Even at your lowest, you have to find the strength to FIGHT!

This post is going to be the most vulnerable I have allowed myself to be in long time and likely ever. As of late, I have been fairly open about myself to the people around me. However, just as in the past, I still generally keep a part of me closed off as a sort of protection or cautionary measure. But it is time to get this off my mind. Sadly, in the past few months, I have had more friends than I would like dealing with some serious life issues and situations. The rigors of life have been defeating them and all I have been able to do is sit back and watch as their worlds came crashing down. I do my best to help but there is not really much that I can do besides encourage them to stay strong mentally and stay committed to their faith and spirituality (I don’t normally discuss religion in my posts…but I am today and likely will in the future.  For those offended by that…well, I am praying for you) I shared my story with one friend and luckily she found strength within my ordeal. My situation helped her see things a bit clearer and encouraged her to develop the will to overcome her seemingly irreparable path that she had been on as of late. So I have decided to share this story with everyone. My hope, and my prayer, is that someone else will find the light in their perpetual darkness after hearing this story.

This is going to be hard, re-visiting this time in my life. This will be a bit a long, so bear with me. But as the tears start to swell sitting her writing this, I know this story will help someone out there. So here we go...

Just over a year ago, I went through one of the roughest times of my life. My chronic extreme anxiety was as bad as ever and many aspects of my life seemed to be failing. For me, being the driven and ambitious individual that I am, to have many portions of my life going so poorly, it was difficult. Also, I am a bit of a control freak and perfectionist. I like things in order and I like them done right. But at this time the more things I tried to control, the worst that situation became. Also, my kidney disease was getting significantly worse without any real reason as to the cause. It was a possibility that a kidney transplant or dialysis was going to be needed by my early-mid 30’s. And my lower back pain was overly intense again which the doctor thought was due to some of the metal from my spinal fusion having come loose. Essentially, everything around me was going wrong and no remedy was working. I was broken. In ever meaning of the word, I was broken. I felt lost and lonely…sad and angry. I was desperate for change but there was no viable end to the pain and hurt in sight.  Every day I would wake up wishing I hadn’t. The anxiety became so intense that I was actually passing out during the attacks and not waking up for hours. In one particular incident I was passed out for nearly 12 hours, in the middle of my bedroom floor. I woke up to my dog lying next to me, whining out of fear and confusion I presume. Countless missed calls and text from people that I had appointments with that day. This wasn’t the only occurrence. In a given week, I would get so worked up from the anxiety that I was losing consciousness at least 3-4 times a week. Sometimes I would be out briefly and other time nearly half the day. My anxiety medication was no match for the attacks I was having. I sought help from a counselor and psychologist, but it didn’t help. Nothing helped. And the misery gained more and more steam in the process. But I wouldn’t let anyone close to me know what was going on. I was embarrassed. After all, I was the fixer. Friends and family came to me with their issues and I helped them overcome. I listened, encouraged, and helped through the problems start to finish. But if I can help others, surely I could help myself…right? So since I couldn’t, there was no way others should know that. They would understand, right? They wouldn’t trust me anymore to be there for them, would they? Reflecting back on that mindset, it was absolutely crazy to think that way. The people that cared about me would surely be able to help or at least just support me through the heartache. But in my mind, no one was able to help. So I acted as such. Each day, I would go to work or to Crossfit, throw a smile on my face and no one would know. Hanging out with friends was just the same as it was when things were “good” in my mind. I had a storm going inside but on the outside I was the same calm and easy going Justin that everyone knew. Talking to my family back home on the phone, they had no clue. I did my best to make sure no one knew the pain in which I was experiencing. But when I was alone, the real story came out. My thoughts would swirl out of control and I was emotionally damaged; lying in the fetal position in bed trembling uncontrollably from the anxiety. Crying and weeping nonstop. Sweating one minute and cold chills the next. Not eating for days at a time…maybe a cup of water if I could keep it down without vomiting. Overall, just a wreck. Couldn't help but think about the future and how I wasn't going to reach my personal and professional goals, or so I thought. What was my financial future going to be like? Am I saving enough money now to be set up for financial ease later in life? Would I ever get married? None of my relationships ever seemed to last despite my efforts that, to me, would be a blessing for any girl to have part of their life. I always go above and beyond for the girl. But yet, things never worked out. Or the girl never wanted to commit long term with me. It had to be me. Maybe I wasn't attractive enough or maybe I wasn't as amazing of a guy as I thought.  No one wants to be with me. Possibly the fact that I’m a big guy…yeah that’s probably it. Oh and sure you’re nice Justin but that’s about all you are. Nothing more. What was my future going to look like? Why can’t I control my anxiety? How could someone so strong be so weak like this right now? My brothers will be ashamed of me. My family won’t understand. When will this hurt end?

