You Will Not Control Me Today

There was a time when I was under the impression that my thoughts were normal.

That freaking out to a crazy extent was actually something that people did on a regular basis.

It wasn't until I hit the lowest of lows in my depression that my anxiety level hit a nasty high and I realized, this was not normal.

Looking back on it now, I can see all the signs. But then I did not know what to look for.

Driving to youth group and not being able to breathe, feeling your chest tighten beneath you...just because you had to walk through the door.

Being lost in the store because I literally could not talk to an employee without feeling like I was going to black out.

Heart racing over going into a new restaurant, or one I had been to a million times. Heart racing over the fact that I was meeting someone for the first time. Heart racing because I had to be alone.

And this week, I realized that this started when I was really, really young...

I remember watching a cartoon about this girl who got kidnapped and then her dad found her blah blah blah... Most normal kids would be like okay like one bad dream and it is over.

I spent months being terrified that everyone was going to kidnap me.
I had what I now know as an anxiety attack in a horse carriage because I was sitting by the open door and all I could see was someone reaching in to snatch me.
Months. Months of strangers causing me so much fear I could not breathe. Months of not leaving my parents side. Months of nightmares and not being able to fall asleep because there was someone waiting outside for me to fall asleep so they could grab me. Even after my parents figured out that something was wrong and talked to me about it, I still could not shake the fear.

Crying hysterically all of the sudden in children's church because you are suddenly convinced that your uncle died in Iraq. Or when you have a new children's pastor and they invite you to bring your favorite toy to church next week for a show and tell...and you are fine until it is your turn and then all of the sudden, even though you know everyone in the room, you can't talk and you just sit there crying unable to move. And not being able to be comforted by the children's pastor because you don't know her and it scares you that she wants to hug you so you just start shaking because you are terrified.

Paralyzing fear.

Not just normal little kid fear.

This was big.

But you know, as a kid you don't know how to tell anyone about this.

And it isn't like my parents knew what was going on... There isn't a handbook on parenthood.

And if I am just now realizing what all this stuff was...Cannot blame them for not knowing either.

It is silly things, like roll call in college, and finding a new class room, or group projects, that would make me literally freeze in my tracks, that tell me now what was going on.

Anxiety.

And then when my depression hit an all time low, it reared its nasty head and made itself known.

And it was the most freeing experience of my life.

Okay not so much at the time...

My first panic attack, literally the worst experience of my life. I was convinced I was dying.

But it also helped me to get help for it. It helped me to figure out that, wow these thoughts are not normal, this is not normal.

Freedom comes when you can finally tell yourself, this is your sickness talking, it is not real.

And even though I have found freedom, it doesn't make it any easier.

There are still days that I sit and cannot leave my house. The thought of walking to my door and turning the handle is too much for me. There are days when I have to force myself to get up and get out. For dumb reasons like, that day I happen to be convinced that I am going to get mugged and raped if I open the door.

Two months I had no communication with my husband. Terrifying honestly. But I made it through okay, until the last week when I didn't get an email and everyone else did it seemed like. Normal people think thoughts like, well maybe it didn't come through, maybe he is busy, he is probably working really long hours. But no, not me. I spent the entire week in fear that my husband has died, or punched someone and got in trouble, or went mentally crazy and is locked up in a room, or he decided to bat for the other team and doesn't know how to tell me, or maybe he decided that he just didn't love me anymore and he wanted me out of his house when he got home, or maybe he lost all his memory and could no longer remember that he was married...  Not normal thoughts, especially considering how much my husband loves me. But these were literally my paralyzing fears that I had to talk myself down from every time I checked my email and had nothing waiting in my inbox.

This is not normal.

And that is okay.

Because now I know it is not normal.

And now I know that I can fight it.

This last week I went to a brand new sit down restaurant by myself. And then I went to the bookstore by myself. And then I went to the beach by myself.

And let me tell you, that was the biggest moment for me... I was so proud of myself for conquering my fears in those moments. I might have hid behind my book at the bar, but I didn't stop breathing when a guy asked me to move down. I might have not looked up once from my book at the beach, but I still sat there alone for an hour.

I did it.

And I have to celebrate the winnings because I feel like I lose a lot more than I win. But I cannot focus on the losses. I have to focus on the moments when I take my disease by the throat and scream:

"You will not control me today."

Love, Kiki