The Bitch Advice

The other day, I felt, once again, that undeniable feeling; my heart beginning to race, the uncontrollable shake of my hands, small beads of sweat starting to form, an overwhelming feeling of uneasiness and fear and for the umpteenth time this year, I knew I was having another panic attack. It comes on slowly but before you know it, it grabs hold and there is little you can do to tame it. You just have to ride it out and wait for it to subside, which unfortunately, for me, takes at least 30 minutes. I was frustrated by the fact that these attacks still visited me, especially after I felt as if my life was, at the very least, heading in the right direction. Not great…but under the circumstances, I was managing. And just as my panic attacks crept up on my so did the reality of my plight. I knew that my life was not perfect. I certainly had issues but didn’t everyone? I realized that the stress I had been through over recent months had taken its toll and it was finally catching up to me in the form of anxiety. Simply stated, I was no longer in control of my own life. It was being run by other people. It is not an unusually foreign concept to me as it was taught to me early in life. Things like…take a backseat to everyone, try and please all around you, be afraid of everything, always be accommodating, keep quiet, never speak up, don’t get angry for fear of what others may think, etc… These are only a few of the examples on how I have learned to run my life. Until now, that is. Make no mistake though. I am not having a pity party not am I sitting back placing blame on the bystanders or participants in my life. I, alone, am responsible for my circumstance and every single day, I take on the overwhelming consequences of being a doormat.

An amazing person in my life, whom I have come to trust more than any other human being, told me that all I had to do to correct my situation and to stop the panic attacks was easy. It surely wasn’t going to be some little pill that would alleviate my stress and anxiety. The answer was simple, at least in his eyes. He said I needed to learn to be a bitch. I suppose some would argue, at times, I already am but he meant a different kind of bitch. Not the kind that thrives on hurting others but rather, the kind that rises up in protest when someone is taking advantage of me. The kind that lends a protective cover from the hurtful blows that people can throw. The kind that teaches me to say no to people and things that don’t deserve my time or my loyalty. The kind that teaches me to stand up for myself and allows me to speak my mind regardless of what others may think. The kind that gives me the knowledge and the strength to let go of things in my life that are no longer good for me, in spite of my heart telling me to hold on. The kind that understands the difference between those who have my best interest at heart and those who simply have their own interest at heart. And lastly, the kind that teaches me to have a thicker skin when it comes to heartaches, to endure life’s disappointments with a little less impact. Changing from the “good, always there, never complaining persona”…to simply “bitch” persona could prove difficult for me but for my own sanity and well-being, I promised this individual that I would make the effort. Realizing that this transformation was not a complete change in my personality but merely a modification of the me I’d always been. I was fairly confident that I could somehow lean to be a bitch. To somehow turn off all the emotions I was feeling about everything and everyone around me and concentrate solely on myself. I was also confident that the world would not collapse and that people would still go on in spite of my absence. All would be well even if I chose to bow out for awhile.

So, during my “transformation” of sorts, I am hopeful for many things. I hope I can learn to speak up, lighten up, smile a lot more and jump into my small, beautiful world with both feet. I hope I can learn to let go, take it easy and let the insane world around me, run itself. I hope I can stop beating myself up over people and things that I have absolutely no control over. I hope I can put the words “no” and “I don’t’ want to” into my vocabulary of life. I hope I can learn that everyone is responsible for their own lives, their choices and the consequences of those choices. I hope I can find a balance between the things that are important to me and still remain the kind of mother, daughter, sister and friend I have always been. But my greatest hope is that maybe after this experience, after becoming a bitch of sorts, I will end up being a happier, better version of myself…

It must be said that in my 37 years of life, I have been given plenty of advice; some good, some bad, some even catastrophic but certainly advice to become a bitch is a first for me. Gaining a bit of humor and possibly for the first time, a backbone, I thought I might take a chance and run with it…

P.S. I’m tossing out the doormat!