absoluteinvolution: real, raw & relatable.

Safety.

Being in your mother’s arms as a newborn, warm and swaddled. Drinking milk and being kissed, you’re safe, you’re happy. A toddler awakens in the dead of night, a nightmare struck and you ran into your parents’ room, they lift the blankets and you crawl in, squished between Mom and Dad. You settle back into Dreamland and you fall quickly back to sleep. Your first heartbreak in your adolescent years; you come home crushed; the ache fills your whole body. Your caregiver brings you a warm tea, embraces you and tells you it’s going to be okay, this is the first of many. You’re still hurting, but you know you’re safe. Adulthood; we start to lose the relatives we love; death is inevitable. Hopefully you have a friend or a spouse who offers their compassion. When your world feels like it’s falling apart, you have a support system that reminds you that you’ll get through this. They give you the safety you need in the world.

When I think back to the past, I find it difficult to remember moments where I truly felt safe. I’ve done a wonderful job at blacking out most of my childhood memories, because if I’m honest with you there wasn’t many instances of safety. Yes, I had the basics; food, shelter, clothing. Not to be taken for granted of course, not everyone is blessed enough to have those things. Physical safety was never something I thought about until later on. A step parent squeezing your arm a little too tight, holding the nape of your neck so tightly you swore there would be fingerprints when they let go. Another step parent charging at you because of their own mental instabilities. You begged your Dad to do something, you shouldn’t have had to defend yourself at 12 years old against a grown woman. So, you took your little brother out of the house and you ran to the nearest phonebooth. Collect called your Mother and demanded she come get you, trying to explain what had transpired through sobbing cries for help.

Reoccurring dreams of men breaking into your home as you hid in a closet, they felt so real. You remember the sound of their voices, but your parents assured you that you weren’t home when it happened. Getting into an argument with your Mother about skipping school, she only wanted the best for you but you couldn’t understand that at the time. Speaking so rudely towards her, she slapped you in the mouth. Shock rang through your system, “You’re not safe here.” So again, you ran. All of these moments and more compiled and your nervous system entered a state of fight or flight. Flight seemed and still seems easier sometimes. The further away you are from the things that make you feel uneasy, the safer you feel. But do you really? Or is it a temporary fix for something much deeper that isn’t being addressed.

This entry is a hard one for me. I’ve never been able to make myself feel safe. I run on constant anxiety, worry and panic. My heart races, I start to feel sick to my stomach and my hands tremble. I know if I truly did need to keep myself safe, I would. My survival instincts would kick in and I know in my soul, I’d do anything and everything possible to keep myself and those I love safe.

What do I need to feel safe? Truly?

I need to know I have someone beside me, willing to put their life on the line for me. Someone who will listen to me when my worries take over. I don’t feel like I had that growing up. Kids should be seen, not heard. “Go play in your room, go downstairs. You’re being too loud!” I need someone who will embrace me like a Mother holding her newborn. I need to feel pressure. I need to feel like their hold is keeping every parts of me from bursting into a thousand tiny pieces. I need reassurance. To know that whoever I choose to do life with, won’t just up and leave me like so many have.

The last time I truly felt safe, was when my basement flooded. A cold snap had come in and I’d forgotten to change the batteries in my thermostat. My furnace never started and the pipes froze. I changed the batteries, turned the furnace on and left to spend time at my then boyfriend’s. I couldn’t spend the night in a freezing house with two small children. When I got back the next morning, I walked in to hear the sound of rushing water, a pipe had burst and my basement was now filled with almost 2 feet of water. The water was flowing over my breaker panel and I reached through the stream and started flipping switches off in a panic. Shocks of electricity hit me and I yelled for my boyfriend to come downstairs. He quickly pushed me to the side, hitting the main breaker switch off. I didn’t realize that in that moment, I could’ve died. Had the current been stronger, it would’ve stopped my heart. But without missing a beat, he stepped in and did what he could to keep me safe. I sat down on a soaked recliner and started laughing, I was breaking down. Not knowing if my house insurance had lapsed, I looked around at all my things, my kids’ toys, my life for the last 7 and a half years. I froze. What the FUCK was I going to do?

In my moment of hysteria, my boyfriend grabbed hold of me and reassured me it would be okay. He made some calls and within an hour his friends showed up to help remove everything that was soaked. We tore up carpet, underlay, we kicked in drywall and pulled insulation off the foundation. All the while, making sure I was okay, holding me, embracing me. Even telling me that I looked adorable while wearing a hoodie and sweatpants drenched in soggy carpet water. In that moment, I felt safe. I knew, no matter what happened next, I had someone beside me that was willing to do whatever it took so that I didn’t completely fall to pieces. He embraced me so tightly. In that moment I felt like his arms were holding the thousands and millions of tiny pieces of glass that were trying to shatter. This memory will live with me forever. Any time the cold hits me just right, I remember the warmth I felt in my heart on that day. Years later, I still remember the way I smiled at me when I walked up the stairs carrying dripping underlay, “You’re so cute right now.”

One day, I’ll have that feeling again. For now, I’ll remind myself that safety is possible without someone by my side and I will keep reminding myself that I am okay. I will be okay. I’ll keep working on ways to make myself feel safe, working on ways to deal with my anxieties, reminding myself that I am not helpless, I am not that little girl who doesn’t feel strong enough, heard or cared for enough. Hopefully, when God puts the right person in my path, I’ll know that whoever it is I have by my side, will give me that sense of safety once again.

-A.