I never thought I’d leave…

In the last year I have lost my home, I lost what I considered friendships, I lost the old me, I lost peace. I’ve spent the year, trying to rebuild what was lost. The thing is, I wish I hadn’t spent so much time doing so and worked more on learning from those experiences and embracing it, in its entirety. You see, when I became a mom, I lost prioritizing myself, I began to prioritize another human being and making sure she was growing in the best of circumstances. All the while, it was never as such. There was chaos, imbalance and hurt while I was learning to be someone completely new and for someone else.  My family was meeting someone new too, not my daughter, but me. I was bitter, angry and sad all together and could not seem to find the grip on the bottom of my shoes, to the ground that was shaking underneath. From moving to many places with a newborn, to my relationship with my partner in life on a tight string, and my job triggering emotions that might have been building over the years, I just didn’t know how to grasp it all and keep it together.

When I had my episode for the first time, fear overcame me. During the six months I was out on medical leave, I tried my hardest to find me again, to break down the wall that I had built. I struggled with trying to be happy, with trying to feel grateful and to feel blessed that I made it out alive. I never had a lack of bonding with my daughter, if anything I feel she saved me many times. She has been crucial to my recovery. To finding glory in the mornings and to pushing for someone other than myself. So I believe part of the separation anxiety I experienced amongst other emotions and undergoing difficult circumstances, my body shut down and it was time to take a moment, to breath and listen to what it was telling me.

When I was recovering, I spent all that time listening to my needs, to my wants, to the things I yearned. There has to be a lesson from all that’s happened to us as a family. Part of that recovery included disconnecting from news because I felt that it did trigger emotions and fears that I felt as a mother and as someone who’s seen so much behind the scenes. I am more sensitive to issues, of all kinds and I couldn’t stop putting myself in everyone’s shoes. The shoes of those affected, the victims, the families hurt, the abused, the mom who could also be me, the list was never-ending.

So when my time of recovery had ended, right on my first week back, I tried my very hardest to go in with a positive mindset. I went in to work with my high heel booties, with my long locks curled, and my lashes sky high. I thought coming in with looking my best, might contribute to how I feel, it might help me feel better, but from the moment I went in, I was experiencing high anxiety. Anytime I was asked what happened last January, I would swallow the lump I felt in my throat and proceeded with a facade to prove that I am superwoman somehow, and then I'd get to my desk, and realized how far back I was pushing the tears that wanted to stream down my cheeks. Then, came the assignments, the ones where school shootings were involved and I had to listen to testimonies from students in a court room recounting their worst day and the tears would finally fall. You could say it was pretty difficult to be positive. The stories and the PTSD I experienced, just was not helping me and it felt like months of progress, had retracted.

Just getting up in the morning, I had to prepare everything for my daughter, I wouldn’t eat my usual breakfast, I would try to pack some lunch and my water to go, and then I'd have to be out the door, on a conference call, on my way to work, try to get there in time with traffic jams, get there, log in, try to pee when I could, not because I couldn’t, but time is of the essence; then before I could snack something because I just remembered I was hungry, it was time for another meeting, and then another meeting right after that and in the meantime I’m working, I’m making phone calls, sending emails, requesting graphics, looking for archive footage, recording interviews, and then when you think the day is almost done, it’s not; I hadn’t even had lunch yet and it’s 5:00 p.m.. Then I make sure everything is good to go with the stories and then we send it and then it’s the show and then another meeting. I’m now driving to pick up my daughter and when I go to pick her up, if I get there in time and head straight home, I’m lucky to have a solid 30 minutes to play with her, but then I have to shower her and feed her for bedtime. And when she’s fallen asleep, I’ll miss her until the next morning.

Let me say this, when you get to stay home with your baby all those moments, it’s a true blessing. My situation was unfortunate, but the best thing I could see from it all, is that we spent every single day with her and didn’t miss a milestone. We didn’t miss her giggles, her stumbles, her trying foods for the first time. We watched her enjoy the sunset, afternoon walks and her first time feeling a breeze. I was getting home now at 8 p.m., to rise at 7 a.m., rushing to get everything ready and then at work all day long. Sometimes my daughter was undergoing a sleep regression for a few weeks at a time and I also couldn’t catch up on a full night of rest.

You’d probably say why don’t you do everything when she sleeps, you see other times I could, but now I am mentally and physically drained. My anxiety is so high that it causes insomnia. So then I’m lying in bed, looking at the roof for hours at a time, and thinking, “this could not be it”.

I was amazing at my job, I don’t mean to sound like I lack humility, but I was awesome. However, I was no longer passionate about my career. My priorities changed when I became a mom and way before I became one, I knew that I wanted change in my professional journey. My job was the “it” position for a long time coming and yeah pay was good, but it didn’t matter. I didn’t see my future headed the way it was going, let alone, I didn’t think I’d survive it. So within that first week, I decided. I talked it out with my husband, and we agreed that I wasn’t happy, and I don’t need to be a perfect mom, but Layla needed a happy one.

I prepared my two weeks’ notice for my resignation, and I prepared myself to have a very difficult conversation with my boss. I sobbed all the way through because I felt like I was letting so many people down. My mentors, my teachers, my colleagues, my bosses. It was also difficult because this company gave me so much in such little time. Yes, my reputation goes with what’s been said about me, I work hard, I’m organized, I give my 110 percent to all tasks, and I work until I’ve accomplished whatever goal I set myself for the day to complete, usually means the interview I booked or the package I finished from start to end. But coming back, I was a zombie. I did my work with my eyes closed, there was no ambition; if the story came through it did, if it didn’t, I didn’t care much and I dreaded being assigned something I couldn’t handle emotionally. I believe this is what they call “quiet quitting” these days, but I personally would like to call it, realizing when you’re experiencing awakening. I dreaded the idea that I might have to say no to staying later when it was supposed to be me to fix whatever needed to be fixed. I dreaded the possibility of breaking down one day or having a pseudo seizure at work, it was quite overwhelming and the cap on the bottle was due to pop any minute now. I dreaded the days where I was finally with Layla and she just wanted to sleep and didn’t want to play and I had to wait till the morning to talk to her. I dreaded the thought of Layla missing mommy all day long. The days that she was wide awake when I picked her up and I was able to catch her jiggling her feet and arms just for me to carry her and hug, always made up for the day I had at work; but there were more days that I didn’t get to see that, than the days that I did. So, my decision was simple.

If there’s anything I’ve learned, is that you’re always replaceable at a job, but not to your family. So here goes to never getting old, even when changes come about. Here’s to flying with the wind and feeling the breeze as you drift away not knowing where you will land. Here’s to discovering yourself, every turn you make, and learning that you’re one step closer to finding a better version of yourself. I needed to sacrifice the old me , to allow expansion to come into my life, whether it was spiritual, physical or mental, I needed to make space.

I saw myself re-evaluating my life story. It took me to fall apart completely into dust, to gather the pieces of my life, put them together in a box and create a new storyline for my daughter, for my husband, for my family and most importantly, for me. Never fear risk, as with risks, there’s always reward.