Somewhere between September and October of 2009
When I walked into the kitchen, she was sitting at the end of my mother's dining table sorting through a bag. My grandmother didn't look up from the bag and I proceeded to meander around the kitchen opening and closing cabinets and the fridge.
Even though my doctor had upped my dose from 20 mg to 40 mg of Celexa, the SSRI that was supposed to improve my anxiety, I was still losing a significant amount of weight. My appetite was no where to be found. I was constantly waiting around for it to come back but still could not muster even the slightest desire for any kind of food.
"Why don't you stop lookin for somethin you ain't gonna find and come sit over here and talk to your ol' granny maw?"
Laughing, I fell into the kitchen chair opposite her, at the end of the long table. She'd come to stay with my mom for a while. She always did when she was feeling under the weather.
"Tell me just what's goin on with you?" Maw looked up from her sorting.
I sighed. Wasn't that the million dollar question. I shrugged my shoulders, "I don't know, Maw."
"Is it about your PawPaw?"
My dad's dad had been gone for months now. And as much as I wanted something to say, "Yeah, I'm just grieving." It wasn't that. His death had set off some sort of domino effect in me. Crashing down walls and defenses I'd built against the fear that had always been inside me.
"I don't think so."
Maw squinted her eyes at me like she was trying to solve a puzzle, "Then what's going on with you, Mandie girl?"
Looking out the window that was behind her, I shrugged my shoulders again. "I think there's something wrong with me."
"What makes you say that?"
She was asking for answers that I couldn't even find myself, "Why am I so afraid? Of everything?"
She stopped sorting and looked at me again. My Maw didn't have soft eyes. "You've got to stop letting yourself be afraid."
"And just how do I do that?"
"You stop." She said it so matter-of-factly.
I frowned at her. "Have you ever been afraid, Maw?"
She smiled at me, "'Tis a rare occasion that your granny Maw is afraid."
"Why?"
"I choose not to be."
Staring out the window, I shook my head, "I'm not like you."
That ruffled my Maw's feathers. She dropped what she'd been sorting back into the bag and smacked her hands palms down against the table. She was glaring at me from behind her glasses, "And just what makes you say such a thang?"
"I'm just not, Maw. I'm not strong like you."
She was already shaking her head before I finished talking, "The hell you ain't! Just what do you think you're made of? The blood in my veins is the same blood in yours."
I just shook my head again.
"You need to reach down inside of you and find your constitution. Your backbone."
"I don't think I have one."
Maw laughed to herself. "Oh, you have one alright. You're my granddaughter. There's one in there. You just need to find it."
I half smiled at her faith in me.
She slid something heavy and shiny down the table to me. I caught it in my hands before it flew into the floor. It was a silver fish pendant half the size of my palm. "What's this?"
"I never wear this stuff anymore. And who else should I give that to? Your momma would never wear it." She pointed to the pendant in my hand. "You are my fishy girl."
She was referring to our Zodiac sun sign. Being born the day before her birthday, we shared it.
I looked up at her, running my fingers over the smooth surface of the fish. "Isn't being a Pisces a curse?"
She eyeballed me for just a moment, eyebrows raised, "You tell me."
----
Quickly, I stood up, without explaining myself and walked across the backyard and up the back steps and started fighting that damn sliding glass door to get into the house. I couldn't get it to budge. I slammed my hand against the glass in frustration.
"Ay, Mandie..." Alex's mom scolded from behind me.
"Ay, this puerta!" I was shaking and starting to hyperventilate.
She indicated for me to move aside and she maneuvered the door open enough for us to slip inside.
Once inside, I went straight for my purse and dug around inside until I felt the bottle of Klonopin brush my hand. Popping it open, I dumped the contents into my palm. When I found a half pill, I popped it under my tongue and dropped the bottle back inside my bag.
"Mandie." Alex's mom sighed from behind me.
I turned around to look at her. She was shaking her head. We were alone in the house, since Alex and his dad had walked off somewhere in the yard talking about something. His sisters were both gone somewhere.
