Episode 19- Target

It was a cold and wet evening in mid October when Cody sent me out to run an errand. This particular day had been exceptionally bad for me and for no real reason at all I had spent most of the day in and out of tears. I wouldn’t be surprised if I’d gone the entire day with out food and water. Whenever I tried to pull myself together, something would remind me of the nightmare I was living and the feeling of hopelessness would consume me all over again. Each time I felt the baby move I would be overcome with feelings of guilt. Guilt for not wanting the baby, guilt for despising her for what she was doing to me, and guilt for being such a dreadful mother. For days I had been fantasizing about what it would be like not to exist anymore. I don’t think I necessarily wanted to end my life, I simply didn’t want to be alive at all…not ever.

Cody could tell by the condition of the house and the expression on my face when he walked through the door that evening that something was very wrong and I needed to get away. The house was in total disarray. Dirty dishes were piled high in the sink, laundry was scattered through out the entire house, and I wouldn’t be surprised if Ethan was still in his pajamas covered in his breakfast. Truth be told, I didn’t even shower that day.

It didn’t take a genius to realize that I needed help, so my dear husband told me to get away for a while so he could take care of Ethan. We had been doing some organizing in the basement and had run out of plastic storage bins, so that seemed to be the ideal thing for me to go fetch from the store. I didn’t hesitate when he said I should go. I was in such a fog from all the crying I had done that day, and I don’t remember grabbing my car keys and heading out the door. I just remember that I suddenly found myself driving down the highway, and from the surrounding landmarks I gathered that I must be heading toward Target. At this point my whole body felt numb and I didn’t think in a million years that my tear ducts had anything left to give. So I pulled in to the Target parking lot, took a deep breath, and headed through the front doors.

Once inside the store, I felt the world spinning around me. I looked up at the fluorescent lights and I saw a jillion little spots dancing on the ceiling. For a few moments, I couldn’t even remember where I was or how I got there. I grabbed a shopping cart and began to push it. I knew I was there for a specific purpose and I figured if I wandered long enough I would remember what that purpose was.

And then I smelled it. It was the familiar scent of popcorn making its way from the snack center and suddenly I was taken back two decades to a little league game in Texas. There I was, six years old standing in the ball park complex where my brothers played ball each season. The smell of popcorn lingered in the air and I never failed to beg my mom to buy me a bag of my own. Popcorn and cherry flavored Jolly Ranchers which where always sold at the concession stand seemed to be staples of little league for me.

But there I stood in what seemed to be a million miles from the security of childhood. There in that Target store I stood with my hair still damp from the rain outside, breathing in ever so deeply that familiar scent of innocence. The simple smell of popcorn instantaneously reminded me of what it was like to be naive, small, and unattached. I kept my eyes closed tightly as not to let in the reality of what lay beyond the safe feeling of the Bear Creek Baseball Complex in Houston, Texas.

My body felt completely weak and I didn’t think I had the strength to face yet again the despair that was encompassing me. As long as I kept my eyes closed I could feel my dad’s warm embrace around my tiny six year old body. I could even detect hints of Old Spice aftershave on his skin. And I knew that if I stayed like that long enough, the soothing sound of my mother’s voice reading to me could be heard above the ringing cries of help in my head.

I’m sure I looked like a moron standing there like I was. Then I heard a voice come over the PA system and I suddenly jerked back to reality. That flicker of happiness was gone in a second and I realized I was still standing there holding on to the cart. Oh that’s right. I had come to the store for something. I still couldn’t remember what it was, but somehow my feet obeyed the message sent from my brain and I began to walk. My empty shopping cart felt as if it had one thousand pounds in it and it seemed impossible to push.

As I started down one of the main aisles, I looked straight ahead of me and even though it was probably only two hundred feet to the back of the store, it looked as if it was an endless trek to reach it. My perception of everything was utterly blurred. Everything continued to spin around me, but I kept on walking. I could hear noises around me. People were talking, music overhead was playing, even the wheels on the cart were squeaking. But it was all an empty echo in my head. All life around me was being played in slow motion.

I guess I decided to wander until I recognized what I had come to the store to get. I have no idea how long I wandered for, but at one point I rounded a corner to see a display of neon orange and black storage bins. Who on earth would pick such hideous colors to keep in their house? And then I remembered it was nearing Halloween and above the display was a sign that read “For your Halloween décor needs”. I thought for a minute about whether or not to buy storage bins in such dramatic colors. I thought about it and thought about it. Looking back, it was a very trivial decision. One might say to themselves “Who cares about the color. They will be stored out of sight in the basement anyway.” But to me, as I stood there weighing out the pros and cons in my mind it seemed astronomical.

