I’m struggling to write this, but I hope that by sharing a bit of my story, I will empower someone else who might be struggling to reach out for help.

TRIGGER WARNING

I talk about some specific stuff here so if you are in a vulnerable place or are actively experiencing intrusive thoughts you might want to skip this one.

Two years ago I ran half marathon on the Saturday before Mother’s Day. The course went through the rolling hills of the Santa Ynez Valley, past beautiful homes, farms, horse stables, and a buffalo ranch for goodness sake! The weather was perfect.  A little foggy at the start and the sun came out towards the end but all the while the air was cool and crisp and I enjoyed every step…until I didn’t.

Let’s back up a minute to a few months before the race.  When my daughter was a year old she decided to abruptly wean herself from nursing.  Basically, she was telling me, “Thank you for your time, but your services are no longer needed.” I wasn’t ready for this, but I told myself that this is her journey. I was sad for a few days, but I made peace with it. About a month later I began to have a whole host of physical symptoms.  I felt nauseated and dizzy, and tired. I was always tired. I became convinced I was pregnant. I probably took 5 pregnancy tests that month.  I put in a call to my OB and she explained to me that since I had been either pregnant or nursing for more than 3 years my body was just adjusting to not having those hormones and that in a few months, once my period returned to normal these symptoms should go away.

Sure enough, she was right, but just as those physical symptoms subsided a new set of issues popped up.  I found myself awake in the middle of the night worrying about one thing or another.  During the day I felt on edge, impatient, and my thoughts were racing.  Then I started to experience what I called, “my scary thoughts.”  I would be fine, and then all of the sudden I was struck with an awful image so vivid it took my breath away.

my scary thoughts

I remember the first time it happened I was chopping some vegetables in the kitchen and my daughter was playing on the floor next to me. I turned to put the vegetables on the frying pan and I still had the kitchen knife in my hand.  Through my fingers, I could see the knife in my hand and my daughter playing in the background.  Within an instant, my mind played out an entire scenario of me dropping the knife and it stabbing her in the stomach.  That one thought literally sent my mind spinning.  How would I keep my older son from seeing this? What if I did the wrong thing and she died because of my mistake? I thought about what I would do down to the smallest detail. And then I feared… What would people think of me if I let something like that happen?  What would my family think of me? What would my husband think of me? What if they came to take my kids away?

All of this would flash across my mind in an instant, and then be gone because I have two kids and they don’t stop to let me think about anything, let alone process what the hell image just popped into my mind.  Whenever I had a quiet moment, however, there was that thought again.  I would see a horrific scene play out in my mind and I would obsess over it, playing out every gory detail. Nighttime was the worst.  I would fall asleep like a rock and wake up around 3-4 am, be up for an hour or two, and then fall back asleep around 6 am, only to have my kids up and needing me again at 6:30 am.  Not only was it affecting my sleep, but I started to isolate from my friends.  I wouldn’t want to leave the house for fear of what might happen.

I was like a frayed electrical wire sparking without reason and yet I also felt like I was experiencing the world as if I was underwater; sounds muffled and my vision blurred.

It wasn’t so scary all of the time.  I had a 3-year-old and a 1-year-old who were just beginning to really play with each other and I had these moments that my heart was so filled with love that it felt like it was going to explode.  Because I had these moments of pure joy pretty regularly I reasoned that my feelings of anxiousness and scary thoughts were just part of my new normal.

So this was life was for me:  supreme happiness with pockets of Scary thoughts, anxiety, and sleeplessness.

On the day of the race, as I approached the finish line, the crowd along the course got bigger and the cheers began to get louder. I felt my chest begin to tighten and I was having trouble breathing.  My legs, (which up to this point, had been steady and strong) started to give out and I feared I might fall. I shook out my arms a little, sort of like a boxer does when he sizes up his opponent and took a deep breath. That gave me enough time to realize that this wasn’t physical it was mental.  For the last 200 yards or so I repeated to myself over and over, “You’re safe, you’re strong, you’ll be ok.” Once I crossed the finish line and I was able to catch my breath again, I knew something was wrong and that I couldn’t continue living like this. It was more than just being overwhelmed and tired, and it had turned into something more serious.

Good moms don’t have scary thoughts

I was scared of judgment because “good moms” don’t have these scary thoughts.  “Good moms” can handle being overwhelmed.  “Good moms” can care for their children without needing professional help. But good moms also know when they reach their limit. It may take us a while to get there, but we know when enough is enough.

That panic attack, as scary as it was, was the catalyst to get me to realize that what I was experiencing was not normal. That panic attack made me start talking, first to my mommy tribe, and then to my husband. I called a friend, actually, I called several friends who I knew would support me. I had a hard time telling my husband because I didn’t want him to be afraid to leave me with the kids, but he was actually very supportive and we were able to relate to each other’s fears and become more connected.