Fear is a Liar

I’m pretty sure anxiety will eventually be the death of me. I have always worried over things that I shouldn’t worry over, and being a perfectionist, that doesn’t help either. Nothing can be good enough and nothing will be good enough. I’m also a planner. I plan out almost every conversation in my head, what I could have said or what I should say. The whole ‘wanting to be prepared for everything in life’ is impossible, especially with my lifestyle. The military is something that I have no control over. At. All. When we are told where to go next, how can I plan for that?

Not too long ago, I was registering at a new school in our latest “home” of Miami. I was already overwhelmed with so much. New house, new neighbors, new soccer team. New…Not something I’m good at. When I was registering for my classes, I was told that there would not be an orientation. Normally, when I go to orientation, I would walk my schedule about a hundred times, making sure to note bathrooms and every twist and turn of every hall. But not this time. I am not given the chance for that. As embarrassing as it is, I could feel my walls closing in and panic starting to rise. Every anxiety and fear comes to the surface and I actually want to cry. How could I have planned for this? How can I plan for the first day of school when I have no idea where I am going in a school with over 3,000 kids? Fortunately, God already knows my heart, and I was given the opportunity to walk around by myself when I had to go in the Friday before school to get an ID made. There is still uncertainty but at least I know I have a general sense of direction.

Anxiety has always been apart of my life. It is torture. I can’t do anything without assessing a situation or playing out scenarios. When I was in fourth grade, my dad deployed to Afghanistan. Every night I would crawl into my mom’s bed. I had thought I was afraid of ghosts; a story some 10 year old told me at a sleepover. Now, I think I was scared for my dad, what could happen to him. We tried medications, oils, anything, but every night I was in my mom’s bed. Until the night my dad came home. That night, I slept soundly.

It is ironic that the life I was given is a sort that includes so much change, something I struggle with so much. Sure, I mean, I try to make it look easy. “It will be an adventure!” I would say to people, gritting my teeth and forcing a smile. Nope. Not my kind of adventure. But what kind of person would I be without the military? I would probably struggle with change more than I do now. It’s allowed me to deal with adversity; figuring it out. I can go into a new place and own it. Go into a new soccer team and own it. Is it easy? Never is. But I do it. Before I go out into the world meeting people and starting life over, I feel like crying. I take a deep breath, squeeze my eyes shut, then go and put a smile on my face because it will be worth it. It has to be worth it.

It’s what I needed. It’s forced me to do things that I really don’t want to do. Doing things unplanned, unknown, uncertain is most definitely out of my beautiful, prison-like comfort zone. But guess what? I grew from it. Everyday my comfort zone boundaries enlarge and expand. God gives what is needed. His master plan is bigger than what problem I am facing in front of me at the given moment. He calms my worries and fears because I know He has it under control. He has it under control. He has it under control. I have to tell myself this. The first day of school, I’m going to be okay. I have to be okay. He will give me strength and courage and it’s all just going to be okay.

School starts on Monday and I am scared out of my mind. Sure, I’ve started a new school before, but something about this feels different. It’s high school. I’m going to be a sophomore. Before the move to Miami, I had been promised four years. Just four years at the same school. Was that too much to ask? I had this vision that by my senior year, I would know everything about the school, know everyone, have friends. Lesson learned, don’t believe promises from the military. I had allowed myself to do that, and it was a mistake. When my mom first told my brothers and me about the Miami move back in February, I felt cold fear run over me. I was thinking, “This was not how this was supposed to go.” I couldn’t even bear thinking about the possibility of moving away from Niceville High. I had worked so hard to make friends and really build a reputation, as small and little as it was, I was proud. Everything was worked out. (Pathetic, I know.) There are much worse things that could happen in life. Regardless, fear is fear. And I was scared. As I saw on Snapchat all of the videos and pictures of my friends back in Niceville going to school, I couldn’t help but feel jealous and frustrated. That was supposed to be me. It would be so easy. So easy. It’s not like I was necessarily happy at that school, but I was comfortable. And sometimes comfort seems very similar to happiness. However, comfort and fear are temporary. I know this because this will be the fourth different school I will be going to in the past four years. Every year, it’s hard, but it gets easier. Every year there is a struggle to start life over, but it gets easier. It’s exhausting, but again, it gets easier. I can’t help but believe that working through the fear will make me who I am supposed to be. It’s a part of me. I will sacrifice my short-term happiness for His long-term plan. It’s the only way. I trust Him.

“Fear, he is a liar. He will take your breath. Stop you in your steps.” One of my favorite songs by Zach Williams. I listened to that song on the move to Miami. The image above is a picture that I had put on my Snapchat story when I was about 30 minutes away from a new life. I had felt the Holy Spirit inside of me when this song came on in the car, and I had to share, whether or not people knew what was going on in my life. Fear. He lies. It’s perfectly normal to have fear, but it’s not true. God wouldn’t bring you somewhere without a plan. He knows it, we just don’t. It gives me strength to know that the fearfulness isn’t from God, but Satan and that it’s not real. It’s a lie.

“Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me” (Psalm 23:4). I have walked through dark times, times of worry, grief, and fear. Everyone has. The only thing that gives me hope is that my God is there. He is with me. This is his plan, in His hands, and He has it under control. Fear lies. Strength is real. Hope is real. Positivity is real. And courage is real. God. Is. Real.

Keep it real,

Meghan Dunn