Posted by ClearSkies on December 3, 2006, at 22:17:32
Chicago, this past weekend:
First, the good stuff: getting a babble group together for an evening of good food, good talk, and the wonderful sense of community and safety in thoroughly enjoying the entire evening. I spent the afternoon leading up to the meet-up in terrible anxiety and certainty that it was going to be a bust: lots of snow and bitter cold came in with me to Chicago. I knew that it would hinder at least some peoples' plans, so I worried about their safety and felt that I was directly responsible for bringing such a test to our group.
We had a few who were not able to join us. I had a hard time keeping track of whose plans had had to be changed, difficulty in keeping track of who was who, and even sitting at our table was still stuck on names. Thank you, Ambien. I would like my brain back, please.
My anxiety continued until fully halfway through the main course. I felt that happy tears were seconds away; I felt my face go hot and my ears turn crimson with the combination of fears and iminent tears. I had an enormous lump in my throat and a ball of tightness in my entire chest. Trying to slow down my breathing only resulted in panting. Dr Bob must have wondered what kind of puppy dog had sat next to him. My legs and hands trembled uncontrollably.As the conversation flowed and the understanding looks developed, my mood loosened up, and I really started to enjoy myself. I suddenly found it very easy to speak with everyone - although I know that I actually had an opinion about EVERYTHING, and was quite liberated in being uncivil at times. My DH concurred that this is very different than I am at home. I let it all hang out and swear like a seasoned Marine.
The evening ended with hugs all around from me. Big bear hugs, both giving and getting genuine ones from all. I walked on clouds for an entire day, glowing with the knowledge that I can speak honestly, and enjoy commeraderie with, this group of friends. Me, me! having IRL friends. I tell you, it was the best kind of validation I have felt for a long time... something that I experience every time I am able to visit with a babbler.
And then, today we travelled home. In the morning we ran into a sheltered shopping mall and did another spot of Christmas shopping. All was going well until I attempted to purchase a snow globe, a really cute penguin wearing a hat and scarf, with glittery snow that whirled around, and a lovely, tinkly tune.
It took trips to 4 different cashiers' counters to find one who was willing and able to take our money. At this point my DH was starting to do his "hurry up, we are going to be late for brunch" dance. I was already deep into the credit application that would make the purchase even more of a good deal than it already was. Disapproval from DH. What do we need another card for? It's just for today, I replied. Frowns and sighs from DH. Of course, I felt directly responsible again for having wasted all this time in trying to make a selfish purchase (the globe is for us to enjoy, and not to give to anyone). My mood darkened and my tears started to build behind my eyes.
On to brunch (delicious) and packing our bags (an expert job), with the globe carefully packed to take on the flight home as carry on. I thought fleetingly that perhaps it wasn't a wise thing to do, given the current ban on bringing certain amounts of liquids onto a plane... and then I had no idea what volume of water was in the globe. I mentally shrugged my shoulders and packed it well in my tote bag.
Cue: approaching danger boding ahead kind of music.Then a hitch in our ride to the airport. Our prearranged ride was late, 5 minutes, then 7, then 10, 15... my never-late-for-life DH angrily cancelled the ride and we took a cab (more expensive) to the airport. Do you have enough cash on you? DH asked, Because we are going to need it all. More nervousness on my part as I counted my diminished funds in my skinny wallet.
Got to the airport easily and with enough time to board our flight. Security was a breeze... until that snow globe was passed through the xray thingy belt. Whose bag is this? Mine. Is that a snow globe in your bag? It's too large for your flight. You can't take it as carry on. I freeze, thinking I spent all that time just being able to buy the darn thing and now it was causing its own trouble. I trembled, triggered by the exchange with the security lady who gingerly held the bag open.
Flashback to 1996, when I was deported from jolly old England with my ex-dh (note he doesn't even get capital letters) as we passed through Heathrow on the way back to the States for a job search and planned application for another British work permit so we could continue our livelihood in this country we loved so to live in. The polite and firm Immigration official informed us that we were in the country illegally, and would not be able to return as we had broken the law.
