Panic

Panic

11/13/2023

11:48 am

***Warning, language and description of abuse***

It’s early.

I fell asleep early last night after struggling with homework. My mind and body was tired. I did not finish the homework. I had done a 3 mile walk yesterday morning and started working on things as soon as I got home.  I forgot to take a shower. I never took one.

After falling asleep around 9 pm, I had woken up at around 1 am, undressed, and went back to sleep.

I thought I was okay.

I got up, took a shower, and went downstairs to wake up my son.  Getting the day started.

I was walking around with my wet hair still wrapped up in the towel.  I decided to take it down and let it air dry.  This is not usual for me; I normally pull it up.  I do not like my hair, especially wet hair, touching my face.

I decided to load the dishwasher before doing anything else and heat up a cup of coffee.

I kept having to bend down to put things into the bottom of the dishwasher and my hair was falling in my face.

After about 15 minutes of this, I suddenly started feeling this heaviness in my chest.  It felt like I was being pushed. I was bending down putting in the last of the dishes, my hair was still in my face, and I suddenly started feeling panicked. It felt like everything was going dark. I felt like I had to run away. 

I stood up, dried off my hands, and quickly went back upstairs to my room.  I told my son the time as I quickly moved past him in the living room. It felt hard to breathe by the time I got to my room.

I got to my bedroom, sat on the bed, and grabbed my hair scrunchie, quickly putting my hair up and away from my face. The ringing in my ears got loud for a moment and then was replaced by the droning of the oscillating fan.  I closed my eyes, took in some deep breaths and concentrated on the feeling of the cool air blowing from the fan. I was trying to focus on anything else.

I slowly sipped from my water bottle; eyes still closed.  I was still taking in deep breaths when my son came upstairs.  I could hear him stop at the door; he did not say anything and went to his room. The heaviness was subsiding, and so was the panic.

I opened my eyes, focused on the fan, and continued taking long sips of water.

The immediate thoughts that came during the incident were of something that happened when I was still living at home before I left for the military. I have never had a moment where past trauma has been so vivid before, it is normally kind of blurry and my memories are somewhat hazy.  Years of blocking it out.

I also have trouble remembering the time periods sometimes, I realized today this incident didn’t happen when I was 15 or 16 like I initially remembered, it actually happened when I was over the age of 18. I could see the house where we lived.

This time, I could see and hear everything.  It was like I was reliving that moment.

I grew up in Tulsa, Oklahoma.  This state is in the middle of the United States.

I am from an indigenous family and we did not grow up with a lot despite both my mother and her husband working full time jobs.  I have two younger half siblings.  It was not a good life for me.  I was frequently abused by my mother’s husband and she knew about it but never defended me.  I always used to think that I was being punished because she hated me for existing. I remember her words accusing me of ruining her life by being born. She had been a single mother before she met him and then they had two more daughters.

Fast forward to somewhere between 1989 to 1990 after I graduated high school but before I went into the military. I remember we were living in a small two bedroom house in the not so great part of town. I would be home and do the chores that had to be done. It was always an argument with the middle half sibling about dishes.  She would hide the pots and pans that she did not want to wash under the sink. I would have to wash them afterwards when I found them so it would double my time to get chores done.

That particular day, my mother was working a little late, and her husband had come home early.  My siblings were not there, they were not home from school yet. I hated it when he would get home early and it was just me there. I would be on edge and on alert because I never knew what kind of mood he would be in. That day he was in a bad mood as soon as he walked into the garage. I could hear him cussing, throwing things around, and yelling at our dog.

I was going to try and ignore it, just keep my head down and stay busy with the dishes. It didn’t work.

This is were I believe the issue with my hair in my face comes from as well as just issues with my hair.  I used to have very long hair, past my waist. I had been growing it out for years. I was very proud of my hair back then.

I was standing at the sink, doing the dishes, and waiting for whatever was going to happen, to happen.

The door swung open and was loud when it hit the counter by the back door. I could feel his presence in the room. He always had this darkness about him. It is hard to explain. It was a sense of rage coming from him whenever we interacted. 

I kept looking down at the soapy water and was trying to not move. He started cussing about the dog making a mess in the garage.  It had apparently gotten into the dog food and spilled it all over the floor. I didn’t say anything and kept washing the dishes.

I guess he did not like that I had no response. He stepped forward and shoved me against the counter.  Then he grabbed the back of my head and shoved me, telling me “Get the fuck out of my way!” My hair had gone into the soapy water, it was pulled back in a pony tail but when he grabbed my head, the hair band broke and my hair came down.  I was able to quickly put my hand up to keep myself from hitting the cabinet door that was open next to the sink. I moved out of his way. He was trying to wash his hands and started cussing more about the dishes in the sink. He grabbed them and threw them onto the counter by the sink. A couple of glasses got broken in the process, he yelled at me to clean it up. 

I had stepped away from him and was just standing there not saying anything but my heart was racing, there was ringing in my ears, and the anger was bubbling up inside. I don’t know what got into me, maybe it was I had enough in that moment, that was the pivot point to how I was living.

I told him “You broke it, you clean it up!” He quickly turned around and growled “What did you say to me?”.  I repeated what I said. He took a step towards me and said, “You think you’re all big and tough?” “That’s not going to help you.” He pointed and I looked down. I had a knife in my hand. I don’t even remember grabbing it. It had to been in my hand when I was washing the dishes.  

Once again, I don’t know what I was thinking, I said, “I don’t need a knife.” and I sat it on the stovetop next to me. He started laughing and took a step towards me with his hands balled into fists. He was ready to punch me but in that instant, I punched him in the face with all the power I could. I believe it was just a lucky shot on my part, I caught right under his eye. He stumbled backwards and into the back doorway to the garage. He regained his footing and was stepping forward towards me. The stunned look turned into rage. That’s when the front door opened and my mother came in with my younger sister.

She asked, “What’s going on?” as she saw him standing there still holding onto the door.  My sister went to the bedroom and my other sister was coming through the door as well.  His demeanor quickly changed. He told her about the dog and the mess. Then he said he slipped coming through the garage door and hit his face on the door.  He had a big red welt and bruise forming as well as a cut under his eye. My mother took him to the bathroom to clean up his face.  She never even looked at or acknowledged me; I went back to cleaning up the kitchen and the broken glass on the counter and floor.  I sometimes think that she did see the broken glass but never said anything about it.

Afterwards that dynamic between me and him changed. He never laid a hand on me after that but would continue to yell and say things to me or get in my face when he did.  There were a few incidents where he threatened to hit me or would act like he was going to throw something at me and I kept standing my ground. The physical abuse turned into emotional and verbal abuse.

I couldn’t escape the emotional and verbal abuse but in that moment, I took back my power from him. I did not allow him to hurt me.

I no longer allowed myself to be his punching bag and he knew I was going to fight back. My mother unfortunately never stood her ground with him, that abuse continued especially when they would get drunk.

After writing all of this out, that heavy uneasiness that I have been carrying all morning has finally subsided. It made me feel on high alert during my walk and it was hard to concentrate for a while. 

I am okay now.

I have no idea what precipitated all of this today. 

Maybe my mind decide to finally let that go.

Maybe my soul was reminding me that I have more power than I realize.

Maybe it was the universe reminding me that I have no reason to be afraid anymore.  I survived worse.

Thank you so much for stopping by.

Have a wonderful week!

Peace, love, happiness, and good vibes, always!

Suzanne.