How it Works

First it’s a simple feeling, like I forgot to do something. I get a bit confused, check all my usual websites. I check on the kids, and my husband. Then I start thinking about my day, going over work in my head to figure it out. I try to remember all the files I worked on, all the notes I made in the computer, all the calls I made and calls I took.

Then I start second guessing things. I spoke with my mother in law – should I not have told her what I did? She was upset at someone else’s choice – is she going to say something to them? Will they be mad at me for telling her? I made plans for the next night – am I forgetting something there? Did I have plans that I’m forgetting? I check on the kids again, and the locks and the windows. I check to make sure I didn’t leave the flat iron on. I start thinking about my mom’s cancer appointments, my dad’s recent hospital visit, Granny’s hospital stay earlier in the week. The concern grows. I remember that I didn't make anything for the work potluck or contribute to a baby shower - but the feeling doesn't fade so it doesn't seem to be that.

I start getting sharp stomach pains and I wonder – gas pains or something serious? It hurts when I breathe too deep. I try to get comfortable, try to concentrate on the television. Try to act normal. I try to concentrate on my erratic breathing, try to stop my slight rocking, my fingers rubbing the skin on the back of my opposite hand. i play a little solitaire, try to get my mind involved in something menial.

I feel a little lightheaded, like my body isn’t getting the oxygen it needs. I lay down, close my eyes, try to forcibly relax all the tense muscles in my body. Try to force my body to breathe in counts of five. I wonder if I would be able to fall asleep better if I laid in the uncomfortable bunk bed with my son instead of here, where I’m worried about bothering my husband. I try to clear my mind, to only think about relaxing my muscles and breathing in and out.

Somehow, I get to sleep, only to wake several dozen times through the night with that feeling, the same feeling. Is everything okay? Should I check on the house again? Did I check that door, that window? What was that sound?

I rise in the morning, still fitful, uncomfortable in my skin like something is trying to get out. The fearful feeling in the pit of my abdomen has not receded. My fingers still rub together with nervous energy. The rocking is still just there. And that feeling, if I could only remember what it was that I’m missing, I would be whole again.



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