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How I Got Up Out of Bed Again.
I won’t go into details, but in October, 2001, I became a widow through one of the most horrid events of my life. I turned 31 a Widow and after my family went back to Oklahoma, I went to bed.
At the time I was unemployed and didn’t care. I had cats and they don’t care if you’re up or down as long as the litter box is clean and they have food. So I stayed in bed, only getting up to eat when I had to, only taking a shower when I might be going out in public and not really caring.
My doctor had put me on Zoloft and Atavan since while I was in the bed, I didn’t sleep, I just stared at the walls. Counseling didn’t seem to help a whole lot, I would go home and crawl back under the covers and stay there. I honestly considered suicide, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t do to my family what my husband had done to me.
One of my dearest friends brought me a stuffed frog, and reminded me that I wasn’t alone, and of all the things that I’d gone through and made it past and how I did it.
I took that advise and looked at it long and hard, and realized that it would work.
I didn’t look at the rest of my life, the next year, the next month, week, day or even minute. I looked as far ahead as it would take for my heart to beat just one single time. That’s not very long at all. And since my heart rate was over 60/minute, it wasn’t even looking one second ahead. And I would tell myself if I can get up and stay out of this bed for one heartbeat, I can do it. And then another one would pass and another one, and before I realize it, I’d been up out of bed for a minute, and then an hour.
I kept this up through the holidays, finally bringing myself to look at the day to day things I needed to do to survive, but it still seemed impossible. But I kept “faking it†making myself try until one day I had a wake up call. I had a green light and a little car, and a dump truck blew the red light. I remember seeing the truck and I thought it would be so easy to end it all, then I stomped on the breaks so hard that I thought I had broken my foot from the pressure. And I stopped. I realized that it would be easy, but I wanted to live. Three months of not looking any further than the next heartbeat, and I wanted to look further ahead.
I stopped the medication on my own, very slowly and didn’t tell my doctor or councilor. Eventually I stopped going without a word.
I realized that I am worthwhile, and a good person and what happened to me wasn’t my fault. That I wasn’t alone, no matter how bad it felt. That nothing is insurmountable if I look one heartbeat ahead.
This October was a tough one, don’t let anyone tell you that the first year is the hardest, because you’re too numb to care. It’s the next ones in which you realize what you’ve lost. But also what you’ve gained. I discovered that I was ready to move on, and take back control of my life, and my size. And I am. Daily, baby step by baby step. Small battles almost every day with Atkins, but I’m winning each small battle.
I know I’ll never be the carefree girl I was at 30, but I think the new me is going to be even better.
I won’t go into details, but in October, 2001, I became a widow through one of the most horrid events of my life. I turned 31 a Widow and after my family went back to Oklahoma, I went to bed.
At the time I was unemployed and didn’t care. I had cats and they don’t care if you’re up or down as long as the litter box is clean and they have food. So I stayed in bed, only getting up to eat when I had to, only taking a shower when I might be going out in public and not really caring.
My doctor had put me on Zoloft and Atavan since while I was in the bed, I didn’t sleep, I just stared at the walls. Counseling didn’t seem to help a whole lot, I would go home and crawl back under the covers and stay there. I honestly considered suicide, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t do to my family what my husband had done to me.
One of my dearest friends brought me a stuffed frog, and reminded me that I wasn’t alone, and of all the things that I’d gone through and made it past and how I did it.
I took that advise and looked at it long and hard, and realized that it would work.
I didn’t look at the rest of my life, the next year, the next month, week, day or even minute. I looked as far ahead as it would take for my heart to beat just one single time. That’s not very long at all. And since my heart rate was over 60/minute, it wasn’t even looking one second ahead. And I would tell myself if I can get up and stay out of this bed for one heartbeat, I can do it. And then another one would pass and another one, and before I realize it, I’d been up out of bed for a minute, and then an hour.
I kept this up through the holidays, finally bringing myself to look at the day to day things I needed to do to survive, but it still seemed impossible. But I kept “faking it†making myself try until one day I had a wake up call. I had a green light and a little car, and a dump truck blew the red light. I remember seeing the truck and I thought it would be so easy to end it all, then I stomped on the breaks so hard that I thought I had broken my foot from the pressure. And I stopped. I realized that it would be easy, but I wanted to live. Three months of not looking any further than the next heartbeat, and I wanted to look further ahead.
I stopped the medication on my own, very slowly and didn’t tell my doctor or councilor. Eventually I stopped going without a word.
I realized that I am worthwhile, and a good person and what happened to me wasn’t my fault. That I wasn’t alone, no matter how bad it felt. That nothing is insurmountable if I look one heartbeat ahead.
This October was a tough one, don’t let anyone tell you that the first year is the hardest, because you’re too numb to care. It’s the next ones in which you realize what you’ve lost. But also what you’ve gained. I discovered that I was ready to move on, and take back control of my life, and my size. And I am. Daily, baby step by baby step. Small battles almost every day with Atkins, but I’m winning each small battle.
I know I’ll never be the carefree girl I was at 30, but I think the new me is going to be even better.
- Redheaded giRlie giRl. 146/135/125, 5'6"
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