Have you ever felt

like you’re losing your mind,

that people around you were distant,

unkind.

Or maybe you thought

you’d never be sane,

that life as you knew it,

would not be the

same.

Leaving the house

was a terrible fright,

wrought with emotions

that didn’t feel

right.

Or dreaming bad things,

of bodies broken,

put in bags, words not

spoken.

Nothing was right,

the day you had died,

I lost my ambition,

all I did was

cry.

Medicines helped,

I could live without fear,

live without worry,

live without

tears.

It’s a struggle that’s true,

a big battle within,

never seeming to end,

never seeming to

win.

So excuse me I beg,

If I seem not quite well,

I’ve lost my dear parents,

does it show?

Can you tell?

 

“In loving memory of my parents, David and Irene Eddy.”

I wrote this poem because I don’t believe anyone really knew what a terrible battle I had going on. Even to myself I wasn’t sure what was happening. I only knew that I was scared.

It started when my mother died. I was so grief stricken throughout her ordeal, up until the day she died, that I had gone down to a mere 99 pounds. Was I scared of the weight loss? Yes. I was sick, mentally and physically, that I was off balance, most likely due to the weight loss.

I also was scared to go anywhere far, mostly on vacations. I didn’t know why, couldn’t explain the reason for it, but I pushed it aside and made myself go, but under loads of stress. This was more evident when I decided to go on a canoe trip without my husband and children. I wanted to go, but then my mother wouldn’t be there. You see, it was the annual Eddy Canoe Trip at Balwin, Michigan.

I made myself go, still under much stress. I went with my sister, Patti and my two nieces. I was still filled with loads of anxiety, but I didn’t know that’s what it was. To make a long story short, the next day, I had a flown blown out panic attack, though at the time I had no idea as to what was happening to me, I was just panicking trying to figure out how to calm down, but was failing. It got so bad that I started to hyperventilate, and again, I didn’t know that’s what was happening, until a nurse friend of my sisters, gave me a paper bag and told me to breath into it. That helped the breathing problems.

On the way home, I know my sister was mad at me, I couldn’t function properly,was tired as all get out, but couldn’t sleep. I don’t think she knew what was going on with me, and I couldn’t tell her because I didn’t know myself. I was still jittery and watched a Disney movie to calm down and ate some chicken bouillon.

When my father was diagnosed with the same cancer that my mother had died of five years earlier, I didn’t think I could cope. He was my security blanket, as it were, all during moms death, now here he was dealing with this monster that took my mom.

I had gone back to school in September and told my father about it, which he was pleased as punch, but he’d never would see me get my degree, for he died the next month. I continued to go, but with much hesitation, because I was doing it for him and now he too was gone.

I began to notice that I had to write my address down whenever I got to the parking lot, and I couldn’t understand why. It wasn’t until I was in Abnormal Psychology class, during a movie of a person with multiple personality disorder, did it finally come out. I panicked. I had to get home, and fast.

From that day on, I was scared to death to go even down to the end of my street. I had Agoraphobia, and it stayed with me for a few years. During that time I was put on anti-depressants, which only made me feel worse, and anxiety meds, which helped big time.

It’s been twenty years now, haven’t taken any meds. I do, however, still get bothered by anxiety, but under big stresses. The doctor said my anxiety disorder will never go away, but I can control it, which I have.

I just had to write this, and if any of my family members read it, they’ll finally know what I was dealing with.

 

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