Self medicating

Well, it's official. Summer's over. Oh well, moving on to cozy fall. Likely we'll be jetting off somewhere hot sometime very soon, so I can look forward to that. Or can I? Hmmmm, this could be interesting...

In previous posts, I have disclosed my problems with anxiety. My particular anxiety comes in the form of feeling like I'm outside myself, trapped in my mind, tingly, numb and ready to scream or otherwise 'lose control'. This anxiety has become much more closely tied to my other problem; extreme and debilitating claustrophobia. I will walk 100 flights of stairs before getting in an elevator, although at times I do push myself, mostly when hubby's there for me to hang onto. Once, when I was working at the hospital a couple of years ago, I got stuck in the elevator for like 3 seconds and holy shit, I was LOSING IT!! This hospital is like 100 years old, with some upgrades. The elevator we were in was not an upgrade! It was like 4 feet by 4 feet and I got in with my colleague and two ambulance attendants. The elevator stopped mid-floor for a few seconds, and all I could feel was the prickly fingers of panic reaching out and clawing their way to my grey matter. The blood rushed to my head, my body went numb and I was screaming in my inside mind...I thought I might actually snap and break from reality, screaming and clawing to get out. Thank G*d the elevator started again when my colleague pushed the button a few times...what a completely helpless fool I am! How can someone be so together, successful and strong (at least that's what people tell me), only to be completely ruled by anxiety?? What the fuck is wrong with me? One can avoid small spaces if one tries hard enough. So ok, whatever...just don't do elevators. Problem solved, right? NO! The anxiety has decided to follow me outside the elevator shaft and hitch a ride on my subconscious. It likes to tease me throughout the day. Particularly when I'm not free to get up and go on my own. Sometimes when I'm driving with my boys it attacks out of nowhere...'ok bitch, what are you going to do if I come in now, while you're in charge of this vehicle with your boys watching. What then??'

When this anxiety slithers out from its hiding place and wraps itself around my brain, the only thing that helps, I swear to my HP, is alcohol; my preference being vodka. I have tried it all. The benzos, the pines, antidepresents.... EVERYTHING. I have adverse reactions to most drugs. Really adverse, as in Ativan causes panic; go fucking figure!! Not alcohol though! So I am in this nasty little habit of having a couple, few, sometimes a few too many vodkas at night to stave the day's anxiety and help me sleep. It's the only time I can fully relax. I hate to admit it, but it's the truth. The funny thing is that I consider myself what I refer to as a 'fully functioning alcoholic', but I can stop drinking no problem. I'm not dependent in the sense that my body craves it. I am dependent in the sense that it's the only thing that I can use to dial it down a notch when things get bad. I'm often not drunk, or even tipsy. It does for me what Ativan does for my hunky hubby and his similar anxiety issues. So for now, I self-medicate until I find the magic cure.

Back to my vacation plans. It's been 8 years since I've flown commercially. That trip was my aforementioned adventures in Mexico. It's been 8 years now, but I have flown commercially my whole life. We used to travel between BC and Ontario 4 times a year while I was growing up, as well as our varied other vacations. I loved to travel. I loved to get on a plane and end up somewhere new. Now, all of a sudden, the idea of being trapped on a plane with all those people for hours on end, unable to get out, suspended in the heavens; oh God, I'm paralyzed with fear. I have very little time to find a way out of this fear. I don't even think my trusty vodka is going to help me out of this pickle. Besides, I hear they frown on passengers who are pissed lol. Even as I sit here typing this, I am gripped with fear, numb, terrified anxious. Now I feel I must use my surfing time to find a cure, rather than whining about it.

Wish me luck!