My Why

I have said on this blog before that I no longer believe that everything happens for a reason.  Some of you may have heard me articulate this as “I don’t believe that God gives us the bad stuff.”  I just can’t wrap my head around a world where the difficult path that I have been down was chosen for me, that I have suffered so much because I am uniquely strong enough to bear it.  I think we have a lot more choice than that, and sometimes shit just happens.  And it’s not fair, and it’s not because I deserved it, or because I needed it to grow as a person.  I am just someone who for a long time couldn’t catch a break.  And I went through a long string of crazy health problems and am just now coming out the other side of it.

What I do believe is that people who are dealt a rough hand have the option to bet on it anyway.  We don’t always have the ability to change the circumstances that come into our lives, but we can choose to keep going, to get out of bed every day (or most days) and hope for the best.  And if we are lucky, we can find a way to turn those things into something great.  And sometimes God, or The Universe, or Completely Random Chance (whatever you want to name it that makes sense to you) lets things line up in a way that all that crap makes sense and has a purpose and can be turned into something beautiful.

This is more philosophical than I usually get here, but I need to explain to everyone why all of the sudden I have become (even more of) a crazy person and decided to take on a huge project when I am not quite fully functional myself.  I started a charity.  Like yesterday.  With no real plan in place, just flying by the seat of my yoga pants and praying that it turns out ok.

I have actually been thinking about starting this since I first got sick.  Because I always knew how fortunate I was that with the help of our families we could afford to hire a nanny to get me through the worst of it.  And I found Wonder J– as I have written before she has been amazing for our family.  I always knew that I could focus on taking care of myself and be there for my girls as much as possible, but have confidence that if I hit a wall and had to go lay down, or got dizzy, or was about to poop my pants (sorry for the TMI but we are talking colon removal here!) my girls were in good hands.   I can’t even begin to describe how much I needed this help, I am not exaggerating when I say I am not sure I could have gotten through the last few years without a nanny.  Cause stay at home mommies don’t get sick days.  Ever.  Not if you have a cold and not if you have cancer.

I never thought I would get so sick I couldn't even lift ONE baby!
I never thought I would get so sick I couldn’t even lift ONE baby!

Stay at home mommies of young kids don’t have disability insurance and most of us don’t have any sort of childcare set up.  Maybe a MDO or a couple of hours of babysitting here and there.  Not enough to go to seven doctor’s appointments a week.  Or be in the hospital for 20 days in a year.  Or go through invasive treatments and surgeries that leave you feeling like warmed-up death.  And if you can’t afford to hire help than at best you have tons of different people volunteering a few hours here and there, having to explain your kids schedule to every person that helps you, feeling guilty that there is no consistency in the kids lives, and at worst have to miss vital appointments or treatments because you can’t find someone to watch your kid with strep.  Who, by the way, you shouldn’t even be near because you have a severely compromised immune system.  Not a great situation, huh?

So when I heard that my friend Annie (who has two darling kids and not-so-cute colon cancer) was back in the hospital following surgical complications, and did not have and could not afford full time help to get her through the rest of her surgeries and chemo, I knew I HAD to do something.  See, a few years ago, I would have heard her story and thought, “Aww that sucks, she’s so nice, this is going to be really hard for her.”  But now I hear that story and say “NO!!! You can’t do this by yourself, if you can’t get help then I will get it for you.”  And then the real miracle happened.  Our previous nanny (who left only because she got a full time job, we loved her) texted me and said she was looking for a new family.  And I thought, “Hello, all I have to do is put these two together, raise a bunch of money, and I’m off.”  So Mommies In Need was born.

But can’t I just raise money for another charity that does this?  Nope.  If there is one, I couldn’t find it.  And my vision is very specific.  I want to not only fund the nannies for sick moms, but also provide them with someone who is vetted, background checked, and stamped with the SuperCrazy Mommy seal of approval (as in I have/would leave my own kids with them.)  Because when you are in pain is not the time to have to do interviews and reference checks and try to find the right person.  My long term goal is that if I get a call for a mommy who just got a diagnosis I can move fast and have a reliable nanny to her in a few days.

