fragmented me.

I asked for one thing of 2010. That it would be gentle in order to allow for healing. No big resolutions. No requests for winning the lottery. No super powers.

Just....that it would be gentle.

So on Monday night,as I lay on a bed in triage in the emergency room....I really felt stepped on by life.

We had been watching a movie...."The Dark Night". Not my kind of flick as I am more of an Anne of Green Gables or Romantic comedy kind of girl...but I was enjoying it with my family in spite of the psycho joker and violence. I was not in any way feeling anxious. I was actually feeling rather peaceful as my husband rubbed my feet while we watched. However, I was also starting to become aware of heart beats that I could feel jumping out of my chest, and an increasing inability to breathe. No pain....just....THUMP THUMP THUMP....skip....THUMPTHUMPTHUMP...skip POUND THUMP POUND thump....

I started to feel lightheaded and a little sick to my stomach..."Is this what having a heart attack feels like?" "How much grief can a heart last through?" "Am I dying?" I looked at my husband and explained that my heart was acting up....and that I needed to go to ER now.

I hated seeing that look on his face....the look I've seen so many times in the past several months....fear, shock, the need to act...NOW.

I hated knowing that my children knew we were going to ER....where I almost died last May.

But...off we went.

Half way to the hospital, my husband declared that he felt I was having a panic attack, not a heart attack.

He was right.

My heart was groovy...except for a slightly longer QT beat. My heart was fine. Yeah. just great....

It's my nerves that are shot apparently.

My nerves, which are so blasted by the shit storm of my life's events that they finally wig out without any provocation at all. My nerves, which are the messengers to my entire body are now sending panic signals even when I am at ease.

I am now, as I type, covered in little pads and wires because I am being monitored for 24 hours to check out my looong heart beat which has most likely been there since I had scarlet fever as a child. No big deal...and yet...here I am covered in wires. They gave me an anxiety reliever with the promise that I'd take it....and they reallllllly were insistent after I said I didn't like to take drugs. Told me to relax when I got home, and then...they hook my up to all this shit that I have to sleep in, and I can't get it wet.

So, no bath to relax. No yoga because I can't bend in all these wires. No sex because I look like an alien AND they informed me that they "would be able to tell if we had sex because they are tracking my heart...." No massage because I am covered in wires...and oh...no sleep, because as I mentioned...I am F-ing covered in WIRES.

Yeah...go home an relax.

Nothing is wrong. We just want to monitor you, and x ray you, and ultrasound you and have you take really addictive pills.

But...your just fine Sara.

I have a really wonderful friend who has become like a brother to me. He really gets stress...anxiety....life pain that rips you and leaves you twitching on the ground in agony. He knows what it feels like to want to pelt yourself through a glass window. Not to die....but just...to DO it. He gets that feeling.

He tells me I am worth taking care of. That I need to put myself first. That my body is screaming at me to PUT MYSELF FIRST.....

he's right.

and yet....I look at my sons....my sweet husband...my pets....my work...my friends.

I look at these reasons that I exist at all. And it is right then and there that I know that putting myself first sounds really nice....really important...

but...

I'll always find a reason to not do it.

Because I'm in too much pain to be strong for myself.

It makes me happy to cuddle a child...to make dinner for my family....to brush my dogs....to provide an experience for the kids....to clean my house....

I don't want to be gone when Ty is home. I already miss him too much.

I don't want to make my kids give up anything else...they've already missed out on so much.

I can't stand to take a bigger piece of the pie when my pie slice is already HUGE from all the "mommy is a freaky crybaby" stuff that just IS because I just AM.

My friend...he's really right. I need to take care of me. More than I am. Because the care I'm giving is apparently not enough. If it was.....my body wouldn't be telling me I am having a heart attack when I am really just.......anxious beyond my comprehension. I am broken.

and my body can't take any more.

I am broken...

but...maybe...I can be more active about my healing.

maybe...I don't have to be broken forever.

maybe...I can smile INSIDE too.