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Resigned

What is this new feeling I have lately? It seems to be a new flavor, a mixture of several. I’m feeling calmer, not exactly at peace, but not so turbulent either. The sadness is still there, a deep underlying sadness that I’m sure will always be there. I have less anger.  I have less ambition and determination, less fight in me. I think this is a good transformation, or if not good as I don’t like weighing in with good and bad, lets say a necessary transformation, though it feels odd.

I think perhaps my spirit is finally broken, tamed, like a wild horse, I have been broken. Even more, I’m the wild horse forced to live out its days on a carousel. carousel-1703273_1920.jpgI am resigned to live my new life, accepting the constraints of the saddle and bridle and staying within the limits set upon me. I’ve been trying to be free for far too long. I don’t need freedom to do good. There is much I can do from here and it will have to be enough. I can be grateful to keep moving, if only in circles.

I searched for words for this feeling and I read the synonyms for resigned, I feel this is exactly where I am right now. Look at this list…tame, agreeable, long-suffering, stoical, patient, tolerant, gentle, quiet, ready…I could describe how each of these words fits me.

resigned

A few days ago this feeling settled in and said hello. I’ll describe that day here, because it has taken me several days to say hello back.

I can’t rely on my memory any more. When smartphones first came out I ridiculed people for spending so much money on a device. Now I can’t live without mine, as it truly thinks for me, reminding me all day long about what I’m supposed to be doing. So I check it as usual and see kiddo has a baseball game. No problem. No other conflicts. I know I may have to drive him, so I plan my time so that I am rested.

When he gets home from school I look again and see it is an away game at a ballpark I am unfamiliar with..and I map it and see it will take nearly an hour to get there. I remain calm as I tell kiddo we have to leave very soon. He asks for his uniform. Crap. I forgot to wash it. All my checking on the game and calendar nothing jogged my memory for this detail. So I add “wash baseball uniform” to my calendar so I don’t forget again and he has to wear it dirty for this game, luckily he didn’t do much sliding it didn’t look terrible.

I throw away my feeling of failure, no time for that. I feel calm again. Kiddo needs a snack. Make him a sandwich to eat in the car, except I forgot to go shopping, used up the bread this morning. Crap. quickly slice some cheese and grab pretzels. That feeling in my stomach again, like I should be doing better, but I have to ignore that. I make coffee while he gets dressed.

Out in the car my phone wont let me get the address for the gps. We are already late. I can’t think clearly. I call hubby from the driveway for the address. I enter it the address and pull out while it it loading. But then I can’t see the screen on my phone. I hand the phone to kiddo and ask him to adjust the brightness, I had it turned way down and couldn’t see it in the sun. He didn’t know how. What? How does he not know this, its just just his kindle, but I have no time to feel irritated. At the next red light I adjust the phone myself and see the gps is still not loaded. I know I have to get on the highway but I have no idea where to go after that. Anxiety is rising. Breathe. Its okay. I pull over and really look at my phone. I notice the cellular data is turned off…oh yeah, I did that at his last game when I was playing a game on my phone and didn’t want to use data. Crap. That has been off for 3 days.

I turn data back on and my phone blows up with all the queued MMS texts that could not come through. Crap. All that missed info – yup, thats why I didn’t know his last practice was a different time, and so much from school, but no time now to feel stupid. GPS is loading finally so I get back on the road. I don’t look at the clock. We are late, I already know we are late, and the clock won’t change that and I don’t want to feel nervous while driving. Kiddo is chatting about his school day. I can barely understand him, my head is racing and I have to focus on driving, but I say “uh-huh” a few times.

We make it off the highway, and into these terrible, but beautiful, twisty turny hilly roads. I’m getting motion sick and driving slower than the speed limit. Crap. We are so late and I can’t even drive full speed. We go through forest lined roads, past green mucky ponds, further into the valley. We make it to the ballpark, and can’t find his team, there are several fields and games. We spot his uniform color and I see the closest parking lot is full, so I continue on. We got there. Sigh of relief. He grabs his gear and heads to the field. I stay in the car.

Why do I stay in the car? So many reasons, where to start.

