On day four, you wrote a post about losing something. Today, write about finding something. Today’s twist: if you wrote day four’s post as the first in a series, use this one as the second installment — loosely defined.
I decided to take on a new subject instead of adding to my last “serial killer” post.
It had been one of the most difficult periods of my life. After years of not asking for help, not crying when I needed to cry, screaming when I need to scream, I broke. The anxiety took on a life of its own, in dramatic fashion, it took over my body. I collapsed to the ground, paralyzed, my body seizing, tears flooding my eyes. I didn’t know why. I was confined to my bedroom for weeks, not able to go out into the world without the sensation taking over my body again. My head feeling like it was going to explode from pressure, my legs going to mush, my entire body overheating, my breath quickening to the point of hyperventilation. It was misery.
With the help, love and support of my family, my sweet doctor, plus my hope and faith, I was able to go back out into the world again, taking slow tentative steps into the sun. It wasn’t easy at first, and I still felt empty inside. I found myself up late at night, searching online for a new member to add to our family, someone to give me purpose. And then I saw her. The shelter had named her Quinn. A sweet baby girl with big brown eyes as sad as mine, an adorable brown spot on her ear and her side. I knew she was mine before we even met.
The day we went to pick her up, I knelt in front of her cage, and she wagged her tail and smiled at me (yes puppies can smile, despite what my husband says). She seemed to know I was her mom. The days that followed were sleepless and a lot of work, but I loved every minute of it. I had a reason to get up in the morning with the sunrise, usually awakened by a sloppy kiss on my cheek. I walked around my neighborhood with my new baby at my side, a smile on my face, a greeting for the neighbors, some of whom I hadn’t seen in months. I started to remember what happiness felt like.
I’m healthier now, almost a year later. I’ve found my voice once again, and I’m vowing never to lose it. Quinn is still a handful, though she’s calmed down a lot. I give her a lot of leeway, maybe too much some might say. When my husband asks me why I don’t get angry when I find another shoe destroyed or a throw pillow torn apart with the stuffing strewn all over the floor, I smile as I clean up and tell him it’s simple, she saved my life. And that’s worth more than anything.
If you live in the Atlanta area and are looking for a new friend, please check out Dekalb Animal Services: http://dekalbanimalservices.com/adopt-a-pet/dogs-for-adoption. So many sweet animals that need homes!