Impending Doom

After driving home from my grandmother’s farm, I lie on my bed and stare catatonically at the ceiling fan.  My body wants to do something, but my mind is stuck, frozen, unable to make my body function.

I think about death.  The more I think about death the closer I feel like I am approaching death.  My stomach hurts.  I cannot stop going to the bathroom.  All I can think is cancer runs in my family.  What if I have bladder cancer?  What if I am dying?  After seeing grandma confused and frail in the nursing home, death is directly in my face.  I am so scared about how I will leave this world.  Panic creeps into my chest.  My heart feels like it could explode.  My shoulders feel so heavy as if they were supporting a pile of bricks.  Panic.  Panic.  Panic.  I need to work.  I need to focus.  I need to move on with my life.  But all I can do is sit and stare at the ceiling as though the answers are scribbled across it.  The ceiling is a blank canvas and has no answers.  My mind too is a blank canvas containing few answers.

Call someone.  Call someone.  I call my husband.  It doesn’t help.  I agitate him and am not very nice, accusing him of not understanding, thinking I am crazy, and being mad at me.  It was exhausting for him I am sure.

I feel exposed doing it but I call Aunt A., leave a frantic voicemail.  I feel so damn alone and overwhelmed.  She calls me back and talks me through it, tells me I’m not crazy, that I had retriggered the PTSD.  I can’t believe I have full-blown PTSD.  In the past several years, I wrote off the idea that my abuse caused so many problems.  The way I was raised, made me tough I reasoned.  Yes, it did for a while and then that toughness began to crumble like the foundation on an ancient house, each piece splitting and cracking and then splitting and cracking some more.  I can no longer handle stuff the way I once could.  Over the years, I could slip on a mask, shut off my feelings, and go into a numb trance, and tolerate people further taking advantage of me.

Now I freeze like I did as a child.  Freeze and shake and sweat and tremble and cry.  So much toughness has morphed into so much weakness.  I am not dead though so I must still have some of that toughness inside me, fighting for life.  I trust Auntie when she tells me that I will come out on the other side much stronger.


2 thoughts on “Impending Doom

  1. Alaina says:

    Wow. I am amazed by how you express the deepest things.

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