What is Wrong with Me?

Have you ever felt like you were dying? I have...one time. When I was 22 years old, I went to sleep next to my girlfriend (now wife) in our college apartment. 3 months away from graduation with a job lined up and the excitement of moving to Nashville, I had the world by the throat. That fateful evening however, I kept shooting up out of bed with my heart pounding and out of breath. I thought I was having a heart attack. After a few hours in the ER, I was dispatched with some Ambien to help me sleep and more questions than answers. Additional tests followed with my physicians, and it was determined that I had Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD). In short GAD is a misfiring of brain function that causes me to react to threats differently than others. In layman's terms, I think the worst when a tough situation hits. 

Your boss called. I'm getting fired.

The school called. Kids probably sick.

Doctor's office called. Bloodwork probably showed a thyroid irregularity.

But here's where I could always rise above the noise in my brain. Once I put my hands on whatever problem I perceived I could immediately calm myself and handle the problem properly.

Your boss called. No worries, I'll make it top priority.

The school called. Kyle left his lunch on the kitchen table. I'll run it by on my way to the office.

Doctor's office called. Oh, sorry about the mix-up. Here's payment for the outstanding $17 bill.

As I've grown and matured, I've learned how to properly manager my anxiety. Almost gone are the days where I can't focus due to a potential problem looming ahead. Until now. The day Kyle passed I had adrenaline running through my veins so coarsely it felt like an out of body experience. It wasn't until the first responders left that I went out on my back porch and lost all composure, which is to be expected.

We quickly packed our things and left to spend the next two and half weeks living with in-laws and friends. Surrounded by family and friends we were showered with love and attention, every need taken care of, including details regarding Kyle's service. But my wiring tells me that something terrible is on the horizon. Because at some point we have to go home to house where our son passed and deal with the cold reality that we are now a party of three and not four. 

I've gone nearly half my life without a night's sleep like I had back in the Winter of 2005 until last night. I couldn't get comfortable. I was hot, then cold and restless throughout the night. I kept waking up every hour to wonder if our 7-year-old daughter was asleep in her bed even checking on her once to make sure she was still breathing. When my alarm went off at 6, I tossed and turned with trepidation until I went into her room to wake her. She awoke in typical Leah fashion - surrounded by stuffed animals and wearing a sleeping mask, she took her sweet time descending from her lofted bed. 

I'm alone now in our house as I type this post. It is quiet except for the humming of the furnace in the garage and cars passing outside our neighborhood. It's the midday quiet that one expects when working from home alone on a Monday. And I'm not waiting for the other shoe to drop. I have worries but I am not expecting the worst at this very moment. The say that the stages of grief are not a chronological cycle but rather a pattern of mismatched shapes. Right now, I am in the 'Acceptance' stage of grief. And I don't think there's anything wrong with that.