I hate feeling homesick. But, I am loving being home with my mom. I miss her so much when I’m gone. It hurts.
I don’t feel at home in my apartment. I hate spending time there. But, I enjoy spending time at home. I feel loved. I feel wanted. I feel free of anxiety.