Healing Was Never My Issue. Outsourcing My Voice Was.

After I left the hospital, I wasn't just bringing home a baby. I was bringing home the belief that everyone else knew me and what I needed better than I did.

I stood for nothing, so I fell for everything, and I believed that if I could just find someone certain enough, I wouldn't have to be.

I trusted a friend who was a real estate agent to help us find a home… She sold us her own house. Even to this day, I still feel conned by someone who was a trusted family friend.

The place that was meant to be my sanctuary. The place where the outside world doesn’t exist. My safe place. My home, full of warmth and comfort. Ended up being one of the biggest stressors in my life.

From rat infestations to contaminated water, and my husband needing to spend every weekend working on the house to make it livable. It was a living nightmare for the first house. And I was still left alone with my baby, unsure of what I was supposed to be doing or feeling.

I didn’t have a place in my life where I felt like I could release. Work was full of people I no longer trusted, my home was a place I couldn’t trust, and my parent’s home wasn’t supposed to be mine anymore. The stress just kept building in my body with nowhere to go.

I went from having 2 undiagnosed SVT’s (Supraventricular Tachycardia) before pregnancy, 2 during the pregnancy to 11 episodes during postpartum. I have never had that many, and I never have had that many since.

Every SVT felt like confirmation that my body was failing me. I was afraid to be alone with my daughter, concerned I would lose consciousness. Unsure if I would be able to get myself to the hospital. I was always on edge of what would happen, and how I would handle it. Several times I told my husband to prepare to take me to the hospital.Then other times, I quietly excused myself to another room without explanation so I didn’t have to make him worry about me anymore.

I was consumed by constant noise.

I was exhausted. My mind and body had been wrestling for my attention for so long that I shrunk even further.

I made myself smaller and easier to be around.

I only shared the good, even if I didn’t feel it.

I kept my actual fears to myself while internally screaming. I'm scared! I don’t trust my body! My house is hurting us! I need help!

I spent 18 months lost, drifting, listening to everyone and anyone to tell me about myself. I even remember thinking whenever I found someone offering advice that I just needed them to tell me what was wrong and how I could fix it, because then I could do it.

Looking back now, I wasn't searching for answers.

I was searching for certainty.

More specifically, I was searching for someone who sounded more certain than I felt.

If they had a degree, I believed them.

If they'd raised four kids, I believed them.

If they sounded confident, I believed them.

If they had letters after their name, I believed them.

If they had more followers than me, I believed them.

Everyone else's certainty became louder than my own.

One by one all of those beliefs failed me, because no one knew what I needed or could tell me what would work. And the more I pretended I was fine on the outside the more distrust I bred on the inside. Like my mind and body were at war over who got to be right.

My mind said,

"Smile."

My body said,

"Something isn't right."

For eighteen months, I couldn't tell which one to believe.

Still here,

Bethany Marks

Protection, understanding, and unruly confidence.

-Nettles