Yesterday I didn’t release anything, so in order to stay on track with these hundred days of Confessions, today I bring you a double feature. Considering that readership is usually low on Saturdays anyway, I think this makes sense and I’ll probably make this somewhat of a weekend routine.
Today’s segments are “A Demon Named Anxiety” and “The Devil’s In The Details”.
A Demon Named Anxiety
Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?
-Matthew 6:25
It’s wintertime, and for me that means only one thing: anxiety. I don’t know why this happens, but every winter, without fail, I find myself engaged in a sometimes crippling battle with my mind. When the season of the sun sets, all of my demons come out to play (and they sure like to have fun). It’s always the same general experience, although it looks a bit different every year. This year is no different.
For me, the manifestation of my anxiety is always physical. As a kid (and well into adulthood), I suffered from severe hypochondria and OCD. It’s gotten so much better in the last few years, but I still haven’t found a way to shake the winters. This time, it started with a strange mucus build-up in the back of my throat that lasted for weeks. Then, as of recently, I started to get sharp pins and needles in my hands, feet and tongue. It lasts throughout the day, on and off, and never really goes away. I know that there are most certainly catalysts for these things, but during this time of year they just seem to stick in my mind. My thoughts race and I start to spiral, finding myself consumed with worry all day long wondering what could possibly be wrong with me (I don’t advise consulting doctor Google in these situations).
Funny thing is, there are times when the thoughts - and the physical symptoms - completely disappear: when I’m lost in work, engaged with friends and family, or even training. When I’m completely outside of my mind, everything fades away. That tells me that the root of all this lives in my mind, as I’ve known it always has. This doesn’t necessarily fix the problem overnight, but it gives me plenty of information that I think is useful. The anxiety, worry and fear from all this is rooted in a very deep part of myself. It’s a part of me that’s afraid of life, afraid of they myriad list of things that could go wrong at any moment, afraid that one day I’m going to die. This demon found its way inside of me long ago and hasn’t loosened its grip since. I’ve come a long way, but its times like these that remind me that it’s still quite alive within me.
Before we chalk this up to another case of modern mental illness, which in part it most certainly is, I want it to be known that I have tried everything imaginable to “fix” this. I’ve done years of therapy with a great therapist, I’ve tried anti-depressants, I’ve tried insane physical fitness and “perfect” nutrition. All of these things have helped in different ways, but none of them killed the demon. If nothing else, they just made it hibernate for brief periods. That’s left me with plenty of seasons of peace and tranquility, but in the back of my mind I know that it could all turn at the drop of a dime.
This brings me to that strange phenomenon I’ve mentioned in earlier segments - the desire for something (or someone) to take this from me, to relieve me of this burden. I’ve tried to use others to relieve it - namely through love and sex - but that, too, has only brought temporary relief. This desire I have cannot be fulfilled by any man or anything made by man. Not completely, at least. That’s why I find it so strange that this “man,” Jesus of Nazareth, claimed himself to be that fulfillment, to be the embodiment of perfect relief. I had this desire even when I wasn’t fully conscious of this fact, even when the name of Christ was far from my mind. I now understand what people mean when they say, “He knows me”.
It’s all still a little too far away, though. It’s like I can’t quite grasp it. I feel his words reverberate though me, but it ends there. I pray, but what (or who) to? An image of a bearded man I saw when I was a child? A vague idea of some supernatural being? A cozy and warm feeling? I can’t connect fully to any of these things, at least not yet. Christ’s message is promising and beautiful, but he sure is elusive.
For now, the demon anxiety lives on and wages war with my soul. All I can do is continue to pray, continue to write and continue to love. The rest in, quite literally, in God’s hands…
The Devil’s In The Details
If devils exist, their first aim is to give you an anesthetic -- to put you off your guard. Only if that fails, do you become aware of them.
-C.S. Lewis
Do you believe in the Devil?
It’s a loaded question. Some people believe the Devil, also known as Satan, was a myth constructed by religion to keep the populace in fear. Others say he is very real, is a fallen angel and eagerly awaits your eternal damnation in Hell. There’s probably a thousand more interpretations that lie between the two extremes.
So, what do I believe?
I’m not going to say “believe”. Instead, I’m going to say “know” and “experience”.
What I know is that the lore of Satan is complicated, often misinterpreted, and originated way before Christ. I’ll go into it in detail in a later segment, but what I’ll say for now is that there’s more than meets the eye with this one. The legend of Lucifer, the association with the Morning Star, and the mythos of the great fall have incredible depth and meaning not just biblically but for human history as a whole. The dynamic of Christianity as an antithesis to Satan is one of the most scandalous, vitriolic and powerful elements to the faith. The truth is, I don’t have any answers here except my own experience and little attention to detail.
The name Satan means “adversary,” and for me that’s the most important thing. Looked at from this angle, it becomes the concept that there is some force (or energy, or thing, or being) that is in opposition to my greatest good. This could mean my development, my peace or anything that benefits my life. From firsthand experience I know this to exist, but lets it a step further.
An attribute of this Satan character is to work via the good, the beautiful, the pleasurable. His (and I use “his” now just for ease) modus operandi is to ensnare, to lure, to trap. It’s as if it knows your weakness and exploits it to the fullest. See, I’d call that a crock of shit minus the fact that the most suffering I’ve experienced came from exactly this type of scenario.
I need to be careful here, as I never want to involve or implicate anyone in my writing. Many people who read my work know me and some of the details of my life, and it’s my responsibility not to hurt anyone with anything I write, ever. That’s just one of my terms. What I will say is that the darkest period of my life was preceded by what I thought was the most beautiful. Love was my weakness, and that’s where it started. Not just one way, but two. Twice, I was on the precipice of getting everything I perceived I ever wanted. Twice, I was on the verge of paradise. Twice, it was ripped away from me in ways that were so particularly painful and personal I can’t help but think the universe conspired against me just to see me suffer as much as I could. On top of that, these stories unraveled themselves simultaneously. If I tried to hurt myself in the worst ways I could think of, I couldn’t come up with anything close to that diabolical.
Strangely enough, this is what C.S. Lewis said about the Devil:
He (the devil) always sends errors into the world in pairs--pairs of opposites...He relies on your extra dislike of one to draw you gradually into the opposite one. But do not let us be fooled. We have to keep our eyes on the goal and go straight through between both errors. We have no other concern than that with either of them.
…weird…
Look, I’m not here to complain. Some of the most beautiful things, including love, came to me in the aftermath of that period. I’m bringing this up because when I look back now, it completely baffles me how strange it was. It was as if someone (or something) knew. Knew me, knew my story, knew the exact tools, methods and people to use against me. Like a reverse synchronicity on a bewildering scale. Sure, I could chalk it up to coincidence, but that itself seems against reason. There was just too much - too many small details and melded storylines - to comfortably conclude it was all just chance. If I put my intellectual brain on hold for moment and let my feelings do the thinking, I know that what I encountered was that adversarial force, whatever that may be.
I don’t think I need to know what the Devil looks like or if there’s a true Hell, and I certainly don’t need to judge others for what they believe about it. What I do know for certain is that there are greater forces of good and evil at play in the world - greater forces than I could ever comprehend. I’ve experienced them firsthand, and that was more than enough to guide my intentions and actions moving forward.
When I am in my head and it is hard to shake, I keep reminding myself during those times that "my mind is trying to kill me".