  1. my limp. Okay so this place is full of steep hills and slippery gravel. I did not want to attempt that steep hill and the only other way that was not so steep was about a quarter mile away and through the grass fields, still difficult. Even with my walking stick and new knee brace, these distances look like miles and miles to me, it is just so difficult to walk across. And I feel stupid, like everyone must see me coming.
  2. neuro issues. It was hot out and no shady places to sit even if I did manage to get myself down there, so I stay in car with AC running, my meds make me dangerously heat intolerant on top of the struggles I have to self regulate due to nerve damage. Sitting in full sun also triggers migraines
  3. my limp and social issues. no places to sit at all, I would have to carry my own chair which would be very difficult on the already difficult terrain. If I had ever spoken to the other parents, yes I’m sure one of them would carry a chair for me, but then I feel like I would be stuck sitting with that person and forced to be social. I can barely manage my own life I don’t want to hear about theirs, it is too much, never knowing what people might share or ask me.
  4. anxiety. If I managed to get myself down there and find a place to sit, I didn’t see any place to be quiet. Some of his games I can put a chair at the end of the line of parents off by myself enough that I feel I have my own space. But here with so many games going on at once, cars and people constantly coming and going, There was no way to position myself safely, I’d be jumpy and startled the entire time, and I can’t do that – I have to drive back home
  5. mental fatigue. I can’t pay attention to the game. Sorry kiddo, I’m proud of you for working hard, but baseball is dreadfully boring and I have no clue what is happening even when I do try to focus it makes no sense and my mind wanders. I usually bring my camera when I sit near the game but in my car I can close my eyes, read a little, play a game on my phone. And they last for hours, too exhausting to pay attention that long to anything. So I try to watch for when its his turn at bat and a few key plays when I hear the crowd get excited, otherwise I reserve my energy for the return drive

Thats about it I think, though I think I jumbled them up a bit even though I tried to organize it in a nice numbered list, hope it makes sense.

I’m just trying to illustrate how this simple task of getting my kid to his game is not simple for me. I can barely do it. I try to be grateful that I can still do it, at least be useful and get him where he needs to be. But it is difficult to watch the other healthy parents, hooting and hollering, running down that gravel covered hill like its nothing, carrying chairs and coolers, sitting and chatting with their friends, they seem to really enjoy the experience. I don’t know this, of course. I’m only giving my observations and they seem to enjoy the game and the social time with the other parents. I’m not a part of that world. I live in a different one. Am I jealous of the other parents? In some ways, yes that is likely what I am feeling. Anger that my life is so difficult. But I can’t stay there long or it festers. Acknowledge and keep moving because life does not slow down for me.

My life is often surreal. Like I’m in slow motion or everyone else is on fast forward. They walk and talk and think faster than I can. I am no longer trying to keep up.

I am resigned.

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Opposite of Lonely

I don’t often feel lonely, not the way I hear others describe it. I looked it up in a dictionary and thesaurus, and curiously, could not find an opposite for lonely that makes sense to me.

Lonely is defined as the one of the most terrible things in the world: Sad because one has no friends or company, isolated, alone, lonesome, friendless, with no one to turn to, forsaken, abandoned, rejected, unloved, unwanted, outcast, deserted, uninhabited, unfrequented, unpopulated, desolate, isolated, remote, out of the way, secluded, off the beaten track/path, in the back of beyond, godforsaken; in

the middle of nowhere.

Opposite? Populous. Crowded.

I do have a longing for meaningful connections in my life. Love and acceptance from people you can trust. I have a deep, dark, pain, an emptiness much greater than loneliness, because I know it will never be filled. I’ve looked into the depths of this chasm, and it is seemingly bottomless. It seems I’m safe as long as I only glance at it, no jumping in.

For me, acquaintance people are nearly always a nuisance, a stressor. Hell even the current people in my life that are supposed to be loving, supportive, combat loneliness, like my husband and in-laws cause stress and conflict. My kids are the only people I enjoy time with, and even then after a bit , I still feel crowded, smothered, like I can’t think or breathe. When I am alone, I feel peaceful. When I am with others, the tolerance clock starts clicking and I have limited time before I bolt, hide, isolate myself and recover from the constant scrutiny, questions, confusion, misunderstandings, obligations, words…so many endless words attacking my system.

It wears me out to nod, smile, be polite, figure out how to respond, sense danger, protect myself. Talking is my least favorite activity. I’d rather go to the dentist than have to chitchat with some random person. Is it my turn to talk? What did they just say? Are they lying right now? What time is it? Is that a TV show they’re talking about? Is this something I’m supposed to know snd recall or are they telling me something new? Ugh. Too stressful

Add multiple people and this feeling is exponentially heightened, to being the opposite of lonely, I get a strong need to be alone, to escape.

