I Took a Shower

-

 “Please take a shower when you get home” my therapist said Monday. 


I have been taking sponge baths. Enough so I know my areas and I don’t stink. I have made sure the dirt was wiped away.  I was ok with that. The truth and the matter was, it’s all I could do.  Mental health has taken such a toll on me, I didn’t even want to take a sponge bath. Now, my therapist wants me to stand in a shower. 


Yesterday I finally gathered up enough spoons to do just that. I gathered my clean clothes and headed to the bathroom. I got my shower gel that I wanted and prepared for my shower. 


I just stood there looking at the shower.

Not being able to move.


I don’t know how long it was before I had talked myself into actually moving and getting in the shower. Turning on the water and letting it hit my skin. The moment it did, I began to cry.  I was lost in a world I didn’t recognize. A world where depression, anxiety, and fear took over me. Standing there was so much effort, I didn’t know how to do this.


I finally told myself I was ok enough to talk myself into putting soap in my hair. Now on my loofa. I was able to rinse off with all the strength I had left. I got out of the shower. 


I sat on the bed dripping wet. 

Crying and full of anxiety.

I, I took a shower. It was the hardest thing I did. I don’t know why.  I sat there covered up in a towel.  Trying to calm myself down. Telling myself. It was just a shower. 


It wasn’t a shower. It was self care. It was taking care of me. It was me trying to get past this depression that has gripped me by the throat. 


All I hear from people is “oh my god you took a shower, don’t you feel better?”  All I wanted to do was hide in a hole. I felt like do you not know?  Do you not realize this was so hard for me to do?  The tone behind that was, I don’t know, made me feel worse. 


I took a shower.  Here I am not wanting to take a shower again. Maybe I will get to a point where I can. Right now, it’s hard. It’s really really hard. 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Hard Year

-
  7 months ago, in August 2023, my world changed forever. My mom got rushed to the hospital. The words I never thought I’d hear come from the medical responders “she has a-fib.” Growing up around paramedics most of my life, I knew that wasn’t a good sign for my mom to be in. That was pretty much the last time she was home.  Four weeks in the hospital, followed by two weeks of rehab. Ok great she can be released. The last week in September she came home on a Saturday. By Monday she was rushed back to the hospital for a-fib again. Another two weeks in the hospital and off to rehab again. This time she was in a nursing home rehab. That is where she has stayed. She hasn’t come home. She continues to battle this.  I sat in the primary’s office this past Monday. She asked me how my mental health was doing. I checked in and said therapy was hard. I let it all go. The tears came flooding down. From a hard day at work and therapy.  I couldn’t contain it anymore.  As the tears streamed dow
Read more

9-1-1 and Dispatch

-
  I have learned if you have PTSD and not an actual emergency in my area, no one will be called out. Due to a recent event my daughter, who is 20 and autistic, called 911.  My daughter stated someone hit my car with their bike, the man was yelling at us, and I was in a panic attack.  Due to no injury, there was nothing dispatch could do.   Let’s back up a little bit to 2016. In 2016 I actually hit a pedestrian. I broke their femur and they had some bumps and bruises too. They survived thankfully. It took years before I could finally accept the fact that she was fine and I needed to let go of the guilt I was carrying around with me.  Fast forward back to May 14th. My daughter wasn’t on her phone. She always pay attention to our surroundings while I drive. She knows living on campus that people are stupid. This time was no different. She let me know there was a bike pulling out of our subdivision as I was pulling in. I swerved just a little bit and stopped. The bike then swerved into
Read more

Anxiety, PTSD, and Ticks Oh My!

-
  My fingers tapping in the air as if I am playing a piano. My mind is racing. I can see the sirens, the person on the ground. tap tap tapping in the air the flashback continues to when I hit someone. The rush of anxiety and PTSD rushes over me like a wave. An unstoppable wave crashing. Unable to stop the waves. tapping continues I wonder if this will ever stop, this tick I have developed.  The year was 2016.  When I hit a 75 year old lady named Bonnie (name changed for identification purposes). I remember the blaring of the sirens that came flooding down the streets. Her lying on the ground. Me yelling at people not to move her.  This day has been engraved in my head. This day is when I developed my first tick.  As the years progressed I learned how to control it. I learned what worked and what didn’t. I learned some meds helped.  Even some fidgets worked. I had this down. Occasionally, I’d have a moment of flashback and my tapping would start. It would look like I was playing the key
Read more