With a Capital A

I think I started to get Anxiety, right around 7th grade. It wasn’t anything debilitating, but it was able to enter my brain, hold my thoughts, and even warp them for periods of time.

You know that part in Ghostbusters when the guys have to think of NOTHING because anything they think of will come to life and then someone thinks of the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man and he starts chasing them? That’s how anxiety takes over my thoughts. It’s the only way I can describe it.


Last week Leah fell into the pool. I was all the way on the other side. I jumped in and swam to her in a frantic rush as she bobbed up and down in the water. At one point, right before I reached her, our eyes met. Hers showed pure terror. I am fairly certain that mine did too. But, I knew what I was doing. I was saving her. She had no idea what was going on. She was completely helpless.



I finally reached her and got her out of the pool. I managed to climb out myself and take off my soaked cover-up and hang it on the fence. I could barely speak. I was having a hard time breathing. I think I kept saying it’s ok, it’s ok, over and over again, but I’m not sure.


I wanted to burst into tears. I wanted to grab her and hug her so tight and tell her that I was never going to let her go. I just wanted to scream and cry and freak out, but I knew that was the worst possible way to act in this situation. So, as I attempted to calm down and catch my breath, I said things like, Oooh, let’s get back in the pool! Let’s practice jumping to mommy.


She was silent the whole time. She knew that something different, (wrong?, bad?) had happened, but she wasn’t sure how she should react. I know that my ability to hide how damn scared I was was imperative in keeping her calm and unafraid.


She was concerned over the fact that I had jumped in with a dress on. But, other than that, she just followed me and let me hold her and hug her briefly and then we got back into the pool together and started playing. I knew it was important to get right back into the pool to avoid any future water fear.


But my water fear is now alive and present. And for days I couldn’t talk about the event and could only see her terrified eyes in my head when I closed my eyes at night. I am having a hard time focusing on the fact that we avoided a huge and devastating event and being relieve about it. Instead, I am engrossed with what could have happened. What would have happened if I wasn’t there. What would have happened if I didn’t get there fast enough. And it’s leaking into other events of my life. Last night I almost had to stop doing laps in my pool because I was convinced I was going to break my neck on the side of the pool and drown to death.


My anxiety is now in full force. Every time I try to think about something else, I start thinking about how this situation could have gone. I think about horrible terrible things and it’s difficult to get these thoughts out of my mind. As much as I try to just clear my head of all bad thoughts, I just can’t.


When my mom died, I started having these really morbid thoughts. Thoughts about getting into car accidents, having problems with my pregnancy, losing other family members.


I’ve thought for a few years that this anxiety started with the death of my mother, but lately I’ve been thinking about the past and my childhood, and I think that this started back in grade school.


But I’ll save those stories for another day.
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