I know that there is a daunting amount of work ahead of me, I just opened the new bank account and am starting all the 501(c)(3) paperwork, and I actually do have “Grand Plans” for the future.  But already I am amazed at the people who have stepped forward and said they think this is important and want to be a part of it.   I am feeling grateful that everything came together at the right time for me to get off my ass and actually start this thing.  So is it crazy?  Yes.  Is it Super Crazy? Yes!  But I am doing this because I feel like I finally found the good that I can pull out of all the shit I have been through.  This non-profit is my silver lining, my reason for all my difficulties.  I actually have an answer now to the question that plagued me everytime I got hit with another diagnosis or huge crisis.

In Mommies In Need I found my “Why?”

 

*If this blog has ever spoken to you, or made you laugh, or given your day a little lift, please consider donating to MommiesInNeed.  If you can’t donate, please check out the fundraising page and share it on any media platform you can.  Plus as you will see on the campaign page, if you donate $100 or more I’ll Be Your Best Friend! You can also like me on Facebook for more updates on this project.

 

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A Moment of Gratitude

I rant a little (or a lot) on this blog.  I talk about the crazy things that are going on in my life and how difficult it has been to deal with it all.  I have talked about my anxiety, my cancer, my miscarriage, my disordered eating, and my surgeries, in addition to the general insanity of raising twin toddlers.  If you want to get caught up quickly you can visit A Brief Timeline of Crazy.  And while I have just begun mining the things I want to vent about and get off my chest, I feel the need to pause for a minute and say that despite all of that I never forget that I have also been amazingly blessed.  I can’t say anymore that I believe that “everything happens for a reason,” but I do believe that if you try, you can take the bad that happens to you and make something beautiful out of it.  For me that something is a new appreciation of the good things in my life, as well as the ability to be there for others who are going through a difficult time.  So here is a list of 10 things for which I will be eternally grateful:

  1. Flopsy and Curly- more than anything else they have been my reason for getting out of bed and my motivation to keep going no matter how crappy I felt.  They are awesome and hilarious and they love tutus, purple, and sparkly things (just like mommy!)  They were the worst sleeping babies in the history of the world, but I am incredibly thankful that they are relatively even-tempered toddlers.  They play really well with each other about 75% of the time, which is pretty good for 2 1/2 and every single day they do something that stops me in my tracks because it is so cute, or sweet, or smart, or funny and I think, “I am the luckiest person in the world that I get to spend my days with these two amazing little people.”  Like when Curly put her hand on my cheek and looked into my eyes and said, “You’re my sweet girl.”  Or when Curly was getting frustrated with putting on her own shoes and Flopsy said, “I’ll help you” and then put Curly’s shoes on for her.  Or yesterday, when they were playing on the swings and taking turns sitting on each other’s lap and swinging together.  I seriously almost had a stroke from cuteness.
  2. Sebastian- My husband is incredible.  Truly, it makes me mad sometimes because I can’t even complain about him when I get together with a bunch of other moms.  He helps around the house, gets up in the middle of the night with the kids when I’m not feeling well, is a loving and devoted dad, encourages me to take “me” time or go out with friends when I can, and managed to pick up all the extra work I could not do this past year when I was really sick.    He also has to put up with much more of my crazy than anyone else and somehow still loves me.  The most annoying thing about him is that he is almost always right.  Please don’t tell him I said that!
  3. My Family- By this I mean my parents, siblings, grandparents, and also Sebastian’s family who have been wonderful through all of our turmoil.  I seriously don’t know how we would have survived the past few years without the family support we have had.  They have gathered around us like a giant protective hugging net that has kept us from falling- yes a hugging net, I don’t know what that is either but I’m sticking with it.
  4. My Friends- Even those who I have not talked to on a regular basis in the past years have come out of the woodwork to support me.  Especially since I started this blog and actually let people in to the realities of what was going on with my life, I have been showered with love from my friends.
  5. Wonder J (Our Nanny)- I have a whole post dedicated to her, but knowing that my kids are in such good hands has taken a ton of mommy guilt off my shoulders!
  6. Dr. Awesome (My Therapist)- she helps me keep the crazy at bay and gives me Xanax.  ‘Nuff Said.
  7. That I Had Twins- sure, having 2 babies at once was front loaded with difficulty, but when I got the scary news that my uterus had been removed to save my life, I was devastated, but not nearly as much as I would have been if I hadn’t had two darling babies to go home to.  I know that my family is perfect and complete.  Plus, I don’t get a period anymore- can’t say that I miss that!
  8. The Body Scan that Found my Cancer- it was horrible timing, but I do realize how lucky I am that a random scan before surgery found that lump and I was able to have it removed long before I ever showed symptoms.  Otherwise, that little ball of yuck could have kept growing for a long time and put me in a much worse situation.
  9. Our Financial Security- I am immensely grateful that we had good insurance and the ability to get through these years without the crippling debt that chronic illness and multiple surgeries can bring to a family.  Sure, I would much rather have taken an awesome vacation than spend 20 days in the hospital this year, but we didn’t have to choose between paying for my medicines and paying for food.  I do realize how very lucky I am for that.
  10. This Blog- I only go to therapy once a week, but I can write here whenever I want!  It has given me a sense of purpose, a way to express myself, and an outlet for the whirling dervish of thoughts that are constantly going in my head.  It has allowed me to be honest in a way I have never been before.  I am very good at putting up a front of being fine when I am actually far from it. It has been so helpful and freeing to me to have a place to let down my guard, to show the mess I have going on inside, and to advertise to the world how NOT perfect I am.

