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| "Froggy" by Crystal Bowman 2017 |
It's a purple elephant. When I was a little girl, I had two stuffed animal elephants. One was grey and his name was "Kenny Rogers," The other elephant was a faux velvet and it was purple; his name was "Froggy." When I think of the saying, "The elephant in the room," I imagine a giant sized Froggy; because what could be more obvious than a giant purple velvet elephant? I would often consult with Froggy and share my thoughts with Froggy. Kenny Rogers, however, was merely Froggy's sidekick. I find it strangely ironic that I named a stuffed elephant "Kenny Rogers," because at that age I had an irrational fear of the country singer.
Sadly, at that time in country music, Kenny Rogers was EVERYWHERE! He was extremely popular; when he wasn't on tv on his own, he was making guest appearances or doing duets with other performers. To add insult to injury, my parents had one of his albums on 8-track and I was not impressed. The sight of him terrified me. My siblings enjoyed pointing him out when he was on the television, because they thought that my reaction to seeing him was tremendously entertaining. I'm sure that at the time it was rather amusing. There wasn't anything about him that appeared to be at all threatening. However, when I saw him I'd freeze as the fear washed over me and I knew that he was out to get me. How I developed this irrational phobia is beyond me. Perhaps it was something one of my siblings had planted in my head, or maybe I had a bad dream about him and it stuck. I just know that the fear was very real.
Over time, I grew out of that phase and was no longer afraid of the country star, though I still detest his music. I did not know how to hold, nor where to fold them; undaunted, I carried on. For most of my childhood I endured many nightmare filled nights and suffered from insomnia. In my teen years, I made the best out of my insomnia. Rather than lying in bed, frustrated by my inability to sleep, I decided to use that time to get my homework done and watch late night tv on Nickelodeon. Back then, it was shows like Mary Tyler Moore Show, Dick Van Dyke and Three's Company- this was before they created the channel TV Land. Using that time for study and homework left my afternoons and evenings free for after school activities and socializing.
When I went on to college, I couldn't maintain that schedule, due to the fact that I shared a dorm room with a roommate who was blessed with a normal sleep pattern. Any sort of white noise was unwelcome. As a result the restless nights and nightmares returned. I found valerian root tea at the local hippie shop and began using that, even though it smelled horrid. I was desperate to sleep again. Other than a bit of sleep deprivation and unfortunate boyfriend drama, most of the time I was a down to Earth, happy young woman. There was a point in my life, my third year in school, where I saw that I was unhappy. I found the root of the source and removed it from my life. Sort of like pulling a weed from a garden. After that I was happy again.
Then, when I was 22, things changed. I was moodier, edgier, sullen, forgetful and lonely. All the people that I was close to had moved away, winter was especially harsh that year and I was getting terrible headaches. I was finding myself in one disaster after another and having a difficult time coping. It was a hard to try to keep brave face. So, I took time off from school, then I transferred to another school with the hope that I'd feel better. Well, as the circumstances were, my headaches grew worse, but I'd made a lot of new friends. I was trying to be active while barely having any sleep. Usually, I'd sleep 3-4 hours and spend the rest of the day consuming as much coffee as possible to not only stay awake, but to lessen the pain in my head.
Some days were especially challenging. I would prepare for my day, dress myself, put on some make-up to feel pretty, grab my backpack and prepare to leave my dorm room. Then, when I'd get my hand on the doorknob, an overwhelming sensation would consume me and I'd very totally distraught and fearful. I felt that if I left that room, something terrible would happen. So, I'd stay in my room all day. I'd watch tv, read, study, draw, write papers, anything to stay busy. My sorority sisters would bring me food from the dining hall, to make sure that I was still eating. I didn't understand what was happening and I didn't have a name for what I was experiencing. I was so embarrassed by it, because it all seemed to silly and weak. Only a few of my closest sorority sisters knew what was happening with me; I was happier having the rest think that I was a flake, than to have them understand the truth.
I began to see a therapist, but my visits were so infrequent that I don't think we got very far. Other than her explaining that she felt I had clinical depression. At the time, I sort of trusted her assessment, because she was the expert, but it didn't make sense to me. I was not sad. I was not gloomy. I was inexplicably scared all the time. I didn't think that being afraid meant the same as being sad.
