I’m tired but, against my better judgment, I am staying up to write this.
The last few days have been traumatic.
It started in the middle of the night…those weird, transitional hours between Wednesday and Thursday. There was coughing. I felt my husband move out of bed and murmur. And then, a shaky scream for help.
I dashed out of bed, awake in a flash. I peeked into the bathroom…blood. Blood was everywhere.
Until recently, I did very little in my life just for me.
Don’t get me wrong…I am not the world’s most selfless person. I can be stubborn. I can pout. I can whine until I get my way.
But…I also seemed to lack the courage and the confidence to ever simply be me.
It started young–I took care of others. That was my role. I was the peacekeeper, the nurturer, the comforter. Continue reading
I’ve written over the last month that I am having a really hard time. I’ve been down…dark, and depressed. I’ve been fighting bouts of anxiety and nervousness, and stomach issues that are a result of all of it, but also make all the stress and nervousness worse.
I have been feeling trapped. And stuck. And hopeless. Continue reading
I sat up in bed, a curly, tow-headed little girl, peering through the darkness. A flashlight glared in my face–the police man glanced my way and walked on by. What was going on? Where were you?
I huddled in the corner, watching him smash things with a baseball bat. Screaming, begging him not to hit you, too. Grandma was coming–coming to take us away. I was terrified–where would you be? Were you coming, too?
I sat on his lap, squirming in pain. The lights were off, and huge dinosaurs were on the screen. He held me in place–I couldn’t get down. My objections were drowned out. Nobody was there to stop him. Continue reading
It’s a word I’ve thrown around a couple of times. An overwhelming wave of emotion. Shockingly, however, while I can feel and name this emotion, I have really never thought to examine its underlying cause.
I mean, where does my shame come from? Why do I feel it so heavily and so readily? Continue reading
…okay, from my title, we all know I tend to exaggerate.
School started again a little less than two weeks ago. I am entering my final year of my teacher prep program, and this semester means that I am required to be in class 4 nights a week until 9 pm. It is a full load of classes with a cohort group, and each class is compressed into a week to two weeks. So, it is a lot of deadlines, full days, and stress. Continue reading
I am not “cured” of anxiety–I have my ups and downs, and I probably always will. However, over the course of the last six months I have discovered some powerful things to help me deal and control my mood and stressors. Continue reading