I started thinking that I needed to write this because I have several friends in crisis right now, and I constantly get people saying to me, “Well, I guess I shouldn’t complain.  It’s not as bad as what you’ve been through.”  I would like to state right now for the record- that is total BS.  If you are dealing with pain, difficulty, or trouble in your life, that is yours and you have every right to be upset about it.  A dear friend of mine who has been through cancer, the loss of her mom, and many other struggles said something to me that I will never forget.  I was saying essentially the same thing to her, that I shouldn’t complain because it could be much worse.  And she said, “If that helps you right now, then use it.  If it doesn’t, don’t!”  I love that thought.  Sometimes you need to wallow in your grief or pain or difficulty to get through it.  And sometimes you need to look at the big picture of the world and be amazed that in the scheme of things your life is actually pretty good.

Right now I feel the need to show my gratitude to the universe that let me get through this horrible time in my life with myself missing a few organs and a little bit of sanity, but mostly intact.  For the first time in a very long time I feel hope.  And that is so beautiful.  I want to say to those out there who are in the midst of a dip in your life when you feel like things will never get better… I have been there.  Like really there, in a pit, thinking that I would never be able to climb out.  And while I am not at the end of my journey of healing (so don’t be surprised when I have ranting posts later about Ulcerative Colitis, or surgeries, or other craziness) I can finally see that glimmer that things are going to be OK.  It is crazy how that snuck up on me.  I didn’t notice I was doing so much better until one day I realized that I could breathe a little easier, that I wasn’t in a constant state of tension waiting for the next of like 40,000 shoes to drop.  And for that spark of hope I am completely awash in gratitude.  Thank you to everyone reading, commenting on, and messaging me about this blog.  You have all helped me to find that spark, thanks for being part of my therapy.  But don’t worry Dr. Awesome, I still need to come to you for my Xanax!

How can I not be grateful for getting to see this?!
How can I not be grateful for getting to see this?!

Being Brave Isn’t Pretending You’re Fine

“Gosh, it’s been so long!  How are you?”  I said to a friend I accidentally butt-dialed while trying to call someone else.

“Good…Well…OK… We were really excited because we were pregnant with twins, but then I had a miscarriage.”

And I paused.  Honestly, I was kind of shocked that she just led with that.  I mean, it had been over a year since we last spoke, and we aren’t even close friends.  That’s a pretty personal statement to just put out there.

