You're on the right road

Two weeks ago was World Mental Health Day, and I had planned to have this written and posted for the day, but between work, kids and writer's block it didn't happen. But since I am currently installing all the updates on my computer that happened while I was off for the week, I have some time to start writing this post now.

Covid almost killed me. And I don't mean the virus. The isolation, the demands on being a student and a mom with a husband who was deemed essential, and ultimately the insane depression and anxiety that came with being a healthcare worker, and not just a healthcare worker but a healthcare student in completely uncharted waters. The intrusive thoughts, the binge drinking, the complete disregard for my physical and mental health, it almost ruined me. 

When I made the choice to go back to school in my 30s, I never imagined (I mean, how could any of us predict 2020) I would be spending my clinical year separated from my kids, trying to keep them safe, each day waking up not knowing if this was the day I finally caught it. Waking up at 4 AM, making the 1.5 hour drive to the hospital, throwing on an N95 and heading into the ICU for my rotation, knowing someone was probably going to die on me today. If I sound dramatic, I promise I am not trying to be. And then coming home at 9 PM, stripping my clothes at the front door and tossing them in a plastic bag, climbing into bed and tossing and turning for 6 hours before getting up and doing it again. I missed my kids, I missed my husband (we were basically room mates during Covid)and I missed my family. 

One morning, I was driving to the hospital and I thought to myself I'm done. I don't want to do this anymore. I'm just going to park on a back road and run my car until I fall asleep and don't wake up. My kids were safe with my mom, my marriage was a mess anyways so that wouldn't matter, and I was worth more dead than alive. (This is the first time I have acknowledged these feelings out loud, but the moment plays over in my head almost daily).

I remember I had the radio on, which was not the norm for me, I usually listened to Spotify or Sirius XM, and I heard the words "You're on the right road, if it gets you where you want to go". I had heard that song a million times before, but it had never just gut-punched me like it did. It was almost like I had been slapped in the face. And I remembered why I was doing this. Because my kids deserved a better version of me, they deserved a better life than the one I was providing them. I deserved a better version of me. And that this right here, this was just part of the road I needed to be on to get to that good part. 

And I played the shit out of that song. Every morning I would blast that song driving down the highway. Some mornings I would cry my little heart out singing along, those were always the harder days. 4 years later, I still play the shit out of that song, and some days I cry my little heart out to it. Those days are fewer and further apart. 

So when I say Dallas Smith saved my life, I mean it. Had that song not come on, I don't know what would have happened. Maybe something else would have told me I was going to be OK, who knows. But at that moment, it was Dallas Smith. (So fun fact, I always like Dallas's music, I was a Default fan back in my teens and had always liked his solo stuff. I had tried to see him several times, first time I was 37ish weeks pregnant and it was the absolute hottest day of the summer so I ended up not going, and the second time was a canceled Covid show. After that I was both too broke and too uncomfortable going to live music to see him post-Covid until this year). 

I finally saw Dallas live this June for the first time (if you don't count the two songs he did with Dean Brody at the Dean Brody and friends show I saw forever ago), funny enough for our 18th wedding anniversary. And I cried. And it was such a fantastic night. And I said if I ever met him, I wanted him to know just how much his music means to me. Fast forward to July where, I clearly was making up for the missed shows, because I had a ticket to see him for my 40th birthday. I decided to go alone, because I am working on my self care and working on my anxiety. I managed to win a meet and greet. This was it. This was my chance to tell him how he saved my life. I rehearsed what I wanted to say, I had a t-shirt made of some of my favorite lyrics, I turned my office into a salon, doing my hair and make-up. I got to the show early so I could work out some of my nerves. Even as I relive the night, I am getting butterflies in my tummy. 

I checked my watch 100 times because I didn't want to be late. They ushered us into the theatre, three groups of two (the winners could bring a guest) and me. I was last to sit down. Perfect, I'll be nervous when he comes out but by the time it's my turn I'll be calm and collected. Wrong. It was my turn to shake his hand, and between the nerves and the anxiety, I felt like I was about to vomit. Good old fight or flight took over. I managed to say Hi in that completely awkward, socially anxious way you say Hi to your high school crush🫣 I literally spend my days talking to people, and I couldn't get two words together. We took a picture together, he signed my shirt and I walked off, not saying what I wanted to say, and forgetting to ask him to sign my arm ( I wanted to have a tattoo done)

I don't regret much in life, but letting my anxiety win this time, that will always go down as one of my biggest regrets. 

Will he ever see this post? I doubt it. I probably could tag his wife Kristen and hope she shares it with him, she's a pretty awesome person as well, but I comment on her Instagram posts all time and I probably annoy her (I'm sorry Kristen, I don't mean to be annoying, I promise I am a sane person🤣 plus I'm pretty funny when you get to know me so you're welcome🤣🤣🤣)

I'm thankful every day I didn't end it. By no means is life perfect, but looking back 4 years ago to where we are now, every single thing I went through was worth it. I took a different path with my respiratory career that I am so happy I did. I may not be saving lives every day and being a hero, but I am bettering the lives of people who without oxygen would have little to no quality of life. I am able to afford a life that my kids deserve, and while my mental health is a dumpster fire some days, generally I am happier (I think having goats and cows as free therapy helps, you can't feel sad if you hug a goat). 

Life is full of twists and turns. Sometimes you feel like giving up. But sometimes, something amazing is getting ready to happen. And that moment you want to quit is the moment it's happening. You're on the right road, if it gets you where you wanna go.

XO, B