I remember one time being so scared that I would have a heart attack in my sleep. Rob wasn’t home so that petrified me even more. I’m not even 40, how can I put myself in a position where I could drop dead from my own behaviour?
I put the cordless phone under my pillow incase I had to call 911.
But what about my kids? What would I do with three kids in the middle of the night? What would I say to them when the paramedics come bursting in the door and carry me off in a stretcher? What would I say to my parents or Rob who would have to rush to my bedside? Was I planning on lying? Yet again?
I woke up the next morning relieved that none of that happened. That should’ve been enough to make me stop. Immediately.
But the disorder ‘tricks’ you.
“See. Nothing happened. You are okay. Keep going.”
What an asshole.