I had the closest thing I've ever had to a panic attack last night. It's actually a little unsettling how close I've felt to losing it - again - all day today. Fortunately, my sweet boyfriend was with me at the time. I think it freaked him out a bit (it freaked me out too!), but he let me cry and wiped my tears and listened and put his arms around me while I hyperventilated.
He even offered to take me to Canada, which made me smile, mostly because that was exactly what I wanted. To escape.
I think the attack was precipitated by the slow cumulation of mini-stressors, including incidents like the following:
A couple weeks ago, while talking with a loved one, the individual began to cry and told me they still loved me but missed the "old Sarah." I reminded the individual that the old Sarah was very unhappy. They knew. And I understood. But I didn't know what else to say. And it put a damper on my morning, to say the least.
Yesterday, while spending time with another loved one, the individual told me that the seeming 360-degree change I've made during the last year is surreal, and that they and others who love me constantly feel worried for me and don't approve of the decisions I'm making. They also suggested that my therapist did her best to convince me that I should leave the church, which I found highly offensive considering I was already inactive when I started therapy, we hardly talked about my relationship with the church, and I consider myself smart enough to have made the decision on my own.
Shortly after that conversation, I came across a gift left for me from another close loved one: a conference Ensign, with love, and a p.s. about the person's favorite session. I returned the gift with another post-it: Thank you, but I'm really not going to read it. Love, Sarah.
Damn it, I know better! N O T H I N G could ever entice me to look for wisdom or understanding from leaders or teachings of Mormonism.
It just SUCKS to realize that those who've loved me the longest would rather have me be insecure, unfulfilled, lonely, and depressed, but "SAFE" sharing their same perspective -- than accept me as the confident, happy, and self-determined woman I am as an atheist.
I know most who might read this blog understand what I'm talking about, and that many of you have endured far worse. I'm finally getting a clue of what you've gone through too. I've been brainstorming for my resignation letter...I find that makes me feel better.