No, not my groove, groove.
Well, maybe some of that too.
But my confidence to walk out my door. Just to take a walk. For my health, and mental health.
I've been hold up in my house for so long now that I've become afraid of people outside of my family. This isn't because of COVID. I've been home longer than COVID was a thing and the subsequent lockdown. I'm a work from home person. Therefore I don't go out much. I used to go out a lot. But for some reason, I stopped. I just stopped.
I started making up excuses for why I wouldn't be able to go do this or that. All with the private underlying fear of seeing people and having to interact or feeling like they'd judge me if I passed out in public etc. (More on this later.) Then as my health got better and passing out wasn't a thing the rest just stayed there. And I still feel like if I go out even to my front yard that people are going to watch me and judge me etc.
Where in the hell did this fear of people come from? I'm good in a work setting where I have to help clients, or passengers, etc. But that's a fixed reason to interact with people. I have a mental script for all that so I'm mostly ok about those interactions when I was working outside of the home.
Now all my interactions are organic and I'm freaked out by them. I'm shy. I really am super shy. I may not show it but if you run into me and all I do is wave or just say hi and avoid eye contact for the first couple minutes or allow something to distract me so I can quit the conversation or interaction that's my shyness taking control of my body and brain. Is it shyness? Or is something else happening?
***
Ok, so a bit of a backstory since I brought up the passing out health thing back a few paragraphs. It might help someone out there who is going through or has gone through the same thing I did. And occasionally go through still to this day just not as frequent or as violently.
In the Spring, Summer, and Fall of 2017, I started to get flu-like symptoms every time I ate or drank anything with calorie content. I would feel headachy, dizzy, shaking, nauseated, vomiting, diarrhea, body aches, and chills, and like I was going to pass out after I would eat or drink. I would have to go lay down for hours after I ate just try to manage through the pain and horrible discomfort of that. My liver was shutting down, I was passing grey stool. Basically, I was miserable.
I had injured my left shoulder, arm, back, and left knee at work from a weird accident caused by another worker. This left me with permanent nerve damage on my left side which radiates from my TMJ down the front of my chest to the end of my ribs on that side and wraps around towards the back flowing all the way up to the lower part of my neck where my skull seats on my spine and all the way down to my fingers on my left arm. My knee pain pales in comparison. So because of those injuries, I was put on some heavy-duty pain and nerve meds. I took those for years... until I got sick.
When I was so sick I couldn't take anything without going through the misery of digesting it I decided I had to figure out what was wrong. So I started reading. Google is the best doctor. ;) LOL I also talked to my doctor. No, not the one that prescribed all the pain meds but my holistic doc. There was no way I was going to go back into the hospital for yet another run in the tube or an extended stay in a shared room. Hell no! So I decided to skip the western med doc and hit my holistic doc. I've been in and out of the tube, had x-ray's, nerve studies, surgeries that were not related to my shoulder injury, etc and I was sick of it. So I opted out.
My holistic doctor did his checks on me and was lead to several areas in my body, my liver, pancreas, kidneys, and stomach. I did tell him how sick, the eating, and flu-like reaction to eating. But nothing else. He suggested that I do a liver cleanse and gave me some Silmax PC-80 that I started at low doses 3 times a day. I coupled that with removing the foods that caused me the most pain when I ate them. The list included meat, uncooked veg, and raw fruits. Basically, I ate mushy food or soup broth. I also quit my pain meds including gabapentin, hydrocodone, methocarbamol, and all NSAIDs. Yes, including ibuprofen. I traded all those for CBD & Curcumin.
Working with my doc it took over a year to get my liver to heal. I still don't eat meats but I can do raw veg and fruits now. And every now and again I have a slight relapse with my liver and correct accordingly.
So that's how I became an accidental vegetarian. And the end of the backstory.
Now back to what's going on now.
***
What is going on is that I was a homebody before COVID. And when the lockdowns happened I was part of the whole again. And even though I was freaked the hell out by all the hype and media coverage of this illness I felt as if I was part of the outside world again. Sounds weird, but it's true.
Then the weight of all that is COVID and the stay at home order hits me mentally. I feel the emotional separation from my family, my children, niece, nephew, mother, grammy, etc. I feel it deeply. I hadn't been able to see my oldest daughter, who lives in Canada, because of the border closure. This shit is real. And it's real heavy.
So I see the people walking. They are always walking. We live on a walking path and it has constant people traffic. I watch them walk by talking to the person they are walking with and think "man! I'd love to walk and talk with someone. Anyone!" I'd think real hard on it and go grab my shoes and put a jumper on. Then for some reason, that's as far as I'd go. I'd put my shoes by the door just in case I change my mind later. But I knew I wouldn't. I was just hoping I would.