Why though?  Why isn’t it OK to just tell the truth about how you’re feeling.  If you just lost a baby why should you have to pretend like everything is fine?  It’s not.  And what a brave thing to do.  We often hear the phrase “putting on a brave face” which means covering up your true feelings and going on with your life.  But in reality, what takes courage is to acknowledge those feelings, to let people in.  That is really scary.  Because when you let people in to how you are really feeling, to the struggles in your life, it makes you vulnerable.  It opens you up to people saying stupid, hurtful things, or getting super awkward, or just ignoring your comment and pretending like you didn’t say anything- which can be even more painful.

And miscarriage… well, we really don’t talk about that.  I remember years ago a friend of mine was pregnant and I hadn’t seen her in a while.  When I asked her how she was she said, “Well it’s been a rough summer… I was pregnant, then I wasn’t, and now I am pregnant again.”  I remember freezing, thinking, “Oh wow, she just told me she had a miscarriage.” But I was too scared to acknowledge it- ’cause what do you say?  So I just kind of pretended I didn’t really notice the comment and we skipped over it.  Yeah, I’m not very proud of that.

About 10-20% of known pregnancies end in miscarriage, that’s huge.  And yet, nobody talks about it, it is kind of a taboo subject in polite conversation.  If your mom or even your dog just died and someone asks how you are, it is perfectly acceptable to say you are feeling pretty lousy because of that loss and people will comfort you accordingly.  But announce that you just lost a baby and eerrk (my impression of a needle scratching across a record,) sometimes conversation just stops.  And if it is acknowledged, the platitudes come out.  “Oh, well at least you know you can get pregnant!”  “You’re young, you’ll have another one!” or my personal favorite, “Well, it probably meant that there was something wrong with the baby anyway.”  Right.  Because I would rather have my baby die than be born with a disability, is that what you are saying?

In case you haven’t guessed by now, I had a miscarriage myself.  I was only about 9 weeks along but I was devastated.  I have been through a lot (see A Brief Timeline of Crazy if you don’t believe me,) but losing the baby was one of the absolute worst things I have dealt with in my life.  Everyone’s experience is different, but I loved that baby fiercely from the moment I knew he/she exsisted.  My husband and I called it the Hufflepuff since we didn’t know if it was a boy or a girl and we talked about our plans for the baby all the time.  When I started spotting, I knew in my gut that the baby was gone, but I still made my husband leave on a business trip because some crazy part of me believed that if I asked him to stay home to go to the doctors appointment with me, my fears would prove to be true.  But sending him away didn’t help, I still got the horrible news at the ultrasound that the heartbeat was gone.  And then I had to make decisions about what to do, and suffer through a lot of pain and weeks of bleeding.  I won’t go into that now, but I remember how hard it was.  And most of all, how lonely I felt.

We have decided as a culture not to tell people we are pregnant until 12 weeks, since miscarriage is so common before that.  But that means that if you lose a baby, most people didn’t even know you were pregnant so how can they be invested in that little life?  My husband was wonderful to me at that time, but even he could not understand why it affected me so deeply and why I became so profoundly depressed afterwards.  We have funerals in part so that we do not have to mourn alone, because that is a huge weight to bear.  But most people don’t have funerals for miscarried babies, so that burden is not shared.

Friends and family turned out in droves to help me and send flowers or cards or lend a word of comfort after each of my surgeries, which was wonderful.  But my miscarriage was when I really needed the most support, and I have never felt more alone.  A huge part of that is because no one knew, and I “put on a brave face” for those who did.  I went back to work and just said I had been sick for a few days, but inside I wanted to scream, “How can you people not see that a part of me just died with the baby that was inside me?!”  I went around pretending I was fine, but I was far from it.  Eventually, Sebastian sat me down and said that he thought I needed to see someone and I found an amazing counselor to help me work through my depression.  A few months later, I got pregnant with the twins and was so happy and so very scared at the same time!

I have been talking a lot about #BraveOctober and being brave, whatever that means to you.  To me, today, it means finally speaking up about my loss.  Telling people that if you are hurting, the courageous thing to do is to let someone know.  Not to bottle it up inside and think that you are being “brave” by hiding yourself from the world.  Maybe being honest about your struggles might just let someone know that they are not quite as alone as they feel in whatever pain they are going through.

