Detonation...in 3...2...1

I wake up to screaming.  This isn’t unusual to me, but I see an orange glow in my window and I am not certain what it is. I crawl out of my bed and look out the window over my dresser.  My mom is standing in front of my dad cussing loudly as a pile of something burns on the side walk in front of our house.   I grab my pillow case off the floor and climb back in my bed praying that I get to stay in my bed tonight.  

The daylight breaks through my window and I wake up thankful that I wasn’t dragged from my bed and taken to anyone’s house for the night.  I look out my front window and see a black spot beside the sidewalk with some ashes and pieces of charred clothes.  I quietly open my door and sneak into the kitchen.  It is a Saturday and I know that I need to stay quiet.  Saturday mornings are uncertain.  Some mornings my mom will eventually get up and cook breakfast, some mornings my mom’s friends are passed out in various rooms of our house, and others there are people I don’t even know sleeping on our couch.  I sneak past my parent’s door and they are both sleeping soundly.  They must not be mad at each other anymore.  Good.  Make you some breakfast, turn the TV on low and watch cartoons.  Just be quiet and don’t wake anyone up in case they are still mad.  I watch my cartoons and hope my grandma calls to see if I want to come to her house.

If you asked me one thing I remember most about my childhood it would be uncertainty.  I was always so uncertain.  There were no bedtimes, no chores, no rational reasons for why you got in trouble or you didn’t.  You never knew what to do.  There was no rhyme or reason to life.  My stomach always stayed upset because I was in a constant state of anxiety trying to control a very uncontrollable environment.  Everything in life shapes you.  It shapes your mind and how you see and react to the world around you.  All of these things made me the person I am today.  All of the uncertainty of my early childhood would only be compounded by the death of my grandmother when I was in Jr. High, followed closely by the suicide of my favorite uncle; then the loss of my mother when I was 20.  

You see things that don’t normally happen to people…unthinkable, unimaginable, unexplainable things. They happened to me.  I endured abuse from before I can remember until I was in the 6^th grade.  I lost people that I loved and people that I had still had so many questions for by the age of 20.  These things created this neurotic, unsure, overachieving control freak typing this very blog post.  I was once asked by someone I knew if there was anything about the early years of my life I did like and the answer was certainly.  There were smiles and laughter.  There were times when all was calm and life was happy.  But you see the thing that makes even those good times bad is the uncertainty.  When would the other foot drop? When would the good stretch come to an end? When would the next person be taken? When would the next fight happen?  And the list goes on and on. 

So how do I get through all this?  How do I become a person that overcomes all these horrible things in order to live a normal life?  I guess the answer is you don’t completely.  My emotions and anxiety seem like a series of two steps forward and three steps back.  I pray constantly and most days I feel like I coast along very peaceful, then weeks like this week occur and  I feel like I have been steamrolled by Satan,  and he is looking back at me laughing because I thought I had defeated him.  The funny thing about Satan is that he likes to see you fall and fall hard.  He loves to see that hint of doubt…a very small space where he can wedge his way in between you and God.

I have been sick for a couple of weeks now.  I know (James)…I should have been to the doctor, but see I HATE to take medicine.  I’m very sensitive to its effects and adverse effects and the bottom line is…most of it makes me more anxious.  So the anxiety (I am able to keep at bay most days) is typically aggravated by medication.  Your brain is basically this big ole stew pot of chemicals and hormones.  Mine is a delicate recipe and does not take well to any tweaks in the ingredients.  So I finally gave in and let my friend help me get some OTC medicine in order to get my sinuses under control.  Due to this I have been over the top nervous all week! Tuesday I was certain Hannah’s prescription cough syrup was going to kill her because it had codeine in it.  It didn’t…it just made her very HYPER.  Friday I was certain I dropped her off at school to early and the doors were locked so some weirdo had kidnapped her.  My dear friend sent me a text of her alive and well after I text her in a panic. Thank you dear friend…you know who you are.  And finally the icing on the cake…my 5 panic attacks in one as I was sure she was kidnapped from Jack and Jill tonight at her cousins birthday party.  Nope!  She was stuck in the jumpy and couldn’t hear me calling her name.  If you can imagine an anxiety atomic bomb upon its detonation then you can imagine yours truly tonight. BOOM! 

I am still shaking slightly and my head is pounding as we get back in the minivan.  I am away from everyone I have already cried in front of at the party.  We head towards the restaurant we are going to and I have James stop and get me some medicine for my headache (sinus pressure + crying = horrendous pain!!!)  As I am waiting for him Hannah tells me she is sorry for scaring me and I burst into tears again.  I feel so stupid and angry with myself.  I feel sorry for her…that she has to have me for a mother.  I wish that she could have a normal mom that would just let her be a normal kid.  “Normal mothers” that let their kids run around public places unattended should be hauled off to DHS parent prison in my neurotic opinion.  James gets back in the car and he can tell I have been crying again.  I know. I’m crying…again!!! Run! Take your child and find a normal mom for her that will let her run around town without adult supervision! I am a NUT!!! UGGGG!!!

We end up coming home because I feel absolutely sick at this point.  I try to apologize to James and Hannah for crying but I start crying when I do this. James starts laughing, “Really?”  He says.  “Yes! I am crying because I am apologizing for crying! Shut up!”  He laughs a little longer.  “Baby do you just want to sit and cry it out for a little while?” he teases. I remind him what I complete nut I was when we met and we both agree on my progress over the years.   I laugh and Hannah giggles.  I feel better.  I don’t know why.  Because I have these emotional breakdowns less and less each year?  Yes. That does make me feel better to know in another 20 years or so I may be perfectly calm.  Part of the reason I feel better is because God gave me these two to make me laugh when I do flip out.  Also, because I have a loving family that understands I am little on the nervous side and they love me anyway.  These reasons and so many more do make me feel much better.

I guess my point in this blog is to let you all know that I’m not 100% ok all the time.  I want you all to understand the purpose of this blog was in part to give people hope.  Hope that despite the fact you may fail daily it is still worth getting up tomorrow to try again.  As long as you are being honest with yourself and really trying! 

 I pray for peace daily (and the ability to conquer my anxiety) and most days God sends it my way.  But life is so unpredictable.  Things are going to happen and you are going to stumble.  You are going to be the person you absolutely did not want to be when you woke up.  When you do this you are going to briefly get sad and overwhelmed…you may want to turn away from God and fall back on the worldly things that temporarily make you feel better.  For me that place is self-pity and anger.  You get pissed at the situation and the people who failed you…you get mad at the world.  But then in a minivan surrounded by love and laughter you exhale, you say a silent prayer seeking God’s forgiveness and his patience as you CHOOSE once again to forgive and move forward.  You know that tomorrow you can continue just as you are or you can give it to God and pray that you are stronger for this day of weakness! Never give up…on yourself or on God. 

I remember that God know the exact number of hairs on my pretty little neurotic head.  I remember that he pieced me together in my mothers womb.  I remember that he knows my strengths and weaknesses.  He knows exactly what I need and don't need....what I can withstand and what I cannot.  I remember that its okay to be me, as much as I may hate what I am at times,  my God loves me anyway (ALL the time)!