"Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest."
It's 6:30 am and I'm awake and dressed.
I feel rested, restored.... finally.
I had done all I knew to do.
I'd had some difficult conversations, I'd talked to the therapist, I'd prayed, I'd thought things over in my head and run them by my heart, I knew what the next important step was and none of that made the ache in my chest and the fear go away.
Nothing brought rest.
I was still in panic mode.
If you've never had a panic attack- oh, they're lovely. Sometimes they linger and every minute of every day is painful.
It felt like there was a big purple ball of tension and fear sitting on my chest that was twisting and turning in on itself, that burned and had claws sunk deep in my chest and nothing was making it go away.
No matter what fears were eased, no mater what good was happening, I felt it, constantly since Tuesday.
Stupid Trial Number Six.
By Saturday, I told myself that maybe this is the season when I learn to live with a constant panic attack going on, because there was no reason for it to have not loosened it's grip, at least not a little bit.
Sunday morning came and I dragged myself to church.
As I got ready, I realized that I hadn't been in a while.
There had been 2 conferences, we'd had Comicon and another event that was on a Sunday, we'd had traveling and I'd been sick one week and the one time I did get to church since September, I had a child have a meltdown and I spent 3 hours in the car of the church parking lot while they cried and screamed. (Oh yeah, that still happens with big kids sometimes.)
I walked in and I knew if anybody even looked at me, I was going to lose it and I shouldn't be there.
I was not in any sort of state to be around people.
I sat near the front, because if you start to bawl for no reason in Relief Society, if you're not in the back row, be in the front--then only the teacher will really see you, and you can scoot out of there as everyone goes up to tell her she did a good job before she can get to you and ask you what is wrong.
The opening hymn started: Hymn 129
Where Can I turn for Peace?
I tried to tighten my face, to think of something else, but the tears started right from the start: