This is the blog post I am scared to make. Scared not because of the thought of sharing it with the very private internet but, it's just that the journey is not over. My story is not one of a girl who has overcome anxiety but one of a girl who is trying to find a way through it. It has been a long road full of self doubt, raw emotions, and crippling thoughts. It is a war with myself; there are countless battles and sometimes I win but there is no lack of times I lose. This is a sensitive and unstable struggle. The smallest things may lead to the bloodiest (figuratively of course) of battles and the outcome is always unknown. So that is why I am scared. Im afraid that as I explain this story a fight may erupt and this whole blogging idea may do more damage than good.
But, hey, you never know until you try. Right?
Oh but where to begin! I could begin here but then you will need to know this for later so maybe I should start at that one point but then what about the time in between those things? Ugh. I'll guess I'll just start at the somewhat beginning .
Prelude: This is pre-anxiety Breanne, somewhere on a beach, sometime in June, 2014
About two days into our family vacation full of sun, sand, and food I noticed a rather large bulge on the right side of my neck. We had just eaten dinner so it seemed to be related too eating but it was not painful just large. After about thirty minutes it went back down. I honestly was not that concerned I thought maybe I was getting sick or something, maybe it was a lymph node, and also I didn't have insurance so I didn't really want to pay to go to the doctor. Once we returned home from our vacation it happened again and this time my friends and boyfriend said that I should get it checked out. I obliged.The doc said it was a salivary gland that got partially clogged causing the swelling during/after eating. He gave me some meds, told me to drink plenty of water, and try eating some lemon heads to get the saliva going. I did all these things and it went away, yay!
Chapter 1: Achilles was my Achilles Heel
This is Achilles. He was beautiful, sweet, and honestly just the perfect dog. He loved us and we loved him. He was our baby boy. I am not going to explain the whole story because I am already sobbing and the details are not needed. The point is that at a healthy age of six Achilles became sick and after three bouts with antibiotics and several vet visits later, we lost him. He had an ultra sound that came back clean and three weeks later an exploratory showed tumors too big and too aggressive to stop. That was it. Three weeks. We were devastated. I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that in just three weeks he went from healthy to terminal. That could happen to anyone. Me. It could happen to me. Or my mom. Or my boyfriend. What if I had cancer? I would never know. What if its too late....
Right here is where my story begins.
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