There was once a time where time stood still, where I didn’t
know how on earth it would be anything more than it was. I was being tormented
by my own mind. It was not my own, but belonged to my mental illness. I didn’t
see it ever being mine again. I was so very very broken.
I tried my best to appear to have it together. I was living
the dream. I was in nursing school, which I had worked so hard to get into. I
had the perfect family. On the outside, things were great.
On the inside I struggled to make my mind shut off. It would repeat the visions of my last birth over and over. I couldn’t do it anymore. Multiple times I wanted to run my car off the side of the road. It happened so much that I hated driving by myself because I was scared one day I would actually do it. I thought about leaving my husband and my girls because they didn’t deserve to have a crazy mom or wife who was incapable of being anything else. I was damaged. If I didn’t love myself, how could others?
Well, apparently I had a lot of people in my corner that I
failed to see. They are what carried me
through it. It was the teacher who said, it will get better just give it time.
I wanted to slap her so bad and say “no it won’t. There is no way that I could
possibly get better.” I had a friend who
let me call her and just cry for no apparent reason. I had a husband who,
regardless of what I did to him, loved me and told me that we will get through
this. I had family, though they didn’t understand my torment (mainly due to my
lack of opening up) who tried to help in any way possible. I had a Savior who I
knew knew what it felt like to be in my pain. Whenever I felt as if no one
understood what I was going through I was constantly reminded that He did. They
were there when my accident happened. They gave me a second chance in life. They
would listen to my cries of anguish. These are the people who carried me
through the darkness.
As I take on a new chapter of healing I can’t help but see
the support system I actually had in place that I failed to see. One day, if
Heavenly Father is willing, I will give birth again. I will need to rely on
them once again. I am scared to death that something disastrous will happen to
my baby or me. This is something that I will have to come to terms with when the
time comes. Time is no longer stagnant for me. Things are changing. My mind is
my own again. I pray that this continues and that I remain free of my captor. I
pray that I can carry someone of their darkest days. But most importantly, I
pray for hope, because without it, I would not be here.
