Thursday, July 18, 2013
So I had a heart attack on Monday, and I was positive death was coming for me. An ominous cloud was looming overhead making my heart race at record breaking speed. Air could not enter, my lungs had slammed their doors. My pounding heart was the only sound in the world. And I somehow managed to find my way to the emergency room. Nurses. Needles. And Machines. I was surrounded by these things which should normally comfort a dying person… give them a sliver of light of survival. Instead I felt claustrophobic and impending doom. The tightness in my chest grew stronger and tears escaped my eyes, though they were squeezed shut. I wanted the darkness. I wanted to feel it close around me. Peace. I wanted peace. A sharp poke awoke my eyes and I looked down to see a clear line streaming into my vein. I felt coldness creep in and then I was calm.
The doctor came in, he sat on the edge of my bed. Rubbed my hand. And he spoke. A panic attack. That’s what had happened to me. And it was terrifying. Apparently these things happen to people.
So while my heart is still racing, I'm breathing. Taking baby steps to managing my stress.
Life is tough folks, but This too shall pass.
Tuesday, July 9, 2013
Today is July 9th, 2013. Today is my would-be 11th wedding anniversary.
Traditionally, Mr. X and I would be giving each other lovely gifts made of steel. Steel is given to represent strength and endurance. And it does. I am stronger today than the me who stood next to Mr. X eleven years ago. And I definitely endured. I don’t know if Mr. X is stronger and I don’t care. I’d like to hope so, but some people never change and I’m betting he’s one of the changeless kind.
I can’t help but to point out the irony that falls on this year’s gift of Steel. Steel bars... is my gift to Mr. X. I hope that as he sits on his concrete bed staring at and past those steel bars, he reflects on today. That the steel bars that hold him in that small cell remind him of the strength I finally found. I may not have been physically strong enough to stop his attacks. I was, however, strong enough to stand in front of the judge and an overflowing courtroom to explain in explicit detail what he had done to me. And that is real strength. That is the real strength Mr. X will never have. That is the real strength that pushed the button that slammed the steel bars shut. My strength stopped him. I had endured.
So happy anniversary Mr. X… I sincerely hope Bubba is being nice to you today.
Wednesday, July 3, 2013
I dropped Mr.Franklin somewhere in Bountiful or Salt Lake. It has probably hitchhiked its way somewhere else by now. Probably China. Expletive. Fill-in-the-blank-expletive. I'm close to the brink of begging... it's really my only option left, I've already cried all the tears I have in me. (Enter my dramatic antics.)
$100 is a lot of money. To anyone. And to me, it may as well have been my right arm (and let's face it folks… I’m totally not left handed).
Now if you’ll excuse me… I’m going to go crawl up in a hole somewhere and rock back and forth in the fetal position. No judgement friends, I just foolishly lost $100. And it wasn’t even somewhere fun like Vegas or a shoe store. It was probably on the sidewalk or something. I think that justifies a little dramatic behavior. Right?