I just did a mad dash down to the car inspection place, to check one more thing off the “have to” list that piles up. I could feel my jaw tighten, my foot push the gas peddle harder, my music louder as I raced (for no reason) through streets that have many unhoused humans, many young guys who held signs, asking for ____________ (you fill in the blank). As my voice got louder and louder while singing Half A World Away by R.E.M., I realized I was feeling resentment…..for many reasons, but what came to mind was a question I get asked, that makes my goose bump hairs break off. And that is this: “So now can you stop worrying about Aidan? He’s doing well.”
I turned up the volume again, screaming the lyrics, “My mind is racing as it always will. My hands tired, my heart aches. I’m half a world away, here.” THAT is my answer to that question. And because that will probably not suffice, I will give a lived experience example of WHY.
Monday I was driving to a class. I was at a red light. I saw something that didn’t seem right. My mind (which is pretty much in a constant state of hypervigilance, scanning for danger…so I say out loud, “Is that a person?” I’m locked in on something that looks like a body, but its on the ground and facing a brick wall. That IS a person. I turn into the little parking lot to see if what I thought I was seeing was this- a male body, clothed, back to parking lot, flat on the ground, facing the wall, shaking….whole body shaking.
I’m then telling the 911 operator this, in response to the question “what is the nature of your emergency?”…Hi, yes, I’m on the corner of Dana and McArthur, in a little parking lot and there is a guy on the ground shaking, rocking back and forth. I think he needs medical attention, he might be having a seizure or overdosed.” And as I heard my words, I realized that this person, this human on the ground, could be Aidan. Maybe even has been Aidan. And my desperation on the 911 call, was probably being fueled by trauma. TRAUMA….that doesn’t just stop. Just because Aidan is doing well, when I see this, I know that can be Aidan. I see on the ground someone’s son, there is a mom out there sick to death wondering if her son is alive or dead.
HE is my son. Whomever that HE is. I know that I would hope that someone would call 911 if they saw Aidan on the ground (which did happen when he was having a seizure!). I will be in a place of, “Oh, guess what, I stopped worrying about Aidan! ” That is me. I hear there are those out there that have found a way to not worry. I’m so happy for those people. I’m not that. Of course I celebrate the little victories (see pic below!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!), and I’m grateful for every moment Aidan is alive, and I can find joy (usually through connection), but I will never stop seeing Aidan in the guys on the ground.
As I saw the flashing lights and began to hear the sirens coming, I knew that my part had ended there and that the med techs were taking it from there. And. I also knew that trauma response can pop up as so many things, in so many different ways. And this is one of mine.
Aidan’s Ask Not Award, from the sharing of his story in Patrick Kennedy and Stephen Fried’s new book Profiles in Mental Health Courage.
Little Truth Tales 