Last week was a hard week. My husband was hit head on in a car accident. His car was totalled. My daughter and I had just gotten out of bed. I was actually in the bathroom when she barreled in and said, Dad’s been in an accident and he is calling from the ambulance. A thousand things ran through my mind. What if he has broken something, then he told me he thought he had. What if he needs surgery. I can’t drive to the hospital. How will I get there. Who will make sure he is okay. What if he is admitted. Who will take care of US? My daughter is ill, I have serious medical issues, what are we going to do. So I thought Okay, I need to get people to pray for him. I better start asking. I sent out prayer requests. Then I called a few of his friends who promised to go and put eyes on him and give me a full update. I sat down on my bed 2 hours later, forgetting I had not eaten breakfast, pacing the hallway with legs that are nolonger able to pace, and I realized I had not prayed. So I did. I prayed that all of my whatifs did not come true.
And they didn’t. He did not break anything. He did not need surgery. He was able to come home that night. Everything was okay. I had immediately panicked when I should have just immediately prayed. But I am human. And I am pretty darn helpless and vulnerable when it comes to my health issues. I rely on my husband for everything. He is my everything. He takes us to appointments, grocery shops, shops for everything our family may need, works full time, and more. He rubs my legs when they are unbearably painful. He comforts me when I am having a PTSD moment. He holds me when I have a nightmare or when a memory has come back. His car accident scared me. It brought out tons of fear and when that happens for me, PTSD comes into play full force. It was a challenging week. But I kept saying, he is alive. He is alive. He is okay. Everything is ok. He survived. Now was not the time to think about everything he does for us as a family. We spent 6 days with him at home feeling grateful that he was okay.
So when I woke up and my hair had all broken off I didn’t lose my mind! I didn’t have a panick. I didn’t start to cry. I knew my hair was headed down a pretty bad path. But in any other time I would say I would have completely lost it over my hair situation. I mean….Let me show you….Really….Pictures do speak!!!
My daughter kept wondering why I was not more upset about it. And in all honesty, I did grab a pair of scissors and plan to hack it all to a nub. But words from my therapist came into my mind. I had no control over my hair any more than I could have controlled my husband’s car accident. I could only control how I reacted to it. So I made a hair appointment today and I’d say…given what she had to work with….she did some miraculous things. The bottom one was after I had come home and the stylist had styled it for me after cutting it. The nice little filter one is after I tried to work with it myself and my daughter put some flowers on my head. Either way, the entire hair experience was not anything like I thought it could be. Things were in perspective.
The whole point is….my husband is alive. So my hair all broke off. My husband is alive. I may have PTSD and I may not be able to control some things that come but I am not going to let my hair dictate my happiness. At least not today!!!!! Things seem in a pretty good perspective. Because my husband is alive. Thank God. He is OK!
I wish I could make this perspective work on absolutely everything. I tried. But with PTSD and anxiety and smell triggers, I can’t talk myself down from those. But we must celebrate the things in life we can talk ourselves down from. They may be few but they are something to recognize, validate, and celebrate! Today, I celebrated my calm approach to having a professional cut my hair instead of many alternatives. Today, I just felt grateful. I’m holding on to that as long as I can.