Oxygen Mask Project

Asking me how I came to this particular website, is useless. I can’t remember. I can barely remember to brush my own teeth. But, ask me the stats on the rate of autism and I can spout them out as if I was the original researcher. Ask me how to spell “Orton-Gillingham” and I can do it in my sleep. Ask me a thousand things having to do with my children or husband and I can have perfect recall instantly.

Ask me anything about myself…..crickets……silence……sigh.

I have let myself go, I have sunk into a depression and, and, and…..I just don’t know.

I do know one thing. I am ready. I am ready to reclaim me. Starting now, today, this blasted hot summer. I may be slow, sloppy and unorganized but I am going to start. I am ready to put the Oxygen Mask on myself first. (wow, I didn’t get struck down by lightening…whew…wasn’t really sure when I was typing that sentence).

Again, I don’t know how I came to their website. I can’t remember. I just know that it has lived at the top of my favorites bar ever since I did discover it. I have enjoyed reading the other women’s accounts. I see myself in almost every single one. I see parts of me, parts of my marriage, parts of my kiddos, parts of relationships past and present. I like that. It’s comforting. To be a voyeur to someone else’s reawakening and empowerment. It’s nice to know that they are there, just a click away, doing their own lives and trying their hardest with struggles similar to mine.

But its not enough anymore. The satisfaction from watching others begin and succeeding at their attempts to reclaim their individual selves, has waned. There is nowhere else to go. There is nothing left, no excuses, no time, no waiting, no hesitating, no fear. G-d isn’t that a laugh….no fear left. I can’t possibly be afraid of any attempt because there is nowhere else to go. There is no more bottom. I am there.

All that’s left is to go up. To begin. Again. To put the oxygen mask on myself…..finally…….and breathe. Gently.

I must go gently at first. I need to remember that, in this state, I am fragile. I need to try to take care of myself and go gently. Gently, slowly, but in motion. I have never consciously treated myself gently.

I must go back to those brave women who have already begun their journey’s. Back to their words, to remind myself to go gently. To begin. To breathe. For me this time. Just for me (it still doesn’t come naturally to me to type those words).

Perhaps in time.

For now, it’s enough to make the attempt. To begin.

Thank you for my beginning Oxygen Mask Project.

Lanie

Share This:

twitter   email   goodreads   linkedin   pinterest   g