My body began to tremble and I could feel the hot sting of tears welling up in my eyes. Why couldn’t I get my head on straight enough to make such a simple decision? If I chose not to get them in that color, I could easily find some others in another department of the store. It really wasn’t a big deal at all. But at that moment I couldn’t think rationally about anything, and I suppose this was the final straw for me.

I buried my face in my hands as to control my sobbing. I wasn’t going to let this monster take a hold of me again, not right there in the middle of the store and give strangers the opportunity to gawk at this crazy lady. Somehow I got a hold of myself, wiped the tears from my eyes, and began pulling bins from the shelf to load into the cart.

For some reason I had the impulse to take off one of the black lids, perhaps because I thought something scary might be lurking inside. After all it was Halloween. I unsnapped the lid and peeked inside and of course found nothing but the potent smell of plastic hit me. Satisfied with the emptiness, I went to snap it back on. And then I saw it. On the underside of the lid was a bright yellow warning sticker with a horrific sketch of a baby being locked inside. In huge black letters it read “Warning- may cause suffocation.”

I can barely describe what I felt next. My heart began to beat so fast that it felt as though I was having a heart attack. It was as if I was living that experience with the Zoloft from September all over again. The pit of my stomach came right up to my mouth and I could taste vomit. I quickly clasped a hand over my mouth and luckily swallowed whatever had made its way back up my esophagus. This time there was no possible way to control the tears and they poured like faucets from my eyes.

I dropped the lid I was still holding on to as all strength left me and I sank to the floor. Something inside of me began to scream and I longed to let it out for all to hear. Instead, I sat there and sobbed silent tears into my jacket sleeve. I clenched my eyes closed and all I could see was Ethan’s little body lying lifelessly inside that bin. It wasn’t real by any means, but it didn’t matter to me. In my mind it had already come to pass. Part of me really thought that when I went back home that night I would be met by paramedics and neighbors telling me that Ethan had been found dead inside a storage bin. All logic was totally gone and I sat there and cried for my loss.

I don’t know how long I was there on the floor, but it was probably somewhere around five minutes. I wonder how many people passed by me asking themselves what in the world could be wrong. At one point I felt a hand on my shoulder and I looked up through blurry eyes to see a man in a red shirt kneeling beside me. “Are you okay, Mam?” I could hear fuzzy voices coming from his walkie talkie and I could see his nametag which read “Chris”.

I looked at him blankly for several seconds, wiped my eyes and told him I was fine- I was just having a bad day. Normally I would have been humiliated by what had just taken place. But in my state of mind I don’t know if I was fully aware of anything that was going on. Chris then asked me my name and it was as if everything inside of my brain was gone. I didn’t know how I had gotten to the store, what day it was, or even my own name! I knew I had to tell him something, and I think I told him my name was Jennifer or Janet or something like that.

All I wanted right then was to be exiled away from all life. I wanted no one around me and after a moment, Chris walked away. Somehow I convinced him that things were okay. Again I’m sure I did a great job of lying, something I’d become a pro at in the last few months. I gathered all of my lost marbles from the floor and gained some composure and decided to finish what I had set out to do when coming to the store. I loaded up my shopping cart and attempted desperately to push the image of Ethan’s lifeless body out of my mind.

It seemed like a never ending walk from that aisle up to the check out stands, and it seemed like an even farther distance from there to my car. After I made my purchase I said to myself “Okay, now all you have to do is make it to the car and then you can explode again.” As I stepped outside I could feel the rain falling down all over me. The air was frigid and I thought for a moment that it was far too cold to be July. Why was it so cold if it was summer time?

I looked around me, so confused and alone. “No wait a second,” I thought silently. “Halloween decorations were out in the store. It must be October. The cold makes sense then.” Even though I was freezing and wet, I was in no hurry to get to the car. I walked sluggishly through the parking lot, taking in the chilled, damp air. It so perfectly mirrored my every thought and it was like the weather itself was the only thing on the face of the earth that understood how I felt. So in some twisted way, I took comfort in it.

