There are a few signs that could help indicate that you are slowly losing it. One would be experiencing panic attacks. Of course at the time, you probably won’t be able to give it a name, but there are some tell tale symptoms. If you're planning on reading to a small group of children, something you’ve done hundreds of times, and you suddenly struggle to breath, become shaky, have to ask another teacher to take over, and your young son asks “Mom, are you okay?”, you’re having a panic attack, and possibly beginning to lose your sh*t.
If you made plans to reconnect with special, forever-college friends who you haven’t seen in years, you sob uncontrollably during the hour long commute, and you find yourself having to work very hard just to participate in friendly conversation, you’re most likely losing it.
I didn’t get help, yet somehow I managed to survive. That being said, we went through some rough times during Jordan’s high school years. (Hence this blog). I think if I had the chance to do it all over again (and thank God, the universe or whatever you believe in... that I don’t), I hope I would reach out for professional help.
I don’t have true regrets, but who knows. Maybe if I were better able to cope, it would have helped to ease some of our hurt and confusion, and life could have gone a bit more smoothly for the Beck family.
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