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This past week has been one of the worst weeks I have had in a while. I got an exam back, and I didn’t do too hot. I felt lonely at school. My anxiety had been through the roof. I was doubting myself more than usual. I took all my anger out on my family, the people I love the most. Ugh… We all have hard days, weeks, months and even years. Hard parts are part of being human, but during these hard times, we should strive to let love in–rather than push love away. My eight-year-old brother was in a freak accident yesterday and it put a lot of things into perspective for me. It was the reminder I so deeply needed after not being my best self all week.
So yes, as I said my week was not so fabulous. What really set me off was when I was told 24 hours before coming home
that my high-school brother had moved into my bedroom. I was not too happy, to say the least. I have been very spoiled being the only girl in the house so I was given the biggest room. My brother decided that since I would not be living at home this summer it was time for him to move on in. I won’t go into details but I am embarrassed about the way I reacted. I did and said things to my parents and my brother because I felt hurt. I wanted them to feel the hurt that I was going through. In reality, it was ok for me to be hurt, but I had no right to try and hurt them. I find that I often hold my emotions inside and eventually something will set me off (even if it is something not too serious, like my brother moving into the bedroom I never use.) This bottling up does not work well. And so, retrospectively I declare to myself that I always need a safe place, someone to talk to, someone to vent to and someone to validate my feelings.
After my diva moment, I did not talk to my mom for two days. (That is a long time for me because she is my absolute best friend and I usually call her on average five times a day.) All she wanted to do was talk through things and give me a hug. She said she just wanted to, “love me up.” I kept pushing her away. I wanted to show her how hurt I was and because she didn’t understand. I now
realize that it would not have mattered if she understood. She still would have been there to love me and just listen.
This past semester has been pretty busy for me and I decided that I was going to quit my talk therapy. I figured my anxiety had been under control and I felt really happy with my life. Well, folks, I wish I could go back a few months and shake myself awake. Talking with a therapist is fine–even when everything is fine! We need to have that relationship in place when things seem fine so that the relationship is in place when things are about to blow up. Whether it be your mom, best friend, a therapist or whoever, we need to have these connections in our life through good times and bad.
As the week was coming to a close I sat at my table for one last family dinner. I was thinking about how I needed to apologize to my high school brother for how I treated him. About this time, my youngest brother snuck out to play in the snow. Suddenly, a massive chunk of ice fell from the roof and trapped him. My dad called my high school brothers to help him remove the ice. My mom held my trapped brother’s head out of the snow. And I called 911. The firefighters arrived and helped my family finish freeing our youngest child from the ice. He was battered and bruised but really only ended up with a concussion.
The traumatic episode helped me to reflect. I pictured everyone fighting to save our little guy. I sensed the amount of love that was gathered in a snowbank digging and trying to free our brother. I saw my family come together and literally save one of our own. Families are ready, willing and able to do that. But nobody would have been there to help Quinn if he had not called out for help. My dad heard his cry and gathered the rest of us. And together, we saved a member of our family.
Looking back at my quitting therapy, and my blow-up with my family, and then this traumatic event with my little brother; I better understood something. It is ok to call out for help. A friend, a therapist, a whole family or your mom will probably be there to “love you up” and help you get through it with only a few bruises.
