Jump Start

IN THE NIGHT

My mind awakens. I don’t know the time. My husband is sleeping next to me, I can hear his soft, rhythmic breathing. It's comforting to me. The pup is at our feet, I feel her head resting on my leg. The clock taunts me from across the room with its almost inaudible tik-toc. Not knowing the time drives me batty, but my eye mask keeps it dark, I am almost too groggy to care, I fall quickly back to sleep...

3 A.M.

My mind awakens, this time I don’t feel as sleepy...I don’t feel as if much time has passed since I previously awoke. Then again, in the late hours of the night, time can spend itself in any way it chooses. I try sleeping again, but this time it proves to be futile. Maybe if I empty my bladder, then hopefully I can fall back to sleep. First though, I must check the hour. It still taunts my mind not knowing where we stand in the night. Do I have two hours, or eight hours, or thirty minutes left to sleep? I have to know. I roll over to look at the time. Three o’clock in the morning. Quietly, I slip out of my warm cocoon and head to the bathroom. When I return, I climb back into our tall, comfortable bed. The blankets are warm and cozy, I draw my eye mask over my eyes and begin my attempt. I roll to my right side, then to my left. My mind seems to be on a speedway, it won’t allow me to drift away again. Maybe, if I bore myself with some news articles on political turmoil and the pandemic that our country is currently facing, that might be enough to help me sleep again. I begin reading articles that look semi-appealing.

4:30 A.M

I am startled by my husband’s alarm. I am still reading articles on politics and the pandemic. They’re monotonous, sure, but not enough to lull me back to sleep. As I glance at the clock, I realize, oh it has been an hour and a half. I know that though. He wakes at 4:30 A.M. for work.

“How long have you been awake?” He asks in a sleepy voice.

“Since three.” I say flatly.

“Why?”

“I don’t know, I just couldn’t sleep.” I say to him in a tired voice as I set my phone down and turn to face him.

We don't get up right away. His second alarm goes off. It sounds like it's blasting in my ears, it isn't, but it sounds like it. It almost hurts my ears. He leans over and kisses me, then he rolls out of bed. I lay for a minute more before getting myself out of the bed, moving slowly.

I brew a cup of coffee, the sweet nectar of life, as some would say. I’m already not feeling well. I have a bit of a headache, my nausea has returned, the low-grade fever is present, and I am completely and utterly exhausted. However, I don’t dare try to nap, oh no, I want to be tired for tonight in hopes that I will sleep better. My Covid-19 symptoms are continuing to plague me although I am no longer contagious. I was forewarned that I would have to deal with the symptoms long after I was past the acute illness stage. I am certainly still dealing with the symptoms.

10 A.M.

Someone brings up the Pornhub campaign. The one that is all over the news outlets. It’s a huge campaign that has been gaining momentum for a long time. I am personally happy to hear she is enthusiastic about it, but then I realize, I don’t have much content from when I was trafficked on their site. If I don’t, that means, even if the campaign is successful, my content will still be out there. It’s a solid blow I hadn’t thought of before. Wait, their parent company owns other sites though... Now I have to know. I search my stage name. The one I was given. My biggest fear is confirmed. I only have one piece of content on their site, and none on the others they own. All of my content is on other sites, unrelated, sites. The realization stabs me like a twisted knife in the stomach. Even if they do shut down P.H., that does nothing for me. My content will still be out there. Forever. It is completely hopeless that I will ever get my content removed. Now, my C-PTSD is raging, and I am triggered. I am starting my morning out tired, sleep deprived, feeling unwell, and now triggered. I should talk to someone, a survivor friend, my mom, my husband, anyone…. I don’t.

11:00 A.M.

My son needs a haircut. My mom makes sure I know it. She encourages me to prompt him. I understand why she does. He has trauma around haircuts. He was held down by my abusive ex-husband while he shaved his head. For six years, I have watched my son struggle with haircuts. I have dreaded haircut time. This time is no different. It’s painful. As a mom, I wish I could take it all away. My mom wants him to have a haircut. My husband likes his longer, curly hair. There’s turmoil between what my husband wants and what my mom wants for my son. Nobody asks my son what he wants... That makes my mama heart sad. My day is filled with just trying to keep afloat. I do the dishes; I make my son food. I try to keep myself sane. I do the best I can. I know I need to work on my novel, but I’m not sure if I have the time. It’s just another thing on my list right now.

2 P.M.

I sit down after what feels like the longest day ever. It’s only two o’clock in the afternoon. It’s early still. I login to social media, there it is, in black and white... it’s National Human Trafficking Awareness Day. Crap. No wonder I feel so “off” today. No wonder I woke up so early with insomnia. No wonder today feels like I’m in a fog. More triggers through the day...they keep coming at me. My husband walks in the door from work. He is here for just over an hour. His presence is comforting; however, we don’t have time alone. We spend the time we do have as a family. My husband and son leave for their Kempo group. Since they're gone, I might as well go to the grocery store. It’s my first time driving or going anywhere by myself in almost a month.

