Category: Anxiety

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With deep thanks to C.A. for her openness and example, this blog shares how I prayed on the morning of 13.11.24.

Why wasn’t I buried like a stillborn child, like a baby who never lives to see the light? (Job 3:16; NLT).

Lord, you know that my mother has been my lifelong persecutor. You understand that her death some years ago made no difference at all to my mental health. She lives on in my mind, and in my poor body’s response to every anxiety-creating trigger, however small. You grasp that I internalised her voice and her behaviour towards me from birth onwards.

You understand how the emotional consequences of her judgement, criticism, rage, violent destructiveness, domination and coercive control continue to torment me. You know all about the post-traumatic shock disorder caused by her abuse. Nothing about my years of anxiety, fear, panic attacks, agoraphobia, perfectionism, dread and depression is hidden from you.

Lord, I have always felt worthless, because I was treated as if I were worthless. Whatever I did, said, felt and believed was seen as worthless. Whatever I wanted, or was good at, or achieved, was seen as worthless. The only things my mother valued about me were those she herself did, or enjoyed.

All this didn’t apply just to me, of course. My mother always made it abundantly clear how much she despised everyone who was not like herself, especially those who somehow managed to stand up her domination. She loathed them most of all. The only people she “liked” were those who admired and served her. They could do no wrong.

My mother often said that she knew me better than I knew myself. Even my thoughts were not private or safe, because I fully believed she could read my mind. She was always ready to interrogate, disapprove, criticise, threaten, and verbally attack me whenever I said or did anything she did not like. I lived in fear, and grew up fully aware that I did not want to be alive. You already know all about this, Lord, because you really do know everything about me.

Now I’m 72 years old. I’ve always tried so hard to do my best, despite the constant stress of living with mental illness. This has involved a lot of suffering, and taken a lot of courage. My mental health has improved to some extent, though depression continues to be a chronic problem. Meanwhile, self-esteem is non-existent, and whenever my PTSD is re-triggered, anxiety and dread still make life unbearable for many months at a stretch.

You know that I have always felt worthless, and that this is because my mother treated me as if I were worthless. I experienced myself as worthless, and have always felt as if others would much prefer it if I were not around.

Lord Jesus, after all this time, is it still possible for me to recover from the damage my mother did to me? You once said that anything is possible if a person believes in you. You know I believe in you. Please heal my trauma, and release me from the consequences of my mother’s toxic behaviour, I beg you. And please do the same for all those throughout the world who have been damaged by coercive and abusive relationships of every kind.

I ask all this through your own dear name. Amen.

You can ask for anything in my name, and I will do it (John 14:13; NLT).

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References

You can do anything and no one can stop you (Job 42:2; NLT).

“Have mercy on us and help us, if you can.” “What do you mean, ‘If I can’?” Jesus asked. “Anything is possible if a person believes” (Mark 9:22-3; NLT).

O LORD, you have examined my heart and know everything about me. You know when I sit down or stand up. You know my thoughts even when I’m far away. You see me when I travel and when I rest at home. You know everything I do. You know what I am going to say even before I say it, LORD. You go before me and follow me. You place your hand of blessing on my head. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too great for me to understand! (Psalm 139:1-6; NLT).

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