Attacks

On this widow's walk, there are many times I feel attack. Grief waves can suddenly swell up without notice. Fear can pounce. And the enemy of my soul can just viciously attack. These are three distinctly different things, but can often be so intertwined they take great discernment to untangle.
I have often had the enemy attack right after a wave of grief. He knows my weaknesses and as the ultimate torturer and accuser, the enemy has no problem kicking me when I am down. An attack from the enemy if not recognized as such can quickly be fear pouncing on me sending me into a panic attack.


Fear is just as much a constant companion for a widow as grief. Many widows suffer from panic attacks in silence. I'll be honest, I rarely share about them in my blogs. They are just so personal and once we make it through one, we just want it put behind us. After dealing with a recent attack, I have decided to step out in transparency and pray this post helps those who suffer and those who want to understand those who do.


For those of you who have never experienced these attacks, I will give a little more info. According to adaa.org, a panic attack is the abrupt onset of intense fear or discomfort that reaches a peak within minutes and includes at least four of the following symptoms:

• Palpitations, pounding heart, or accelerated heart rate
• Sweating
• Trembling or shaking
• Sensations of shortness of breath or smothering
• Feelings of choking
• Chest pain or discomfort
• Nausea or abdominal distress
• Feeling dizzy, unsteady, light-headed, or faint
• Chills or heat sensations
• Paresthesia (numbness or tingling sensations)
• Derealization (feelings of unreality) or depersonalization (being detached from oneself) 
• Fear of losing control or “going crazy”
• Fear of dying

I purposely crossed out their words "or discomfort" because there is nothing discomforting. It is called a panic attack for a reason. I call it fear pouncing on me. Because that is exactly what it feel like as if fear was a mountain lion that pounces on me, it weighs on me, and has its jaws around my neck. It is absolutely terrifying. And it is a head game that affects the body in such an overwhelming way. And there is always a point that just like starting to sled down a hill, there is a point it can not be stopped. Only coped with. "Reaches a peak within minutes" that is very vague. I read somewhere that panic attacks reach their peak at 10 minutes or less. Time seems frozen when these occur. So those "minutes" seem like hours.

There is always a trigger for me. It might just be a simple thing that brings a past pain to the forefront of the mind or the perceived pain to come. It stems around two basic things for me: Pain from losing my husband or fear of something bad happening to someone I love, most often my boys. This includes a fear of dying and my kids finding me and turning against God. Occasionally it is about something happening to someone else they care about and again them turning against God. And the trigger is always accompanied with the lie that I can't trust God. Now in my head I know I can; He is Trustworthy. He is God. Yet my heart knows that same God has allowed painful things to happen, though He in His wisdom and perfection allowed it for a purpose. That doesn't take away the pain that was allowed.

Any widow will tell you the pain of losing her husband is indescribable. We try to uses words: Ripped in half. Shot through with holes. An agony that consumes. But words can't describe the feeling of when two intertwined souls are torn apart. Grief wails that escape the lips and cannot be silence are the closest thing to words that do it justice. No one who experiences it ever forgets it. Some run to unhealthy habits to try to deaden it. Some will literally take their own lives to try to escape it. It is a deep dark canyon of pain that just must be gone through. Only God's grace and healing and time lessens it.

And every widow is different. The Lord has a different path for each person through the canyon and how healing comes. It took me 10 years, a whole decade, to work through the horrible pain. It took me another six months to finally believe it was gone. But the enemy of my soul occasionally attacks and great fear of that deep torturous pain returning overwhelms me. 

Like I said earlier there is always a trigger. For me it is usually things that happened the night my Jim died. Since he died in a vehicle accident, anything to do with people traveling can trigger one, no matter if we are the ones or if it's others who are traveling. Waiting for people to come to our house at night was very difficult for a long time. Letting the boys ride in a vehicle I wasn't driving used to be another. The sound of an ambulance. Someone sharing about someone else being in an accident. Hearing someone say the words "He didn't make it." Other triggers are just when things happen with my boys and the fear of something worse occurring takes over. A particularly dark time was the summer of 2007. I dealt with repeated attacks at bedtime.


Thankfully, I have worked through most of these triggers, and attacks are more rare. The biggest trigger I still struggle with is waiting for someone traveling. My brain knows traveling can turn to tragedy in a second. Now it doesn't happen every time. In fact it is so rare that when it does pounce I am often taken off guard. Having had the great healing in my heart made me a little overconfident. Once I made it 6 months without the pain coming back, I foolishly thought the great fear wouldn't come either. Like I said at the beginning of this post, fear pouncing and attack of the enemy are intertwined. And the enemy won't stop warring against me till I am in Heaven. So I don't know why I thought the fear would never return.

Last summer Snipp took Driver's Ed. He was my first to do so and we were both ready. I did very well. But I was expecting attacks. Only once was I attacked, when he was doing his driving time and I seen an ambulance going down the road with its lights & siren going. Fear pounced, but I was able to battle it and be calm again within 1 city block. I felt so victorious and I think I got a little arrogant.


