Faith is something that I don’t have, or have little of. Faith required trust, and I have even less of that. It is evident that when I am anxious (most the time) I am having issues with faith and trust. Since I’m still fuzzy with my notion of a High Power, taking on the task of getting in touch with my faith and trust isn’t easy.
When I processed this with my therapist, it was blatantly obvious that my lack of trust/faith stems from my emotional uncertainty of babyhood. I was a fussy ass baby (from what I was told) and I knew that most times I had to pitch a fit in order to be heard/seen. I learned to depend on myself to get things done and the “myself” I grew to become is a reflection of the grown-ups around me.
Now, this isn’t a “poor me” post. No I’m merely naming a part of my past that wasn’t healthy, and i know that there were healthy aspects of my life too. My uncle is a sweet man who, when I was a child, acknowledged my interests and nurtured them. he saw me for who I was and approached me with compassion, acceptance, and kindness. My parents worked hard to make sure my basic needs (housing, food, utilities) were met. They sacrificed their lives for their family. When I acknowledge this, I start to feel bad about naming the unhealthy aspect of growing up. But reality is, both existed under the same roof and neither one cancels out the other.
So back to faith. When I start to feel my anxiety kick in I try to acknowledge that baby/child part of myself that is afraid, worried, and unsure. I ask, “What are you worried about?” and “What do you need?”. I have to be that compassionate parent to that part of myself. That compassionate parent is working with the skills I’m learning from compassionate people around me. What that compassionate parent doesn’t have is faith. But I think in time it will grow. It’s hard though as I am skeptical as hell.