Tangible

When I was a little kid, I had a special blanket. Blankie. It went everywhere with me. The lining around the edge came loose on one side. My mom would fix it every once in a while, but I'd always pull it right back off. The loose loop made a good handle. Or cape. I would frequently be seen with Blankie in my left hand and the index and middle fingers of my right hand stuffed in my mouth. Four orthodontists later...

I think it's just nice to have something tangible to hold onto sometimes.

A lot of kids do this. One of my best friends growing up had a Snoopy. Eventually we outgrew the dog and the blanket, as we all tend to do. But it's still nice to have something tangible, even as someone who might qualify as a grown-up, isn't it?

I have this necklace. It's the silver cross I received at my baptism, and it says "Save and protect" on the back in Slavonic. I cannot tell you how many times in the last month I have found myself hunched over, clutching that cross. When I can't breath, when the tears won't stop, there's the cross. It reminds me that even if I feel like I'm alone (feelings sometimes lie, Counselor says), I'm really not. It's not magic; it doesn't fix everything, but it does help.

I have always had so much trouble with that. I've beat myself up so many times because I get so mixed up when things happen. I've always figured, Hey, I've been at this business of being a Christian my whole life. What is the deal here? I have some seriously weak faith or something if I have so much trouble hanging on. I see no one else struggling like this...

Sometimes the accusations have been reinforced by others. These became the voices in my head. The voice that tells me that everything is my fault was a teacher. The voice that calls me lazy was several teachers. (God help the smart kids with learning disabilities. No one else will.) Useless, Worthless, and Too Sensitive started as my junior high classmates. I think I have myself to blame for Energy Drain, though that voice has acquired names as well. The most brutal is Discarded. That one carries a long list of names, each of them having once been an important relationship. This tyrant feeds all the others, and the weapons I have are weak against it.

These and others have all taken up residence in my brain, and when they wake up, it can get pretty noisy. Sometimes I can find one of the good voices- Counselor, Big Brother, or some other positive influence. Sometimes I can almost hear them. Sometimes that helps. But not always. Frequently, I have no choice but to ride out the storm. Sometimes it's words. Sometimes it's just unintelligible screaming. Sometimes the noise turns into a panic attack, as was the case two weeks ago when Discarded woke up.

When these tempests come, when I am forced to go through them, I need something to hold onto. I've been spotted on countless occasions sitting on the floor with my knees pulled up and my arms wrapped around them as though to hold myself together.

It hasn't been quite that bad in over a year, thanks to a lot of hard work with Counselor and a lot of support from some long-suffering friends. But these attacks do still come, and if there's no one to speak against them, I still do so much better if I have something tangible to hold onto. Something that at least hints at some semblance of security. In the past, that something has been a pillow or a large teddy bear, among other things.

I don't know if I'll ever be completely free of this waking nightmare. What I do know is that though they can still be powerful, they no longer have the power to destroy me. Even when I can't make it stop, I have something tangible to hold onto that reminds me that there's Someone bigger than the chaos, and that I belong to that Someone. Even if the voices or the panic beat me up, I'll be ok.

I'll always eventually be ok.

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Ooooooh. And, as if on cue, Discarded has woken up again and taken the form of a waiguoren. Better than the form it was trying to wear earlier today.