Sunday Evening, I spent it with my sweet guy.
Our dates have turned into spontaneous events, rather than being planned. Since neither of us have normal schedules, with Daniel working nights and me nannying, it’s nice to have “meet in the middle” times.
On Sunday evening, our date started out with listening to music, talking deeply, and then out of the blue, it happened. What started off as a beautiful sweet evening, turned into a nightmare as I was consumed with panic.
It was my first flash back/ panic attack in four years. Four Freaking Years. I could feel it coming before it even happened, and I realized I had about 5 seconds to…too late. Before I realized it, my brain had self destructed, with memories I thought I had laid to rest. To my furious surprise, the memories were awoken, like a starving bear, shaken awake mid-hibernation.
I looked at Daniel and fell apart. Crying and pushing him away, then pulling him close, then pushing him away. Between gasping for air and floods of hot tears streaming down my face, I could see his worry but I couldn’t help him. All I wanted to do was save him from me, and I couldn’t.
I curled up in my bed, and tried to hold in the tears, failing miserably and wishing I was dead. Every emotion from the day of my flashback was now very much alive and present. I felt like the little 18 year old me again. Vulnerable, open, exposed.
It was as if my mind was a record player with cinematic abilities. I was forced to hear and feel everything that I didn’t want to ever hear or feel again. Daniel had faded into the background and honestly, I pretty much forgot he was in the room with me. I covered my eyes and cried.
A few weeks prior, my friend suggested I see a counselor, soon after her husband suggested the same. Then my doctor suggested a psychologist. Maybe it’s fear, but as soon as I start looking for a therapist on my computer, my body shut down and tenses up. I’ve spent the last almost 7 years learning how to survive, how to not need ANY help from anybody. I am afraid to let anyone fully see me, heart fully exposed, resting on a table for all the world to see.
Through the darkness I heard Daniel whisper, “how can I help?” I bit down on my lip hard, realizing that I didn’t know what I needed at all. I didn’t know what could help, I didn’t know what to say. So I cried. And when I was done crying, I began to breathe.
breathe in, breathe out. breathe in, breathe out.
Breathe. I know that’s what they tell you to do in “those” movies. You know the ones where someone is having a epic meltdown and everyone says “just breeeatthheee” and the panicking person looks like they want to stab everyone who keeps saying “just breaaatttheee.” But, it worked.
So, I sat and breathed with the ache and the pain that once more decided to rear it’s ugly head. I sat and breathed with in pain that chilled my bones and caused every bone, muscle, ligament and tendon to ache. Each breath went through me, leaving me feeling hollow, like the summer winds that sing through caves. Breathing ached. Breathing hurt. And in that moment, I felt more alone than I had in such a long time. But, I didn’t run.
I sat there, with the pain that knew me so well. I sat with the tears that I had desperately wanted to cry for years. And I sat with myself, who I’ve always hated more than any other being. All of the good, all of the bad. I breathed it all in, then I let it all go.