When you see me walking my dog I might appear to be normal. When you see me at the corner store I might appear normal. When you see me sitting in church ahead of you, behind you, or next to you I might appear normal. When you see me waiting at the doctor’s office I might appear normal. When you see me at the airport waiting to board my flight or sitting near you on a plane I might appear normal.When you see me rocking out at the concert nearby I might appear normal.
But I am not. I am far from it.
When you see our family being loud, laughing, being goofy, and boisterous you might think that we appear to be a normal, happy family but we are not.We are far from it. Looks can be deceiving and you can’t tell by looking. Don’t be fooled. By looking at us you’d never guess that my kids hate me, that they, my hubby,and my mother demean, devalue, dismiss, degrade, bully, and gang up on me, or that I’m miserably unhappy and feel trapped in a life I hate and in a place I hate and that I am desperate but helpless to escape.
You wouldn’t know that I often cry myself to sleep many nights, my heart broken and wounded, after YRS of trauma, loss, hurt, brokenness, wracked with deep depression, struggling with Asperger’s and Social Phobia, that when you see me in those places I often just want to run, with panic attacks so intense I just want to bolt, with panic and fear rising up inside me until I almost feel like I’m suffocating and have to get out of there,heart racing, away from other people, somewhere where I’m alone and safe by myself. You’d never guess by looking at me that I harbour deep dark thoughts of suicide,have fantasies of how I’d kill myself, or that I am consumed with self-loathing and hate myself and my looks so much I just want to destroy myself and wish I was dead. You’d never know a constant sorrow always follows me because you can’t see it.
I might appear to look normal but I’m not. I struggle with all these horrible things, all these raging turmoils inside, all these scars,hurts,pain, inner darkness, deep unhappiness, misery, and regret. We might look like a normal happy family but we’re not. The most “normal”-looking people can turn out to be the most broken and the most hurting.
The most abnormal.
For us, “normal” is just a setting on our washer and dryer.You never really know what secret hidden battle someone is fighting.