Overcome

Overcome

It’s a word you’d find in the ‘Christian dictionary.’ /əʊvəˈkʌm/ Playing Christian bingo? You want this word on your board. It’s basic Christianese. It’s going through adversity and coming out victorious. It’s aunties and uncles giving us their testimonies at the New Year’s Eve crossover service; paying no regard to the thirty seconds they’ve been assigned, blissfully oblivious to the hints that their time’s up. *Cue the Oscars music.* But can we blame them? There’s a lot to say about God’s goodness.

So. You’ve finally overcome that thing. 

That difficult situation, that habitual transgression, that downright annoying affliction has found its way out of your life.

Onlookers behold you with admiration at your triumph. And, as far as you’re concerned, you’re passed it.  ‘That thing’ is gone for good. Dealt with. You never have to face it again. Right? That’s kind of what ‘overcome’ means… right?

‘It’s okay to talk about it’

It’s no secret that there’s a stigma around mental health. There’s something about society that resists coming into contact with it. Until recently, I wasn’t even sure if the church recognised or knew how to deal with it. We seem to think that ‘mental health’ is this distant concept that only applies to a certain group of people; those with the most obvious outward manifestations of their problems.  

How do you define health? The World Health Organisation defines it as “a state of complete physical, mental and social well-being and not merely the absence of disease or infirmity.” 

Not having a mental health disorder does not equate to good mental health. 

It’s far from a mutually exclusive ‘healthy’ or ‘not healthy.’ There are levels to health, and mental health is not exempt. The ‘mental’ aspect of health is nothing more than our degree of psychological and emotional well-being. It’s not only relevant to individuals with a diagnosis – I don’t have one, and chances are neither do you.

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Anyone with a mind can run into difficulties with their psychological and emotional well-being at any point. It’s really no different to the physical body. You catch a cold, get the runs, or fracture your elbow. In the same way, you experience stress, get burnt out, or maybe even go through an episode of anxiety or depression. And guess what? It’s okay to talk about it. In fact, it’s essential to talk about it.

But for some strange reason, we don’t want to talk about how important psychological and emotional well-being is. 

We only talk about the things that are good for our mental health as an after-thought. Eat your 5-a-day, drink more water and exercise because it’s good for your body… and it just might help your mind while you’re at it.” 

So, what happens when you grow up in a world where no one talks about this stuff, then you suddenly find your emotional well-being under siege?

‘Something has changed on your UCAS’

When I was around 16, I became very aware of mental health stigma and wanted to make some sort of difference. Anyone remember doing the EPQ (Extended Project Qualification) in sixth form? I did mine on mental health in film. I made people watch A Beautiful Mind (2001) and assessed their understanding of schizophrenia before and after. No doubt, most people had thought it was “split personality” (which, just to be clear, it isn’t!) But it was really cool to see how the film educated them and helped them unlearn some stereotypes. I probably watched and studied it 1294 times myself. I discovered a passion beyond my love for film; for everything mental health. 

I knew that I wanted a career that would involve this in some way, and ended up looking into options like counselling and psychiatry. And so began the process of applying to medical school, and saying goodbye to my childhood dream of being a singing astronaut-author-teacher.

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Voluntary work here, work experience there, and an infinite number of personal statement drafts (including at least three ‘Final Final’ Drafts) later… I click ‘Submit’ and eagerly await those “Something has changed on your UCAS” e-mails. Until finally – after what feels like an age – the first one comes through:

“Unsuccessful.” 

*Insert blinking gif.*

‘Okay, we move. It’s fineeee. Yeah, okay, so that was the specific exact university that we wanted but it’s alright, it’s just a minor setback. We’ve still got three others to hear from, and to be honest, we only need to get into one. We got this, girl.’

“Unsuccessful.”

“Unsuccessful.”

 

 

 

“Unsuccessful.”

Well, darn.

 

 

After a little pity party, a period of denial when I decided to become a lawyer, an involuntary gap year (when I got saved), and the support of a few real ones (shout out to my personal secretary a.k.a my mother, and my secondary school careers adviser)… I re-applied. And yep, you guessed it, I got in. I GOT IN!!!!!!! I will never ever forget that first acceptance e-mail, nor will I forget exactly how it felt to see the word “Unconditional” on that screen.

