Do you ever feel completely STUCK, unable to get out of the rut you are in?

This is where I have found myself for the better part of 2018. After moving to Texas, getting married, buying a house, and establishing a new business with my husband – ALL of that in 2017 – I started out 2018 with the plan to give myself a little bit of a break. I deserved it after all of that MOVING and PLANNING. I mean, didn’t I?

The short answer is yes. I did deserve a break. But what started as an intentional break quickly evolved into something that was very unintentional. My comfort zone began to shrink. I started leaning heavily intro my introverted side. I left the house less and less. I let myself become dangerously codependent on my husband. I felt myself slide into that all too familiar depression.

And as this was happening, in both May and August, I had to leave my safe space in San Antonio unexpectedly and fly out to Los Angeles to help care for and support my mom in her health journey. I was unprepared for all the old feelings this would bring up. After all, hadn’t I donated a kidney just two years prior, so I could MOVE ON from constant stress and worry about my mom? I began to panic. I let the negative and fearful voices in my head spin round and round. I surfed every negative “what if” wave of thought all the way through to every bitter ending I could imagine. As I helped my mom with physical things like cleaning and cooking (always the easiest part for me…I’m always thankful to have something tangible and helpful to DO), I let myself completely fall apart mentally.

Mid-August when I came home I was a wreck. I had been away from my safe home and my safe husband and my safe space for three weeks. I was tired. My stomach was in knots. I was taking an Ativan every night just to be able to sleep. I couldn’t get that adrenaline feeling out of my chest. I found myself obsessively checking my phone every few minutes. I would even check my husband’s pulse in the middle of the night because I was afraid something was going to happen to him and THEN where would I be? I let those thoughts spin out of control. I was almost WAITING for something bad to happen.

And then, it did. My ailing cat Lola, my sweet girl of 15 years, stopped eating and entered into her final few days. I mourned. I grieved. I wrote her a eulogy. I hugged my remaining cat tightly. And I hugged even tighter to fear.

I’m in my late thirties now. I saw this (depression) coming a mile away. I’ve seen this before. I’ve been through it and survived. I thought that meant for sure that I’d figured my depression thing all out. I could get myself out. Right? I’ll just try harder.

After stringing together two “good” days I was sure I had it licked. But I didn’t. I found myself avoiding contact with other humans and wondering what fresh hell each new day had in store for me. I even quit bothering to brush my teeth or get out of bed a decent hour. And then one morning I hit a new bottom as I was crying into the kitchen sink. I had that old feeling come up that hasn’t been there for over a DECADE. I wished that I wasn’t here.

And this, my friends…is not a low that you can get out of on your own. My FEAR had completely consumed me and I was unable to move. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t get dressed. I couldn’t relax. And I couldn’t think. I couldn’t even quiet my mind long enough to pick out a movie to watch. I was pretty freaked out about the state I had allowed myself to get in.

So that Sunday, I dragged myself out of bed and went to church. It was raining. It was early. And honestly, part of the reason I went was because I was scheduled to serve and watch the kids during the second service. I wasn’t that excited about it because I didn’t attend the previous week and had no idea what the new sermon series was.

With a title like “Ruts” I wasn’t sure what to expect from pastor when he began to speak. But I found myself identifying with the inability to get myself out of a very deep hole, no matter how much energy I expended or how many different tactics I deployed. I kept sinking back in. You can watch that sermon here.

After service, a thought entered my mind. I should go to one of the people on the prayer team and ask them to pray for me. I didn’t want to, but my fear of things staying the same was greater than my fear of asking a stranger to help me. As I sat waiting for a spot to open up, I almost changed my mind a few times. Asking a stranger to pray for you is scary. When it was finally my turn to go up, I could barely get the words out. I told one of the pastors that I was having trouble praying and that I needed help to not be afraid of everything. Literally everything. Honestly, I don’t remember what he said when he prayed for me. But I felt that feeling of relief that you get when the damn breaks and you feel free of keeping the burden to yourself. Whew.

After looking at this from a different perspective, I see that I’ve spent this entire year trying to AVOID things. I’ve been trying to prevent disaster, making myself smaller, minimizing risk, avoiding other people, pulling myself inward. I’ve been super proactive about all the things I don’t want.

For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind. – 2 Timothy 1:7 (King James Version)

I’ve forgotten how important it is to be proactive about the things we DO WANT. It’s important to focus on what I put into my head and my heart…and my life. I have been wondering why I don’t feel like myself, why I feel lost. It’s because I’m not being true to who I am. A small comfort zone is a dangerous thing, and the worst part is that I consciously created this small comfort zone for myself.

Apparently, the best way to get out of a rut is to fill up the hole with good things until you reach level ground. You take every negative thought in your head and reprogram your thinking with good thoughts. If you are Christian, some of those good thoughts come directly from the word of God. If you’re not, find a mentor or someone you trust, and they can help you find some solid, sane truths for your life. Write them down. Pile them up. Climb on top of them. Stand on them. Repeat.

There isn’t a finished, happy conclusion…yet. I wanted to share my struggle while I’m still standing in it because this feels more authentic to me. I’m not prepared to wrap this up with a bow and call it finished. My mental health and my continuing fight just to exist in the world isn’t something that I can ever ignore. But today I have hope, a plan, support, and the desire to get out of this rut. And so today…I call that a win.

I’m opening up the comments on this post…What type of rut are you struggling with? What’s your plan to fill the place of that rut?