I’m not heartless. I do wish all these people well. I just don’t want to hear about it, sorry. Most things people tell me I can’t do anything about and I feel uncomfortable having to express sympathy or advice. Most people I start diagnosing their personality disorders, recognize cognitive distortions popping up, and of course I must remain silent. People don’t want to know this. They don’t actually want to change their own behavior or think about their thoughts. And they would be insulted or embarrassed, even though they are the one oversharing to me. It is only socially acceptable to offer support like, oh you poor thing that sounds difficult for you. They just want to hear it sucks, for validation.

I’ve found when I interact online, I can control the pace and intensity and don’t get overwhelmed. Each time I venture out to a real life Meetup, it is not a positive experience.

I’m not sure that’s bad or unhealthy. At this point in my life, if I feel satisfied by this level of connection, than maybe I need to stop trying to force myself into a more social, extroverted role just because I’m supposed to be lonely this way.

I’ve been reading “Quiet” by Susan Cain and embracing my introverted self. I don’t think I need fixed. When I socialize it is to complete a task, or because others want me there. I get nothing but stress from most gatherings otherwise.

I watched the Netflix series “Atypical” which was fantastic. I’m not an expert on autism to know if they portrayed this accurately at all. It was entertaining, but also I indentified strongly with his social struggles. I don’t think I’m autistic. But I do think I’m atypical and that my brain can’t be changed much at this point. I don’t connect and form bonds or relationships like most others do. I’m highly sensitive, tuned into emotions, which is the autistic difference. My hyperactive neurons though gives me high scores on tests for autism, overwhelmed by sensory input, can’t look people in the eye, don’t make friends, can’t work in groups, hate loud noises and bright lights, take things too literally at times, repetitive soothing behaviors, trouble following conversation, it goes on and on. Fascinating really. So it seems that autism may be caused by too many neural connections, a lack of pruning, is one theory. I’ve read similar theories for anxiety and PTSD, our connections stay strong reinforcing past memories to keep us vigilant and safe.

This is me rambling and I hope not being stupid or offensive with these curious thoughts. I only look for similarities to figure out the puzzle of me. I don’t claim to be right, ever.

Need a Lift?

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Ever had your car broken down on the highway, had to pull over, watch all the other cars zoom past you, life goes on full speed while you wait for help?

That’s how I’ve been feeling every day. Watching healthy people pass me by.  Live their lives without me, at a pace I cannot keep up with. It’s not anyone’s fault now. I can’t expect them to wait for me. They can’t expect me to keep up. And so I’m on a different track, like an alternate reality, life in the slow lane.

I suppose I’ve always had a taste of this, a bit of exclusion for this reason or that. But now the reasons have multiplied, yes like rabbits, why did my mind go there, and I’m finding that I’m not really included anywhere now. Exclusion has become the rule. I am a ghost in my own life.

And just like when stranded on the side of the road, I have no escape route. My body seems to have more than a simple flat tire, not that I would know how to change that myself anyway, but someone would, eventually. Nope. I have one of those issues, that when you lift the hood, multiple people stare and scratch their heads, going “hmm, not even sure how she made it this far, what a mess in here”.

And then I think, ok, what if I do find someone that figures it all out and can actually fix me? How am I supposed to get back into traffic? After all this time just drive back in without getting run over? I think not. but that seems lightyears away if not impossible, so whatever…

OK, enough with this bad highway metaphor. you get it. Just a thought I had.

What I’m trying to say is that I’m completely worn out by all the medical tests these doctors are ordering, and all of the abnormal results that prompt more tests and referrals to more doctors. At first, doctors were saying, I need to accept my new reality, lower my expectations, this is as good as it gets. They were not listening to my symptoms but painting their own conclusions about me. I kept complaining and using different words until I got sent for some tests. I think they were thinking nothing would come of it, but let’s satisfy the crazy lady.

But then wait. She actually has abnormal reflexes in her visual and auditory system? Could this explain the sensory overwhelm she has been describing for years now that has been dismissed as anxiety? YES

Do I have anxiety? yes, not denying that, but this is different, and please give me credit to know if I am anxious or if my nervous system is giving me a similar feeling due to an autonomic response. Well they do now.