5 P.M.

Anxiety hits me like a smack in the face as I pull into the parking lot. I’m nervous to be around people, after Covid almost took me out, the grocery store is a scary place. I muster up the courage I need, with my heart pounding and adrenaline pumping; I open the door to my car and step out. Walking into the store feels both exhilarating and terrifying. As I enter the store, grab a cart, and pass through the second door entry way, my heart calms. I can feel myself beginning to settle. This, is doable.

I finally get the things I need, it seems like I have been here for hours, it’s only been 45 minutes. I make my way to the checkout. I pick the slowest lane, of course. That always happens, it’s so frustrating, but I’m a pretty patient person so whatever. After about 20 minutes in the checkout line, I make it through. It feels like forever. Exiting the store feels like freedom. I don’t dare take my mask off though. Not until I have sanitized my hands. I load the groceries into my car, I get in, I turn the key, and it doesn’t start. Are you kidding me?! This has to be the worst day ever. I am tired, sleep deprived, thirsty because I just did a lot of shopping, I don't feel well, I’m triggered, it's National Human Trafficking Awareness Day, which is triggering on its own, I just want to go home, and now my car won't start? Seriously, what a crap day! I don't know what to do. I call my husband.

“Hey, what’s up?” He answered, sounding out of breath.

“So, I’m at the grocery store and my car won’t start and I don’t know what to do! I’m tired and I don’t feel good, and I don’t know what to do. Tell me what to do.” I say in a panicked and whiney tone. I am at the end of my rope. I am so tired that it doesn’t even matter anymore.

“I don’t know what to do either. I mean...it’s gonna be a few hours before I can get there.”

“I know…. Wait! A car just pulled into the parking spot next to me! I’m gonna ask them for a jump start! I love you, bye.” I hang up the phone and jump out of my car just as quick as I can so as to catch them before they go inside the store.

I walk toward them slowly, keeping my distance while trying to get their attention. The lady sees me first and nods me over. I come a little closer to the driver’s side window, while continuing to keep my distance, as the man waves me over. He rolls down his window, I still keep my distance out of respect.

“I know this is an odd request, but my battery died, I have jumper cables, would you be willing to give me a jump start?” They are so kind, I can feel the warmth of their souls, their hearts, their love. I know instantly that these are good, kind hearted people. There is good in the world. My faith in humanity is not dead. After surviving all the bad I have been through in my life, all the trafficking, the abuse, all the horrible people, and things they did to me, things I have seen on the news, I have truly wondered. In this moment, I feel their warmth, their goodness is overflowing. They are warm caring people.

“Well, we have jumper cables too, but sure we'll help you out with a jump start.” He says with an ‘I’ll fix it’ type of attitude.

They immediately jump into action.

“Do you have a mask?” The lady asks. She is clearly also concerned of the virus that currently plagues our world. I don’t blame her, it almost killed me just a few weeks prior.

“Oh yes, of course!” I say with a feeling of idiocy that I hadn’t thought of it. I hastily walk to the driver’s side of my car, lean in and grab my mask to put on. I don’t want to waste their time. I want to be respectful. By the time I get back around to the other side of the car, they already moved the shopping carts out of the way. He pulls his car closer to mine. He puts the cables on for me. I tell him and kind of pretend I don’t know how to put them on, that isn't exactly true. My dad owned a car repair shop almost my entire life. My grandpa, my brother, they are all car guys. I know how to do it, I am just afraid to put them on, terrified really. I get in my car and start it. He unhooks the cables from both cars, as if it’s no big deal. He has clearly done this before. He is even kind enough to explain to my innocent, blonde hair, blue eyed self how to do it. ‘Thank you, kind Sir.’ I think in my mind. We share a bit of conversation in the cold night air. I feel comforted by these two people with such warm, beautiful hearts. They have saved my day. After a few minutes we part ways. They head into the store; I slip into my now running car. I text my husband to let him know I was able to get a jump start, and begin my short drive back home.

Driving home, with music blasting in my ears, I realize that I am smiling. The interaction that I had with these two people just minutes ago, was so incredibly warm. They were the kind of people who restore faith in humanity. I went from earlier feeling sad, triggered, emotional, and struggling hard, to now, feeling in this moment loved, cared for, warm, and happy. Their simple act of kindness changed my whole day. Now I am at peace with the world. My day may have been horrible, but now I am smiling as I drive the rest of the way home. I almost can’t explain the feelings of elation that I am experiencing. These two will never know just how much they did for me this evening. They will never know just how thankful I am to them. It is such a beautiful ending to a horrible day.

AFTER THOUGHTS:

You never know what someone is going through. A little kindness can impact someone so deeply. I don’t know about you, but I want to be that person. I love to make people smile. I like to brighten someone’s day. I like to see someone who looks like they’re stressed, relax and smile a bit. There is always a way. There is always something. It costs you nothing, but it can mean the world to someone. Kindness, spread it.