Chapter 12 - I WASN’T CRAZY
I hated that sentence.
For months, people said:
“See? You weren’t crazy.”
Trying to comfort me.
I wanted to scream.
I had anxiety.
That was real.
Sometimes intense.
I had panic attacks after Noah’s hospitalizations.
I sometimes checked his breathing more than necessary.
I woke Ryan once because Noah snored oddly.
I asked Dr. Reed too many questions.
I was not “perfectly calm.”
None of that made Evelyn right.
I stopped needing to erase my mental-health symptoms in order to defend myself.
That was important.
My therapist told me:
“Your goal is not to prove you never overreact. Your goal is to respond proportionately more often.”
So I worked.
I learned which respiratory signs mattered.
Stopped counting every breath on healthy nights.
Allowed babysitters trained in his action plan to care for him.
Let him start preschool.
That was terrifying.
Then liberating.
May you like
Safety could not mean trapping Noah inside my fear.
I refused to let Evelyn’s abuse turn me into the caricature she had invented.
