What I really wanted to do was take the dog for a run until every muscle was so exhausted I couldn't feel anything but the burning of my lungs. However, I couldn't do that, I'm SUPER MOM (said in loud booming voice.) I had told my youngest Beloved I would take him to see Arthur Christmas and I always do what I say. As I was driving into town on the narrow two lane road my body was on auto pilot. I felt like I wanted to wash my body with bleach inside and out. I knew I was a train wreak, trying to keep the repressed memory, well repressed, but repressed memories are like new born babies, they come out when they want to, and once out they never go back in.... changing you in new ways.
As I was driving a mini van driver (the bane of my existence) pulled out in front of me. What's the problem? I had my cruise control set at the speed limit of 65, the mini van driver cut me off with a top speed of 35 miles per hour. Instead of slamming on my breaks I sped up planning on passing the driver. You might think this was the right thing to do, however it wasn't because there was on coming traffic. (Remember narrow two lane road.) Because I was already in a bad place I remember thinking screw it, I'll go three wide.
From the moment I said screw it, I couldn't hear anything. Not the radio. Not the car. It was pure silence. I saw the cars coming, the mini van sped up irritated with me thinking I would back down. As the on coming car was about to pass me I remember thinking shouldn't I be scared? Seconds after I passed the on coming car doing about 80 mph I heard my youngest Beloved in the back seat say, "Whoa."
See I forgot he was in the car in my disassociated bubble. The sound of his voice made me flinch which took me towards the side of the mini van. I remember there was a second I closed my eyes and simply thought GOD. I couldn't get more of a payer out of my brain. Only that the one word. I felt a jolt sure I'd hit the mini van; only I hadn't. I passed him and pulled back into my line slowing down.
All the sounds came crashing in on me in an instant. The radio, the engine, the tires on the road, the wind, my youngest Beloved's breathing. Then it hit me. I almost killed my beloved. I almost killed two other innocent families because of my anger, outrage, and shame. Tears streaked down my face as I silently sobbed the rest of the way into town.
How could I do that? How could I risk so much? What kind of person am I?
The books, the therapist, the meds they don't seem to be helping. I have a diary but I'm afraid someone I love and care about, like one of my Beloveds will stumble upon it and read it. I don't want them to know how crazy I really am, especially since I'm the sanest person in there lives. Shudder. So I've decided to conduct this blog as my personal experiment. If I can freely say what I'm thinking and feeling without worrying about what friends and family will think, will it help? Will writing let out the horrible and unthinkable that I can't bring myself to verbalize?
I want to get better. I don't want to survive life, I want to live it. So I'm going to give this a shot and see what happens.
Just finished reading the whole thing, but in backwards order. Not sure if I was breathing whilst reading it all, but let out a big breath... almost a sigh of relief... when I was done. The only thought right now is "You are going to be okay." (Also, I think it is a good thing that you just happen to be allergic to anti-depressants.)
ReplyDeleteI just re-read this after publishing your post. I guess it does make you hold your breath a few times. It's hard now that I'm in a less dark place to think that was actually me. That I could do something so stupid and risk the life of my Beloved.
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