For I was not prepared when the next attack came this past winter. But I understood the triggers and recognized the enemy, held on in faith and pressed through. But this most recent attack was the worse it had been in years. It hit so suddenly and with such force. I should have immediately called someone. At the very least text someone. The storm within was so strong I never thought of my phone. As I later processed what happened, I ended up writing this poem.







Attacked
6/30/18

Smack.

It hits.

Fierce.

Strong.

My breath goes out of me.

Panic grips my heart.

And fears mix with memories.

We’re waiting.
Waiting.

Waiting.

For someone

Is coming to our house.

Anticipation heightens.

A new vehicle to see.

The boys ask

again & again when

will he be here.

“Not for at least an hour

...or more,” I answer.

But fears and haunting memories

slither around my soul,

cinching tighter

And tighter

with each breath.

I work & work in the kitchen.

The enemy rages strong within.

I know this is just an attack.

But knowing doesn't stop it

And I am overwhelmed.

Fear twists around me like an anaconda.

Horrible memories flash uninvited.

Panic grips my soul as the enemy's lies stab me with doubts.

I feel faith slipping out of my fingers.

I try to trust.

To focus on seeking the face of my Rescuer, my Jesus.

But my terror strickened heart pounds in my chest

And I must focus on forcing myself to breathe instead.

Torrential sorrow is remembered.

Fear of the overwhelming agony paralyzes me.

My superglued heart trembles.

My knees buckle.

I lean against the sink

And silently cry out to My Rescuer.

Tears are locked within.

The enemy tightens his hold.

I gasp for oxygen.

Seconds seem suspended in time.

My son enters.

I stand in strength I don't feel.

Protectively, I throw on my mask.

I must be their strength.

Must not let this attack spread to them.

I swallow the fear.

It twists & turns within.

I walk. I do. I pray.

I cling. I barely breathe.

I choose to trust God

despite doubt & fear squeezing my soul.

That little sliver of trust keeps me breathing.

Fifteen long minutes of torture.

Of the enemy having me in a choke hold.

Then...

My phone sounds.

The Lord had heard my pleas.

A simple text from who we are waiting for

Prompted by my Rescuer.

Instantly, the enemy loosens his grip.

I twist away & he scowls.

My Lord has exposed the enemy's lies.

Smack.

This time the enemy is struck in the jaw.

Out of his broken bleeding teeth,

I pry my peace & trust in God.

The enemy scurries off into the shadows.

All that remain are bruises on my soul.

 

My Comforter calms my trembling heart.

His strength cradles me.

I breathe deeply and freely of His grace.

His peace wraps around me like armor.

And stays that way for many days.

 

My Jesus whispers,

“Even if…

Even if I allow it again,

I will catch you.

Even if great sorrow comes again…

you will be held.

Promise.”

 

Emotionally, I do a trustfall.

My Rescuer catches me.

My soul trembles not.

He is trustworthy.

I do another and another.

And another.

I smile. I hum a song.

  

I feel

Held.

Secure.

Safe.

The attack is over.

For now.

It will come again.

Unannounced.

Intruding.

But hopefully

Not as strong or as long.

I will be brave,

I will be ready.

And I will not hesitate to

call for reinforcements.

Those of you who know what I am talking about get this poem. The trigger and fear might be different, but the feelings are there. For those of you who wonder what a trustfall is, it is when someone stands in front of another person and falls backwards without looking trusting the other person to catch them. I also refer to the promise to be held. This comes from a song I heard early on in my grief journey. The chorus has these words:

This is what it means to be held

How it feels when the sacred is torn from your life

and you survive

This is what it means to be loved

and to know that the promise was

When everything fell, we'd be held.

Songwriters: Christa Nichole Wells

Held lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc, Mike Curb Music

As you hear in the poem, I cope by focusing on God and praying. And I also focus on my breathing. By trying to do something, to press through. Depending on certain triggers, I have certain scriptures I run to and meditate on. I often will text a friend for prayer or even call one if I am able. Again if I am able, I will pinpoint the lie of the enemy and counter it with God's truth. It is a moment by moment battle. This is what works for me. I learned all this through experience. Through learning about spiritual warfare. Through studying the Word of God and begging God to give me verses to war this. Through intense times of prayer often coupled with fasting.  I refuse to stop battling my fears. God's Word says He has not given us a spirit of fear. The fear is an attack of the enemy of my soul. And I refuse to lay down without a fight. I might not win every time. But I refuse to surrender to the enemy. 

My Lord loves me and through each attack He allows, He reminds me to trust Him and His Word. 

And His promised to never leave me nor forsake me. And I will be held.    

If you are the support person for someone dealing with these attacks, understand we know it is a head game, but that we can't just dismiss the fear that is overwhelming us. Ride through it with us. Talk to us. Pray over us. Read or quote scripture. Help us focus on breathing deep. Above all, remind us it won't last forever. Educate yourself and treat us with understanding, but not pity. We are not porcelain dolls, we are warriors. We just need reinforcements.