So I paused.  And then I said to her what I wish people would have said to me.  “I am so sorry for your loss.  Do you want to talk about it? I’m here for you.”

Brave October

Today, I faced a huge fear, conquered it, and feel like a superhero!  What did I do? I gave myself a B12 shot (the B12 might also be part of the reason I feel so good!)

If you have been reading this blog at all, you probably already know that I have been through a lot of medical stuff, some of which was extremely painful.  If this is your first time here, you can visit A Brief Timeline of Crazy to catch up. I get IV iron infusions and bloodwork every week and have had 5 major surgeries and several minor ones in the past few years, so rationally I shouldn’t have a problem with giving myself one little shot.  But, as my husband can attest, I am not confined by the bounds of rationality.

When other people give me shots or take my blood or cut me open, I don’t have to look!  My fear is of the sight of a needle going into skin, not the feel of it.  But today I needed to get my B12 shot (I have severe anemia and a combo of weekly B12 and IV iron is the only thing that keeps me upright) and no one was around to give it to me.  I really didn’t want yet another doctor visit for something so small and I have all the supplies at home.  So I put on my big girl yoga pants (well actually pulled them down, the shot went in my upper thigh) and gave myself the shot.  And I didn’t even take a Xanax before doing it.  And guess what?  I was ok!  I didn’t faint, or cry, or stab an artery or anything.  I gave myself the shot and then went about my day.

But I had a little extra pep in my step.  I faced that fear and I totally owned it!  So I started thinking… being brave and facing something that really frightened me gave me a burst of energy and confidence… maybe it could do the same thing for other people… Halloween is supposed to be scary… Halloween is in October…wouldn’t it be cool if I could get people to challenge themselves and do something that scares them in October, to be brave…I’ve been hearing that word everywhere lately…I could call it Brave October or Bravetober…Bravetober sounds ridiculous, Brave October is probably better…I can be all #BraveOctober everywhere…Wow, those people already have a huge blowup spider in their yard…Oh crap, tomorrow is the first day of October, how did that happen?…I should probably get started with this thing if I’m gonna do it…It’s awesome that my kids don’t like chocolate, I get to eat all their candy… I could really use a Milky Way right now…

That went on for quite awhile until got myself some candy and decided that I was going to take those random thoughts and use them to create #BraveOctober.

Here are the rules of the Brave October challenge.  This month, do something that scares you and then let the world know about it by posting about it on Facebook, YouTube, or Twitter- you can simply write about it or include pictures/video if you want!  Then challenge your friends to do the same and use the # BraveOctober. If you want to use this as a platform to raise money for your favorite charity, awesome! But the real point of Brave October is to get people to step out of their comfort zone and do something they have been holding back on because of fear.

Maybe it’s something like riding a roller coaster or petting a snake at the Zoo. Maybe it’s submitting a piece of poetry to a publisher or signing up for that open mike night you have always wanted to do. Maybe it’s sharing a personal story that you have kept to yourself and finally getting to talk about it so that weight doesn’t feel quite so heavy.  Maybe it is standing up for somebody when your first instinct is to walk away.  And sometimes, maybe being brave is just getting out of bed in the morning and facing the day.

Whatever it means to you, let’s start being brave. There is a lot to be afraid of in this world- I live in Dallas, we had our the nation’s first confirmed case of Ebola reported today at the hospital I go to 1-2 times a week!  While I can’t do anything about that, I can stop being afraid of doing some things that would be positive in my life.  Like deciding that I can take an exercise class even though without a doubt I would be the most out of shape person there. Or finally having the courage to leave the house with my kids in their big girl underwear and trust that even if it is a disaster I will live through it.

Let’s do this people.  Help me make #BraveOctober a thing!

