This weekend I received my first real inspiration for the book. Tonight I wrote a page and wanted to share. Hopefully you find it entertaining. The feelings are definitely real, but as I was processing these feelings before another dreaded event this weekend, I started noticed my son's super heroes on the floor. It triggered an image of myself as a super hero. Quickly I ran down the list of familiar super heroes, their powers, weaknesses, transformations, etc. It was then I realized, imagining myself as Wolverine, really helped me feel better and cope with the anxieties and frustrations I was feeling inside. When I shared this imagery process with my husband and best friend, they both laughed, but also expressed that the explanation of the imagery helped them to understand me so much more! Enjoy!
Sane Woman Turned Wolverine
My jaw begins to tighten up. Breaths shorten and become shallow. Muscles throughout my entire being feel the familiar surge of energy. Tension shows in ripples across my forehead. Adrenaline has kicked in. It’s time to leave. Safety is gone. The life guard is on duty.
Our destination is supposedly “safe.” Deem it what you may, but no place is ever “safe.” There is always a threat. I plead mercy for the inflicted and for myself. We’re almost there.
“Deep breaths,” I remind myself. “Stay calm.”
And then it happens. We enter. I am provoked.
There is a delicately decorated candy dish filled with luscious chocolate covered nuts of every kind beautifully presented on the coffee table for all to enjoy.
Teeth clench. Fists tighten. It’s as if my heart stops beating. Claws emerge ready to kill.
With all of the muster in my being I try to contain myself.
With all of the muster in my being I try to contain myself.
“Would you mind removing the candy from the room please? My son is allergic. It is very dangerous to have it around while he is here.”
“Oh, he’ll be fine. We’ll keep an eye on the little guy. Besides, the candy is wrapped. He won’t get into it.”
“No, really. It is too dangerous. We will not be able to stay if it is here.”
“Stop being so paranoid! He’ll be fine. Sit down and make yourself comfortable.”
I can’t reign in the urge to kill any longer. I bite my tongue to prevent the words from being heard.
“Why can’t you understand this? I have spoken with you about this before! Are you trying to kill my kid! If you are going to have this stuff around, we will not be coming here again!”
After the brief pause to contain my urges, I am quick to respond, “I’m sorry, we can’t stay.”
Quickly, I scoop up my son and head out the door. One more place we are not welcome. There are so many.
How long did it take extended family members to take me seriously? Friends? Acquaintances?
When did I turn from being a sane woman into Wolverine?
The answer comes too quickly-when my son was diagnosed with severe food allergies.