"Sientate," She pointed to the kitchen table.
I sat down at the table, as she instructed.
She followed me into the kitchen and propped herself against the counter directly across from me. She was looking at me intently, like she was trying to figure something out. And then she sighed again.
Silence filled the kitchen as she watched me, and I waited for the pill under my tongue to dissolve and relieve me of the shaking and heart pounding unchecked in my chest.
Something you need to understand about me and Alex's mom. We communicated in our own language. Somewhere in an empty space between English and Spanish. With a lot of head shaking and nodding and hand movements. We communicated in our own way and we got by. I learned to understand her silence and face more than anything she ever said.
She was wracking her brain, I'm sure, wondering how she would make me understand just what she was about to tell me. She tilted her head to the side and opened her mouth to speak.
And when she spoke, she was using a mixture of Spanish and English. Mostly Spanish, but she would throw in just enough English words for me to understand the gist of what she was saying.
Though I'm using different words than she, this is the gist of what she told me, "Mandie, you think I don't understand what's going on with you, but I do. I've had those episodes before. And once, I got so dizzy and fell and thought my entire world was going to go black. I was so scared. Someone took me to the doctor and he explained that it was nerves. He wrote out a prescription and told me I needed the pills to help calm down and stay calm." Here, she shook her head vigorously.
"No, no, Mandie. Those pills will consume you. You've got to find your strength," She put her hand to her chest. "In here." Her eyes were filled with worry and she was struggling with some emotion. "Understand?"
I understood what she was saying, enough that I should've nodded my head. The problem was that, I didn't agree with her.
Looking back now, it is crystal clear.
Most of the people in my life, they did not understand. They could not see this monster in me. This fear, this terror, that was faceless and nameless and lived inside my skin. People were quick to accept the mental health diagnosises. The panic disorder. The agoraphobia. They had names. They had faces. They had cures that could be bought at the nearest corner drugstore.
But my dad, my grandmother, and Alex's mom, they knew there was no cure. They could see the obstacle I was tripping over. They could see the thing in my path that was tripping me. But they lacked the ability to give me their sight.
'That there. You see it? It is why you are stumbling.' That was what they were saying. But I could not see the damn thing. It was like someone had cut off the lights.
They could clearly see the monster I was running so hard from. They knew this battle was with myself, not a diagnosis in some medical textbook. They had me by the metaphorical shoulders, shaking me, telling me to stop swallowing the pills, to turn around and face this thing.
But I did not have the strength to fight this. Not on my own. That was what I believed. I was a coward who ran at the first sign of anything scary. That was how it had always been. There was no inner resolve in me. No inner fighter. There was no part of me that was wearing boxing gloves and ready to do this.
And so there I sat in that kitchen chair, shaking my head.
Her eyebrows came together and she stared at me in distress. She thought I did not understand what she was saying.
Alex and his dad walked into the house at that moment. She called Alex into the kitchen.
Alex looked from his mom to me and back again. She explained to Alex what she was trying to say and that I did not understand and for him to translate. Alex started translating and I stopped him. Confused, he titled his head at me.
"I understand what she said."
His eyebrows shot up, I'd surprised him. "Oh."
Alex's mom looked between Alex and me, confused and curious.
Alex, "Then what's the problem?"
"I understand what she's saying, I just don't agree with her."
Alex just looked at me. His eyes roamed my face and I could tell by the look on his that the gears were shifting. How many times had I watched the tide roll over his face, the words forming in the back of his mouth, but those words never reach his lips. He was live and let live, be and let be. And while he would jump in head first to help me with anything should I have asked, when I remained silent, he too remained silent.
Alex looked at me just a moment longer, and I knew the tide had passed. Whatever he had wanted to say, he swallowed it.
His mouth curved into a devilish grin, eyebrows up, "You want me to tell her that?"
We both knew what would happen. I shrugged my shoulders.
Alex turned to explain to his very concerned mother.
And when he was done, she leveled me with a look and sighed so heavy someone could have heard it outside.
