PhilBillPaul was on his way home–presumably to take me to the hospital or some facility that could help me. The kids were hiding somewhere in the house listening to me cry.
I called my friend Ann to tell her my passwords and important information she could take care of while I went away. Apparently, I was thinking I might be away for a while and someone should answer my emails and take care of other details I wouldn’t be able to while I was hospitalized. Because I’m a planner like that.
I still could not breathe.
I never, ever felt so out of control in my whole life.
Ann told me to take one of those new anti-anxiety pills right then while she was on the phone with me and she insisted she would stay on the phone with me until PhilBillPaul got home.
When she was sure PhilBillPaul was tending to me, Ann then called my OB/gyn and my therapist.
Have I mentioned that my friend Ann lives in Illinois? She was doing all this for me three states and 820 miles away–I hope you all have a friend like Ann in your life…
The OB/gyn offices said to take me to the emergency room. The therapist said to try to wait until Monday because the ER would do very little and might make it worse. It’s always helpful for the professionals to agree and make good decisions on your behalf when you are no longer able to. (sigh)
I had already
screamed announced I was not going to the ER to be strapped down and sedated. I have BIG issues about being pinned down.
I took a shower. I crawled into bed and talked to Ann on the phone again because she seemed to be the only person who could calm me down. PhilBillPaul brought me something to eat. I fell asleep.
I slept fitfully and never really calmed down. The exhaustion was indescribable.
Maybe it was the rhythmic snoring that brought me to this place or maybe I just needed something to blame because no one could tell me why I felt this way. I do know that the snoring had become like nails on a chalkboard, or for me, like when someone scratches their jeans and I have to slap them to stop it.
Come to think of it, his breathing had become quite annoying too.
In the morning, PhilBillPaul left to take the girls to a basketball game and The Grunter was still sleeping.
All I remember thinking is this: I cannot stay in my own house another minute. I must find a quiet place where I can sleep. I must not be where dogs bark or kids say “Hey mama” or my husband asks me every half hour “Is there anything I can get you?”
I know that last one sounds really sweet and it was. If you weren’t me.
It was also smothering and infuriating. He just couldn’t fix me no matter how much he wanted to.
So I did what we’ve all
threatened thought about but only in our head. Or shared privately with girlfriends but always with a little uneasy laughter because none of us would ever really act on those unspoken or private thoughts…
I ran away from home.
I left a note that said I would call when I got to where I was going. I packed a bag of dirty clothes and left.
I had no idea where I was going.
Well, that’s not entirely true. I was pretty sure I was going…
To be continued…
If you missed part one, two, three or four…
Or to read more of the riveting story that I probably should just turn into a free ebook…