After graduating, I left therapy behind. Still enduring mind blowing headaches, I spent most of my summer sending out resumes, sun bathing and reading. There wasn't much for me to do. After finding a job at a youth hostel in Cape Cod, I felt a bit better. I was spending more time outdoors, I was doing a lot of exercising and breathing in salt air. I took a Middle Eastern dance class to feel more empowered. I was spending a lot of time just trying to get better. I was a vegan at the time and lost too much weight. During my second summer at the hostel, I discovered that I was very sick. My headaches, grew worse, I was more forgetful, super moody and some days I couldn't walk well. I went to the doctor and after an MRI, I was told that I had a massive brain tumor. I left my job, moved back home and two weeks later was at Tuft's New England Medical Center having extensive brain surgery to remove a large benign tumor.
I had to teach my body to walk again. I had to learn to adjust to this new version of myself. One who had a weaker side, partial paralysis, deafness. Healing was my focus then. After 12 days, I was able to go home. It took six months for the swelling to finally go away. I spent my time volunteering at the elementary school. I used a cane to assist with my walking. I had this dark cloud over my head for a year, wondering if all of the tumor was successfully removed. Would another one develop? Once I had the results from a new MRI, I was finally at ease.
I spent more time with my friends and with my family. I nurtured new hobbies. I taught myself how to quilt and I became even more crafty. I became a baking fool. I checked off boxes from my life of wants. For my 27th birthday. I made myself a Barbie birthday cake, because I'd always wanted one when I was little, but never had one. Although I knew that it might have seemed juvenile, I decided that life was too short to not enjoy silly things like pink Barbie birthday cakes. Besides, it was just cake.
One day, I developed this blog. For years, it was a private blog. I was private, not because I was shy, but because I was so worried about who might read it. Will they want to hurt me? Although I had been enjoying many other blogs written by women, I was so paranoid. My anxiety was seeping back into my life. One day, I decided that the best way to overcome that fear was to simply do the opposite of what felt "safe" So, I publicized my blog. So far, I've been fine. I have nice readers.
The anxiety would continue to come and go from my life. It would manifest in the oddest ways. I knew that I wasn't alone in this. Many women that I know have some form of anxiety or a mild phobia. I have found that many bloggers and youtubers also suffer from anxiety. I think that social media is an outlet for people like me. There was a time when I was very agoraphobic. I was still living with my parents and I rarely left my room. It took a lot for me to leave my house. I'd leave only if I was with my Dad, a friend or a sister. Sometimes, on days when I was feeling better, I could convince myself to leave my house, but only go downtown. If I went to the thrift store, I was still close enough to home to feel safe. If I went to the health food store, I could step outside and see my house from the parking lot. So, that was manageable.
After the passing of my grandparents and a couple other family members. I decided that I'd had enough. I refused to be anxious anymore, as it was no way to live. An old friend got in touch with me, I took a chance and left my house to visit him, now he's my husband. I made big decisions that would normally terrify me, but I was totally fine. I am happy, extraordinarily happy- Giselle finds True Love's kiss- kind of happy.
This past winter was rough and stormy and the purple elephant returned. Uncontrollable fear, lack of sleep, frustration all of it. I know that it is totally irrational, but when it fills your heart and steals your breath, it seems very real. Which is why you've been seeing less content on my blog. There are so many different types of blogs out on the internet. Some blogs focus on specific topics, like frugality, baking, makeup, homemaking, religion, politics, tv shows etc. My blog isn't like that, but I felt like I had to make it something it wasn't in order to get more views. I'm over that.
I'm focusing on overcoming this anxiety issue and taking steps to manage it. I'm centering on the things that make me who I am. If I bake something and want to share it, I will. If I craft or paint or have something to say about Pretty Little Liars or Orphan Black, I will. I will be sharing some of my methods of managing my anxiety. Whatever I feel like writing about, I'm writing it. I hope you'll stick around. The point of all of this, is this- I see you, purple elephant. I know what you are and I will tame you. Until next time~ Toodahloo!
