The Next Right Thing...
What does it mean to truly love yourself? What does it mean to truly care about yourself in a way that is so deep that you would do anything to be well. This was something that I had never done, never thought I could and was frankly too afraid to do. What would they do without me? Who will I disappoint? Will there be someone left so utterly pissed off with me that I can’t even bear to even look them in the eye? Now I say…who the FUCK cares.
Rewind 6 years ago when I welcomed my daughter into our lives. It was a much anticipated time that brought so much excitement and joy, a day that I will always describe as the best day and most painful day I have ever experienced in my whole life. She is everything to me. Why am I constantly feeling anxious, worried, overwhelmed. At times I feel like I don’t want to bother heading out to see anyone, or go to swimming lessons, or to the grocery store. It just feels so hard. I curse and I swear and I feel so much anger and frustration…but I go. I do it, I show up and I come back home and I am fine. But I was disconnected, not truly enjoying any of those moments because I was filled with such angst that I wish I could go back and relive all of those sweet moments again and again. I feel like I shit them away and spent way too much time suffering and looking back, I shouldn’t have.
This Will Be Different This Time
Then my boy. He came along and filled me up again with so much joy that I thought “okay, this will be different.” I will not succumb to other people's expectations of me (that I was quite possibly making up in my own mind), and I will speak. I will open up about how I am feeling and reach out if I need help. This time would be different. I will not be filled with anger, frustration and anxiousness and I will allow more sunshine into my life this time. It’s not that bad. I’ve spoken to my doctor. I don’t want to hurt my baby or anything. I don’t need help! I’m really not worthy of a serious look at any sort of mental evaluation. I have great days! I am okay! I’ve got this!
Sitting on the couch one night just a few months after having our son, I felt a large absence of hair on the top of my head. Oh no! I’m dying! Okay, okay, maybe it’s just very serious postpartum hair loss. It’s funny what your body does when it is screaming out at you to put yourself first and reach out for any life saving device that will keep you afloat. Well, she grew, she grew and she grew and grew until I was taken to a place that took me off my feet. Literally, standing in a classroom in front of a group of grade one’s I crumbled to my knees and had to be picked up from the school by my husband. Who truly didn’t understand what was happening to me. Doctors visits, a really bad flu, too much stress? All of these things were on the table. And indeed I was going back to work. It was Wednesday, I’ll be back on Monday.
Only Three Days
That is only three days of supply plans that someone would have to scramble to create. I would only really piss off three or four people who I wouldn’t provide a prep for at the school. This was too much. I had to get back to work. Being away was not the answer. Even the doctor said, in front of my husband, “the worst thing you can do is not go to work.” Well, it went from bad to worse. I mustered up enough energy to try and make it to a family birthday celebration. I was so dizzy and full of fear that I could not eat, drink or make eye contact with anyone. These are the moments that fill me with so much regret. I regret not treating myself fairly and seeking the help that I so badly needed so long ago.
The same night, I just needed to make it home to my bed, we packed up the kids and started to make our way home. It was a snowstorm, a blizzard, I could not see or focus on anything. I had lost total control. I panicked and pulled over where I sobbed and got out of the vehicle in a panic. My husband and I did the old switcheroo and I spent the rest of the ride home breathing and lying up and down to my children that “mommy was ok.” I was not okay, in fact I was far from it. That night I envisioned that switcheroo that my husband and I did on the side of the road in the blizzard, except this time…I didn’t switch. I watched myself get hit by an oncoming car and that was the end.
Take me to a padded room. I cannot be here anymore. This has to be the way it's going to end up. SO. FUCKING. SCARY. Get me away from my children, I cannot be trusted near them. This was my script. It has to be true. My mind had taken a full tail spin into a place that I didn’t know existed. When you go to this place, everything else disappears around you and you can no longer even hear a rational thought. One more day, and that’s it. I won’t live like this any longer than that. Upon reflection, those words taste so sour in my mouth that I could spit them out. There was nothing to cling to, but I had one life line. I made a phone call to my brand new therapist who I had finally started to see and do some deep work with. During the Christmas holidays, she had me come to her office and she let me know that she would hold my hand and walk me down to the hospital if I so wished. But then she looked me in the eye and asked me, “do you want to put yourself in front of a car?” My reaction was instant. No I did not. I was petrified of what entered my mind. She slowly chipped away at what was right in front of me. She explained that what happened was an intrusive thought, it was not a suicidal action. Okay, I had something to cling to. A freckle of hope. But now what…
It Was The Next Right Thing
“Jenna, if your daughter was feeling this way and was dealing with such a crisis what would you want her to do? Would you want her to go to work?” I had actually never thought about myself in a way that included so much love and care. Why do I not love myself the way I love my children? The next decision was one that I had to make quickly. With a little extra push from my mom, I decided not to go back to work. It was the next right thing. It was all I could do at the time. Put one foot in front of the other. My life is worth more than my job and I am so replaceable in that building. I am not replaceable at home and to my family. This seems so small now, but the idea is wide and needs to be remembered just as fresh as it was the day that I sat shaking in my mom's car. You are more than your work. You are more than your ability to produce. You are allowed to pause, break, wipe yourself clean and then fall again and end up at the bottom. You are allowed to not be ok. And it will not be this way forever. You deserve help. You are worthy of a crutch and a lifeline. Your life is worth more than any job, title, or amount of money. The decision I made following a trip to the doctor was the next right thing. I would try to give myself something that I deserved. I deserve to not suffer from anxiety that is keeping me from doing the things that I love. I deserve to have a chance at having clear thoughts and the ability to make decisions without crumbling to my knees. I deserve medication that can help my brain function as best as it can in order to live a fulfilling life as a mother, wife, sister, daughter, teacher and friend. It was the next right thing.
Walking…the next right thing.
Breathing…the next right thing.
Showering…the next right thing.
Eating…the next right thing.
Talking…the next right thing.
Yoga…the next right thing.
This was the focus. These tiny things that helped me to lift the clouds away from my eyes were all the next right things that I had to do. Not work, not make time for anyone else, not provide answers that just placed a lovely little blanket on top of a huge problem. Me. I needed to come back to myself and putting myself first. Treating myself as if I were my daughter. Standing up for what I needed just as if I needed it for her. I wanted that person to get better so desperately. She needed love and care and time. And that is what I gave to her. Childhood trauma, two major life transitions, pressures of living fully while trying to raise little humans, these are all huge things that we often don’t allow ourselves to feel validated about. They are hard. Life is hard, but we have to realize when our bodies are screaming out from the rooftops, something has to be done. We have to love and care for ourselves just as we would our children, or the most precious loved one in your life.
Moments in time are like little pieces of a puzzle that shape the way your life is meant to unfold. Who cares what the shape is or how much ground it covers. It’s beautiful and amazing in its own way. Leaning into the bad and reminding myself that it is only one piece is something that I am still learning to do. The big pieces that change you for the better are great and they can create new meaning in your life, but the bad ones are there too. They deserve light and love in a different way. Leaning into the times where we find ourselves on the floor can be hard, but so fulfilling after the storm has cleared. Leaning in was the next right thing. Helping myself to climb out of darkness as each moment passed by was the next right thing. I will always embrace the times where my body is shouting out to stop and care for what it is in front of me. I deserve it and my life will now be full of little pieces that are all loved and cared for.
Written by Jenna Gouveia
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