17th Anniversary of First Panic Attack
Exactly 17 years ago I was sitting in an Emergency Room in Lebanon, Pennsylvania waiting for “them” to let me go home. I’d shown up telling them that I didn’t know what was wrong, but that I thought I must be having a heart attack. I sat in a tiny exam room for hours – in fact, a doctor only came in one time for about 2 minutes, and then left. I saw only 2 other people for the next 4 hours…a person who drew my blood because the doctor thought I might be on drugs, and also a crisis counselor who was convinced that I was just upset because my mom and dad weren’t getting along. They put “Post Partum Depression” on my bill, and I left – without even a “follow-up with your doctor, mmmk pumpkin?” Jerks.
However, I am proud to say that I did NOT think about this 4th of July being the 17th anniversary of my first panic attack until about 11pm. W00T! Go me. 
In fact, today didn’t suck at all.
Cape Meares Observations
Today is June 30th, 2008 and I am sitting in the passenger seat of our car, we’re parked at Cape Meares Lighthouse in Oregon. I cannot see a lighthouse.
However, there is a nice wooden platform that is riding on the corner of a clifff. People are gathered there with their expensive telescopes, binoculars,
and cameras, but I don’t know what they’re looking at – or for. Two signs depict species of whales, but it sinot generally the time of year when whales
migrate – as it is summertime. You wouldn’t know that, though, as it is barely 55 degrees outside.
THe tourists here are different than they are in Seattle. I can tell that they are families of a different kind. None of them are wearing black – not one.
It really is quite different. A woman is taking a picture of a sparrow on a cable, which is part of the fence that protects the cliff deck. I wonder how
much this experience differs for her than if the sparrow ere in the back yard of her house, or on the side of the street in the city? How incredibly cool is
the elderly woman in the rain hat, long denim shirt who puts her eye up to the telescope and covers her head with a big piece of black cloth. She runs for
her husband and tells him that she can’t find something she’s looking for. It should be there. She knows it should be there, but her husband has been
called to the eye of the telescope to find whatever this elusive prized sighting is. There is definitely a wave a excitement among the people who also have
thier telescopes and binoculars – but seem to follow that was the old woman said was of the utmost importance. That she MUST be wise. I wonder if she is a
legal secretary for a law firm in Portland and this is her first time to the coast. That’s the irony I think of. That she would act as though she “knows” -
causes everyone to get into a state, and unknowingly they waste their time.
That is my life, and I identify with that.
John Cusack Gives the Bush-McCain Challenge – 30 sec version
Great 30 seconds, saying so much. More reasons why John Cusack would be my perfect choice as a friend/spouse.
Define Communicate
If you want to know what Travis meant by the fact that your comment was insightful – ask him, because I don’t know. I’ve been dissecting your comment for a while now because I’m trying to understand, too. Actually, I’m trying to understand your communication style in general. You’re ambiguous – I assume because you don’t want to hurt my feelings?
Me feeling needed and leaned on – you said this may be part of the natural progression for me – but I have been nothing but needed and leaned on, because let’s face it – you are someone who needs a lot of support. All the kids need a lot of support. I feel over-needed and too leaned on. So where lies the miscommunication on this one?
Another thing you do is couch a bunch of generalities that lean toward me sounding like a total fuck-up and then finish it up with a wrapper of “a bunch of shit happened while you were sleeping – but I dealt with all of it, so don’t forget that.” So you’ve now just made it what you said it wasn’t – a pissing contest. Except – here’s the deal, you put a nice wrapper on it and make it sound academic – nice and neat and clean, and who’s going to argue with that – and aren’t you wonderful for putting SO much thought into analyzing what’s wrong with me. It’s all PR – it sounds really good so very very few people are going to notice that it’s just a Ford Taurus with a Jaguar emblem on it. No – they’re not going to notice because you’ve made them feel comfortable enough in your intelligence that they have no need to dissect your words and extract what it is that you’ve actually said out of them.
And what have you said? That I should “really live.” That you’ve changed a lot, but I haven’t noticed. You’re constantly terrified that I’m going to leave you.
When you say things like that it’s like you don’t know me – and it’s not a lack of talking, it is a lack of communication – because communication can be faulty, and in this instance – I think it might be.
I know that I should “really live” – but I know what that means to me, and I don’t know what it means to you. I don’t think you’d be comfortable with what my idea of really living is.
I have noticed that you’ve changed a lot. I may have been on antidepressants, but I was there and still am. I constantly tell you that I’m not going to leave you – but you can turn anything I say or do into a prelude to my leaving you.
And it’s exhausting. “Communicating” with you about all of this is exhausting.
