My monsters are probably different than yours. Likelier a VERY tame representation of what a monster might look like. My monster looks like a well put together male or female, young or old, informed and uninformed citizen. They could be anything from a doctor, cna, food service worker, retail, or teacher. Anywhere in between. You’d likely never hide under the bed because of these monsters. They just blend in with everyone else. They are everyone else.

Being a kid, the people I were to trust were the same people I went to church with. They were my tribe. Three sets of God parents were supposed to protect me in the event something happened to my parents before I turned of legal age to protect myself. I was nearly in a compromising position with a dentist when I was a little girl. I almost got my bike handle grabbed by a passing motorist in the passenger (back) of the car. Strangers were scary – but so were the people we knew.

I sat in my car today, on the brink of an anxiety attack. I could feel my head throb (but not in a painful way), I could feel my chest tighten and expand. Everything I saw around me caused panic and fear. Before I had even gotten to work this morning, something awful happened. While I didn’t see the accident itself, I saw part of the result of it. I got through a round about in Green Bay, Wisconsin and a car apparently hit a deer. Again, I just saw this part: The deer had its legs broken. And all I could imagine was like it was crawling. The deer was pulling itself to safety as best as it could muster. It would get tired and straining from the pain. The deer laid its head on the roadway, only to get up and try again. I mention this because, on my way home, I saw that the deer had in fact gotten itself to safety. The deer also expired from the damage taken by the motorist.

This is by no means an uncommon occurrence. People run over animals all the time. In the last few years I’ve seen countless squirrels, racoons, possums, and deer that succumbed to the injuries they sustained by people just trying to go from point a to point b. Nature did not win. Metal did. I don’t know if it’s the realization of my identity coming to the surface and approaching a stance where I know what my biggest battle is. The battle that I cannot get away from. The fact that these creatures large and small have become like people I have lost. The animosity that I hold for people and their inability to pay attention to the road instead of their phones. Yet, even I am not immune. A few weeks ago, I hit a rabbit on my way to work one morning. The rabbit and I were both going too fast. There was no way for either of us to have time to respond. And accidents happen. I heard and felt the thump underneath my vehicle. And as I drove to work, I cried. I cried a hundred tears for that poor bunny that didn’t realize they wouldn’t live to see another day. I know the rabbit is not my friend, my mother, or a sibling. Yet it still breathes, it still loves, and it still knows about the good and the evils in this world. Probably more than we give them credit for.

I realize not all life is charmed. You don’t always win the genetic lottery regarding who your family is. There will always be something. I mention things about my experiences in church as an adolescent. Where the adults in the room should have behaved better. And sometimes when I talk about it, I feel like I’m petulant child throwing a fit. I don’t feel like my experience is really open to much interpretation. Yes, it was a true cluster fuck.

My mother was in a persistent vegetative state and a quadriplegic to boot. She was nonverbal, but existed in the shell of herself from 1991 to 2013. Every day, for an hour a day rain or shine, I’d accompany my father to the nursing home. Let’s just say we went 335 days of the year, I went 1675 hours in the nursing home in a period of five years from 14-19 years old. A person that knew my mother prior to this medical situation happened asked me if I would take a picture with both my brothers and my mom. That all of us would be in the picture together. This was one of the only times all three of us were in the same place together. And while I told the woman I would, I had no intention of doing that. Had I been the friend who knew someone in the nursing home – I’d wish to remember us all the way we were when times were good. Not like how my mother was. And knowing the pain we were all enduring. Yet any picture would show a smile. A very fraudulent smile. Only to please someone else and make them feel more comfortable. Them…. not us.

There are no words to express how hurt I feel. And while I know some day I might be over this hump, I’m so incredibly hurt. I suffered, all of our family suffered. So much of my adulthood was spent in conflict with my eldest daughter. And while my brother Tim and my dad did not shun me – everyone else that was a part of the church did. I was a non entity to them. While I laid in the hospital after having a cardiac arrest, none of my aunts or uncles called to wish me well. To ask if I was okay. To find out what happened. When I had the ICD batteries changed ten years later, they still didn’t call. They didn’t celebrate any successes with me. Maybe they tried to help remotely by sending money or cards, but it still seems so hollow. And at times, the cards are a reminder of – we’re here. You’re not. How alone do you feel now?

Every day I talk to coworkers that have families. They want to make a connection with me. Friendship, whatever. Yea, right. You don’t know me, do you? I made my family go away. If you knew me, the real me, you’d hate me just like they no doubt hate me. I talk too much. I’m too needy. I am too introspective. I make inappropriate jokes. I don’t make enough money. I’m too fat. My teeth…oh wait, what teeth? I am scared, often. Why would you ever want me???? WHY? Oh, wait…. friendship, you didn’t mention that. Shit…… look away, quick! Don’t show your tears. If they see them, they’ll ask what’s wrong. Then what will you say. If they know, they’ll judge you. They’ll judge you like everyone else did. They’ll think you’re crazy. They’ll think you’re weird. They’ll watch you suspiciously as you pass by and make comments to their friends. Their coworkers as you walk by them. They’ll subject you to screwed up rules and restraints. No one gets it. Just walk away. Grab your blanket and pillow and just bury yourself under the covers until the complete panic dissolves into the bed you’ve trusted. Your bed won’t hurt you or reject you. It can’t … it’s inanimate. Maybe that’s for the best.

I’m not crazy. I’m deeply scarred. I went to work and showed my best self. Just like most of us probably do – even though we want nothing more than to tell anyone who comes by us that we want to be alone. Yet you can’t. Social rules indicate you have to suck it up. Just keep going.

Someday, I might forgive my monsters. I might be able to look a person directly in the eyes and know they have my best interest at heart. I didn’t get to be this person without something serious happening to me. I didn’t invent this person. I lived a life I wouldn’t ask anyone else to hold onto. Yet so many people do. And honestly, some people exist in worse lives than even my own. Please, do not consider me ungrateful for what I do have. I have a great job. A great husband. Two great dogs and a cat I’m allergic to. I have a great house, and great stuff within that house. I have great friends. And when my mind isn’t spinning, it’s pretty good too!

So much work is on the table yet. Will you be here to see who I become? Only time will tell. Though, I hope you’ll see me through.

I’m not going down without a fight. I will be victorious.