I had a mental breakdown a few years ago. My life practically fell apart, and my choices only made everything worse. I was all alone, and since I already had (have) pretty bad social anxieties, there really wasn’t anyone for me to rely on. I don’t really trust people in general, despite loving humans a little bit too much for my naive heart. And, well, I lived the opposite part of the country of my family and friends. So I ended up holed up in my apartment, not picking up any phone calls from either my employer or family/friends. That wasn’t necessarily too out of the normal, the phone thing, since phone calls trigger my anxieties more than anything else… but I usually try to call or text whoever tries to contact me a bit later once I’ve collected myself. That didn’t happen this time. Long story short, I was in a bad state.
So, since I lived in a place where planes don’t go (in the frozen north of Norway), my mom figured something was going on eventually. So she got into the car and drove all the way up to me, which is a two-day long drive, picked me up and brought me home. Helped me get into therapy, backed me up with handling things I couldn’t do anymore and got me back in a better mindset.
I’m still not back to normal, but I know I wouldn’t be here today hadn’t she done that drive. So, I love you mom, for saving me.
That was hard to write.