I loaded the storage bins into the car and slumped down in the front seat. I sat there for quite a while, starring vacantly into the night. I didn’t care that I was soaking wet from head to toe or that my hands were so cold that I could barely feel them. And then from out of no where, a sound ruptured from deep within my soul. It came out in such a violent way that it almost scared me to hear it. I began to scream and scream, and then scream some more. It was like everything that had been bottled up, everything that I was afraid to tell anyone, every bit of anxiety, anger, and fear came bursting out of me. I felt like a three year old child throwing the tantrum of the century. The tears gushed freely and I clutched my abdomen as I felt the baby begin to kick vigorously. I’m sure that this outburst was quite alarming for her. I was crying in heaves so hard that I thought my lungs would burst. I could imagine the baby saying “Mommy, why are you so sad?”

“I don’t know!!!” I yelled out. I started banging on the steering wheel with my fist. “I don’t know why this is happening to me! I don’t know what’s wrong with me! Why me?! Why, God?! Why?!”

For the next several minutes I had a very intense conversation with God. Well, it wasn’t really a conversation so much as I was simply letting God have it. Then the fear and anxiety changed to pure rage. I was so angry with God and I wanted Him to know exactly what He had done to me. I felt like He had taken this perfectly capable, sane, happy, thriving human being and broken her. And for no reason at all! “Is this some kind of joke to you? Do you get a kick out of seeing me like this?” I felt so powerless and the only way to combat it was to scream. Here was God, this gigantic and powerful being, totally in control of my life and everything that happened to me. And here I was, an insignificant pawn in His little game. I was being tossed around, moved this way and that, all for His pleasure.

And so I yelled, and cried, and beat my fist so hard that one of my knuckles began to bleed. “Why won’t you just take this from me?” I pleaded over and over. “I know you can. You can do anything, and yet you won’t do such a simple thing for me. Make me sane again! Let me sleep again! Make me want to live! Take these terrible thoughts from me! Just give me back the person I once was!”

I caught my breath and sank back into the seat. That episode had completely exhausted me and I had no more voice to yell. “Okay, God,” I sighed “You win.” I sat there in the dark for a long time and cried for the better part of an hour. And then by some miracle, an ounce of logic entered my mind and I had the brilliant idea to listen to the silence. I bowed my head and humbly prayed “Dear Lord, please help me. Help me.”

I don’t fully understand what took place next. All I know is that I was suddenly calm and the foreign feeling of tranquility overtook my body. It had been so long since I’d felt anything like it, but I sat there and tried to absorb it. Then it was as if I saw a flicker of light before me. I know it wasn’t a real light, but in my mind I saw hope. I was encompassed by this deep, dark tunnel, and at the end there was a pinhole sized light shining through. I think that when we are going through a trial, God does allow us a little breathing time. Wave upon wave crashes down on you, but in between each one you get a second to take a breath of air before the next one crashes. And as I sat there in my car on that cold and rainy night, I was allowed a small breath of air. I was completely aware that the calmness I was feeling was fleeting and that I would likely feel the despair and confusion again.

But for a tiny moment, I was calm.

Episode 18- The Move

The big day finally arrived. We closed on our house and moved in on September 24, 2005. That first night in our new home was crazy and a little unerving, but I made it through okay. I had been looking forward to the moved because it meant a fresh start for us. No one new of my condition and I was going to do everything I could to keep people from finding out. Even if that meant that I was a hermit, I would keep it a secret as best I could.

Everything surrounding our new house was a stresser for Cody and me. It had taken a toll on our marriage, even before my illness began. We had been house hunting for months and we couldn't agree on anything. There were days when divorce seemed like the only option for us! Not really, but it was very stressful. Then I found this new dvelopment and I was excited about it. Cody, however, hated it and was against it from the start. But in the end I won and he resented me for it.

Then I got sick and our marriage suffered terribly. Looking back on it, I don't know how we survived as a couple. I guess the test of true love is when things get really bad, are you willing to stick it out and make things work? Or will you hit the road. There were times when we wanted to hit the road. Cody began going to see Schneiman with me every once in a while and it never went well. I would talk and he would clam up. Then we would leave there and he would say he had been "attacked" by Schneiman and me.

His resentment toward me about the house got so bad and we fought about it all the time. I often wondered if it was really about the house, or was it something else. I felt like he really resented me about the illness, as if it was my fault. Or maybe it was too much for him to deal with and he wished he'd never married me. I thought he wished he had married a more sane woman; a woman who would never get sick like I had. He didn't deserve this. He deserved someone better, somone stronger, someone who could be a better wife and mom.