Panic, fear, an utter sense of failure to understand the most basic of overseas employment laws. Immediately my sobs and gulps and tears accompanied our flight back to the States. It was the beginning of my PTSD and I had no idea at the time.Today I had an foreboding of a similar situation. The innocent Christmas ornament would get me kicked off the flight or at least cause me to miss the flight. DH looking panicked. My anger, fear, and mental smack of my forehead quickly led to the familiar gulping sobs. Keep the darn thing, Merry Christmas, throw it away, I don't care, I wish I'd never wasted all out time in getting the thing in the first place. Especially since I had fleetingly wondered if it might present a problem, but knowing that I could not have packed it carefully enough to be certain of being unpacked at home in one piece.
I moved to take the globe out of the tote bag. You may not touch that, ma'am. I snapped my hands back as she reached into the bag to retreive the offending box. Take it back to the ticket counter and pack it in a well padded box, check it as a seperate piece of luggage, and come back through security. I hadn't the time! I choked, we are barely going to make the flight as it is. By now the snot was flowing freely done my face and my eyes were already swelling to their immense, frog-like proportions. I don't care, I mumbled, I don't care what happens to it, just throw it away. I collected my purse, coat, and shoes and stumbled away from the security area.
DH said, I'll take it back and check it, don't worry. It's my fault, I asserted, my fault I insisted on going through the long and time-wasting process of buying it in the first place. All my fault, all my fault. I said, I'm going to the departure gate and wait for you there.
By now a complete and utter mess, I kept my head down as the tears streamed and the snot dribbled down me, sobbing and gulping until I was light-headed. I only looked at the feet walking ahead of me and shuffled down the hallway. Sat at the first empty seat in the lounge and held my hands over my radiating, embarassed face. Tried to breathe in, breathe out, but no control over this panic, fear and anger. What had I done? What if they didn't let this hysterical middle aged flipped out crazy woman on to the flight at all?
The boarding call was announced for the flight. I stayed seated, beating myself up for having messed up what had been once of the best trips of my life. I dug my nails into my hands. Clutched at myself until my fingers felt like they just might give in to the pressure. Anything, anything just so I would not scream out my utter misery and embarassment. My DH arrived just as the pre-boarding was announced. He helped me limp over to the counter and asked that we bypass the other passengers in boarding as my wife is having a problem, as you can see. More tears as my failure brings further attention to us. We board the plane and I toss my purse and empty bag into the first seat my DH indicated. My hands were throbbing, my throat was clenched in fear that I would not make the flight home without causing another scene.
Breathe in, breathe out. It would work for about 20 seconds, then my mind would fixate again on what I'd done to myself. Guilt guilt guilt burning my face, my hands pressed against it as if I could hide and stop the horrible feelings. I am going to have a drink, I mumble to my DH. It won't help you feel any better, he said. from too many experiences with my attempts to self medicate anxiety by drinking quickly into oblivion.
I cried all the way home, 4 hours. My face was unrecognizable from the one I had just that morning. Anger at my pdoc for not equipping me with Xanax to tamp down the anxiety so I could make it home. Anger that my depression was not under any conrtol that I could see, It wasn't enough that I can't sleep, I can't function at all. My t-shirt quickly became my tissue, trying to stem my crying to no avail.
On the home end, luggage is quickly recovered, and a well taped and marked box that the airline quickly packed the stupid globe in. Intact, carefully surrounded by plastic bags and tissue paper. It made it home. My hands ache, by back aches, my head throbs with congestion and quickly, a migraine. At home, I sullenly unpack without speaking with my heroic DH. Soak in a tub, face down and thinking that it would be pretty easy to do my breathe in, breathe out with the water all around me. I don't. I haul my flab over and finish my bath, hating myself. Hating my depression, hating my panic, my guilt. Hating the whole package.
Here I am getting it all out, purging my mind of a perfectly awful day. Feeling that I successfully negated the elation I felt just a few days ago. Wiped it right out in a few hours.
I have a lot to ponder and ruminate over. I have a pdoc to confront. A therapist to relive the experience with. A hard week ahead, when I wanted only to carry on my babble glow and holiday joy. All sucked out of me.
CS
poster:ClearSkies
thread:710143
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/psycho/20061123/msgs/710143.html