Unrecognizable Me
2013
Monty smiled and showed me this picture the other night. I found it really hard to smile back. Visions of an angry, controlling woman surfaced. A woman who never felt worthy or brave. I was just trying to be a good mom, with an obedient child, a pretty wife who had it all together with her big house and nice car. Trying to fit in somewhere, but feeling alone and different and scared. I was so scared functioning day to day was hard so I started taking antidepressants along with Xanex- for those times when the fear was so strong a panic attack would come out of nowhere.
Like the time I was in Hawaii with friends and my whole world started to shake. I felt as if my whole body was shaking, but my hands would show me I was still- just my insides were shaking. A look in the mirror showed my pupils were dilated like saucers; I looked as crazy as I was feeling. The worst part was the feeling I was going to die if I didn't get back home, right away. It was as real as anything I've every felt. There was no brushing it off as a silly thought. No, I was going to die. I was going to die and never see Austin again and Austin was never going to see me again. He would grow up without a mom if I did not get the fuck out of Hawaii.
I called Monty and asked if he could get me home asap. He asked me what was wrong and I was barely able to get out, "I don't know." He was so scared at my being so scared he bought me the last plane ticket on the next flight out. The women I were with stared at me blankly. "What do you mean you feel like you're going to die?" They didn't understand and looked at me like I had lost my mind. Honestly, I thought the same thing.
I made it home and slept in Austin's bed with him for the next three months. I was so scared. I didn't know what had just happened. It felt so irrationally real. I got another prescription after that for Lunesta so I could sleep if the Xanex didn't do the job. I was a bundle of fear and stress and anxiety.
When my friends would ask why I came home and I told them I had a panic attack and thought I was going to die. "What do you mean you thought you were going to die?" I couldn't explain it because it made no sense. It was so comforting when I would get a nod from someone acknowledging they understood because they had been there too.
Things slowly started to change for me after I took Austin out of school where he was miserable. That was my first step off the path road of going along with what is expected of me. It was empowering to say, "Hey I know this is what everybody does, but it's not working for us so we're not doing it any more." It was empowering. I was beginning to see I wasn't powerless.
I didn't stop with taking Austin out of school though. I kept stepping off the "do what's expected of you and don't question it" path. Some of the changes have come in the way I look on the outside, too. I know when I do things like dread my hair or get tattoos it challenges people who still see me as that woman in the picture. I've been asked, "How far are you going to take this look?" It stings a little. The more I come into myself the less it bothers me.
I remember what it was like to be that woman who looked to have it all and it wasn't worth it. Because I didn't. I was losing it, big time.
Like the time I was in Hawaii with friends and my whole world started to shake. I felt as if my whole body was shaking, but my hands would show me I was still- just my insides were shaking. A look in the mirror showed my pupils were dilated like saucers; I looked as crazy as I was feeling. The worst part was the feeling I was going to die if I didn't get back home, right away. It was as real as anything I've every felt. There was no brushing it off as a silly thought. No, I was going to die. I was going to die and never see Austin again and Austin was never going to see me again. He would grow up without a mom if I did not get the fuck out of Hawaii.
I called Monty and asked if he could get me home asap. He asked me what was wrong and I was barely able to get out, "I don't know." He was so scared at my being so scared he bought me the last plane ticket on the next flight out. The women I were with stared at me blankly. "What do you mean you feel like you're going to die?" They didn't understand and looked at me like I had lost my mind. Honestly, I thought the same thing.
I made it home and slept in Austin's bed with him for the next three months. I was so scared. I didn't know what had just happened. It felt so irrationally real. I got another prescription after that for Lunesta so I could sleep if the Xanex didn't do the job. I was a bundle of fear and stress and anxiety.
When my friends would ask why I came home and I told them I had a panic attack and thought I was going to die. "What do you mean you thought you were going to die?" I couldn't explain it because it made no sense. It was so comforting when I would get a nod from someone acknowledging they understood because they had been there too.
Things slowly started to change for me after I took Austin out of school where he was miserable. That was my first step off the path road of going along with what is expected of me. It was empowering to say, "Hey I know this is what everybody does, but it's not working for us so we're not doing it any more." It was empowering. I was beginning to see I wasn't powerless.
I didn't stop with taking Austin out of school though. I kept stepping off the "do what's expected of you and don't question it" path. Some of the changes have come in the way I look on the outside, too. I know when I do things like dread my hair or get tattoos it challenges people who still see me as that woman in the picture. I've been asked, "How far are you going to take this look?" It stings a little. The more I come into myself the less it bothers me.
I remember what it was like to be that woman who looked to have it all and it wasn't worth it. Because I didn't. I was losing it, big time.
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