Roll on first year.

“It’s going to be the best year of your life!” proclaimed everyone I ever knew.

‘Anti-clockwise’

It’s September 2013. Moving in Day, to be precise. I’ve just about managed to squeeze myself into the back of the car and the 2.5-hour drive is underway. I couldn’t be more excited, but a part of me is already missing the gap-year-life I’d grown to love.

“WELCOME TO NORWICH  – A FINE CITY.”

We pull up to the university campus and park on the green outside Colman House, Flat 39. We receive a warm greeting from a colony of rabbits – who, apparently, run the show around here. (Seriously, no-one knows where they came from but they’re EVERYWHERE).

I stare into my empty room which is soon to be filled with my hoarded belongings. ‘Okay, this is decent. It’s a bit weird having to call somewhere completely unfamiliar home… but that’s to be expected. We’ll get used to it.’ 

Most of my things are unpacked now, so my parents are leaving. ‘Wow, okay, they’re leaving.’ I’m sitting on my new bed in my new room. My new room which still feels empty somehow.

 

I’m crying.

 

‘Look. It’s literally the FIRST day. Of course you’re going to be emotional, it’s okay. You’re going to miss home a bit. It’ll be fine, we’re going to settle in and everything will be great.’

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Fresher’s Week is more exhausting and uncomfortable than exciting. I don’t drink and I’m finding it hard to relate to this lifestyle that’s apparently synonymous with uni. Did I choose the wrong one? Or is it the same everywhere? I miss home more than I thought I would, and not for the reasons I thought I would. I’m irritated because I keep forgetting that I have to turn the key anti-clockwise to open my door instead of clockwise. I miss being used to things.

‘The strong friend’

A few weeks in and I’m starting to get the hang of it. The little things that stress me out are becoming more manageable, but it’s still an overall struggle. And I’m still crying. 

Every day.  

I’d never thought of myself as much of a worrier, but it’s as if all of these subtle changes to everyday life are somehow making me vulnerable to intrusive, anxious thoughts.

First, it’s about my place at medical school. ‘It turns out I haven’t had all the vaccinations I need. I’m going to get kicked out of medical school, after I worked so hard to get here. My family and friends are going to be so disappointed.’ 

Then, it’s about anything and everything. I’m doing a LOT of catastrophising. It’s always the worst case scenario that seems the most realistic. I need my mum. I call her every day telling her all the things I’m worried about. She’s a hero, but the reassurance only lasts until another worry crops up.

Until I can’t shake the belief that someone I love is ill or in trouble.

Until I have to rationalise with myself that just because someone hasn’t picked up their phone, it doesn’t mean that they’ve died.

Until I have to periodically check everyone’s ‘last seen’ on WhatsApp to make sure they’re still alive.

Until I can’t stop myself from physically shaking.

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I still manage to go out, make friends, go to my lectures, smile, laugh – trying to be the happy, positive person that everyone thinks I am. I’ve always been the ‘strong friend’ after all and I have to keep that up. 

I continue to call my mum in tears every day for a good few months. I’m frustrated at myself for how much I’m struggling, so I put myself down. I tell her that I’m ugly (in minute detail) amongst other things. She remains prayerful and patient, sending me encouraging sermons and songs.

Make no mistake! None of this is affecting my grades. Despite everything, I’m on top of my work because I have to have at least one good thing going for me. I’m completely unable to see anything else good in myself, but at least I know that I can perform well academically. I have to keep up a perfect record and I absolutely must get distinctions in everything. And for the most part, I do.

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‘I’m a Christian – and I mean really born again now – why am I dealing with these things?’ 

I’m doing church in my room because I can’t find anywhere that feels right. I’m not spending as much time with God as I know I should, because I don’t feel worthy.  But once I realise that He may actually be able to help me, I reluctantly start the uncomfortable process of handing my baggage over to Him, sheepishly allowing him to begin to heal me from the inside. 

