Embarrassing Story Time! đ I have a bit of an embarrassing story to tell, but because it very directly pertains to the subject of mental health, I feel compelled to share it here. Please know that I am NOT making light of what some people struggle with on a daily basis. Instead, my goal is to transparently share my absurd story, in hopes that others can see what my eyes were opened to â that although panic is at times very illogical, it is still very real.
This spring, we decided to buy a pool for our backyard. It became clear that even if the pools do open this summer, we probably wonât want to go hang out with large groups of people who spit, pee, and wipe their runny noses directly into the water. Yuck.
So we scoured the internet for the best deal, ordered our 15-foot Intex pool, forced our children to watch YouTube videos about pool maintenance, found out our order was never going to be delivered because it was damaged in transport, ordered another pool, and finally received the blessed box that promised to contain several summersâ worth of entertainment for our family.
Despite the fact that it was April and barely 70 degrees, we wasted little time in opening that box and setting up the pool. We found the most level spot in our yard, spread the ground cover, and got to work putting it together. Then we turned on the hose and watched in anticipation as it very slowly filled with 3,841 gallons of water.
As it filled, we noticed that maybe our ground wasnât quite as level as we first thought. In fact, once the pool was full, we could see that one side was about two inches lower than the other. It didnât seem like too big of a deal, though I was rather nervous in some ways â especially since that one side of the pool seemed to be bulging out quite a bit. And that side of the pool was closest to our house.
However, we pretty much just ignored it and let the kids play in the freezing water for a couple weeks.
Then it rained one day â a lot. We have a pool cover, and by the time the rain was done, the cover was filled with quite a lot of dirty, nasty water. Josh, Micah and I attempted to pull the cover off of the pool while allowing the rain water to be funneled over the edge of the pool. Unfortunately, water is really heavy, and we failed in that attempt. What we did accomplish was to move the cover with all that heavy water to one corner of the pool â the corner that was already strained because it was holding more water pressure than it was designed to.
THANKFULLY, the wall of the pool didnât collapse. However, the support posts sunk drastically lower in the ground, and it became clear that if we didnât drain and move the pool, we could have a disaster on our hands.
As we drained the pool and watched all of that precious, perfectly balanced and chlorinated water run out of the hose onto the street, I was quite discouraged. We had wanted to do this really fun thing for our family, and we had pretty much just messed it up. Because it was going to be cold for at least a week, we let the mostly empty pool sit for a while until we could summon the energy required to sufficiently level the ground for Attempt #2.
This past Saturday was finally the day when we were ready to try again. We got started mid-morning. First, we emptied the rest of the water out of the pool, and then moved the pool and the incredibly nasty tarp off the rancid, awful-smelling grass underneath. Then we started the process of adding some dirt to make a level surface.
Thereâs an area under our treehouse that has long-been considered the âdig area.â This is the place where the kids were allowed to dig when they were little. Itâs also the only place the dog is allowed to dig, but he hasnât quite gotten the memo on that yet, unfortunately. Anyway, this area is where we put excess dirt when we happen to have it from some project, or we also pull dirt from it when we need it for another project. So obviously, since we needed dirt, this is where we dug from.
Apparently, however, some earthworms had been making this area their home for quite some time. As Josh started digging, he remarked on the amazing number of worms, and how we should use them for fishing sometime. Although I donât really like squirmy things like worms, and I especially hate snakes, I didnât really think too much of it. I have a garden, and Iâm used to coming across the occasional worm. In fact, when I see one Iâm usually kind of excited because I know how good they are for the soil.
I wasnât prepared, though, for the sheer number of worms that were in that dirt. As Josh filled up the wheelbarrow and moved it to the area we were leveling, my task was to break up the dirt clods and spread out the soil with a rake. However, I was quickly revolted by the number of worms. There were so many! Every time I hit a dirt clod with the rake, there was another one (or two or three). And some of them were HUGE! I was trying to be careful because I didnât want to kill the worms, which almost made it worse. Every time I saw a worm, part of my brain would freak out because it was so disgusting and sneaky. The other part of my brain would say, âBut theyâre so good for the soil. Be nice to them!â I kept making weird comments and noises, trying to laugh off my extreme aversion to the worms. I tried trading tasks with Josh, thinking that if I did the digging it would be better than breaking up the dirt clods, but it was just as bad. I found myself almost retching, but then laughing at myself and trying to tough it out. I donât see myself as a squeamish person, and I can generally fight my way through most things. It was an insult to my pride that I was being so dramatic about it, and that I couldnât just suck it up and push through it.
I kept pushing myself to keep going, and then after one more disgusting dig, I finally gave up, ran to the house with my arms flailing like a windmill, and said, âI canât do it anymore!â I yelled inside for Micah to come and take my place, walked to the middle of the yard, and then I laughed at myself, and then I couldnât breathe, and then my legs were shaking, and then I was leaning over with my hands on my knees, and then I was bawling for no apparent reason.
In short, I had a full-on panic attackâŚover earthworms.
As I said before, I try not to be a dramatic person. I try to tough things out and Iâm a really hard worker. I understand the power of mind over matter. But there was something about that particular situation that sent me into a panic attack. It made no sense. It was completely illogical. It wrecked me for a few hours â at first I was shaky and couldnât walk without help for a while. I was on edge, completely exhausted, and embarrassed. I kept my sense of humor and was able to laugh at myself, but it continued to have an effect on me. I kept replaying the whole experience in my head, and apologized to Josh multiple times for being so dramatic. His words of comfort were so helpful though. Despite the fact that I felt like Iâd had a ridiculous reaction to an absurd situation, his simple response was, âItâs still very real, though.â
And that is the truth. Despite the fact that I had an extreme reaction to a simple stressor, the reality is that my physical and emotional response was very real. It wasnât something I did for attention. It wasnât a choice I made to overreact. I wasnât trying to get out of work. The reality is that my body and my mind had a very extreme reaction to a seemingly benign situation.
As I was sitting on a patio chair, recovering from my first-ever full-fledged panic attack, it struck me how incredibly difficult this must be for those who experience this as a normal occurrence â and especially for those who have traumatic memories that are triggered by small, seemingly harmless situations.
That afternoon I reflected on the fact that this definitely goes in the top five worst experiences in my life. I donât actually have any such list, but if I did it would probably be on it. It was miserable and it was awful and I never want to experience it again. But Iâm thankful in some ways, because I was given a very, very small glimpse of what some struggle with regularly. My sense of compassion and empathy is expanded because of this experience, which is why I chose to share about it here.
If you have a loved one, friend, or even acquaintance who has struggled with a panic disorder, I hope that my sad, slightly humorous story has allowed you a brief glimpse into what a seemingly illogical reaction might feel like for that person. I know it has definitely given me a new perspective. And if this is something that you personally struggle with, Iâd love to hear more about your perspective if youâre willing to share.
Youâll be happy to know that our pool is now level and full again, and that my children are currently freezing their butts off in there at this very moment. And although I doubt Iâll ever swim in it without thinking of the large number of worms crawling in the soil beneath it, Iâm looking forward to joining my children soon â once the weather gets above 75 degrees. đ
Feeble Hands 