I've been writing a while now, it seems. (See all my various weights and hair-styling attempts in the pics, LOL). We have a lot of new friends here, so I wanted to share again about why I started writing over the next few posts. If you've heard it before, or you're only interested in the fun book deals, you can always skip to the bottom of this page. I won't care one bit!
Twenty-seven years ago, a car ran a red light and crashed into the vehicle I was a passenger in.
I was pregnant with my daughter. Time seemed to move in slow motion as I watched the car careening toward us. I kept looking at the light, thinking: It’s green, it’s green, they’re going to stop. My head was turned to watch as the other car came closer to impact. I saw the other driver’s head turned. He was talking to his passenger. I felt our car speed up as thankfully my elderly father somehow noticed the car and pressed the gas. (I believe that was a miracle.) If not, the accident would’ve have been much worse.
The other car never pressed the brakes and crashed into the back door and trunk of our car. I was in front passenger seat, my mother was on the passenger side back seat. Thank the Lord.
We landed an inch away from a telephone pole in the yard of a fire station.
I left in an ambulance, due to neck pain, but my fear was for my unborn child.
She’s twenty seven now and fine, but what I didn’t know would stay with me beside some aggravating neck problems after that wreck …. was anxiety.
I began feeling tremendous anxiety in vehicles. And eventually began having panic attacks on the interstate while driving, which was odd because my wreck wasn’t on an interstate. But somehow the wreck triggered something in my brain that had to do with the fight or flight mode.
This was an acute stress response.
I’d heard of panic attacks on a news show and thought, that’s silly. Just do whatever it is, and go on with life. But that judgement (like so many I’ve made) came back to bite me.
This issue that I thought was silly became a problem I would deal with for the rest of my life. So far.
I’m a person who tends to be open. I am what I am. This is it. I’m open about the problem. I joke with my friends about the fact that if we’re going somewhere requiring us to drive on the interstate, we can take my car, but I’m not going to be the one to drive.
Because I’ve shared about my anxiety issue, over the years I’ve met a lot of people who confided that they too had panic attacks, or suffered from depression, bipolar, or some other disorder.
What I found that hurt my heart almost worse was that, not only did these people suffer from some disorder that in and of itself was miserable, they also suffered from shame because of it. Embarrassment. The feeling that no one would understand. That people would think, like I used to, they should just get over it. People like me before I had suffered my own first panic attack.
So I had a crazy idea. (Probably crazy idea number eight-million-five-hundred-two.)
I wanted to write a story that showed no matter what our weakness or problem or disorder, we are all still useful in God’s kingdom, in our families, and in our community. We can be a part of doing good things even while we are still suffering.
Sometimes we just have to accept ourselves and look outside of our issue that’s plaguing us. Look outside and see how we can be a good friend, a good family member, a listening ear, a volunteer— do a job that we can do. And know that God loves us.
I'll let that be part one of how I started to write.
As always, if you have a prayer request, you can simply reply to this email.
And for the book fun!
I joined this Christian Book Giveaway with other Christian authors. (Note: I haven't read all of these books.)
Christian eBook & Paperback Giveaway!(2) Winners of eBook "Gift Baskets of ALL ebooks pictured!
(31+) Winners of individual ebooks or bonus paperbacks (randomly selected)
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Under the Southern Sun
Janet W. Ferguson