Frank

There was a whole week and a half where I felt really good. My energy was up, I felt more loving towards Atrion and Cody, my anxiety levels were down, and I had no physical pain.
Let me back up here. I have mentioned my anxiety in a couple previous posts, but it's probably really vague to those of you who are not my husband or my sister who know everything about me. My anxiety started out as a symptom of another persistent problem that is more embarrassing to talk about. IRRITABLE BOWEL SYNDROME!!!!!! Dun-dun-dun. There I said it. My bowels are irritable. Just like me. But seriously, it sucks. IBS is usually diagnosed by eliminating more terrible diseases like Crohn's disease or inflammations like diverticulitis. It's characterized by stomach pain and cramps, accompanied by either constipation or diarrhea, that are relieved only by having a bowel movement. I know...it's gross to talk about. Bear with me, though. I don't know when I will have a flare. I had no problems at all when I was pregnant with Atrion, but a week after I had him, I had a flare up. The cramps were comparable to labor pains. Since I have no idea when or why a spasm will occur, it makes it hard to want to be in a situation where I can't leave easily. This is common with people who suffer from IBS. They start to get anxiety about social situations, but it isn't social anxiety disorder. It's more of a general anxiety about social situations. Some examples that caused me anxiety are: being in a car with people whom I would feel embarrassed if I had to ask to pull over, speaking in church (not because the fear of speaking...I am actually pretty good at speeches, but because I can't just leave the stand unnoticed), and being at other people's houses or any place where there is only one bathroom and it is occupied.
I understand the hilarity of these issues. My sister and I laugh about it all the time, because it's silly. Why would I have this anxiety over these silly bathroom related issues. But its real. And, as a fact, 1 in 5 Americans suffer from it. You wouldn't know it though because who wants to talk about it?
Okay, so I got prescribed Paxil to help with my anxiety. Since anxiety can cause IBS flare ups, that was an important step. I was on it for a year and it helped a lot. Although it does have side effects. I mostly was sleepy after the initial euphoric effects wore off. What I wasn't aware of, was the effects of withdrawals from coming off the medication. There are studies that show that Paxil might be horrible to take when you are pregnant and Cody and I were trying again so I decided to go off of it with the Doctor's consent. She said I could stay on it at a lower dose if I wanted to, but I went off of it completely. The side effects were masked a bit by the morning sickness and tiredness and crankiness. However, once I entered the hospital for my emergency d and c, the anxiety came raging back in. only now it was coupled with a traumatic event.

I decided to go back on Paxil two weeks ago to help with my depression. I was in a dark place emotionally and spiritually. Not just for myself. I have friends and family who are going through such rough things that I wondered at the reason for it all. What is the point of this suffering? I hadn't suffered nearly as much as some others but I was hurting a lot. During the day, I took care of my son and felt okay, but once he was in bed and it was just me and Cody it sort of fell apart. Luckily Cody is my rock. He is amazing. He helped as much as he could. My hormones are still working themselves out to this day. The Paxil immediately relieved my depression. I didn't feel so dark. I sort of felt like I cheated by taking medication for some reason, but it helped so I am not going to complain.

I started losing weight, the healthy way, and we sold our trailer and bought a car. I started feeling the pieces were falling into place. Then, on Sunday night, after I raved about my wonderful weekend (which it was), I started having horrible IBS pains. Usually they last about an hour or two and then go away. This time, they lasted for almost 13 hours. I would get about an hour break in between so it went on for 24 hours straight. There were a lot of factors as to why this happened (hormones, side effects of medication, stress). The crappy (pun intended) thing is that during the most painful time, I had a panic attack. Not a small one. I started thinking that I might have to go to the hospital because the pain was so bad and that triggered my anxiety from the last time I was at the hospital and it all spiraled down from there. I didn't know what was happening to me. I got a light headed, detached feeling, started sweating profusely, hot flashes and pin prickles all over my skin, and feeling like I was going to pass out. I thought I was actually going to die. Full blown panic attack. Since I had such a horrid experience at the hospital, it has given me a fear of that particular place. I don't feel that way about any other hospital. Just that one.

Anyway...I got my anxiety under control through prayer, will-power and deep breathing. I was confused why it had happened so in between spasms, I looked it up. Turns out Paxil, my anti-anxiety medication, can cause anxiety. I don't know for sure if this was the cause or I was just really out of whack, but that is one explanation. I ended up having three more attacks on a smaller scale (I knew what it was and how to control it) since then. These attacks caused me to spiral down into a funk again. Not only was I not feeling well physically, but my emotional and spiritual state was out of whack again. Feeling sheer panic means I am not feeling the comfort of the spirit. It has been an exhausting battle the last two days.

I have explained all of this, not because I enjoy talking about it, but because it will help you understand the profound effect another event had on me.
Today, I got in my new car to make a very quick trip to Walgreens for gatorade and saltines. I grabbed my umbrella since it was raining and stopped at the red box for a peek at the movies. I didn't notice the skinny black guy huddled next to it talking with another lady. I just assumed they were together and had just returned movies. I decided against a movie and started to head indoors when the man stopped me. He was talking very fast and with a thick accent. He was missing most of his teeth and was probably a little drunk. I couldn't understand a word. He was holding poster board and had sketched a woman on it and was pointing at it. Then he stopped talking and looked at me expectantly. I looked back and forth at him and the poster and asked:
"What do you need?"
"I'm hungry." It was a response I understood very clearly. He continued by saying that he was homeless and hadn't eaten in a while. He just needed some money to buy some food.
I told him I didn't have any cash on me (which is true, by the way), and asked if I could instead buy him some food from inside the store. He heartily agreed and we walked into Walgreen's. He was worried about the prices because Walgreen's is marked up higher, but I told him to get whatever he wanted and not to worry. He picked out a loaf of bread, two frozen pizzas (which he said he would heat up in a microwave at a gas station), a bag of chips and a 12 pack of sunkist. Part of me wanted to pick out healthier choices for him, but this was his shopping spree. Not mine.

We checked out and while the woman was bagging his groceries he looked at me and said "You are beautiful." It wasn't in a creepy way, it was more like he was saying I was a beautiful person inside. He also told me over and over again that he loved me and that he had my back if I ever needed him. He also insisted I give him a hug. I wish I would have hugged him more than I did. As I got into my car he took up his position by the redbox machine with his bag of groceries and I could hear the words to the hymn "Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief" blaring in my head as only hymns can blare without being annoying. I could see him waving to me the whole time as I drove out of sight. He was really like a little boy, only 50 years older.

That experience, more than anything else that has happened in the past year has taught me so much. I need to get out of my own head. Stop being stuck on my own problems and help others out when the opportunity presents itself. I was a woman who was alone and I could have easily said "Sorry. No" and went my way thinking of the valid excuses to soothe my conscience. We are all in this world and there is pain and suffering and no one will get by unscathed. However, we can lessen the burdens of others and help them on their way. I know that his name is Frank, and he is always at Walgreen's in the afternoon. I think some missionaries will be stopping to talk to him soon. I don't want to have fear and panic overtake my life. I want the everlasting love of Christ to heal me and make me whole. Even if I am physically weak, I can be spiritually strong no matter what happens. I am striving for this and will continually do so. Thank you Frank for helping me when I needed it most.



A poor wayfaring Man of grief
Hath often crossed me on my way,
Who sued so humbly for relief
That I could never answer nay.
I had not power to ask his name,
Whereto he went, or whence he came;
Yet there was something in his eye
That won my love; I knew not why