Trapped

These next, few posts are in honour of Mental Health Awareness. We are in this together.

This is my story.

I used to panic over the slightest thing. I’d think of the worst case scenario for any situation, and somehow convince myself that it would become a reality. It was hard to be at peace, when it felt like my mind was always in pieces. I was constantly living in fear. Constantly afraid. Constantly anxious. My mind was a warzone.

As I began reminiscing on my childhood, I vividly remember waiting up late for my dad to get home from ‘hanging out with the boys.’ I sat there, afraid. What exactly was I afraid of? What ifs. What if his car ran off the road? What if he didn’t make it home? What if he fell asleep on the journey? There I was, thinking of the worst possible scenario that could occur. As I continued reflecting, I couldn’t help but wonder why I was so afraid of my dad driving home? Wanting to get to the bottom of this, I decided to stop writing and call him. I asked if his car ever ran off the road, to which he mentioned it wasn’t his car, but his brother’s bus. Although no one died, they had to use a rope to pull the people out of the ditch. Hearing my father explain that night’s events, it all started to make sense. That one incident left me frightened as a little girl, and from that time on, I’d always wait up and look out the window until my dad reached home safely. I didn’t want to sleep until I knew he was home. Little did I know, that behaviour would follow me to my adult years.

Fast forward to several years later, I found myself doing the same thing whenever my husband was out late, or on his way home from work. I’d anxiously sit, and wait for him to arrive. My thoughts ran wild, as I began thinking of the worst case scenario. What if he got into an accident? What if something happened and he can’t get in touch with me? I sat there, feeling trapped and helpless. This type of behaviour went on for many years in our marriage, and there were occasions when my husband came home to find me in tears or upset. He couldn’t understand why I was worrying or why I thought the worst when he was late. This went on for several years, and created conflict within our marriage. What’s going on with me? I thought to myself. I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t know what. I wanted to change, but where do I start? Who do I turn to? I was trapped. My behaviour started causing rifts in my family, as I was often accused of trying to control them due to my anxious thoughts. That wasn’t the case, but how could I explain what was happening on the inside when I didn’t know myself? I just wanted it all to end.

On another occasion, I had just completed my yearly physical. A few days later, the office called, stating they wanted to discuss my test results. Discuss my test results? I started to panic. My palms began to sweat. What could they possibly want to discuss? When I arrived, my doctor mentioned that my cells were abnormal, and she was sending me to see a specialist. Abnormal? What did that mean? Was I going to die? As I drove to the appointment, my heart was racing. I remember asking God to help me, as I placed the news in His hands. The Lord assured me everything would be alright, but still I was anxious. At the end of my visit, the specialist said nothing was wrong with my cells. Thank God! I let out a sigh of relief. All that panicking for nothing!

As I look back, had I known then what I know now, I would’ve handled many situations differently. It took years to get to a place where I didn’t become overwhelmed with anxiety or think of worst case scenarios. But just when I thought I had a handle on things, this happened…

To be continued.........