Turns out I have ocularmotor issues, visual processing delays, saccadic dysmetria, hyperreactive auditory and visual stimuli with little suppression. I have loads of other cool words I could insert from my test results that I don’t feel like looking up right now. My world is literally overwhelming my nerves. So all of the wacko, wonky CNS stuff, like feeling lightheaded, sweaty, tightness in chest, nauseous – all very similar to anxiety – can be brought on by ordinary sounds, smells and sights. More intensity means I have more intense reactions, similar to motion sickness. Its like I have sensory input sickness. My vestibular system is overloaded and confused.

Okay. So I’ve had balance issues for nearly 30 years, maybe all of it wasn’t from the spinal cord injury, but made worse from it? And the migraines are a product of a worn out nervous system trying to make sense of the world. See isn’t this fun? I don’t blame those doctors for pushing me aside, what a freaking mess.

And I know this is not written clearly. Apparently thats something I have also lost, the ability to think, recall, and use thoughts in a proper sequence. I’ve been avoiding writing much due to all my issues and frustrations and irritating red underlines on the page to correct. But maybe I shouldn’t. Maybe I should trust that whoever reads this can put it back in the proper order and you all just may enjoy a daily puzzle, who knows. See I’m still snarky so I know I’m still here hidden in this mess of confused neurons.

Anyhow I met a new vestibular rehab therapist today that has dared to give me some hope. You all know how dangerous that can be, to be given hope once you have gotten to a stage of acceptance, only to have it yanked away again. I’m so afraid to walk that line, and yet I must if I am going to keep trying to battle this and get well, or as well as possible. I could really use some support so I’m not sitting on the side of the highway all alone.

Owning It – A step past acceptance

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I always say when you are open, the universe speaks to you. I am hearing one message loud and clear being repeated from multiple sources. It’s starting to sink in and take hold and I hope I can explain this clearly.

I’ve always had something to struggle against. An illness, a disease, a deformity, a disorder.  I’ve always accepted each one as it is diagnosed as a new part of me to struggle with, fight with – and HIDE!! I was taught to be normal, above all costs. Never let anyone know you are suffering. Never let anyone know you are different. Never let anyone know you need help. It is shameful, horrible, disgusting. It is whining, weak, pitiful. No one will want to listen or be in the room with you. No one will accept you with all of your flaws. You must only present a perfect version of yourself, like an edited photograph representing you instead of your real you.

No one can see you in a wheelchair, a brace, a bandage, a pimple, a scar, if you’ve gained a pound, if your nose is red from a cold. No one can see your pain or fear or confusion.

I followed those rules most of life, somehow I actually did. I hid my disabilities like a good girl. I know I shared my difficulty with having to use a can a year ago, in public. It took everything in me to show people I needed that, something so visibly wrong with me, and of course the comments came, “you’re too young to need a cane…” remember that?

OK, so my doctors are now recommending that I get special tinted lenses in my glasses, and special earplugs. The idea here is that my migraines are caused by overactivity, overexcitability, too much stimulation of neurons and these aids can help reduce sensory input, reducing triggers and sensory overload, meltdown and confusion. Makes sense, I struggle when shopping in bright lights or surrounded in a noisy crowd.

But my first thought was, hell no, I don’t want to look like a freak. What if people notice? What if they ask me about my weirdo glasses? Can I handle that?

I’m working with this one major stuck point still as it runs deeply and is multifaceted, this feeling of being a freak and needing to hide flaws. It is a core belief, reinforced by my entire family, and sadly, by most of my adult relationships as well. People do not often respond positively to people with special needs. But that doesn’t mean I should be afraid to have special needs. I started to accept that I do – but can I own it?

Here’s the difference. And wait for it, it was explained to me by my MIL!!! I was telling her about these lenses, and tentatively expressed my fear of wearing glasses that would make me stand out. The ones I need are likely a deep rusty rose color (and yes I’ve already explored all of the implications that my doctor is literally prescribing rose colored glasses, so, umm, anyway) and would be quite obvious. I asked MIL, what if people ask me, why are your glasses pink? She said “Tell them you like pink. Get some other pink things, a pink hat, flower, bow, necklace, color your hair pink. Own it. If they want to look let them look. If they want to ask, let them ask, Who cares what they think. If these glasses help you feel better…that’s all that matters, you are all that matters, not them. Just own it. Be someone who wears pink. why not”

I actually cried. My mind was blown. I have never heard such a message of acceptance in my entire life. And to come from someone that is closest to my mother figure, well, it has broken something in me. I needed someone’s permission I think, and she gave it to me. I can be weird. I can like pink. I look different. why not. who cares what they think?

