Do you remember that episode of Friends when Ross "almost" died?  That's how my husband and I felt after almost being swept up in a tornado today.  I mean, there wasn't a tornado, but we were in hurricane level winds, which to us, felt like we were driving directly into one.  We were stupid, thinking we could outrun the storm.  "We can make it home," we said.  We should have known better and stayed at the Goodwill until it passed.  We live in tornado country, so it should have been a "duh" moment, since the weather alert was going off of on our phones every ten seconds and on the radio in the store every ten seconds.  That's not normal.  Even for where we live.  Maybe twice.  But not over and over and over again, in the store and on the way home.  All summer it's been normal with hardly any rain, so we thought "Nah, this will blow over in a few seconds."  Nope.  

We get into the car and it's getting darker and darker out.  Until the entire world turned blue.  Yes, not green, like normal storms do up in these parts, but an eerie shade of dark blue that I've never seen before.  And I've seen a lot of storms.  I've seen yellow.  I've seen green.  But never blue.  I felt like if I had stepped outside of the car, my arm would have been washed in that blue hue.  I really wish I had been at home so I could have taken out my nice camera and gotten better shots.  But my phone was all I had available.  It was fun, watching that storm rolled in.  Until it wasn't.  

Then the wind hit us like a whip, and all of a sudden the tornado sirens turned on right next to us.  We couldn't see a foot in front of the car, and the rain was sideways.  The sound outside was deafening, and I started becoming hysterical.  It's all fun and games until someone turns the tornado on.  

As it turns out, there were funnel clouds in our area and something had touched down.  It wasn't quite an actual tornado, but the winds were around 80mph.  And we drove right through it.  

Of course, we had to move to the cornfield area of our town where all the tornados like to hang out in the summer.  Our area is always the first to catch all the funnel clouds and whatever else storms bring, as we're right by the airport (tornado central).  But when I am at home, I'm fine about it all.  I love storms, as does my husband, who's an amateur meteorologist.  But I do not like them while in a freaking car.  I've watched too many videos on YouTube to see a car there one second and the next, just somewhere else.  That's a big glass of NOPE, thank you very much.  

So my poor husband is trying to get us to the gas station to take cover, and I'm screaming and freaking out and hyperventilating and crying and being all around distracting while he's trying to drive.  He's just concentrating on the road, telling me we'll be okay, being my hero by keeping me calmer than if I were the one driving.  We get the gas station and a bunch of other people have the same idea and we all ran into the gas station together and guess what the people who work there tell us?  To get out.  

Um.  That's not Buddhist at all.  I looked her in the eye and said "There's a tornado warning and the sirens are going off and you want us to leave??"  She didn't reply.  So we bought something so we weren't "loitering" and offered to buy everyone else something so they could stay, too (they declined and bought their own stuff).  And of course, the debit card machines are down and I had to fish out two bucks in dimes from my purse.  By then, the storm had died down and we went home, which was right up the street, thank goodness.  And we pull up to an open garage with everything moved out of the way (I have lots of projects I was working on in there) so we could pull in.  Our home phones were out, so we couldn't call our kids, which was awful, but I knew they were smart and would keep safe.  And they were the ones who opened the garage for us and moved everything.  

In a way, nothing had happened at all.  But to us, we felt like we were going to die in those moments in the car while the rain and wind threatened to push us off the road.  I guess it's different than hearing a car backfire and thinking it's a gunshot and thinking you almost died to actually being in some funnel cloud fueled land-hurricane while in the car LOL  It was scary and in those moments, and while I feared the tornado taking us and killing us both and leaving my kids without parents, I feared more the idea of having the same thing happen but being alive while watching my husband die.  I know, that's super morbid.  But that's the crap you think about when you're wondering what's going to come next.  I love my husband so very much and the idea of being in an accident and having him or one of my kids be next to me and dying in front of me was more than I could handle.  So I started hyperventilating and freaking out even more.  Though, I think the most thing I felt was guilt.  That deep down, if he was the one to die, that I know that somehow I had failed him while he was alive.  That I could had and should have been a better wife (or mother, if it was my kids).  And the silly thing is, he feels exactly the same way about himself. 

I never feel good enough.  I never feel smart enough.  If I say something intelligent?  I think to myself  "Wow, look at me, I'm not an idiot for a moment".  If someone chats me up in public or says anything to me at all, I think "What?  Don't these people know I'm invisible and not worth talking to?"  I always feel stupid.  I always feel subpar.  I always feel like a jackass or that I'm always saying or doing the wrong thing.  I cover it up with a thin layer of optimism most days.  Or I concentrate on my projects.  I not always good at the projects I take on, but I don't care really, either.  The things I make for myself do not have to be perfect.  So I only make them for me.  When someone hires me to paint them something or create something for them, my innate feelings of "Oh boy, gonna fuck this up royally!" will surface and I will just fear doing it so much, that I just don't do it for months on end.  This makes my customers angry.  Which I totally get.  Which is why I DO NOT take orders for my stuff anymore.  I just create, and put it up for sale and if someone buys it, cool!  If not, then oh well, I get to keep it.  

I know where it all stems from.  I know where my feelings from today came from (and thank freaking goodness my wonderful husband was with me and not my mother).  I know where it ALL comes from, because the moment I walked in the door, she started in on me again.  She stopped crapping on my cooking years ago, when she realized I cooked better than her (though it's not a competition) and she loves all the food I make (usually).  But that's about it.  Everything I say she has to argue with or make me feel stupid.  I have no idea how to feel worthy.  I have no idea how to feel worthy of my husband's love (he has the same issue, too, since he was also raised by a narc).  I have no idea how to feel good enough.  And today, when I thought I was going to die (both of us or one of us), that's what ran through my head.  

Why are are we, the humans of this earth, so god damned fucked up?  Why have we taken each other and pushed everyone to believe these horrible things about themselves?  I want my kids to feel worthy.  I want them to know their father and I love them and they are perfect, just as they are, never needing to change in order to be good enough for us or for themselves.  We can read every damn meme we want to that says these things.  We can listen to gurus (though you shouldn't), speakers, friends, spouses, loved ones, and no matter what, we will never believe, truly and completely, that we are good enough and worthy to be loved.  That was taken away from us in childhood.  And that's where it needs to start for our children.  I don't know there's hope for us, as adults, to ever really truly accept this fact.  Maybe?  But we can change it for others.  We can change it for our kids.  For the kids we know and come into contact with.  We can let them know they are loved, as is.  We don't want their last thoughts on this earth, even if they're 100, to be "I am sorry for everyone I've failed in my life."  So work hard on healing your own stuff so you don't spread your parents BS to your kids and significant others.  I've tried my hardest, but I will try harder for the rest of my life, for my children and my husband, because I don't want their last thoughts to be when I die "I should have been better for her."  Because they are good enough exactly the way they are.  And I need to make sure they know it.