When Peace Seems Out of Reach

Brace Yourself...

I'm feeling a bit honest. :)

It was 1:15 AM when I woke up last night. I heard Cohen scratching on his door so I flung the covers off and walked into his room to grab him. I picked him up and lay down with him in my bed. He cuddled close to me and smiled.

And then, for some odd reason I began to sweat. A lot.

I began to worry if I had a fever again (seriously, this infection won’t leave my body) and the thought of going through another night of night sweats began to terrify me. I sat up in bed and rubbed my hands through my hair.

My hands were soaked with sweat.

I crawled out of bed to get a drink of water and as I walked I couldn’t feel the ground underneath me. I was holding onto the wall as my heart beat out of my chest. I could hear it beating in my toes, my hands, and my stomach…

I struggled to get back to Zac. I woke him up and showed him how fast my heart was beating and how much I was sweating. I was so caught up in the moment that when Zac grabbed my arms and said “Mackenzie, are you anxious about anything?”

I moved away from him.

Was I really having a panic attack?

I ran from the room to the kitchen. I didn’t want anyone to see me like this.

I wasn’t sick: I was having a panic attack.

My heart beat fiercely in my chest. For any of you that have had a panic attack, doctors describe it as the closest thing to having a heart attack. And it was.

I knew all the things I had to do: Control Breathing, Find a Picture to Focus on, Contain Your Thoughts, Release Your Fear…

But at 1:30 in the morning everything is hazy and nothing seems to make sense. I was shaking violently when Cohen came out of our room to see what was going on. Zac escorted him back to our bed and told him “Mommy is sick, let’s pray for her ok?” Then I could hear faintly the whispers of a little boy praying for his mommy.

And there I sat on the steps rocking and trembling. All I could think is: Get a Grip Mackenzie, Get a Grip Mackenzie, GET A GRIP!!! PULL IT TOGETHER!!

My mind was racing and I couldn’t bring my mind back to a place where it was sound. Zac was still lying with Cohen when I stumbled into Cohen’s bedroom and lay on the floor. My breathing had grown deeper, my heart had slowed the pace but I was wired. My head was racing. I rocked myself in front of a heater as my limbs were still shaking.

A panic attack is a violent experience.

A wave of nausea swept over me as I lay on the floor. My shirt moist with sweat and my hands clammy and cold. When Cohen fell asleep Zac watched me as I stared into the heater. I had no words. I had nothing to say. I wasn’t even in reality. I couldn’t’ explain why it had happened. I couldn’t explain why anxiety happens to me.

It just does.

Zac watched me as I zoned off into another world. My mind would not stop. It was those old arcade games when the ball gets shot off into every direction. My physical symptoms may have stopped after 28 minutes but my mind raced for another 3 hours.

I told Zac I needed to be alone for a while and apologized for waking him up. I had nothing to say to him. Or to Cohen for that matter.

This was my own battle.

I stared at the heater and looked down at my phone: 3:15am. I had been staring off into nothingness for almost two hours. I couldn’t sleep. I rested my head on the floor and grabbed one of Cohen’s baby blankets to put over myself.

I wish I could have cried, but I couldn’t.

Tears wouldn’t come even if I tried. I was completely numb.

I began to demand God for peace and demand that I can’t keep living like this. I felt dizzy and out of sorts but the adrenaline from hours earlier lingered in my body.

I put on worship music to try to ease my nerves but nothing was working. Nothing was working and I felt that no one was there. My mind was running around trying to make sense of what was going on. I couldn’t focus my thoughts long enough before I began to feel nauseated again.

Do you ever feel like you are being tested?

I lay in Cohen’s bed and looked at the time: 4:12am. I knew I was exhausted but my body was not done with me yet.

Cohen was God’s grace to me when my life was out of control. God woke me up by allowing me to birth Cohen.

What are you waking me up to now God?

I find that my life works in extremes. Since I have been on bed rest for almost a week now my mind has been racing far more than it should. The pressure of not being able to go to school and not being able to work has worn me down.

I don’t know how to convey this message without sounding like a victim. I have always battled a looming sense of fear that I won’t live to see Cohen grow up, I won’t be able to grow old with Zac and I will never be free of the self loathing that beats me down.

I know I’m not the only person who walks through this.

I love my life, my family, my school and my job but for some reason my body can’t handle it. My body is telling me that I have to make a change.

I don’t know how to do that. At all.

I finally fell asleep only to wake up 2 hours later to take Cohen to school. We didn’t talk the entire ride to school. As I got him out of the car he asked “You ok mom?”

I answered honestly…

“I’m not sure Cohen. I hope so.”

Today I still feel the remnants of last night. I am lethargic and still sick from my infection. My body screams STOP but my life screams GO.

I have no idea where the balance of my life is anymore. I don’t know what it means to be a healthy and whole human being when it comes to health. I don’t think I’m crazy but I don’t think I’m well.

It’s a journey… and God knows.