“Right after brushing my teeth, I put on a bunch of toothpaste all over my face, chest, and back. I was a minty mess. I hid in high cut shirts and makeup. Anxiety became my best friend.”
- Love What Matters
- Family
“Right after brushing my teeth, I put on a bunch of toothpaste all over my face, chest, and back. I was a minty mess. I hid in high cut shirts and makeup. Anxiety became my best friend.”
“I’d have to wash my hands at least six times or I started believing somebody was going to die. I’d sit in my room and cry for hours. I felt watched and trapped in this space. At some point, I felt anxious even leaving my house.”
“I see a narrow spot on the road and suddenly I see myself losing control and our vehicle rolling over and over. I wonder if we would survive or if I would have to live with causing an accident that took my children’s lives. It keeps me up at night, makes me a wreck all day.”
“He said, ‘Ma’am, we have an unidentified man with head trauma coming in, I’m sure it is your husband.’ At that moment, I was escorted by a solemn social worker to a small, littered room. A room meant to allow family members to react to what they would tell me in private. I went downstairs to hold our daughter when she woke up. I told her in an age-appropriate manner what had happened to Daddy, and what our next step would be. She held me and calmly said, ‘I know Daddy will be okay.’ Your kids DESERVE the TRUTH.”
“I didn’t even let my now-husband look at my stomach for a YEAR. I closed my eyes and waited to hear his groan in disgust. I felt his big hand rub across my stomach.”
“‘I’m sorry, but there’s no heartbeat.’ She told me I had to deliver her, but I didn’t want to. I thought if I could keep her inside of me, if I could just keep carrying her, then maybe she’d be okay. Part of me thought they got it wrong, she’d come out crying. But she didn’t.”
“I had anxiety attacks for years. I buried everything. It made the pain worse and the healing more intense. I’ve realized I can be both happy and sad, loved and lonely, hurting and healing, all at the same time.”
“Could I escape from this prison of disordered eating, self-hatred, and destructive pursuit of weight loss? Would I ever find love? My knees ached as I shakily got up off the cold tile floor. I couldn’t keep living like this.”
“‘You’re gay, you’re gay.” My thoughts were constant. But I needed to start a family. I told myself I’d stop thinking about being gay if I had a kid.”
“I was convinced I’d be judged based on my hands and feet. I made every effort to conceal my hands. I’d wear a cardigan to hide my scars. I wanted as little attention drawn to me as possible.”