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I haven’t been writing lately and have been in a real “funk”. It seems like my circumstances make such an impact on my behaviors and that really ticks me off. Every once in a while I go to therapy to help manage my anxiety and yesterday, she told me, “You NEED to write! Go home and write; journal, blog, work on your novel, just write.” So I went home and…I took my son to baseball. 🙂 Sometimes, life is just busy, but that’s okay. I don’t mind. I love watching our son play. He’s a natural athlete and he plays at a high, competitive level, so it’s exciting. It did help me out of my “funk” as well. I just hung out with our 4 yr old and watched the game and relaxed for the first time in nearly a week.

It all started on Sunday, I received a call from my dad, telling me that his mother, my Grandma, had died that morning. Now, I knew she was sick and that she was very close to the end of her life, but that doesn’t make it easier. It’s still sad. I didn’t cry right away and continued to prepare for the day and think about all the things we did with my grandparents, as kids. I teared up a little and told our oldest and my MIL who lives with us. My husband and son were at a Bible Class that was completing that day. We were all going to meet at the class and have a brunch together, celebrating the class. I was all set to focus on the students and their accomplishments and arrived at the party. My MIL got out of the car and walked off while I parked. By the time I got out of the car, a good friend was approaching me with tears in her eyes. My mind began to race! I couldn’t figure out what had her so upset, and I walked up to her with my arms outstretch. I asked her if she was okay and what was wrong. To my surprise, she said she was sorry I lost my Grandma. I froze! I panicked! I couldn’t breathe! There were about 50 people lingering outside and they all saw me breakdown and lose it! I was sad for my Grandma and humiliated that I broke down in front of all these people. I felt blind-sided and helpless, like a hole had been blown through my chest and the the air was escaping. The pain from the anxiety attack felt like something was dragging me to the ground, yet I remained standing. I couldn’t run, I couldn’t get away from these people. I was trapped to deal with this right then and there, but I wasn’t ready; not like like this. I was so out of my comfort zone, and this made it so much worse. My MIL took it upon herself to tell my friend what happened. I was so upset with her, yet I didn’t have the strength to be mad. I was emotionally wiped out the rest of the day. I walked around in a daze and felt so disconnected.

My heart ached and my head throbbed. The hole in my chest was wide-open and felt dark and empty. I still can not wipe from my mind, the look on people’s faces as they watched me grieve and had no idea what was happening. This is when the damn, dark cloud of depression rolled in, and until last night it would not blow over. It hung over me, it’s heaviness weighing on my shoulders, sucking every last ounce of energy from my limbs. In therapy yesterday, when I explained what brought on this “funk” on, she had me talk about what kinds of things were happening at home with my MIL.

I have an ex-sister in law, who is narcissistic. I never saw my MIL as one, until now.