Can I do that? Can I stop hiding? Can I own it? Oh my god I don’t know but I know I want to. Can I be the girl that doesn’t care what I look like when I dance in the rain, all alone? Just be her, own that feeling I get when I’m hiking and carry it with me everywhere? How do I start? I just start. I stop hiding.

I say hello world. This is me. I am not apologizing any more.

OH!

I forgot to add the other message I received from the universe. I was listening to music this morning, and put on Colbie Caillat to see what I got in the youtube mix. She always makes me happy. First song that came on was “Try” and I wasn’t writing yet, so I watched the video, with all these beautiful, unique women, and woah did this message hit me hard. Tears were unstoppable. This is exactly what I needed to hear coming from one of my favorite singers too. So simple – yet beyond powerful. I think I’ve heard the song before, but never absorbed it like today.

You don’t have to try so hard. to belong. Do they like you? you don’t have to bend until you break. you just have to get up. look in the mirror, at yourself. Do you like you? I like You.

Here’s the entire song:

Put your make-up on
Get your nails done
Curl your hair
Run the extra mile
Keep it slim so they like you, do they like you?

Get your sexy on
Don’t be shy, girl
Take it off
This is what you want, to belong, so they like you
Do you like you?

You don’t have to try so hard
You don’t have to, give it all away
You just have to get up, get up, get up, get up
You don’t have to change a single thing

You don’t have to try, try, try, try
You don’t have to try, try, try, try
You don’t have to try, try, try, try
You don’t have to try
You don’t have to try

Mm, mm

Get your shopping on, at the mall, max your credit cards
You don’t have to choose, buy it all, so they like you
Do they like you?

Wait a second,
Why, should you care, what they think of you
When you’re all alone, by yourself, do you like you?
Do you like you?

You don’t have to try so hard
You don’t have to, give it all away
You just have to get up, get up, get up, get up
You don’t have to change a single thing

You don’t have to try so hard
You don’t have to bend until you break
You just have to get up, get up, get up, get up
You don’t have to change a single thing

You don’t have to try, try, try, try
You don’t have to try, try, try, try
You don’t have to try, try, try, try
You don’t have to try

You don’t have to try, try, try, try
You don’t have to try, try, try, try
You don’t have to try, try, try, try
You don’t have to try
You don’t have to try

Mm, mm

You don’t have to try so hard
You don’t have to, give it all away
You just have to get up, get up, get up, get up
You don’t have to change a single thing

You don’t have to try, try, try, try
You don’t have to try, try, try, try
You don’t have to try
You don’t have to try

Take your make-up off
Let your hair down
Take a breath
Look into the mirror, at yourself
Don’t you like you?
‘Cause I like you

I scream everyday

I am not a thrill seeker, not an adrenaline junkie. I have too much adrenaline in me at all times. It never settles down. My body and brain are always on high alert. Nothing I do can change that, it seems.

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I scream everyday. I don’t mean I raise my voice and yell or lose my temper. No that isn’t. I speak in barely audible tones actually. I mean I scream. The scream of someone who is startled, frightened, sent into panic.

My kids are used to this response and are careful not to sneak up on me, but it doesn’t matter, no one can be careful enough. I am still going to jump and scream about something.

Generally it is when my back is turned and someone says something I don’t expect behind me. That will get a short AHHH, my heart racing, I nearly fall over, brace myself on the counter or wall or chair or whatever is near. I can’t see for a second as I recover, then when I see it is my dog, or kid we all laugh it off. I have learned to laugh, although honestly I don’t find it funny. The fear I feel is real. I laugh so the other person doesn’t feel badly and take my condition too seriously.

If someone unexpectedly touches me, my reaction is even stronger. I scream a bigger, longer, louder scream almost like a howl AAAOOOOHHHHH and I move, run, duck, lash out or some other defensive move. I have hit Hubby – good thing I am not strong. I have pushed the kids away, thankfully never hit them, as I retreat. I have hurt myself, bad scrapes and bruises, as I retreat so quickly. I have bumped into objects, like walls, chairs, railings, bedframes, whatever is between me and the scary thing that touched me. I have lost my balance and fallen too.