It's almost Halloween, let's all be brave! #BraveOctober
It’s almost Halloween, let’s all be brave! #BraveOctober

The 5 BEST Things about Major Surgery

Today, a friend of mine is going in for surgery and it made me start to remember all of the things that I thought and worried about before each of my 5 major surgeries in the last couple of years (see A Brief Timeline of Crazy if you just went, “wait, WHAT?”)  I can go on and on about how scary and difficult and painful surgery is (wouldn’t that be a fun blog to read?!) but I realized that no one really talks about the good parts of having misbehaving organs ripped out.  So here it is…

The 5 BEST Things about having Major Surgery

  1. The Binge Watching- TV shows and movies on Netflix, Amazon On Demand, Hulu, etc. were practically designed for someone in the hospital or in recovery.  My suggestion is to pick a show that you have never seen before that is already 6 or 7 seasons in and then just marathon it.  Personal favs include Pretty Little Liars and Gossip Girl but I am really sophisticated and cultured like that, you may be more of a West Wing person and that’s cool too.  I wouldn’t recommend Lost though because with all the drugs in your system you will probably get really…well, I think you know where I’m going with that one! Which leads me to…
  2. The Drugs- I have a bizarrely high tolerance to pain meds, but even I got to a point when I started professing my love for the nursing staff giving me the drugs.  Apparently I kept telling my Dilaudid-wielding nurse, “I love you, do you know how wonderful you are?”  This got a little awkward for my husband who was standing there, especially since it was a male nurse!  If you are lucky you get a magic device- the pain pump (my favorite was filled with Dilaudid but Morphine is pretty good too.)  Don’t be a hero, you don’t get any points for not pushing that button, use this liberally and enjoy.
  3. The Love- Your friends and family will come out of the woodwork to shower you with cards, emails, texts, flowers, gifts, jewelry (ok, maybe not jewelry, but if you have a friend in surgery- please consider it.  Nothing says “Get Better Soon” like a pair of diamond studs!)
  4. The Help- Again, at no other time in your life will people be so ready and willing to help you.  Everyone says, “Let me know what I can do.”  Don’t make the mistake I did and just think that is an empty line.  Most people that say this truly do want to help (and if they don’t- too bad, they offered, if they didn’t mean it that’s on them!)  Seriously, let your loved ones know what they can do.  Here’s a list of possibilities- grocery shopping, dishes, pick up dry cleaning, make you food, buy you food, watch your kids, do your laundry, bring you magazines, get your prescriptions, or just come over and keep you company for awhile when you can’t leave the house and are going stir crazy.
  5. The Perspective- I think this is the biggest one.  If you survived a major surgery (or many surgeries) you will probably come out of it a little different.  You don’t know just how much you can live through until you go through it.  The worst of the pain, the hospital stay, and the recovery feel like forever.  But then one day, you wake up and realize that you are starting to get back to yourself again.  You think, how in the world did I get through that?!  And you start to understand that just maybe you are stronger than you ever gave yourself credit for.  Maybe you have a little more appreciation for the good things in your life.  Maybe you hold your loved ones a little tighter because you realize just how precious your life and health are.  Maybe you will one day be able to give support and compassion to someone going through a tough time in a whole different way because you get what it is like to be really down.  Maybe the whole process helps you realize just how many people love you and who your true friends are.  And maybe, just maybe, you have some killer new bling to go with your new look on life.

If you are about to go into a major surgery right now or know someone who is, remember that even the hardest things in life eventually pass.  Enjoy the downtime while you have it, I feel like I’m speaking in cliches here, but the world moves really fast most of the time.  I don’t really believe that everything happens for a reason.  But I do believe that things happen and you call on every bit of strength you have to deal with them, and that you can then choose to find something good that came out of it all.

I can’t say that I enjoyed any of my surgeries or sicknesses, but I can say that I truly appreciate all the love that people showered on me, the knowledge that I have more resilience than I ever dreamed of, and that I am overwhelmed in gratitude that I am alive, on the mend, and able to hold my husband and daughters every night.  Oh and Gossip Girl, I really enjoyed getting to watch that show in a continuous marathon- when you are on drugs and don’t take a break between episodes it is even more crazytown!

When recovering, you never have to get dressed!
When recovering, you never have to get dressed!

Poltergeist Panic Attack

The most terrifying tree in the world!!!
The most terrifying tree in the world!!!