It’s funny how much time we spend together, and yet how much we “miss” each other. Maybe we weren’t ever what we thought we were to begin with. How can we possibly be if our days and nights are spent together, but somehow we manage not to know very much about the other person?
Honey – I’m tired. I’m going through a rough time. Life is starting to scare me, and I’m starting to cry at work again. I’m hanging in until my review and if nobody recognizes the work that I’ve done then I’m quitting. If I quit I’m not working in Seattle anymore – I think it might save our friendship and marriage. I can’t keep seeing you so depressed and sad when things are supposedly so much better – and I imagine you could say the exact same thing about me. I don’t know at this point, or care, if this is a ’sticking my head in the sand’ situation – mostly because I’ve given all I’ve got. I have pushed myself further and harder than you will ever have to push yourself, and you really can’t imagine what it’s like to know that after doing that I have to have you acting like I don’t know how fucked we are financially. (Doesn’t that seem like an out of place thing to have just said? – But that’s what the problems alllllll stem from, and I DO know where things stand. I just really have to wonder if we had no financial worries if you’d still not be sharing anything with me other than how bad work is, still be incredibly depressed, still be argumentative and elitist to the point where I just can’t talk to you – no, I can TALK to you, but can’t COMMUNICATE with you.)
So anyway, I imagine that I’ll be waking up more and more as the Lexapro gets out of my system, and I take less and less Xanax. I have no clue who I’ll be at that point. I haven’t known that “me” for 19 years, and so I have no clue if you’re going to like me. Right now – if it makes you feel any better – I’m not liking myself a whole hell of a lot either. In fact, 99% of the time I loathe myself as a whole. There are minute times of a feeling triumph at work (which pass quickly as someone cuts me down.) There are minuscule moments of happiness when I think I might have a real friend, and these are fleeting as it’s not a give and take friendship – I’m doing all the giving. (So minuscule fleeting moments of happiness and triumph in areas that I was hoping so much for in this “new life.”)
Anyway, maybe someday we’ll figure out how to communicate – define exactly what that means, and then do it. It will be interesting to see where that puts us.
A Person Changes but Their Partner Doesn’t
I grew up, from the age of 19 until 34, with severe and crippling panic attacks. They were so bad for several years that I didn’t leave my house, and for the remainder of those years I couldn’t leave the house without a “safe person.”
I was divorced from my first husband when I was 29, and remarried not long after – to a man who had experienced panic attacks before, but had them under control. I’m 36 years old now.
About 2 years ago I started receiving “Cognitive Behavioral Therapy” (or CBT) which is a sort of “let’s give you tools on how to deal with anxiety systems, and then induce each symptom over and over until your anxiety is reduced to nothing, or almost nothing.” Guess what. It worked. I got better. I got and held a job and have become successful at it. My dependence on my husband is greatly reduced at this point in my life.
This is a huge change from where I used to be. Imagine – I went for fifteen years without really making any substantial decisions – nor many minor decisions. No real input – I just wasn’t interested in putting my mind in a place where I might experience anxiety. Now I make decisions every day – many of them. I have actual input to give – and I give it. I’m stronger, healthier, smarter, and more confident. I’ve held the same job for going on two years now. I feel human for the first time in a very long time.
So my husband met and married “that girl” – but no longer is with “that girl.” I’m nothing like I was seven or eight years ago, and I think it must be confusing and taking a toll on both of us. I don’t see him the same way, and he doesn’t see me the same way. Everything is different now.
Where do people go from this point?
So I Went With the Sony Vaio
And guess what – I’m happy with it!!! 
GO me! It’s even pink – in the hopes that no man in my house will touch it!
Now, if only I could get Vista off of it I’d be thrilled.
Mac’s Suck. M.A.C. Doesn’t.
I like Mac’s for two things….and they are even related! Mac’s are great for image manipulation…I’ll give them that.
And then there is the other MAC – M.A.C. Cosmetics. MAC Cosmetics are amazing. I’ve considered quitting my quest to become a legal secretary and just go to cosmetology school just so I can play with the stuff and get paid for it.
Otherwise, I can’t stand using Macs. My son has an iMac. My husband has a $4,000 PowerMacbookPro thing. He won’t let anyone near it and even he is afraid of it. I do know the shortcut keys – I do know how to use them. There’s just no way I want one.
So currently I am sans computer – the one I’m blogging from is 8 years old and the hdd is grinding away for some unknown reason. I’m getting a Sony Vaio Cosmopolitan – yeah, that’s the pink one. Great specs, too I should have it within the next two weeks, and I’m really jacked about it.
Let’s hope it doesn’t fall through. That would suck, too.
God, a lot of things suck lately.