I don’t feel like I am anxious or near panic before these events happen. There is not time to breathe and prevent this reaction, they are over so quickly. Like when someone jumps out and says BOO or a snake suddenly crosses your path. You react. I do this all day long, every day, in my own house. I can’t remember not doing this.

But here is something interesting. I remember my mom doing this.

I remember my mom being jumpy. Screaming at silly things, startling if you walked into the room, even if you didn’t say anything. I remember my brothers picking on her, actually playing tricks to make her scream, like bringing in tree branches and saying “look mom, a snake!” I never thought those tricks were funny. I was always careful to be quiet and say “Hey Ma” as I came near so as not to sneak up on her. I hated when she screamed.

But I never thought much about this, about these memories of her until now. I am now of course thinking that she also had PTSD, when she was the age I am now. That she was worn out and frazzled by her abusive husband and whatever else happened to her that I don’t even know about.

I’m also thinking, I wonder if this can have a genetic component. Because not everyone gets PTSD. Some people can endure torture and recover without flashbacks and nervous breakdowns and excessive startle responses. Maybe our nerves were already wired to be sensitive. Maybe I would have always had migraines and ulcers and a high stress body but the repeated traumas put us in full blown PTSD. I don’t know. No one knows. Just some thoughts I had.

Preparing for triggers

Tommorrow will be a day full of unavoidable triggers. And other stresses too. I am taking my daughter to the back specialist. Upon my insistence, I asked pediatrician for an xray. She has mild scoliosis.

Breathe. It is mild. It may stay mild. 

Because I want the best for her, I am taking her to the same place I went. Recently and as a child. But now we get to go to the pediatric office, the actual same place I went. Even better, better for her, worse for flashback potential, her Dr is the the son of my Dr back then. Same name, same floor. I lost it a few months ago when I had to go to the same building for radiology. 

I have to keep myself grounded and present. My daughter may see a full blown panic attack or flashback for the first time. But I have to be there for her. It would have been better for me to choose a different dr, but not best for her.

So I can do this. Somehow I can do it. I already feel sick, a migraine. Nightmares for days have kept me from resting. I am so tired.

Then other stresses combined as usual to make this week even harder to manage. And yet I must. More later on the other stresses, too much to write now

No lunch,no problem

I defeated anxiety again. This story sounds trivial but it isn’t at all. It shows progress and healing.

My daughter packed a lunch for school and forgot it at home. Last year I would not have been able to do anything about it. The thought of walking into a school office would start the panic. I would rationalize, that it didn’t matter, that it taught them to be responsible, that they won’t really suffer they have money in the account to buy lunch…I had many more excuses for why I didn’t have to hand someone a lunchbox. I was terrified of a two minute errand because it was new, and required social interaction.

So this time I just did it. No excuses. Drove there. Shaking hands, deep breathing. Pause in parking lot for grounding and breathing. I walk up to front door, see a sign saying to use door 2C during school hours. I have never done this. Never gone to this school during session, I didn’t know where 2C was. I felt my heart racing faster, feeling stupid, I start pulling on locked door after locked door. None of them are labeled anything, let alone 2C. 

Then I see it! Painted so big I might be able to see it from home, if not from the moon, a huge 2C on a door by itself. I enter that one to find myself in a type of airlock, a secretary in what I assume was bullet proof glass with only a vent hole to speak through like at a bank or subway. Wow. Sad they had to design it this way, but I understand I guess. And I am the one with unbalanced thoughts regarding safety? Hmm.

Anyway, I waved the lunchbox, and managed a sheepish grin. She buzzed me in. I already had my girl’s name and teacher on a sticky note, so the secretary just said she would make sure she got it and smiled nicely. I thanked her and hoped my face smiled back and that she didn’t see the terror in my eyes.

If I could have ran I would have, but instead I walked back to my car, gasped for air like I had been under water, and drove home once I could feel my fingers.

So prior to last year, this task would not have stressed me. But at some point everything like this became impossible. So I am healing from that. But what is even more remarkable, is my understanding of my fear, because now I can hear my thoughts, my stuck points.

I was afraid to do something wrong, to be stupid, to be laughed at, to get caught making a mistake when I should know better, for someone to figure out I had never been to the school before and ask me why, for someone to figure out my secrets.

The thing is, no one cares. People in this world don’t mind when I don’t know something and don’t care about my secrets. They just want to do their jobs. People in this world are generally friendly or at least not the cruel enemies AF had created in his delusional world.