Trauma, Triggers, and Just Trying to Deal

It's been three years since my final breast reconstruction surgery. That year we scheduled it for the first week the kids went back to school after the summer. I'd spent the previous several months making the best of our summer all while still recovering from my bilateral mastectomy and living with tissue expanders solid as rocks in my chest. My muscles didn't yet function normally (and still don't), I was still experiencing tremendous nerve pain. My emotional healing hadn't even begun. I was solidly in the anger and sadness stages of grief. It was a bizarre time. And it was exactly three years ago.

Three years sounds like a long time. And I thought it felt like a long time until this week. I just didn't see it coming, but yesterday it hit me like a freight train. When I was diagnosed, our son was 8 years old and in the second grade. His teacher was absolutely precious and has become one of my most admired people on earth. And she walked the cancer journey with me. I hardly remember the second half of that school year because so much of it was consumed with appointments, surgery, recovery, and procedures. I didn't realize how many feelings were tied to that classroom, this precious teacher, that missing time and experience as room mom. Three years later I'm back in that space. My daughter has the same teacher and classroom. It's an absolute blessing. I'm room mom again and it feels like my opportunity for a re-do of the year I lost with my son in that room. Not until I sat with my counselor yesterday and the tears started flowing did I realize what a huge trigger this first week of school would be. Being back in that space, remembering telling their sweet teachers about my diagnosis, seeing them cry and pray and worry for us all -- the memories and feelings are overwhelming right now.

To add to the anxiety-inducing memories is the fact that every three years I need an MRI to rule out implant rupture. My irrational brain has gone into panic mode -- what if they find something wrong? What if they find additional cancer? What if? What if? What if? My rational brain knows everything is fine. I'm healthy. There are likely random cancer cells in my body and I have no control over that other than to be as healthy as possible. So I try to eat right, exercise, and be mindful of my thoughts and actions. But it's hard, friends.

This week among the flood of back-to-school practicalities, I'm giving myself permission to freak out a little. I've been through something big and that's never going to change. It's ok to grieve what I lost and will never get back. It's ok to be mindful of future risks but it's also good to be grounded in reality. My cancer will most likely not return. There are so many women who don't get to say that. I'm thankful that I do. But I just need a little space to open my heart and brain and be mindful of what I've been through. Getting the thoughts out on this blog helps a lot. I hope that others will read it and no matter what their trauma or triggers you'll realize you're not alone. There are millions of us out here relating.

Living with Anxiety

Lyrics:

Anxiety
How do you always get the best of me?
I'm out here living in a fantasy
I can't enjoy a goddamn thing
Anxiety
Why am I never where I am supposed to be?
Even with my lover sleeping close to me
I'm wide awake and I'm in pain

Watching the sunrise slash through the blinds
Dust in the room hovers over mine
Lying here in silence
Wife and child still sleeping deep enough to dream
And oh, I'm a lucky man today
But so afraid that time will take it all from me

Anxiety
How do you always get the best of me?
I'm out here living in a fantasy
I can't enjoy a goddamn thing
Anxiety
Why am I never where I am supposed to be?
Even with my lover sleeping close to me
I'm wide awake and I'm in pain

It's the weight of the world
But it's nothing at all
Light as a prayer, and then I feel myself fall
You got to give me a minute
Because I'm way down in it
And I can't breathe so I can't speak
I want to be strong and steady, always ready
Now, I feel so small, I feel so weak

Anxiety
How do you always get the best of me?
I'm out here living in a fantasy
I can't enjoy a goddamn thing
Anxiety
Why am I never where I am supposed to be?
Even with my lover sleeping close to me
I'm wide awake and I'm in a pain

A crowded room is a burning battlefield
If I don't move, I'll come undone
My heart beats harder, a hammer striking steel
Will I walk now or be a "Wait and Run"?

Anxiety
How do you always get the best of me?
I'm out here living in a fantasy
I can't enjoy a goddamn thing
Anxiety
Why am I never where I am supposed to be?
Even with my lover sleeping close to me
I'm wide awake and I'm in pain
I'm wide awake and I'm in pain
I'm wide awake and I'm in pain

When I first heard this song I was floored. I'd never heard anxiety so perfectly described. The line about "out here living in a fantasy" really resonates with me. My anxiety is never more apparent than when my life is going really well. Doesn't make sense, does it? For those of us with clinical anxiety (a chemical imbalance in the brain) versus situational anxiety (massive stressors in life), even when life is perfect we still struggle. Like the song above describes, we lie awake and feel pain for no reason. Our brain tells us lies and works in overdrive 24/7. We see a car swerve in front of us and immediately start planning our own funeral for after the inevitable wreck that's about to happen. And these thoughts happen all day every day. It's a miserable way to live. Other times it's like a gray smog. The harsh, extreme thoughts may not be there but there's a dullness in our brain, like a cloud hanging over every minute. We do the things we love, surrounded by those we love, and yet it doesn't bring joy. It just passes time. Currently I'm somewhere in between the extreme thoughts stage and the grayness. My brain has adjusted to the euphoria of my new meds, the ease and excitement they provided in my life. And now it's time to visit the reality of what's working, what's not, and what needs to be adjusted. It's hard. It's really hard. I just got back from an epic girls trip with SJ and though I look at the activities and time we spent together and logically know that it was an awesome trip, I kind of feel like that "meh" emoji from the popular new movie (which we watched and liked). I expected euphoric highs over fun adventures but all I got was gray. It's so very frustrating. I have hope that things will be better, possibly even soon. Maybe even today or tomorrow. Because that's what anxiety also is. Good days and bad. And it's usually unpredictable. At least this is my experience. So why share all of this here? Because so many people struggle with it and we don't talk enough about it -- in adults and even more so in children. And they experience the same thing. Did you know that? I know because I've experienced it all my life and now my son is in the same boat. I hate that for him but at least I know what it is and he's been getting the help he needs for a while now. So let's be there for each other. Let's admit that we struggle too. And if you read this and have no idea what I'm talking about that's awesome. I'm sure there are other struggles you have. And we can talk about those as well. I suppose I'm tired of the silence. There's a difference between privacy and hiding. Let's make a promise not to hide.