I hoped and prayed that was we settled into our new home, both Cody and I would feel better about the situation. But at one point I called our realtor and asked him what he thought of us trying to sell the place. I wanted to know if we could break even on what we'd bought it for. I was desperate to fix things between Cody and me. I prayed that time would heal it.

Despite my best efforts to stay hidden from the neighbors, I met Becky one day while I was unpacking the garage. She mosied over across the street and introduced herself to me. I did my best to be friendly and polite, but on the inside I felt like a small child on the first day of kindergarten and I was scared. I was scared of being found out! But I would later realize that Becky truely was one of my greatest allies during this ordeal and I would grow to rely on her very much. I thank God for sending Becky into my life to be my friend when I needed someone like her.

Episode 17- Zoloft

Dr. Draper and I had discussed me going on an antidepressant, but I was not in favor of adding another drug to the mix and I wanted to see how I did without it. And since things had been going a little better, I thought I could manage on my own just fine with out it.

Then things took a turns for the worse and the attacks started coming frequently and I was crying all day long. Again I began having irrational thoughts that the baby was harmed and that I was a terrible mother. There were days when I couldn't even get out of bed. Then on a Sunday afternoon I was reading in Parents magazine (I loathe that magazine, BTW) and there was an article about prenatal depression. It talked about how the placenta can actually be damaged if the mother is depressed. There were other things mentioned in teh article that scared me beyond belief, so I decided to try the Zoloft.

The doctor had given me a sample pack at a previous appointment and I had it on hand, so that evening I took my first pill. I was aware that it would take about two weeks to work so I wasn't expecting a quick fix. But I also wasn't expecting that I would experience every side effect listed on the label.

The next day was pure hell. I was dizzy, I threw up a lot, my mouth dried up, I shook like a leaf, I was more anxious than normal, and my heart rate was accelerated. I decided to give it one more day so I took another dose Monday evening. Tuesday was even wrose, if you can believe that. I could not function at all and Brandi came over to babysit me during the day while Cody was gone.

I called my mom that afternoon (she happens to be a PharmD) and asked her if what I was feeling was normal. She went down the list of drugs I was on and said that Trazodone is actually an antidepressant in itself and I was taking 100-150 mg a day, so I could actually be overdosing when combining that with the Zoloft. I decided the side effects were worse than the depression and anxiety so I decided to throw the pills away.

That evening Brandi, her little boy, Ethan, and I went to get dinner and then to see the development on our new house. It was all but done and we walked through it and sat in the empty living room and talked. We would be closing in one week and I tried to feel happy about it, but I couldn't get past how awful I was feeling at the moment. I was trying to distract myself from my misery but it wasn't working.

We drove home, but on the way there I noticed I was breathing very hard and my heart rate had accelerated even more. Brandi helped me back into our apartment and I sat down on the couch. Cody was home by this time and Brandi told him what had happened on the way home. It was like all of the ill side effects I had experienced were now ten fold. I ran to the bathroom and started throwing up again, then I laid down on the bathroom floor and had what I thought was a heart attack. My chest hurt beyond words and I could not breathe.

Cody paged my doctor and when he called back he said to get me up to the hospital for an EKG. What I was experiencing was not normal. On the way out the door I grabbed my Ativan and Trazodone and downed a few pills in the car. Brandi was so sweet to stay at our apartment with Ethan. By the time we made the twenty minute drive to the hospital, I had calmed down immensely and and I was in a state of euphoria. The EKG came back normal and they chalked it up to a massive panic attack. Who knows what had really happened though. We drove back home and I crashed very hard when I hit the pillow.

Episode 16- Different To Others, Too

For a people person, going through something like this is terrible because it turns you into a socially awkward person. For the first time in my life I knew what it was like to be shy.

Cody's family reunion was coming up and I dreaded it. Many of his family members knew what had happened and I hated to see their pitty faces. I didn't want people to feel like they had to walk on egg shells around me. I didn't want people to see me as fragile. I would have rather stayed away from the reunion all together, but I was a good sport and I went along.

It was a weekend ordeal and I lasted okay during the first evening's activities, but as we were driving to his aunt's house for ice cream, I started having an attack and I became hysterical. The thought of being around people made my stomch hurt. I felt that I couldn't do it but somehow I managed to pull myself together and I made it through the night. But I knew what people were thinking the whole time and it made me ill.

