It Happened Again...

Yesterday was the last day of my niece's dance recital. 

Girard and I had tickets to see the final show with my in-laws.

Kennedy just turned 7 a few months ago and this was her second year taking dance. 

She would be dancing along to a little Christmas jingle - and I was excited for and so very proud of her!

As we entered the dimly lit auditorium to find the seats that corresponded with our tickets

I could feel it begin to happen...

My heart started racing.

My chest was pounding.

My hands became clammy.

There were hundreds of others' searching for their seats.

People walking up and down the aisles.

It was crowded - very crowded.

There was music playing over the speaker system.

The voices of everyone talking seemed to echo all around.

It was loud - very loud.

We found our seats - about halfway down the aisle and on the right.

I quickly sat in my assigned chair...and it wasn't long before another reality hit me.

I was trapped.

Correction - I felt trapped.

The rows of chairs literally sit on top of each other; leaving what felt like just

enough leg room to satisfy a child. 

As I sat in my seat - I was shoulder to shoulder with Girard on one side and his sister on the other.

My body wanted to get up and run for its life

but my mind knew that there was nowhere for me to go.

I sat staring at the massive stage curtains trying to find my way through my thoughts.

They were swirling and spinning all over the place, refusing to settle.

I was having a hard time taking a deep breath and I felt lightheaded.

Girard noticed.

As he began to ask if I was okay I remember shushing him.

I was embarrassed, mad at myself, and felt weak...

Embarrassed because I didn't want anyone else to witness my discomfort.

Mad because I wasn't in control of my mind, body, and feelings.
Weak because once again I had to depend on a pill to calm my nerves.

I had not experienced this same panicked, anxious feeling in several months.

The last time it happened I was with Girard in a crowded casino in Las Vegas.

I had chalked that attack up to being in an unfamiliar place mixed

with the lack of much needed sleep.

But, this time - I couldn't (and still can't) rationalize it.

I was in a familiar place - where I watched countless matinee plays on Sunday afternoons as a child.

I was with Girard and his family - people I love and trust.
For the most part the atmosphere was a happy one - full of people anxiously waiting to watch the show that their daughter, granddaughter, sister, cousin, etc. had worked so hard to learn.
This was a dance recital for crying out loud...

I've mentioned my battle with anxiety and Posttraumatic Stress Disorder here before.
In the past I remember attacks being tremendously terrifying.
Perhaps, because it was new territory for me...
  Over time though, I have learned that I have plenty of fears that will "paralyze" me, given the chance.
I work really hard to avoid being in places or situations in which I know I'll feel vulnerable...
and I strive everyday to push negative and crippling thoughts from my mind...

Yesterday's attack was definitely less than welcome, and has left me confused
and feeling upset with myself more than anything else.

Not to mention that it was both mentally and physically draining.
(We got home around 6:30 and I headed straight to bed...)

So, today...I have found myself on the edge of having the blues.
I keep telling myself, "day by day...and tomorrow is a new one."

Color Is Just A Color...

When I saw this picture - it hit me like a ton of bricks.

 

"Jesus loves the little children

All the children of the world

Red and yellow, black and white

They're all precious in His sight

Jesus loves the little children of the world."

 

I remember singing that little tune many times in Sunday School as a child.

 

Each and every one of us was born into this world the same way - innocent.

Completely innocent.

 

Granted, we certainly are not all raised and taught to have the same morals, opinions, and beliefs.

 

There is a Yiddish Proverb that states,

"Everyone is kneaded out of the same dough

but not baked in the same oven."

 

How true?

I simply love it!

 

We are taught skinny and fat.

Rich and poor.

Love and hate.

Good and bad.

Black and white.

 

 

"I hope that people will finally come to realize

that there is only once "race" - the human race -

and that we are all members of it."

- Margaret Atwood -

 

"Beneath the armor of skin/and bone/and mind

most of our colors are amazingly the same."

- Aberjhani -

 

I don't like stereotypes.  Not one bit.

Not every Muslim is a terrorist.

Not every blonde is dumb!

Not every black person is lazy.

Not every white person is racist.

 

For me - it isn't about the color of someone else's skin.

It's about their character.  Good versus evil.

 

I don't care if someone is red or yellow, purple or blue, black or white...

If they have a good heart - they'll find a friend in me.

 

"Whoever in prayer can say, "Our Father," acknowledges and should feel

the brotherhood of the whole race of mankind."

- Tryon Edwards -

Be Good...

I quite often offer to take old people's shopping carts back to the buggy return for them. Some look shocked that I even took the time to speak to them, and they always thank me profusely.

A few years ago, I was on my lunch break when I saw a man who appeared to be homeless. He truly looked down on his luck and was holding a sign asking for help. At McDonald's I placed my order and decided to double it. With an extra cheeseburger, fries, and a coke - along with a banana I had in my car that I had intended to eat for breakfast, but hadn't...I went back to where I had seen him sitting. I smiled and handed him the food... With tears in his eyes, he said, "God bless you." ...Everyone needs a little help sometimes.

I will never forget his face...
 

I always stop and move turtles out of the road, no matter how late I may be running!
 

I once had a pair of earrings, and they were some of my favorites. I was visiting my grandma one day and she couldn't stop admiring them. I took them off and gave them to her. She smiled so big and they looked even more beautiful dangling from her ears!

For the past few months, my husband takes me nearly every single night to our local trash dump to feed a stray mama cat and her babies. I've never had a cat and to be honest, I've never even really been fond of them...but I quickly developed a soft spot in my heart for this bunch. It makes me beyond sad knowing that their lives consist of being deathly afraid of humans and dumpster diving for their next meal... Every animal deserves to be loved.
 

The last words my Papa Charlie said to me before he died in 2003 were, "Be good."

- I am trying.