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No Safe Place

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Mo Practices Mindfulness and Meditation: A Play in One Act

We open on Mo in her car driving home from her ophthalmology appointment. Mo just learned that at 36 she likely is suffering from glaucoma which is causing a rapidly growing blind spot in her left eye. Mo has had a rough week, she spent Tuesday night in the ER and was admitted to the hospital because of chest pains (she is going to be fine). Feeling as though a melt down or panic attack is imminent Mo decides to listen to the PTSD meditation she downloaded.

Gentle music plays, and a male voice begins to lead Mo through her meditation. Mo giggles a bit when he reminds the listener that recorded meditations are not intended to replace in person therapy because, no shit. Mo breaths as instructed and begins to visualize the safe place the man on the recording asks her to and then…

Meditation Recording: You are relaxing now, you are safe here in this place, in your body…

Mo: What? No, I’m not…ohhhhh shit.

Mo stops the meditation as she pulls to a stop sign.

Mo: Holy shit.

Mo is not used to figuring things like this out on her own. She realizes that the man on the recording is very right about going to therapy for your PTSD, because she probably wouldn’t have figured this out 6 months ago.

Mo: Well, that explains a lot.

Mo realizes that it is weird to talk to yourself in your car and that there is a car behind her. She pulls away from the stop sign and finishes her drive home in silence.

End.

Tonight, I realized I don’t feel safe, even in my own body. I can lock the doors and windows all I want, but the boogeyman is already in the house, the boogeyman is in me. I used to say that it felt like there was a time bomb in my chest and I was always waiting for the beat that would set it off and make it blow, I thought I was over that feeling after my defibrillator fired and I survived it. I guess not. It seems like every time I turn around there is some part of my body betraying my desire to push through and ignore it all. Maybe I need to stop ignoring it, maybe that is the wrong way to approach it. Perhaps I should try embracing it. Ignoring the bully isn’t making it go away so perhaps I have to kill it with kindness.

In therapy we talk about trying to think of all the positive things my heart condition has given to me. Sometimes it is hard to make that list. I feel like it is constantly taking things away, and even if they are things I never wanted in the first place, I wanted to be the one that said so. No one likes being told what they can and can’t have, what they can and can’t do. I am not even sure if these things are actually things I don’t want because without knowing a life without this time bomb hanging above my head, there is no way to know what I would want if it weren’t. I’m in a loop of constant frustration. On one hand I am thankful for this thing that has given me buckets of empathy for others, and perspective that few people have, and on the other I am just so angry that so much of my life’s trajectory is outside my control. And before you get all up in my comments telling me that no one is in control of the trajectory of their life, sure, fine, you’re right, we could all be hit by trucks tomorrow, I get that, but most of you don’t live with a tiny truck inside your body that is constantly (and since day one) wrecking into things and ruining your plans, you just don’t.

So, I don’t feel safe in my own body. Now what? I guess, we all have to stay tuned to find out. 

Pressing Play

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For the last six months I have been scared. If you asked me in person how I’ve been of course wouldn’t just come out and say it, but while my mouth was busy saying “Oh, I’ll make it.” my brain has been shouting “I’M FREAKING OUT MAN!”.

Getting defibrillated shocked me you guys. Pun intended. It was not something I had on my radar or schedule. It knocked the wind out of me, pun again intended, and for a long while I have really been just kind of coasting along. I’ve avoided anything I thought might have even a slight chance of bringing on anything like that again. I have been through about five overhauls of my meds. I’ve been to therapists, I’ve meditated, I’ve tried just about everything to stop freaking out and over the last few weeks it seems I just have. I’ve stopped freaking out. I’ve been searching for something to make me feel better these last six months, something to make me feel safe in my own body again, and have found nothing. It seems to me the answer wasn’t something to be found through medicine or mental health care (though both are super important). I think it just took time, six months to be exact.

It’s taken six months to get in my car alone and drive across the state to see my mom and gramma. It’s taken six months to feel like I could make a single plan without first considering all the potential risks for another doozy of a heart rhythm. This has happened to me before. Something bad happens and I just stop moving. If I hold very still perhaps the bad thing will go away. I press pause on my life and retreat in to the places I know I am safe. I cocoon better than anyone you’ve ever met.

After six months being in my cocoon I am ready to go again. It doesn’t matter to me that soon my ICD will start singing me it’s critical battery song. I’m still going to St. Louis for a dear friends wedding this weekend. It doesn’t matter that for some reason I cannot seem to get extra fluid to get off and stay off, I am going with my aunt and uncle to a Garth Brooks concert in a couple weeks. It doesn’t matter that I have to get blood work at least once a month (but more like constantly) forever. I am going to that NWSL soccer match I am super excited for.  I doesn’t matter that I know I am going to have to schedule a device change in the next 8-10 weeks, I am still going to have a happy birthday, a fun family vacation and whatever else I want to do until then.

Am I sad I’ve spent the last six months on pause? Not really. I firmly believe that my body and mind know exactly what I need to do to get through anything. I actually have no evidence to the contrary. I have survived everything life has thrown at me thus far, and my plan is to keep up the good work. play

Circle

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Two months ago I had the wind knocked out of me both literally and figuratively and since then, things haven’t been quite the same. It shouldn’t have been a surprise when after four years living with my ICD (internal cardiac defibrillator) it finally had it’s first go at “thumping” me.

I was on a photo shoot, I was playing with a kid getting him to smile in spite of his instance not to, he was good but I was better. Sure, that smile only came as my physical comedy got more involved but it came and once I had it I was determined to keep it going, my body however had another plan.

Silence. That is what I remember, it was just so quiet. All the noise of cars going by, and the kid laughing at me, and my fellow photographer talking, it all faded to nothing. My vision went from bright white to deep black, and then at once came back with a tremendous thud in my chest. It hurt, it hurt like nothing I’d ever felt before, not the worst pain of my life kind of hurt, but a hurt I had never experienced and couldn’t describe to you accurately if I had unlimited time and words. The best I can come up with is hitting your funny bone, with a sledgehammer, while grabbing hold of an electric fence, while licking a nine-volt battery. It was impact and electricity at once.

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Hello.

1 Comment

mo-artist-drawing

My instinct, with a title like that is to immediately type the lyrics to either an Adele or Lionel Richie song but I don’t think my passionate vocal interpretation of either song could be done justice via text alone. I will spare you. This time.

My name is Monica, but you can call me Mo. If you are currently reading this site, the odds are good that you already knew that. If you are new, hello! Was it me you’re looking for? That is an actual question not just a song lyric, did you mean to click this page? What brings you here? Did my mother send you? She can be overly proud sometimes.

Anyway, new friend, old friend, unknown being from planet Blurg who is reading this for a school report on humans in the year 3048, welcome.

I’m not sure what I’m doing here, but I’m here and really that has been my story from the start. I’m just someone who see things a little differently and sometimes likes to write those things down. My sister once described me as the type of person who wears a cape with her roller skates, I think that is as much of an introduction as anyone really needs.

Welcome.