By the end of first year, I’m doing so much better. I’m happy, even. I can see that things can get better. I’m surrounded by new and old friends, family, and go on to have an amazing 3-month summer. I’m feeling more like myself than I have in a long time. I’m – dare I say it – excited about second year! A second chance to get university right. Yes. I’m finally out of that dark place. I have overcome.

 

 

Roll on second year.

‘Don’t be silly’

It’s second year and everything’s going great. New house, new church, new mindset. This is good. I’m happy. 

I’m happy. 

Then suddenly. 

I’m not happy. 

What??? What’s happening?? I don’t understand? I thought I was passed this?! I’m disappointed. I’m angry.

The anxiety is back with a vengeance.

‘You’re going to fail this year.’ 

An immovable belief. Always present.

No amount of “don’t be silly” is cutting it. 

It’s literally the night before an exam and I’m wide awake, trembling. By morning I’ve not slept, not even a wink. I kid you not – I’m physically holding my eyes open in this exam.

‘Please, God. If you would just let me SCRAPE a pass this year, I would be so eternally grateful.’

Fast forward to results day. It would be fair to say that I haven’t ‘just scraped’ a pass. I’m at my friend’s house, and I start laughing out loud as I explain everything. Relief. This is a turning point. The devil is a loser.

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For the rest of medical school, things are pretty good. I’m getting closer to God. I’m surrounded by great people. I still have moments when I feel so low I can’t get out of bed – but these moments are few and far between.

Passing finals and graduating? One of the best seasons of my life. Leaving Norwich is bittersweet. I’m leaving behind people I love and saying goodbye to a place of treasured memories. But I’m also hoping to leave behind the darkness which had muddied my time there.

‘Is that a lump?’

The thought of starting my first year of work is actually more exciting than daunting. I’m finally going to be doing what I’d trained so long to do. I start work, and it’s fine – in fact, I love it. I’m learning so much every day and at an exponential rate (nothing like being thrown in at the deep end). 

I’m good at my job.

After a few months, I start to notice something that feels too familiar for my liking. I find myself becoming overly self-critical again. I’m needing constant reassurance that I’m doing well – even though, on paper, I’m excelling. When I’m not getting that reassurance, I’m feeling depressed. One negative thought triggers another until they snowball. For some reason, it always seems to end up with ‘you’ll never find love.’

Then, something completely new. ‘Health anxiety? Where did you come from?’ When I think about it, I can identify a few triggers – including more than one tragic death in an otherwise healthy twenty-something-year-old. I become hyper-aware of my body, convinced that I have a life-threatening illness. I’m constantly examining myself. I can’t quote a number of times a day. 

‘Is that a lump?’ 

Heart sink moments. I’d never really worried about my health before. The health of my loved ones, absolutely. But never my own. This doesn’t feel like the light-hearted HCP-thinking-they-have-every-ailment-they-learn-about phenomenon.

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It’s my birthday and I’m celebrating –  twice. In true me-style, I’m doing the most. All-black jumpsuit, full-glam face-beat, neat little low bun, chopping lobster at The Shard.

You might look at this photo and see a girl who’s “living her best life.” I look at this photo and see a girl who’s losing weight, waking up in a panic every night, genuinely and irrevocably terrified that she’s going to die. She’s thinking of her family and what this will do to them, how unfair it is, of the husband and kids she had wanted in the future.

As usual, I’m functioning absolutely fine, doing well at work, and keeping my relationships as healthy as I can. No one would have a clue, unless I told them. Not. a. clue.

It’s not until months pass –  and I find that I’m still alive – that I realise that maybe I was wrong. How exhausting

But there’s one thing I don’t understand. I thought I’d dealt with anxiety already. Why does it keep coming back? What happened to overcoming?

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And… exhale. That was a lot.

‘I have overcome the world’

So… where am I now, as I’m writing this?

I’m so much better. No, really. I can’t state it enough. I really, really, really can’t state it enough. I couldn’t begin to explain all the things that have brought me to this point in one post, which is why I started a whole darn blog. But ultimately, Jesus saved my life. I’m going to take my time, and piece by piece, share with you my process of healing. Because, you know what? Healing didn’t happen overnight like I thought it would, and it’s still happening every day.