When I walked into the kitchen, she was sitting at the end of my mother's dining table sorting through a bag. My grandmother didn't look up from the bag and I proceeded to meander around the kitchen opening and closing cabinets and the fridge.
Even though my doctor had upped my dose from 20 mg to 40 mg of Celexa, the SSRI that was supposed to improve my anxiety, I was still losing a significant amount of weight. My appetite was no where to be found. I was constantly waiting around for it to come back but still could not muster even the slightest desire for any kind of food.
"Why don't you stop lookin for somethin you ain't gonna find and come sit over here and talk to your ol' granny maw?"
Laughing, I fell into the kitchen chair opposite her, at the end of the long table. She'd come to stay with my mom for a while. She always did when she was feeling under the weather.
"Tell me just what's goin on with you?" Maw looked up from her sorting.
I sighed. Wasn't that the million dollar question. I shrugged my shoulders, "I don't know, Maw."
"Is it about your PawPaw?"
My dad's dad had been gone for months now. And as much as I wanted something to say, "Yeah, I'm just grieving." It wasn't that. His death had set off some sort of domino effect in me. Crashing down walls and defenses I'd built against the fear that had always been inside me.
"I don't think so."
Maw squinted her eyes at me like she was trying to solve a puzzle, "Then what's going on with you, Mandie girl?"
Looking out the window that was behind her, I shrugged my shoulders again. "I think there's something wrong with me."
"What makes you say that?"
She was asking for answers that I couldn't even find myself, "Why am I so afraid? Of everything?"
She stopped sorting and looked at me again. My Maw didn't have soft eyes. "You've got to stop letting yourself be afraid."
"And just how do I do that?"
"You stop." She said it so matter-of-factly.
I frowned at her. "Have you ever been afraid, Maw?"
She smiled at me, "'Tis a rare occasion that your granny Maw is afraid."
"Why?"
"I choose not to be."
Staring out the window, I shook my head, "I'm not like you."
That ruffled my Maw's feathers. She dropped what she'd been sorting back into the bag and smacked her hands palms down against the table. She was glaring at me from behind her glasses, "And just what makes you say such a thang?"
"I'm just not, Maw. I'm not strong like you."
She was already shaking her head before I finished talking, "The hell you ain't! Just what do you think you're made of? The blood in my veins is the same blood in yours."
I just shook my head again.
"You need to reach down inside of you and find your constitution. Your backbone."
"I don't think I have one."
Maw laughed to herself. "Oh, you have one alright. You're my granddaughter. There's one in there. You just need to find it."
I half smiled at her faith in me.
She slid something heavy and shiny down the table to me. I caught it in my hands before it flew into the floor. It was a silver fish pendant half the size of my palm. "What's this?"
"I never wear this stuff anymore. And who else should I give that to? Your momma would never wear it." She pointed to the pendant in my hand. "You are my fishy girl."
She was referring to our Zodiac sun sign. Being born the day before her birthday, we shared it.
I looked up at her, running my fingers over the smooth surface of the fish. "Isn't being a Pisces a curse?"
She eyeballed me for just a moment, eyebrows raised, "You tell me."
----
Quickly, I stood up, without explaining myself and walked across the backyard and up the back steps and started fighting that damn sliding glass door to get into the house. I couldn't get it to budge. I slammed my hand against the glass in frustration.
"Ay, Mandie..." Alex's mom scolded from behind me.
"Ay, this puerta!" I was shaking and starting to hyperventilate.
She indicated for me to move aside and she maneuvered the door open enough for us to slip inside.
Once inside, I went straight for my purse and dug around inside until I felt the bottle of Klonopin brush my hand. Popping it open, I dumped the contents into my palm. When I found a half pill, I popped it under my tongue and dropped the bottle back inside my bag.
"Mandie." Alex's mom sighed from behind me.
I turned around to look at her. She was shaking her head. We were alone in the house, since Alex and his dad had walked off somewhere in the yard talking about something. His sisters were both gone somewhere.