Now, I prayed from time to time…but in my mind, at the time, even the Lord couldn't help me. I had been saved and committed my life to Christ the prior Summer and actually had grown quite a bit in my faith. But during this particular time, I strayed from my faith. I was angry at God for allowing me to go through this. How could he? He loves me but is letting this hurt happen? He can’t possibly love me like the church wants me to believe, right? It’s all foolish to me now, but it was a real mindset back then for me.

After months of battling this ordeal I finally sought additional help from my doctor. At this point, I could barely function normally. Constantly tired and weak. No appetite and just as depressed and hopeless feeling as ever. No to mention the loss of consciousness was occurring more and more frequently. Once I saw my doctor, he ran a series of test and was able to see the external and internal toll these anxiety attacks were having on my body. I was so malnourished that he was astonished I had enough energy to even get out of bed each day let alone go about each day as if nothing was wrong. He even considered admitting me into the hospital to get food and fluids in me. I fought him on this, of course. Being admitted meant everyone would know and that could not happen. So he told me that he was mandating I go on vacation. At least 7-10 days with no contact with anyone. Get away and refresh. Take my new meds and just relax and find peace. Only allowed to tell one person where I was going, merely as a precaution in case something happened. He told me that he knew I wouldn’t want to go. But he also told me that my body was in such bad condition that one more brutal anxiety attack and loss of consciousness, could result in me not waking up. My body would literally shut down and I would be gone. Even with this, I still didn’t want to go. Just stubborn and stupid. To his face, I agreed. I just wanted to get out of there. But in my mind there was no way I was going on an extended vacation. I had work to do, it was going to be expensive, I didn’t feel like traveling…the excuses went on and on. That night I called my brother and told him what the doctor said. But I also told him that I wasn’t going and then proceeded to explain my reasons. As he cut me off mid-sentence, his response was direct and firm, “Justin, stop. stop. You are not well. So you’re going.” Shocked and unsure how to respond, I told him even if I wanted to go I couldn’t afford an unplanned 10 day vacation, that’s just not going to happen. His response, “Did you forget what I do for a living?! I have the means to help you so I am paying for this trip. So go figure out where you’re going, send me a dollar amount, and I’ll send the money.” Immediately I was grateful yet incredibly sad. Look at me, having to be bailed out by my younger brother. That’s my job! I am always the responsible one that is the support of my younger brothers, not the other way around. My natural response was to thank him but reject his offer. But coincidentally, his natural response, “I don’t care what you say. Either you plan this trip or Ill plan it for you. But you’re going! Its ok to be vulnerable. Its ok to let others help you. You can’t be our big brother while you’re broken like this. And if anything happens to you and you don’t wake up, what are we going to do then. This family needs you. And your friends need you. So go get well.” After a long pause, and trying to hold back the tears, I agreed. A week later, I was off on vacation.

I went to a few different places. Flew into one area and then drove to others. Kept a very low profile and didn’t interact much with people. Saw a couple close friends that happened to be in the area I was in at the time. Seeing them and witnessing the sadness and emotion they had about everything I was dealing with really hurt me. Genuine care and compassion for me…I know it sounds bizarre that I didn’t think those close to me should care about me in that way, but honestly its how I felt. To me, I was there to help others but no one should care about me. Save that energy for themselves or someone else. But I was wrong and humbled which actually turned out to be good medicine. I didn’t spend much time with these friends. The majority of the time I was on my own. Just thinking and taking in my surroundings. Doing my best to find peace.

