I debated sharing this. I knew I needed to get it out in some form, whether talking about it or writing it out. I'll probably end up talking more to my parents, but for now this works.
We went to my auntie's house yesterday to spend the day with them, go swimming, and get out of the 100+ heat. (They live closer to the coast so it's about ten degrees cooler) We played "volleyball" in the pool with the beach balls which was lots of fun. Made me remember all the fun times playing at our last two houses which had pools. We sat around the table and ate some bomb Mexican food for dinner. After that I laid down for a while because I was tired and felt kinda off. I hadn't been feeling well all day, and really for the last couple of days.We ended up leaving a little while later after they had eaten cheesecake for dessert! I'm jealous now, but at the time I didn't care. We got in the car where I proceeded to lay down in the back. We weren't on the road very long before this feeling came over me. I felt anxious. I was trying to take long, deep breaths but it wasn't working very well. I felt sick to my stomach and my head felt like it would explode. I wished that my head was bigger in order to contain the way it felt inside. It's a hard feeling to explain. I told my mom that I didn't feel good and I felt sick. I asked her to hold my hand. I started crying at one point I think. I can't remember all the details though cuz it was just horrible. I pressed my head against her arm as I held on to it. My dad pulled off the freeway so she could get in the back with me but we ended up getting out and walking a little bit. By this point, I am shaking, my legs are wobbly, my head wants to explode(it didn't quite hurt, it just felt like a lot of pressure), I feel sick to my stomach, and am praying and praying that I will be ok. Mom walks slowly with me as we hold each other around the waist. I decide I need to go to the bathroom so we walk down the little ravine that was there and went behind the bushes. When we first pulled to the side of the road, mom and I both thought the place my dad chose was a bad one but it ended up being the best place. Down the little ravine, behind the bushes there was privacy. At some point she held onto me and we hugged tightly as she prayed for me. I was really freaking out. (Rereading this last part, I don't feel like it does the justice of how I felt. I was freakin scared.)I end up calming down enough that I think we could try and make it home. Mom gets in the back seat with me with a blanket covering my legs and I lay my arm against the front seats and rest my head on it. My eyes were shut for a while as we continued to drive on and I tried to breathe deep and hummed to keep myself calm. I asked my dad to stop a little bit later so I could use the restroom again and we went to a gas station. I tried to throw up but couldn't. We headed on the road again and every second that passed I thought to myself, ok we're making progress. Getting a little further, a little closer to home. My eyes were shut most of the time as I leaned my head back on the seat or on mom's shoulder, but I could still see the blur of lights beyond my closed eyelids. I covered my eyes with my hand so I wouldn't see them, and later with a wet papertowel from the bathroom. Certain things throughout the whole ordeal would come to mind, and it would make my breathing worse or freak me out and I needed to stop and think about something else. I asked them to tell me a story or anything just to get my mind off of stuff. My dad told some stuff from when he was a kid but I told him to stop in the middle because his voice sounded so loud. We eventually got home later than expected obviously. When I saw the time, I realized that I really had no sense of the time passing as we drove. A lot of it is sorta a blur and I can't believe it happened. Mom slept on the floor in my room to make sure that I'd be ok throughout the night. I was, although I got up three times in the night and felt wide awake at each.
So with that lovely retelling of the events that occurred last night, done and over with, here I am. Evaluating things, thinking of the future, praying desperately that I never have to experience that ever again. But still being scared that it might happen. There have been moments since I got home(from Wisconsin), where I feel my breaths shorten and my heart rate goes up. Driving back towards the school, looking at the baseball fields was one time. And another which is a big reason of why certain parts of last night sucked and was made worse, the fear of dying. I've told people before, and I don't care how much I believe that I will go to heaven and be with the Lord for eternity, the thought of not existing here. scares. the. hell. out. of. me. No reassuring words are going to change that. Last week or a few days ago, I don't remember, after reading a memoir where the author deals with life during and after losing her mom to cancer, I had a mini little freak out. The thought of dying and not being here anymore scares me to death(ha!) It felt like my room was closing in around me, I had to focus on breathing right, and put my mind on something else to get distracted. It only lasted about a minute or two. It's not the first time that's happened but it was the longest, normally it's only a few seconds. And so with that said, this was on my mind last night as I was freaking out. With how my head felt, and how my body was reacting, I felt like I was dying and that scared me and only made it worse. Here I was, on the side of a busy street (cars rushing by only made me feel more anxious and they seemed so loud), clutching to my mother, panicking, and pleading with God to let me get through this somehow. I really thought that was going to be the end of it, and I was not ok with that happening. I'm not saying that I was going to die and that I clutched onto life and God let me have it. All I'm saying is that is the way it felt to me in the moment and it was the scariest thing I've ever experienced.
Sorry mom and dad for making you relive this, but I wanted to write it out. Maybe I shouldn't have done it publicly... but o well. This blog is called a candid portrait right? Why should I want to hide the exciting/hard/scary things? To everyone else, I am doing fine now but pray that this won't become a problem, because I never want to experience it again.
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