G and I went to see a therapist this past week. I had asked him to join me for that session regarding my anxiety. We went to try and brainstorm ideas for helping me work through my overwhelming separation anxiety, and just my craziness in general.
The session went well. I was logical. We came up with a reasonable plan of me being exposed to stressors to the amount that I could handle. I was encouraged.
Then G brought a snowmobile home.
See, I have this thing where I’m convinced that if he goes snowmobiling, he’s going to be hurt on the mountain, end up stranded, and ultimately die. Then I will be left alone and unable to cope. It’s not reasonable, it’s not rational, and it 10 out of 10 controls my life.
This intense fear stems from years of psychological trauma from my last marriage. My therapist says it’s a left over piece of me that’s still trying to protect me. My mind is trying to help me survive, but it feels like it’s trying to kill me.
I started out our Saturday morning relatively cheerful and upbeat. We had discussed G bringing home a sled to tinker on with the boys. I thought I would be ok. After all, it was just in the garage, he wasn’t going anywhere, everything would be fine.
Everything was not fine.
The sound of it. I couldn’t handle the sound. It made me want to scream and cry and punch something and run away. It terrified me.
The smell of the exhaust. I couldn’t bear that smell. It made me taste G’s imminent death on that mountain.
I lost it. I was suddenly unable to cope with making lunch for the kids. Instead I was huddled in the kitchen sobbing into G’s arms about what a failure I was. After all, if I can’t even handle the sound of a sled, how in the world am I going to handle him taking one into the mountains.
I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t stop crying. I couldn’t stop shaking. I thought I was going to be sick.
I texted my best friend who also struggles with anxiety and she helped me calm down. She gets how anxiety takes over your brain and your body and doesn’t let go without a massive struggle.
I’m still not sure how I’m supposed to do this…