A Small Dose of Saturday Morning Trauma

I got a call about 10 o’clock this morning. I could hear Siah screaming in the background. Jon hollered at me over the screaming, “I need you to come and get Siah.”

Not even finished my first cup of coffee and hair and make up not done…..I raced out of the house and down the street to our dentists office.

I walked in the door and they ushered me to a back room where I found this.

Good Saturday morning to you too!

Nothing like a spectacular dose of trauma to start the weekend.

It’s dental work. My boys needed fillings. How simple is that? Go in, get it done….BAM!

Not that simple.

I sat in the recovery room with Siah and listened to Judah screaming through 2 closed doors.

It’s hard to think straight when your world feels torn to shreds by trauma. When anxiety overwhelms to the point that nothing makes any sense. When trauma tells you that you are in terrifying danger. When you brain lies to you and it doesn’t matter because you can’t think beyond this exact moment of terror.

Siah was curled in a ball, yelling and screaming at me for letting them hold him down. He was so upset that I couldn’t even touch him or comfort him.

In the end, it’s more traumatizing for us because now that they have settled and the meds have worn off, they don’t even really remember what happened. Yay for the meds actually working.

I say that as sarcastically as I can because I was called there…..without the benefit of mind numbing meds, to witness and experience it all. To be hit and kicked, in fear. To be rejected and not allowed to give comfort.

As soon as he settled some, I traded off with Jon to go and see Judah, who was terrified, mostly because he heard Siah panicking. And being unable to see what was actually happening….he assumes the worse.

Siah actually finished his dental work. Judah wouldn’t let them near him…..even cracked out on meds.

We made it home eventually.

We’ll have to cough up the insane costs to have Judah sedated to actually get the work done.

Anxiety sucks.

Watching someone you love suffer from anxiety is brutal.

Experiencing anxiety is brutal.

Can I encourage you to have compassion for those you know who deal with mental health issues?

I’m gonna get up tomorrow, put make up on and go and sing my heart out. You’d never know what I experienced today by just looking at me…..and I’m not looking for pity.

Compassion and understanding though…..definitely. Especially when my boys are acting out and I have nothing left to give but I dig deep and create energy out of nothing.

But my sharing is not just about me. Be kind and compassionate to those parents and kids you know who struggle…….you have no idea what they really are going through and I guarantee you they won’t share the reality.

It would be too much to handle.

It is too much to handle.