I stood in my kitchen, momentarily stunned, a vacuum whirring happily in my hands.

The feeling that washed over me was, for the first time, not dread. It was not a migraine either. Nor was I wasted. It was not fear either.

No, for the first time in as long as I can recall, I was calm. At peace. In the moment.

It seemed that for once, I had finally achieved peace.

While I’d not gone into the doctor, anxiously dreading that appointment to talk about my anxiety issues, believing I could actually be fixed, there I was: fixed. No longer broken.

After living, impatiently waiting for the other shoe to fucking drop already, for so many years, I could hardly imagine a world in which I did not wake with my heart pounding loudly, my guts churning painfully, my soul full of impending doom.

And yet, there I was.

I thought to myself, as I resumed vacuuming (no one can keep a good vacuum down, after all), this is the way the rest of the world feels most of the time. How shockingly simple this feels.

And then I tried desperately to kick myself for waiting as long as I did to seek help. (Pro tip: you cannot kick yourself while vacuuming without falling squarely on your ass.)

I could have spent years – years – not feeling that way, and I decided to tough it out. And for what? For WHAT? A jaw-grind disposition to a panic attack? Migraines? Insomnia? Unhappyness?

Hardly seems like a list of shit to be proud of. I toughed it out so I could break my teeth grinding them to nubs in my sleep. Spend my nights awake, weeping, reliving ghosts that could’ve been put happily to rest many years ago.

Even as we roll into the dog days of summer, it appears that my dog days are, in fact, over.

I couldn’t – haven’t – ever been happier.


When I found out my dear friend, Razing Mayhem, was throwing a blogathon for Band Back Together, I actually cried real tears without the aid of a stunt double or an onion. If you want to read about her efforts to help out a place where we kick stigmas in the vagina, Band Back Together, please go and visit her.

THEN I will give you a cookie.

Or twelve.

27 thoughts on “All That Remains

  1. Should’a

    Who cares…

    You done it… That’s The Important Part.

    Good on you, Good for you And just plane good 😀

    Now… Everybody Outside and Play…

  2. I don’t believe you…no more hoops until I actually see the cookie…because I want to know exactly what I am working towards, please!

    So glad that you are fixed! I hope you enjoy your newly found fix-ed-ness!


  3. I sooo love this … and that feeling you describe so well. Before we lost the farm (literally) I loved sitting out on my back deck of a morning, watching the sun begin to peek over the barn and sipping hot coffee. Early mornings when everyone else (including the four-legged ones) is sleeping is when I find my calm, my peace. I miss enjoying that on my deck overlooking our five acres but I still try to find it in the early morning hours. May you have tons and tons of peace and tranquility of spirit Aunt Becky! And a fabulous 3-day weekend too!

  4. The hardest step is always reaching out and seeking help. But you’ve done it.
    You’ve done it.
    I’m so glad you’ve found your calm and your happy. May you stay there for a long, long time.

  5. Congratulations on finding your happy place Aunt Becky! I am so very happy for you! Sending you bunches of sparkles and many BIG hugs! Continue to take care of yourself and know that we all are rooting for you to have peace in your heart for a very long time!

  6. Anxiety. It definitely has a grip on me. Driving and crowds. The thing of it is, I have to drive 77 miles every day to work. And I’m taking on new clients to drive to their house. Oy. I mean, gut wrenching oy. I freak out the whole time I’m in the car. Fear. No one seems to understand just how much fear I feel every single day. I am very happy for your feeling of calm.

  7. Good. For. You! I recently went through something fairy horrific & ended up in therapy (plus meds) for PTSD. It totally sucked. But finally I saw the light at the end of the tunnel. It was hell getting there, but I did. I’m happy that you are happy. You deserve it.

  8. Hola Amiga! WOW…I have never felt one ounce of peace while cleaning. lmao. Holding a vaccuum wouldn’t be soothing for me, unless everybody left the fuckin’ house first, HA! Ok, I can be crude my apologies. (I think you don’t mind.)

    In seriousness, I’m happy you found some serenity. I rarely feel that feeling, but it’s a beautiful one isn’t it? Then so goes life once again. Glad I found ya in the spotlight. I wanna see what makes aunt beck tick. Does mommy want vodka? Well it’s only 8am here, but I wouldn’t mind something by mid day with my clan, lol. I can’t handle the hard stuff like I did when I was younger though. One day we’ll have a drink, let the hubs watch the kids, and really feel a peaceful moment that last a little while. How nice?

    xoxo Shelly


  9. This is awesome to see! I have felt the same, hey you dumbass why didn’t you get help earlier feeling recently when I realized that the meds I take now are seriously helping with depression. But better late than never fo sho.

  10. Great news. You deserve a big pat on the back, not a kick in the ass. You are one of the strong ones who got there at all. I’m curious, what aspect of your counseling do you think was most helpful?

  11. Great news, AB! Yeah, it’s so great to rise above it and sort of skim over the surface of the sad and the scared that used to be overhead. The high waves still hit, but they can be tolerated, since they’re manageable now.

    If bigamy weren’t a crime, I would SO marry Mr. Lexapro!

  12. I think we have to prove we are SuperWoman first. And when we finally realize we aren’t, then we ask for help. It took me 11 years to figure out I wasn’t a comic book character…and it wasn’t very comic.

    So, I am raising my little brown prescription bottle to you, because life is really a great place when you aren’t listening for the thud of a shoe.

  13. That’s amazing that you feel this way. I remember the first time I realized I was happy it was a startling realization that I didn’t see coming at all.

  14. I’m cheering from my chair. I’m so glad that you’ve found some peace. When I kicked my 2nd hole in a wall, I got on meds (my mom had similar issues). BEST THING I EVER DID. I’m so happy for you.

  15. Please, what can you share about your path to your peace? I have struggled with life altering anxiety disorder and panic attacks for years, and my greatest hope is to one day find an inner peace. I have tried counseling, relaxation techniques, and several medications, and am feeling as though this will be a life long curse. I’m 28 years old, and the idea of feeling this scared for the rest of my life is the most depressing thought I’ve ever had. Please, any advice you can give would be wonderful.

    1. Becca, speaking for myself, I had counseling and I have Lexapro, but the most useful thing was this: Somebody told me not to expect to feel good all the time, even with the meds and the counseling. There are going to be times I’m sad, times I’m scared, times I make happy little plans to leave the world behind. What the meds and the counseling give me are handles to hold onto until the bad times pass. I don’t know about Aunt Becky or anybody else, but my peace is not permanent, it’s just so delicious when it’s here. HUGS

      1. Becca, I agree with Marian – one of the most important things to remember is feelings are fleeting. I know there are days when I can barely drag myself out of bed I’m so depressed. Others, I bounce right up (okay maybe not exactly bounce) and face the day head on. One thing I’ll add, surround yourself with the most supportive people you can – I realize that isn’t always possible, but it helps to have a cheering section rooting for you. I haven’t followed Aunt Becky long but through her I discovered the Band and if you haven’t visited there yet, please do. It helps immensely to know you aren’t the only one who is facing these issues and it is also helpful to see where others are in the process because it is that – a process. We face it each and every day, some are good days and some aren’t so good. But as someone wise once said, “Just keep showing up.” Blessings and warm hugs to you Becca.

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