The Beginning of an anxiety disorder

Short Stories – My Mom

The person at this time who helped me the most, was my mom. It’s true that when you are sick, your mom is the one you want. Even as a grown woman, with children of my own, the only person I felt I could truly depend on and lean on, was my mom. I am not sure I would have figured anything out, without her support…I love you Mami!

One day, during these dark times, I had a headache. I was afraid to take medication, but I was also afraid of having a headache. For some reason, a headache increased my anxiety and was a trigger for a panic attack. My mom had been sleeping in my bed with me, taking my son to school, taking me to appointments and must have been tired herself. So on this day, as she stood in front of me holding a glass of water and two Tylenol, she had had enough. I was talking about how I didn’t know if I should take the Tylenol because it might give me a stomach ache, or make me feel something that I didn’t want to feel, or what if it affects the other medications I am taking, plus I have not eaten anything…and so on and so on and so on…I was seriously running on super high anxiety mode.

She let out the breath she was holding, looked up at the ceiling for patience and turned to me to say…”acaba de tomarte la pastilla y no jodas mas!” Translation: “Take the damn pill and stop being a pain in the ass!” I laughed, took the Tylenol and my headache went away. Thanks Mami!

Continue here: Short Stories – My Dad

1 thought on “Short Stories – My Mom”

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.