Panic Attacks

As we were going through the criminal trial I heard the term secondary victim. It means that even though the crime did not happen against you it effected you in such a way that you too became a victim.

I don't like to think of myself as a victim. I think of myself as an overcomer, as strong and stubborn, sometimes too stubborn. I did not have an easy life. I was born out of wedlock to a mother that had an undiagnosed mental illness. She successfully kept me away from the majority of my family. I moved more often than a military kid and was often asked if I was military. My mother couldn't keep a job or a roof over our heads. I learned early on how to diffuse situations and read a room of people. I was often the go between to smooth things over with roommates or landlords that wanted to evict us. My father was not present for the majority of my life. My mother was not on drugs, nor was she promiscuous, so, I was spared some trauma in that. She was volatile and manic. I had to read her moods and know when it was safe to talk to her and when to stay away. All of that made me strong and resourceful. I learned how to take care of myself and my mother from a young age. I certainly didn't think of myself as a victim.

Then all the abuse came out that my daughter faced and we entered the criminal legal world. Suddenly I was having panic attacks. I was having a hard time sleeping. I'd stand in the shower in a daze with my mind replaying all that had happened, all I'd learned, every encounter I'd ever had with the abuser. I tried to be the strong person I've always thought myself to be, but things kept happening that made me feel very weak. I couldn't think straight. I lost focus. Things became a blur.



One day I was in a Walgreens and from down the isle I saw a man that looked similar to the abuser.  Same body shape, same walk, my chest started to hurt, my heart beat faster and I just wanted to run. I wanted to get out of that store. Rationally I told myself, "it's not him, he's in prison. It's not him." Yet I felt like I couldn't breath. We left quickly and I sat in the car feeling overwhelmed with anxiety and fear. What was this? Where did this come from? The court stuff was over, and here I was and it was just hitting me.

My mind played all the times he had come into my home. He had started buying things for my youngest biological daughter. We had him over to go fishing and play games and grill. We had this man in our home. My heart beat faster.  I heard his voice as he left our house one day turn to my kids, MY KIDS and say, "I love you guys." He had just met them. He was buying gifts, and saying things like that, he must have had plans. Plans to hurt my babies. My heart beat even faster and I felt a lump coming up into my throat. I wanted to throw up. "Calm down," I told myself, "You never left him alone with your kids, you protected them, they are safe." Yet my heart still raced. Large sweat spots appeared on my shirt. I heard his voice in my head, "You know you should come to my house for movies, I have kids movies, it would be best for everyone if we spend more time together." Again I felt like I was going to heave. "God help me," I cried out. I took deep breaths and blew them slowly out. We never went to watch movies at his house. We always watched him like a hawk, we always kept our kids removed from him. His language was unpredictable and foul. My babies were ok. My babies were safe. Then tears welled up in my eyes…not all my babies. Not my newest baby, she wasn't spared. She hadn't had a momma to protect her before. My chest ached more for her. "Why God, why did she go through that? Why wasn't he stopped before he ever got to her?" I had no answers.

I realized I was indeed a secondary victim in that moment. That was not an isolated incident. I have had many like them. They come on randomly when I see something that triggers a memory of him. Yet, not as badly as that time. The only good I see in it is that I have a glimpse of what she's going through. Now I understand why when we were going through Costco and our cart came close to a man similar in age and build she lunged for me and held on for dear life screaming. Now I know why she ran and hid under her bed shaking one day saying she was scared he was coming for her. I can empathize with the overwhelming feeling that comes on suddenly and makes you feel too paralyzed to think rationally. I can walk her through breathing deeply, and tell her the truth that she's safe, he's gone in prison and I can hold her until she's calm again.

I am strong, but I am also oh so weak.

2 Corinthians 12:9-11
And He has said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for power if perfected in weakness." Most gladly therefore, I will rather boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me. Therefore I am well content with weaknesses, with insults, with distresses, with persecutions, with difficulties, for Christ's sake: for when I am weak, then I am strong. 

God may I be strong through you. Thank you that your Grace is sufficient and that you are bringing us through. 



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