2008, half a year after my grandfather's death, I went out to accompany my grandma to one of her lunch dates with friends. I was okay that morning, I even wore one of my highest heels. On our way to the restaurant, I was listening to my iPod, and thought, "What a great day! I'm wearing my new heels, and I'll be eating tons of free food!"
Well, halfway through lunch, a sudden heavy feeling hit me. There I was sitting with three 70+ year old women, talking about what they do to pass the time because their husbands were gone. My mind went haywire, with a gazillion of thoughts coming together. There were (are) so many that I can only remember this: I did not want to die. I do not want to die. Ever.
On our way home began my very bad habit (then) of calculating an estimate of a person's lifetime. have you ever seen the music video, where the time for a person's life hovers above his/her head? I forgot the title, but it was exactly like that.When I thought of my parents, my brothers, my cousins, and my friends...that's what happens. I was attending a short course on 3D designing then, and I almost got way behind because I would stare at the screen for the whole duration of class, feeling anxious, and nauseous of my thoughts. When classmates would talk to me, in my head pops, "So what are you going to do with your life? Will all of it matter? Will you matter when you die? I bet we'd just be the same."
So there, I had the worst case of anxiety, and it lasted until I bolted through my parents' bedroom door and poured my heart out. The only advice my dad gave me: "Will you be weak to let these feelings get to you? You better not because I do not have children who are crazy." And then mom: "I think you have to pray. A lot."
Well, I did. I really did fight for myself like hell. And I won, or at least I thought I did.
A year and a month after, I met a boy (now my husband), and everything was near perfection. Three months into the relationship, it came back. My worst enemy. I tried to fight it but that time, I lost. Big time! I was already working in a big government office, trying to please everyone. But most of the day I'd be crying in the bathroom. I thought my boyfriend (husband) would leave me because, there I was in true form, a nutcase.
But he stayed. He was always there for me through it all. My anxiety attacks and paranoid thoughts bought a ticket to stay. So there we were, paranoia, my boyfriend, and I. We were happy. Oh yes, we were. We even had a baby and got married.
Now that our daughter is a year and a half old, I still get those panic attacks and evil thoughts. But, the truth is...
One smile, one hug, one kiss from my daughter; plus the support and love of my husband, I am okay, and I know that even if I'm still dealing with this now I will always be okay.
No comments