Anxiety has been on my radar again.....
I need to talk about it again...........
I have been having more attacks lately, and I have been trying to keep them a secret. I felt like I didn't want to burden my friends, I felt like I should be "over it", it's embarrassing to be the crying mom who can't keep her shit together, I'm in denial...so many reasons. I am going to share my latest one with you, because I can't be the only one.
I was on a school field trip of all places. It was my first time on a school bus after overcoming the trauma of being in a school bus accident as a child. My first time without the use of pharmaceuticals to me get through. I hadn't even put that much thought into it until I walked down the aisle of the bus. Someone said there wasn't enough seats and someone might have to stand. I started to feel it then. The tingle through my body as my brain released chemicals that went coursing through me. I sat down wide eyed. The first ten minutes of the ride I was able to talk myself off the ledge. 'We got this, we are not going to crash, this is ok, you are safe.' It was all ok until the bus started making a couple of big bumpy turns. Turn after turn. My heart started to pound and the world got a little smaller around me. Every happy scream heard as a loud warning. Heard as a screech of terror. My whole body got sweaty. My ears tingled. My chest got heavy as I struggled for a deep breath. I held back tears and screams. I just wanted to make them stop and I could walk. I wanted off. I felt paralyzed. I smothered every essential oil I had on me and it just made me panic more. It took forever to get there but the bus eventually stopped with one hard lurch forward. As we walked off the bus an eerie release went through my body. It reminded me of the moment I walked off the bus after the accident that changed my life. (almost 20 years ago!) Too many emotions are running through my brain. I need to cry. Oh my god its coming out and there is nothing I can do about it. Hold it together Rachel, there must be a bathroom right around the corner. You cant cry here! What would you even say? Quick, try to think of something funny...
I finally made it to the safety of the bathroom and let every held back tear fly. I ugly cried. Like really ugly. I felt so ashamed. I am damaged goods for sure. I wish I was a normal mom who could handle a field trip without brining baggage and drama. Can I please get over it and stop being like this? I was worried that someone would notice I was crying and I would have had to explain. I washed my face, fixed my hair and tried to pull myself together. And then I started thinking about it. I am sure, or at least I hope, that other moms have had these moments. Not even moms, but everyone. I'm sure that we have all ugly cried in a public washroom at one point in our lives, some maybe more than others, but we have all been there. We have all had these moments of anxiety that we are embarrassed about and don't want people to know about. But that is why we are feeling so alone. So here I am, letting you know that you are not alone and lets talk about it. We can't keep these things to ourselves.
I have also learned that its never really gone. When you go through a traumatic event or were abused as a child, there are always triggers. You can be "over" something and still have that one trigger that sets you off. Know your triggers. For me, I can't go on school busses, I cant ride in anything fast unless it has a 5star safety rating and a seatbelt, I cant let my kids do something on their own without talking to myself and repeating my mantra fifty million times. I cant yell at my kids without my moms abuse haunting me. All I feel is the pain I felt at a small child when I look at them crying. So I guess what I'm trying to say is, its ok to cry and freak out sometimes. Its ok to avoid doing things that are going to trigger you, and its ok to be a hot mess. We are all struggling, we are all beautifully flawed, and we are all going to be ok.
Thank you for listening and thank you for your support. <3
No comments:
Post a Comment