Bitter Fruit

I’ve been carrying anxiety like a mantle inherited from my forefathers lately. It’s crushing at times. When I try to talk about it with friends or family, I’m often just met with questions about its origin. Here’s the thing: sometimes, it just hits me like some emotional IED completely out of nowhere. Sure, some triggers and events likely contribute to the emotional rollercoasters, but in many cases, I wake up in a panic and stay in that fight or flight for hours at a time.

I’m not writing this to bum you out. I intend to find common ground and perhaps show that we are all struggling with something. Maybe I’m writing this to prove to myself that I’m not alone in how I feel. It’s also worth noting that these feelings are just that, feelings. It takes focus and discipline to work through these low points. Sometimes, all it takes is just having an outlet to release the pressure valve.

My friends, who possess more faith than I can muster in those moments of crippling doubt, will say that I need to pray and lean on my relationship with Christ when things get low. I can’t argue with that rationale, but often, that is the last thing I want to do in those moments. Others will say I need to go for a hike, commune with nature, and let the awe of creation wash over me. That works to center me, but the problem is that when I’m spiraling, the last thing I want to do is leave the discomfort of my house—the irony.

I’m fascinated with the story of Adam and Eve. There is a richness and depth in that allegory that I’ve yet to grasp completely. We all have heard how humanity was deceived by a serpent in the Garden of Eden. Our forebearers consumed forbidden fruit, and our world was forever changed. I want to break that down a bit, so bear with me.

The tree in question was the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. It was located in the absolute center of the garden. It was something Adam and Eve surely saw every day. Notice that they had full rights to consume from the Tree of Life. There was no death in the garden before that fateful encounter with a crafty serpent.

Once the fruit was consumed, Adam and Eve were awakened to the knowledge of good and evil. Considering their world before this moment had no evil, this was a cause for alarm. They had the panic attack of all panic attacks and hid from God. They knew what they’d just done was wrong, and now their newfound knowledge of their nakedness made them cover themselves and hide.

When I’m spiraling in my anxiety attacks and feeling stressed, I have to remember that I, too, likely consumed a bitter fruit. When you dwell on all the variables of the knowledge of good and evil, it’s easy to lose sight of the blessings around you. Usually, some rejection, insecurity, or weakness leads me down this rabbit hole of doubt and doom. I hide from the goodness and retreat to darker places. It’s almost as if that fallen nature is pre-programmed into us now.

The best part of that story is that despite the shortcomings of the first couple of Eden, God still loved them enough to pursue them. God made proper coverings for their nakedness, concealing their shame. He does the same for us. There is hope even at the bottom of a downward spiral. Grab ahold of that age-old promise and know that we won’t be forsaken—no matter how we feel.

This is where the discipline of it all comes into play. Just because we feel a certain way doesn’t mean it’s true. Consider the fruit you are consuming. Is it helping or hurting your mental health? It’s not easy to shift our mindset away from despair and focus on something higher, but if we can stop hiding, God will find us where we are and cover us with His grace.