Thursday, January 31, 2013

Love Starts With You

A photo of me when I was a wee little one. I felt it was fitting for this post. :)

I remember my first anxiety attack. Or perhaps it's a panic attack? To me they're both the same. Regardless, I remember it so clearly... as I know how to spell my name. 

I was in 4th grade laying on my parents bed watching the original 90210 just after I had taken a shower. My mom was folding laundry in the same room, my sister was in her bedroom and my father was downstairs in our living room watching television. 

I had a bad day at school that day. There was that awful girl drama between some of my friends and I happened to be in the middle of it. I think my problem was I always wanted everyone to be friends so being the mediator was the worst job to have, especially at that age. But the moment I returned home from school a part of me felt at peace, that everything would be okay in a few days because people forget, friends move on and then something new comes up that draws everyone's attention away. 

So I'm laying on my parents bed watching 90210.. I'm trying to focus on the show but all's that I could think of was school and how my friends were upset with one another. I could only think about how people get hurt.. but why do they get hurt... why do people want to hurt people... it's not fair we cry.. why do we cry... why do people want to make others cry... why do people feel happy when they make others cry... why do we laugh at others when they get hurt.. and you can imagine the thoughts just did that snowball effect. As I'd try to shake my thoughts and focus on the drama of 90210 in front of me.. there on that specific episode was backstabbing, friends fighting and people hurting one another. My chest began tightening.. The immediate thought was.. here are older people (yes I know it's TV).. and they're fighting.. they're making each other cry... they're laughing at their pain.. they're deliberately trying to ruin each other's lives. 

I had an anxiety.... panic... crazy I'm way too young for this...attack... thinking that no matter where I go in life there are going to be people around me hurting others. I felt that life would never get better and there is always going to be bad people, or even friends in my life that will hurt me.. or worst of all I'd hurt them. I cried to my Mom.. I cried that I wished I'd never grow up.. She comforted me and laughed in a caring way. She said everything was going to be okay and she calmed me down. 

That was 4th grade... so I guess I was 10-11-ish years old? I'm 28 now and I can tell you that little 10 year old girl that I once was.... was pretty smart. I've managed to make it through a couple decades after that and what I've seen in life all these years definitely fits all those thoughts that made me panic. I have come across people who have hurt me, hurt others and I know first hand I've made bad decisions that have hurt people I loved as well. 

Somehow, some days when I'm out and about I look around me and see adults with the minds of those 10 year girls and boys fighting in school over looks, sports.. judging their families or their actions.. whispering and snickering behind others backs...

Because of this memory that I think of anytime I see someone feeling or getting hurt is why I believe in caring for others. It's why I originally created this Blog. Because there is good and there is still love out there aside from the hurt, hatred and negativity that hides in the shadows. 

Love is everywhere and it starts with you. 
Photobucket