"Sientate," She pointed to the kitchen table.
I sat down at the table, as she instructed.
She followed me into the kitchen and propped herself against the counter directly across from me. She was looking at me intently, like she was trying to figure something out. And then she sighed again.
Silence filled the kitchen as she watched me, and I waited for the pill under my tongue to dissolve and relieve me of the shaking and heart pounding unchecked in my chest.
Something you need to understand about me and Alex's mom. We communicated in our own language. Somewhere in an empty space between English and Spanish. With a lot of head shaking and nodding and hand movements. We communicated in our own way and we got by. I learned to understand her silence and face more than anything she ever said.
She was wracking her brain, I'm sure, wondering how she would make me understand just what she was about to tell me. She tilted her head to the side and opened her mouth to speak.
And when she spoke, she was using a mixture of Spanish and English. Mostly Spanish, but she would throw in just enough English words for me to understand the gist of what she was saying.
Though I'm using different words than she, this is the gist of what she told me, "Mandie, you think I don't understand what's going on with you, but I do. I've had those episodes before. And once, I got so dizzy and fell and thought my entire world was going to go black. I was so scared. Someone took me to the doctor and he explained that it was nerves. He wrote out a prescription and told me I needed the pills to help calm down and stay calm." Here, she shook her head vigorously.
"No, no, Mandie. Those pills will consume you. You've got to find your strength," She put her hand to her chest. "In here." Her eyes were filled with worry and she was struggling with some emotion. "Understand?"
I understood what she was saying, enough that I should've nodded my head. The problem was that, I didn't agree with her.
Looking back now, it is crystal clear.
Most of the people in my life, they did not understand. They could not see this monster in me. This fear, this terror, that was faceless and nameless and lived inside my skin. People were quick to accept the mental health diagnosises. The panic disorder. The agoraphobia. They had names. They had faces. They had cures that could be bought at the nearest corner drugstore.
But my dad, my grandmother, and Alex's mom, they knew there was no cure. They could see the obstacle I was tripping over. They could see the thing in my path that was tripping me. But they lacked the ability to give me their sight.
'That there. You see it? It is why you are stumbling.' That was what they were saying. But I could not see the damn thing. It was like someone had cut off the lights.
They could clearly see the monster I was running so hard from. They knew this battle was with myself, not a diagnosis in some medical textbook. They had me by the metaphorical shoulders, shaking me, telling me to stop swallowing the pills, to turn around and face this thing.
But I did not have the strength to fight this. Not on my own. That was what I believed. I was a coward who ran at the first sign of anything scary. That was how it had always been. There was no inner resolve in me. No inner fighter. There was no part of me that was wearing boxing gloves and ready to do this.
And so there I sat in that kitchen chair, shaking my head.
Her eyebrows came together and she stared at me in distress. She thought I did not understand what she was saying.
Alex and his dad walked into the house at that moment. She called Alex into the kitchen.
Alex looked from his mom to me and back again. She explained to Alex what she was trying to say and that I did not understand and for him to translate. Alex started translating and I stopped him. Confused, he titled his head at me.
"I understand what she said."
His eyebrows shot up, I'd surprised him. "Oh."
Alex's mom looked between Alex and me, confused and curious.
Alex, "Then what's the problem?"
"I understand what she's saying, I just don't agree with her."
Alex just looked at me. His eyes roamed my face and I could tell by the look on his that the gears were shifting. How many times had I watched the tide roll over his face, the words forming in the back of his mouth, but those words never reach his lips. He was live and let live, be and let be. And while he would jump in head first to help me with anything should I have asked, when I remained silent, he too remained silent.
Alex looked at me just a moment longer, and I knew the tide had passed. Whatever he had wanted to say, he swallowed it.
His mouth curved into a devilish grin, eyebrows up, "You want me to tell her that?"
We both knew what would happen. I shrugged my shoulders.
Alex turned to explain to his very concerned mother.
And when he was done, she leveled me with a look and sighed so heavy someone could have heard it outside.
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