Hell hath no fury...

...like a body engulfed in anxiety. Bad morning. I woke up in near panic, sweating, feeling like electricity was flowing through my veins. I did something I've never done and taken my jeans into the bathroom to go pee, just in case I had to rush to the emergency room. I wear just a top and undies to bed, and the possibility of being found like that seems too humiliating, hence the pants. When I'm feeling really bad at bed time I'll go to bed fully dressed, just in case. I'm wondering how in the hell I'm going to shower this morning. I don't feel brave enough. This is a very bad phase.

I haven't been this bad for 2 years. We'd sold our house in Kentucky and were in the process of moving up here. I had to get an apartment in Kentucky until we found a house in Indiana. Apartments there were hard to come by, and ones that accepted 2 dogs and 2 cats were even harder. The one I found was a piece of crap, but I figured I could survive for 6 or 7 months until I had a real house again. I was wrong. I'd moved from a 2000 square foot beautiful home in a nice, safe neighborhood, one that was quiet at night and had room to move around. The apartment was 700 square feet of dark brown and tan. There were 2 bedrooms and a kitchen/living room. It was about a mile away from a railroad track that was busy day and night! It was me and my daughter living there with all those animals. And it was on the "bad" side of town. I heard a lot of sirens and kept my door locked. I couldn't just let the dogs out to potty, I had to walk them across the street to a wooded area. To add to the anxiety and lack of control over my life, my daughter needed to have her tonsils out. Her doctor was in Indiana. We stayed at my parents house for about 3 weeks while she had the surgery and recovery. It was just the two of us for the most part, with my husband coming up for the surgury, as my parents were in Florida for a month. This was all too much of a change for me, and my body revolted. When we got back to Kentucky I was panicking daily and many a night I drove myself to the emergency room parking lot to just sit and wait for the feeling to pass or get worse. I finally could not take it another minute and packed my bag and drove 5 hours to my parents in Indiana again so that someone could help me and take care of me. I left my daughter there alone with the pets. I felt so bad about that, but she was 18 and loved having her own place. Back home with my parents I felt no better, but had a therapist close by, so started seeing him again. It was hard on my parents to see me like that. Going to the grocery was like being sent into a den of hungry lions. The anxiety threatened to rip my heart out and stomp it into the linoleum flooring. When the anxiety shouted, "Get out, GET OUT!," I had to grab onto the shopping cart and mumble back, "no. I have to stay." And eventually, being in the grocery wasn't such a horror. Same way with taking a walk, or driving, or showering. It was a long, hard journey back from the depths of hell, but I made it back to a functioning world.

After a month we found a house and moved in. From there I began to get better. My therapist was a 30 minute drive, and those first trips were made on the phone sobbing to my husband because I was panicking. Fortunately there are two hospitals on the way, so I knew I could pull in if I could make it that far. I, of course, never needed to, but its just knowing they're there that is the salvation.

Now the feeling has returned. It's not as bad as it was then most of the time, but I know it could easily return to that. That is no way to live. The way I am now is no way to live either. I must find my way back to normalcy. It was wonderful waking up and looking forward to my day, no matter how routine it was. I looked forward to cleaning my house so that I could enjoy its serenity. I looked forward to walking the dogs, to see them happily sniffing out old dog pee. I looked forward to spending hours in the grocery, finding bargains and using my coupons. And I looked forward to relaxing in bed at night, unwinding, sleeping, knowing there would be another day in the morning. I want so desperately to get back to that part of me. There is fear that it will never return. But return it must. I can't stay like this. I just can't.

I must go brave the shower now. I can't let it defeat me. It's only a shower. It's only a shower. It's only a shower..........