On my last night of vacation, the anxiety attacks started again. They hadn’t been too bad at all since I left. In fact, I had days without an attack which was weird because that was all I had come to know over the past months. However, on this night, it was my worse yet. Out of all my anxiety problems from the time I was young until now, this was the worst. Shaking, crying, nose bleeds, vomiting, blurred visions, going in and out of consciousness…it was bad. I remember waking up on the floor drenched in sweat lying in my vomit and blood. I composed myself as best as possible as crawled into my hotel bed. My body felt like it had never felt before. I was never so weak and in pain. I could barely breathe and my heart was racing. I couldn’t help but think that this was it. This was that one attack the doctor warned me about. I wasn’t going to wake up and I was going to be gone. At first, I was scared which heightened the anxiety. Then out of nowhere, in the midst of the crying and panic, I became calm. I had made my peace with the situation. This was how I was supposed to go…so be it. Oddly enough, just as quickly as abandoned my faith once this ordeal started months prior, I had just as quickly reverted back to that faith in this moment. After trying to reach for my cell phone to call Spencer to say good bye, but being too weak to do so, I took a deep breath and just prayed. Prayed. Prayed. It was the only thing my mind thought to do. Almost like a subconscious response. And so, I prayed. I asked the lord to bless my family. Don’t let my mother, father, or brothers hurt too badly from this. Let them know that they were my life and I loved them beyond measure. Bless my mother’s heart and help her overcome. Ease their mourning. Help all my friends remember all the fun times and good memories.  Be sure my dog Riley ends up somewhere safe. Please don’t let those I’ve hurt through all this resent me or hate me. Especially someone in particular…Please help this person understand and know how much I sincerely cared about them and I was so sorry. Bless everyone that knew me and help them deal with my passing and go on to live wonderful and fulfilling lives. I just want everyone to be happy and to be loved. After I prayed, I told God I was read, closed my eyes…and prepared for it all to end.

The next night I woke up! I woke up! Although it was about twenty hours later, I woke up. I was weak and could barely move, but I was awake. I could hardly see from the blurred vision but I was awake. I didn’t die. It wasn’t the end. I woke up.

At that moment, I was confused but even more so, I was astonished at the fact that I was awake. Despite my welcoming of death and actually feeling deaths presence in that room the night before, I woke up. God woke me up. That night I was at my lowest point and I welcomed DEATH...but he had brought me back. It wasn’t time to end. I still had a purpose and a reason to be on this earth and to be with the people I cared about. Then and there I prayed and apologized to God. Over and over again I begged for forgiveness and apologized. Then, I decided that I would never ever again get to this place emotionally, mentally, physically, or spiritually. I will fight! The anxiety, the crazy thoughts, the self-defeating tendencies…never again! I will fight! I’ve always been a fighter…Always stood out from the bunch…The person that always did noteworthy things in his life. The person that embodied an inner strength that was usually unwavering. I am a special person with so much to offer this world and never again would I allow myself to be defeated in that way…I will fight! And so, I did. I came back and was refreshed and reborn in a sense. I still have moments of mild weakness but I fight. I don’t give in. And with this renewed fight burning in me, I grew stronger. My faith has never been deeper…I thank the heavens above every day for Pastor Chris Galanos and the Experience Life staff. They have helped me in ways that I can’t even express with words without getting emotional. My appreciation for life, never better. I fight. I am becoming the person I was destined to be. Sure things happen that get me down or hurt me to my core…but I fight away the anxiety and pain. There are days my anxiety is so bad I don’t want to get out of bed…but I get up anyways. I fight! And damnit, I am a great person. I do have a future. I am good looking man. A good looking husky yet athletically built man at that! I will be successful. Financially, I will be just fine. And as for a special lady in my life one day, it will happen. haha and honestly anyone who knows me knows that any lady would be more than blessed to be with me. I can’t tell you how much it angers me that I ever thought differently, about all of this…Basically, no matter the situation now, I pray and I fight…

So to all my family and friends out there, I don’t share this with you for your pity. I share this so that you will also find your strength during times of trial. You will keep your faith and you will fight. When you just want to give up, keep going. As life is throwing blow after blow at you, keep getting back up and fight. To those of you that have not experienced anything of this magnitude, it can happen. And when it does, you fight! Don’t ever stop fighting.

With love, strength, and blessing to you all.

JPay