My Journey from Isolated Anxiety to Meaningful Community

I grew up with a younger brother, one year and two weeks younger, to be exact. We were together all the time with similar friends and after-school activities. We bickered and fought, battling for our place in the family and in our world — until the first time we nearly lost him.

My brother was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes in middle school. I went from arguing and bickering with him to worrying incessantly about him. In a matter of hours and days, I quickly learned the tactical requirements of treating a person with diabetes — filling a syringe, giving a shot, testing blood sugar and understanding dietary needs. These were just the top of the list.

What took years to learn was faith and trust in my Lord. I became very aware of the small behavioral nuances of my brother and everyone around me. Watching for the small signs that something was wrong. Ready to act in an emergency. This added responsibility as the older sister compounded my natural inclination to worry and unveiled lurking, crippling anxiety.

On a summer morning, I rested in my east-facing room, bright and warm from the early daylight. I woke to the sound of the tub water running and knew I had about 10 minutes until my brother was done with the shower. I turned over, and my adolescent sleep quickly washed over me. I awoke 15 minutes later, and the tub water was still running. A tinge of wonder and a matter-of-fact lecture on water wastage had me at the bathroom door, knocking. And knocking and knocking. No response. I called his name. Still no response. We were teenagers, so, of course, the door was locked. Thankful for the cheap locks, I was able to jiggle the handle and, within seconds, barreled through the door to see my brother passed out on the floor, unconscious. I quickly covered him and ran to dial 9-1-1 from our landline.

I was particularly glad to live about 10 blocks from the fire station, as the paramedics were on-site in a matter of minutes. I relayed to them the entire situation, including his stats, disease history and the timing of activities this morning. It was a blur. My brother was soon upright, sitting at the kitchen table, a shock of sweet fluid in his system reviving what was likely a sub-45 point blood sugar. He was better — speaking but groggy. The paramedics left, and I called my mom at work. “Thank you for looking out for your brother, Melissa.”

Each summer, we went on a mission trip with my small youth group. Typically, it was service to the local community coupled with overnight stays at nearby churches. Girls and boys naturally had divided sleeping quarters, and that often left me nervously falling asleep at night. My anxious behavior was validated when I awoke to sirens and flashing lights. I was quickly up, looking for my brother. “Your brother has had a seizure but is better now,” I was told. My heart sank, my stomach ached and my breathing rapid. I failed to look out for him.

Diabetes management in the midst of puberty is extremely challenging. My brother experienced this the hard way. He experienced long periods of success and then long periods of challenge. All the while, I was watching for behaviors and signs that he was not well.

Fast forward to college. We are five hours apart, and his diabetes management has been successful. His confidence was up, and his guard was down. His sports team returned from an off-campus tournament late at night. He woke up groggy, not aware his blood sugar had tanked. All his teammates scattered to go home, and he was alone in the stadium parking lot, waking to a body not equipped for activity. He needed help but didn’t have the cognitive ability to seek care.

Later, the paramedics and police learned he had crawled a long distance to the stadium, lit up in the night. Handprints and blood smears were on the windows of the building, presumably to get the attention of someone in the building. A man doing his janitorial duties heard my brother’s cries for help and called 9-1-1. This man was in the right place at the right time and truly saved his life. The paramedics got contact information and the story from the janitor, then took my brother to the hospital. He was admitted and had fallen into a diabetic coma. The call came to me late at night, and I quickly packed and traveled north. Stomach sick and gasping for air, I panicked as I made my way to my brother.

Fast forward again. My brother is fully recovered and back to his studies and activities in college. My mother picks up the mail at home and is struck by a familiar notecard. The notecard she carefully wrote to the man who found my brother that fateful night at the stadium. It was stamped clearly: return to sender, address unknown, person unknown. Person unknown — how could this be? I knew, and she knew.

This was an act of the Lord, sending an angel in his time of need. In the midst of constant worry, this was the Lord clearly saying to my family that he is watching over my brother. For us to clearly see that we can care for my brother but that the Lord is responsible for him; we must trust and have faith in that truth.

My life is marked by several abrupt changes, behaviors or incidents that startled me, engaged my fear and drove anxious and unhealthy thoughts. I was wired to anticipate what could go wrong and watch for signs of trouble. The experiences with my brother are just one example, though a complex one!

As a child, I was told to repeat the Lord’s prayer over and over again when challenging thoughts kept me from falling asleep. As a teen, I retreated to my room often with a stomachache. I could not bear the pressure of big moments like prom, SATs and graduation. Too many things could go wrong, and there were too many people to observe and anticipate action. As a college student, panic attacks became a routine — hyperventilating with tingling hands, feet and face. Stomachaches drove me away from the dining hall, plunging my weight to unhealthy levels. In my first office job, I was alone after hours one night, in such a poor state that I kneeled on the floor, face down, crying for the Lord to rescue me from my racing, anxious thoughts. Finally, he did.

I called to the Lord in distress;

the Lord answered me

and put me in a spacious place.

The Lord is for me; I will not be afraid.

What can a mere mortal do to me? Psalm 118:5-6 (CSB)

Much to my frustration, it was not an immediate fix but rather the start of a long process — one that I’ve worked through for the last 18 years. Psalm 118 spoke to me. So did Jeremiah 29:11. The Bible is full of passages and people that reminded me that my problems are not unique but a shared experience for the Lord to speak to them. I have also spoken to biblical counselors, traditional psychologists and social workers to learn techniques to strengthen my spirit and diminish the impact of my anxious thoughts. Taking this to the Lord, his Word and trusted individuals have made an impactful difference in my life.

Only recently have I openly shared my story. Fear of failure and appearing weak or incompetent kept my stories and experiences private from most people I know and many that I love. Sharing confidently and openly has given my anxious thoughts less power. Sharing when I’m not at my best instead of suppressing these feelings has freed me from the isolation of anxiety. Sharing has connected me with others who suffer similarly and has given me a community I didn’t know existed or was possible.

Opening up about my story has given me hope as I look toward the next 18 years and more of my journey.

Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good;

His faithful love endures forever.

Psalm 118:29 (CSB)

Melissa May, CFP®, is the associate director of insurance services at GuideStone®. She has served at GuideStone since 2006. Melissa has a Bachelor of Business Administration in economics and financial planning from Baylor University and a Master of Business Administration from Dallas Baptist University. In addition to serving members, Melissa enjoys reading, renovation projects and spending time with her husband and extended family in McKinney, Texas.

Good mental health plays an essential role in our overall well-being. For more wellness resources and solutions, we invite you to visit GuideStone.org/MentalHealth.