At the end of August we had our ultrasound and that was the first time since I "snapped" that I felt at all close to the baby. I had felt close to Ethan from the first moment I found out I was pregnant. By the time we had the ultrasound I felt like I already knew him completely. Then by the time he was born I felt like I'd known him forever. I longed to have that same closeness with out baby.

We found out it was a girl and that everything was perfectly healthy. They could find no traces of anything wrong with her and I felt a little relieved, but not fully convinced. But I tried to put it out of my head and focus on my daughter and what all that meant. I was estatic and for the rest of the day I was on cloud nine. It was as if God granted me a small break and I felt good again.

For the next week or so I was doing okay. My attacks were not happening as often and I was sleeping just a little better (heavily medicated, of course). We went to Cody's parents house for Labor Day weekend and I felt tranquil, even with his family around. In fact on Labor Day we were sitting out on the lawn and I felt the cool breeze on my face and I remember feeling peaceful and happy, for the first time in a long time. Things seemed to be looking up and as we drove back home, I even said to Cody that I felt good.

Schneiman and I talked about it later in the week and he seemed hopeful. Perhaps things in my mind and body were evening back out. Maybe things were looking up.

Or maybe it was the calm before the storm.

My sweet baby girl
Labor Day in Idaho

Inside My Own Liberty Jail

I hate to interrupt the episodes, but I have to share a few thoughts; thoughts that have hit me like a ton of bricks tonight.

I have been watching KBYUTV tonight and I've seen/heard some great talks. But one talk in particular had profound meaning for me. I wish I could put this talk into words for you, but I can't find the text version. It is a CES fireside given by Elder Jeffrey R. Holland. You can listen to the talk here, and I highly recommend that you do. Take 30 minutes out of your busy schedule to listen. You can actually download it onto your Ipod and listen while you fold laundry! But at any cost, please listen to the talk.

I believe the talk is entitled "Lesson from Liberty Jail" in which Elder Holland speaks about the trials that Joesph Smith went through during his stay there. This part of D&C has always been so meaningful to me, but as I listened to Elder Holland tonight I likened it to my experience these past three years.

The trials I went through (and my family too) were so intense and there were days when I really thought I wasn't going to make it. I probably felt a lot like the Prophet on more than one occasion. Continue reading the saga and you will understand why. I felt that the Lord had forsaken me and I was alone. Why was this happening? What had I done to deserve it? When would it be over? How would I make it through? These thoughts circulated my mind on a daily basis.

I continually prayed for strength, although there were many days when I was about to give up and I felt that my prayers weren't going past the ceiling. But looking back on it, I see that the Lord was so close to me during this trying time. It was when I felt the weakest that His arms encircled me and held me up. It was when I felt that I could not make it that He carried me piggy back across the depths of despair. The words of D&C 122:7 keep coming to mind as I reflect on this.

"And if thou shouldst be cast into the pit, or into the hands of murderers, and the sentence of death passed upon thee; if thou be cast into the deep; if the billowing surge conspire against thee; if fierce winds become thine enemy; if the heavens gather blackness, and all the elements combine to hedge up the way; and above all, if the very jaws of hell shall gape open the mouth wide after thee, know thou, my son, that all these things shall give thee experience, and shall be for thy good."

This trial was given to me for a reason and I am so much stronger because of it. If I could have only seen things at the time the way I do now. But my vision was mortal and couldn't see past the moment that I was in. I am so thankful to the Lord for trusting me enough to give me such a challenge. I know that He only gives us what we can handle. I saw what I was made of and I am thankful that I was in fact able to sit in Liberty Jail for a time. And I'm thankful that the Lord carried me out of it.

Sorry again for the interuption, but my heart is full and I felt that it may burst if I didn't get that out. Keep reading and my words will ultimately make sense to you.

Episode 15- When the Sun Goes Down

4:00 in the afternoon became my least favorite time of day. I could feel it in the air and in my bones. When the temperature reached it's peak and began to fall, I knew that night time was imminent and I tried to keep my anxiety at bay.

Night time held new meaning for me. It meant that another round of insomnia was beginning and it was a battle I could not win, no matter how hard I tried. As I made dinner each night I would look to the cabinet where my drugs were kept. My hands would start to shake as I looked to my next dose. I would count the hours until I could feel the Ativan seep into my blood. It felt like a warm bubble bath encompassing my body. Then the Trazadone on top of that and maybe a Xanex....oh it was pure ecstasy.