Have you ever had a panic attack?  If not, then imagine being absolutely terrified- heart racing, palms sweating, breathing heavily, feeling certain that something terrible is going to happen and that you could die at any moment.  Then, imagine that there is nothing around you to be scared of, that you are just in your room on a regular day and that this feeling came out of nowhere.  Sounds fun, right?

Everyone I have talked to who suffers from extreme anxiety or panic attacks has different experiences, but the one thing that we all seem to have in common is that horrible feeling of dread, of …well, panic.  It’s something about adrenaline releasing into the body and producing a “fight or flight” response.  Basically, your body thinks that a bear or a dinosaur or something is chasing you, so every instinct you have is screaming at you to run away.  But when there’s nothing to run from it really screws with your head.

In the past few years I have been through a lot (this is kind of an understatement, see A Brief Timeline of Crazy if you need the CliffsNotes) but my first panic attack was one of the most frightening things I have ever experienced.

I was between surgeries and having a pretty good day, so my mom decided to take me out to lunch.  We were driving and I started feeling nauseous (which I now know can be a panic attack precursor for me.)  I thought I was just hungry and asked her to pull over to the first place she could find.  We stopped at a La Madeline, with it’s pseudo-French décor and soft music- not really the type of place you see in horror movies.  While we were waiting, I started to get this terrible sense of dread.  It’s hard to explain other than that all of the sudden I was sure that something horrible (like a terrorist attack, or earthquake, or Zombie apocalypse) would be going down soon at this Dallas strip mall and that we needed to get out NOW!

I communicated this to my mom and while she looked at me a bit funny, she humored me and we grabbed the food and hopped back in the car.  On the 5 minute ride home my heart was pounding, and I began thinking that I might be having a heart attack or stroke- cue the “stroke symptoms” Google.  I got in the house and ran to my room.  Then I looked out the window and saw a tree.  I looked again and it was moving (like probably because of the wind.)  I then realized that it looked like the tree that comes alive and grabs the kid in Poltergeist and I told my mom to quickly shut the curtains before it “got me.”

I think it was at this point that she started to realize there was something really strange going on and she encouraged me to take one of my Xanax and call my therapist.  No answer, so I left a message and continued to freak out.  I could still see the tree through the sheer curtain and it looked even more menacing. I soon came to the conclusion that there was a distinct possibility I was going to die, like in the next few minutes.

I would like to pause here and note that there was still a small rational part of my brain that was thinking that perhaps the tree was not really going to come to life and strangle me with its branches, but it didn’t stop the panic.  I kept leaping up like I wanted to run, realizing I didn’t know where to go, and lying back down.  It was about this time that Sebastian came home and relieved my mother of crazy-person watching duty.

He suggested that I breathe into a paper bag.   So I did- I breathed into a Whole Foods brown paper wine bag for like 5 minutes.  I did not feel any better, but eventually I just felt stupid.  Like I was in some unimaginative rom-com and the girl gets so nervous before the big date that she starts hyperventilating and her sassy (but not as attractive because she wears glasses) BFF gives her a bag to breathe into!

Eventually we got my doctor on the phone and she helped me identify what was going on. With a combination of a licensed professional talking me down and a few more Xanax, the terror eventually faded.  Leaving me feeling exhausted and ridiculous.

See, that’s the thing, I remember the whole series of events and what I was thinking.  In hindsight it seems absurd and even a little funny, (I was scared of a tree!) but at the time the feelings I was having were real.  I can totally understand how a lot of people with panic attacks go to the emergency room.  And I think there is a sort of stigma to that, “Oh, it was just a panic attack.”  Like the person overreacted and the whole thing was no big deal.  But if it happens to you, believe me, it is a huge deal.

That’s why I wanted to share my story, so that if you have never had a panic attack, maybe you will be able to be a little more understanding to a friend or family member who is suffering from anxiety.  Also, if you are someone who has gone through this, you are not alone.  I’ll get it when you say that the crowds in a subway set you off, or a certain fabric stripe made you dizzy and fearful.  But don’t call me if a tree in your yard ever comes to life…that shit is freaky!