Then in April, I received a call from my oldest daughter who is hysterically crying and trying to talk. She finally gets out that my sweet nephew lost his battle with depression. Oh My God! My daughter was the first to find out because the cops couldn't find anyone to go tell and used the previous owner of his car to find someone to tell. That previous owner called my daughter because they couldn't get in touch with me through my cell. I didn't answer my cell because I was working on cooking breakfast for my husband and our children that still live with us. So because I chose not to answer my phone my daughter had to be the first to hear the tragic news. And top that off with me losing my shit when she told me. My heart! It felt like it was being ripped out of my chest! My body was in so much pain. I was losing it and I couldn't even control it. No control at all. My sweet nephew, the one who called me Aunt Blee when he was little, took his life because he was so depressed and felt that there was no other choice. And all I could do was lose my shit. My sister still hadn't been told. My mother either. Just my daughter, then myself...and finally my husband who had to figure out what was going on because I had seriously lost it and had run all the way to the other end of the house all the way into our master bath to fall on the ground and lose it even further. My chest was so painful...so much pain. And during this, I knew I had the responsibility to tell my sister, the mother of my sweet nephew. How the fuck do you do that while you're all the way on the other side of the country?! Over the fucking phone. My sister got that dreaded phone call too. But it was even harder for her. She was his mommy. He was her baby. And he was gone. Never coming back. Never going to celebrate his 22nd birthday. The list of nevers goes on.
*** National Suicide Prevention Lifeline
1-800-273-8255
So depression hits. And it hits harder than I've had in years. So fucking hard. I watch my kids for any sign that they are going through what my nephew went through. I'm hypersensitive to all their moods, their breaths, sniffles, etc. I'm overthinking all of it and all their movements. Same with my mom and my niece. I keep calling and checking. Pushing them to go see each other. They are only minutes apart. Fuck this COVID shit. They need people. They need hugs. My daughter, in Canada, couldn't have mom hugs but thank god she had husband hugs. We all needed all the hugs we could get. All of us. My son's and my remaining daughter who live with us still needed hugs. And if they didn't think they did I gave them anyway because I needed them. I needed the fucking hugs. I needed to feel their live, warm bodies in my arms. My babies. My living, breathing babies. My lifelines.
My shoes still sat by the door. They invited me to go out. But I knew I'd just bawl the whole time and people would look at me. They'd see I was crying. Or they would notice me because I was crying. So no, I didn't go out. I did go out to tend to my front gardens. And the one time I found a stray forget me not plant that made me cry, someone just happened to be walking by and decided that was a good time for a stop and talk. Yes, I had tears and a runny nose! Damnit! Figures huh...
Fast forward to the end of August. Yes, shit is still hard. Still so fucking hard at moments. And then at others, I forget I'm supposed to be sad. You know that thought 'I shouldn't be having fun or enjoying my life because he isn't here to enjoy his'? That's the thought that runs through your mind when you remember. And you really have to make that decision to go on. You have to go on! You have to live and smile and enjoy. Hard as it seems and tough as it feels it has to be done. And eventually, it will be easier to just enjoy the life I have. And remembering will be sweet. More sweet than sad.
A few weeks ago I wrote on my mirror. It was this quote or saying I heard from a program on Gaia. I suppose it's more of a statement where you fill in the blank.
It says, "If I wasn't afraid I'd _____."
Well, this morning when I was in the shower I filled in that blank.
My statement was ~
"If I wasn't so afraid of people looking at me, judging me, or talking to me while I was walking I'd go for that walk."
I figured out that I could alter the statement to fit my need. I had been stuck on the filling in the blank part that my thoughts didn't work with the statement. Not until I made the statement mine. I owned it. It is what keeps me from taking that step out of the front door. But today I went out of the SIDE door. ;) I went for that walk. I said hi when people said hi to me. I'm not sure if my voice was good or not because I wore my earbuds to listen to an audiobook while I walked. But I responded. It didn't kill me! I survived! It felt good!
Ok, confession time...My walk was only 17 minutes. That was it. But it was the hardest first 5 minutes! And when I hit this place I ended up turning right when I wanted to go straight it was because I had to interact with a guy who was walking his dog and he said hi. It wasn't a thought out right-turn at all. It just happened. I think my brain was thinking "Shit! Get her out of here now! People are starting to talk to her!" And pushed my feet towards the right instead of continuing across the street on the trail. And all of a sudden I was headed home. Autopilot for the mentally distressed? Is there such a thing or am I making crap up again?
Maybe tomorrow will be different. Maybe tomorrow I'll be more aware of my actions and the causes of them. And tomorrow I'll open the front door and go for that walk... Maybe.
xo,
Sabrina