The days were getting shorter as it does after the summer solstice and it only made my anxiety worse. Autumn has always made me feel a little blue and I feared for what lay in store for the next six months. I didn't know how I would cope once the cold weather hit and I was no longer able to get outside and enjoy the sunshine. But it was still August so I tried not to dwell on that.

Each night I found solace in three things. The TV show "Everybody Loves Raymond" was one of them. On one particularly bad night I was on the verge of a massive attack when Cody sat me down on the couch and began rubbing my shoulders and helping me with my breathing exercises. We were watching TV and this show just happened to be on. I recall sitting on the living room floor with him as he helped me through the attack, all the while hearing laughter from the TV. Despite the drama I was experiencing, I felt safe and I appreciated the comic relief from the sitcom. From that night on I turned the TV on to that show and it instantly took some of my desperate feelings away.

The second thing that brought me comfort was the movie "Ferris Bueller's Day Off". Again, one night I was having a hard time and Cody turned this movie on and we sat there together and laughed and it relieved the pressure from the attack.

The third thing that brought me comfort was the movie "The Sandlot" and that was for the same reasons already mentioned. Are you beginning to see the pattern here? I found that TV or movies was a great way to distract me from my depression and anxiety. It was a superficial and temporary fix, but it was a great way to keep a massive attack from occurring. I found that the key was catching it before it got out of hand and that's what these shows did for me.

I started watching each of them (at least in part) on a nightly basis and it quickly became routine for us. In fact, I would pop my pills, grab a pillow, then lie down and let Hollywood do it's thing. I would soon drift off to sleep, then about halfway through the show I would wake up, go to the bathroom, wander into bed and I was usually able to go back to sleep in very little time (thanks to the high doses of drugs of course). This is how every night played out for us for weeks.

One thing I wanted to mention is that Cody and I were no longer sleeping in the same room by this time. Since my sleep patterns were so sporadic and restless, I began sleeping on the spare bed in Ethan's room. For some reason being in the same room with him took away some of my anxious feelings. I guess it was being in there listening to him breath that helped me.

Episode 14- A Changed Person

Someone had died.

I would walk around each day with the sick feeling in my stomach and heart that one might feel after losing a loved one. I wasn't really dead, but the part of me that used to be vibrant and full of life was no more. She may as well have been dead and I was certain she wasn't coming back. Things I once loved didn't hold luster for me anymore. Things that used to bring me joy now brought me misery and confusion.

I had once been a person who was in control of her life and her surroundings. I got things done. I was a go getter and I feared almost nothing. That is not true because I feared people thinking less of me. I had been working in the primary presidency at church for a long time and I was on top of things. I know people thought of me as a pragmatic and responsible person. But after my downfall, I knew that their opinions of me had changed. I was fully aware that word had spread through out our ward and I was mortified beyond belief.

Our house was going to be finished in one month and I decided to hide out from everyone I knew. I was looking forward to moving because it meant that I could start fresh. No one in our new community would know of our circumstances and I felt that I could leave it all behind and re-invent myself. Oh if only life worked that way.

I had once been a daring person. Schneiman and I talked about this numerous times and he believed that the old Veronica was not dead, but had been shocked into hybernation. He said all we needed to do was wake her up so on one occasion he gave me an assignment. He said he wanted Cody, Ethan and I to go to the local ski resort and ride the tram. It would take us up to 10,000 feet elevation and drop us off at the top of the mountain. Then we would catch another tram back down to the resort. He wanted me to do this because it was a great opportunity to practice REBT in a real life setting. (I will touch more on REBT in a later episode).

So one Saturday we packed up and drove to the ski resort. To shorten the story, it was a terrible and frightening experince for me. I was overcome with panic the whole time and after we got off the tram, I got on the ground and held Ethan and sobbed like a child. I cried because I was scared, but I cried more out of frustration. Why did I feel so much anxiety from the experience? It my normal mind it would have given me a rush and I would have gotten to the bottom and jumped right back on to do it again. But there I sat on the cold cement, clinging to my child, my knuckles white with fear.

Where was the old Veronica? Would I ever meet her again?

This is us at the top of the mountain after riding the tram. The smile on my face is very forced.