Anxiety - part I

Although I'm very happy and content with my place in life, I do suffer from chronic anxiety and panic attacks. It's most inconvenient for someone like myself, who loves life, travel, dining out and social get-togethers. The first experience I had with a full-on panic attack, I was 12 years old, and had just tried sniffing glue with my girlfriends at a sleepover. Wow, I didn't like that! No way...I panicked. They walked me around for about 2 hours and I vowed that drugs was not going to become a part of my life. About 2 weeks later, while sitting in my mom's car at Dairy Queen, I was thinking about what a horrible experience that had been, which brought the whole feeling back in full force, no different than if I was still in that moment. I thought, 'oh GOD is this what they call a flashback? Am I going to have to relive this for the rest of my life???'. I told my mom and begged her to take me to the doctor. The doctor informed me there is no such thing as a flashback, there was nothing wrong with me, it's all in my head....just stop feeling that way. What an odd treatment plan, but it worked! I went home that day and decided 'this is all in my head, I can control it'. Miraculously it was overcome, and I went on to live an active happy outgoing and most importantly, drug-free life. My friends were all huge 'stoners', but I just opted out. Alcohol was my drug of choice.

I was 27 years old before anxiety invaded my world again. I had been married to my childhood friend for 7 years, and we had 3 little boys, a beautiful house on a 1/2 acre in the country, 2 cars a Rhodesian Ridgeback and money enough for me to stay home. Life was good. Other, that is, than the fact that my husband was controlling, misogynistic and angry. Funny that it took me so long to realize it. It was subtle and insidious. We laughed and had fun together. We had good sex (meaning almost every day and always an orgasm to be had, although it was lackluster in retrospect) even after 8 years. We had been friends since I was 14, so I really didn't know any different. I had hooked up with the best guy in our group (little did I realize at the time, that was sort of like being the tallest midget!). Long story short, we started to fight all...the...time. I didn't realize it then, but now I can see it clear as day, my situation. I was an obsessive, compulsive CLEAN FREAK. My friends stopped wanting to come for coffee, because I would spend the whole time wiping, mopping organizing, ironing etc. I just thought 'hey, I've got 3 kids, a messy husband and a dog, if I don't keep this house clean it'll go to shit'. And what would people think if they stopped by and everything wasn't in it's place, shiny and pretty? Haha, now that I'm out the other side, I can see that it was the only thing I really had control over; I was Martha Stewart on crack, just so that I could show that I was WORTH something.

After a huge fight with my husband about my being maid of honour for my best friend in Vegas (he refused to come, even after I tried to entice him with 'we could renew our own vows, it'll be fun'). To this day, I do not know why it was such a problem for him, other than that he wasn't in control. She was willing to get married on a day that was convenient for him, the boys had family to stay with, and he worked for the airline so we could fly for basically nothing. But nope, somehow he still managed to make it inconvenient and unfair to him that she would ask me. I decided that was it, I was going and he could just fuck himself thank you very much. She even paid for my plane ticket, rather than him getting a deal through work. That's about the time I snapped. My best friend and I had just finished picking out our dresses for the wedding and had gone next door for coffee afterward. We were talking and I suddenly, without warning, out of nowhere felt that old familiar tingle up my spine. The world went out of focus, the blood rushed in my ears and I had to fight the urge to run screaming into the street like a lunatic.

This started a spiral. Four months I spent on the couch or in bed. I guess in retrospect it might have been a bit of a functioning break-down. I still mothered as best I could, I still cooked, cleaned etc., but my life was different now. I was fighting for my life every day. Fighting to keep my sanity, to not break from reality, light myself on fire and melt into a pile of unrecognizable goo. I made the trip to Vegas and had a great time between attacks. A lot happened around that time, but within a year of that trip, I got what I call mad women's disease and I left my husband after 10 years. My eyes were open. I had made a mondo wicked mistake by marrying him and it needed to be rectified asap!

This is getting long...I think I'll finish later. There is a point to this story. I'll figure it out I'm sure.