The mind is a battlefield. The enemy of our soul is at war for our peace. There’s a battle, but it’s a battle that I’ve learnt I don’t have to fight. Fighting was exhausting and futile for me. I don’t have to struggle anymore. I. feel. so. LIGHT! It’s God’s battle – and trust me – He’s strong enough (2 Chronicles 20:15, Psalm 24:8). He’s taught me to take everything inside me, release it into song, and watch Him do the heavy-duty stuff. It’s soooo easy for Him. Having said this, faith without works is dead and there are certainly things I have had to do to help myself. 

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How long are we going to act like we have to have it all together once we’re saved? 

Does having a hard time show a lack of faith? And worse yet, with something we’ve told ourselves we’ve ‘already overcome?’ 

I still, at times, deal with hurtful thoughts about myself, feeling low, and anxiety. So this word – “overcome” – where does it fit in?

“I have told you all this so that you may have peace in me. Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world.” – John 16:33.

Jesus is preparing His disciples for the reality that they’re about to witness the brutal and undignified killing of their leader. The one they walked and talked with every day, who taught them everything they knew, the one they loved. And not only that, but once it happened, they were going to be dispersed and persecuted for the sake of the Gospel.

And what does He tell them? 

“I have overcome the world.” 

The war between death and life, darkness and light, sin and righteousness – He’s already won. The human mind can’t conceive the idea that the work on the cross was finished – because we still suffer. But here’s the point. The trials and sorrows are still here. And – contrary to popular belief – the trials and sorrows we’ve come through once can turn up again. I’ve experienced this first-hand, but I can still confidently say that I have overcome. 

I have overcome… because He has overcome.

“For whatever is born of God overcomes the world. And this is the victory that has overcome the world – our faith. Who is he who overcomes the world, but he who believes that Jesus is the Son of God?” – 1 John 5: 4-5

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This post has covered a lot. My aim has been to set out the context for the topics I’m hoping we can explore together, against the backdrop of some of my personal experiences. I’m excited to use this blog to really break down the issues highlighted in this brief (lol) overview of my journey. Future posts will delve into subjects such as anxiety in more detail, including the difference between anxiety as an emotion and anxiety disorders.

Whoever you are, whatever you believe – if you’re struggling with your mental health in any way, please don’t allow stigma to stop you getting help if you need it. You deserve to get better. There are so many ways you can access support, whether it’s for something relatively mild or if you’re struggling to cope:

  • Talk to a trusted friend or family member
  • Make an appointment with your GP
  • Refer yourself for counselling
  • Call Samaritans, a free 24/7 helpline on 116 123
  • For urgent help, you can call NHS 111 or attend your local Emergency Department (A&E)

We all have mental health. Let’s take care of it, together.

As always, lots and lots of love,

Xtine

12 thoughts on “Overcome”

  1. The experiences are so relatable and they’re written about beautifully! Can’t wait for more 🙂

  2. Xtine. I quite like this version of your name. I’ve always known you as Christine. This blog really chronicles and simply shares deeply and frankly about a topic that has always been close to my heart.
    It’s so engaging and I look forward to reading more. Statistically, however good you believe your mental health is, at any point in life trials and challenges will make you anxious. It’s the resilience you build that helps you bounce back, of which you have bay loads. Your ability to write so well, and your faith in God is a testament to that.
    Keep up the good works. Auntie P😘🤗

    1. Thank you so much for your words Auntie, they mean the world, excited to share more with you 😘 xx

  3. I applaud your openness! Life is tough and as someone who has been into burnout territory at least once (probably 2-3 times if I’m honest) it takes guts to share what lies behind the smile and confident persona. Thank you!

    1. Thank you, it’s really refreshing to hear that. I’m hoping with this project to encourage honesty and owning our feelings and struggles! Glad to hear that some people can relate in some way 🙂

  4. Excellently put together. You took me back to memory lane and I can’t agree with you more. Keep it up my princess.

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