I woke up this morning and about had a panic attack. My phone said 4:45, and I in my half-tablet valium drugged sleep I had either turned off my 4:30 alarm or simply forgot to set it and I have a 6:15 appointment with J and was now off to a late start. Shooting out of bed, my thoughts racing, my head full of recrimination and worry that I would not get through my warm-up before our session start time and all that meant to me, I was fully dressed, testing my blood sugar when I looked at my meter and realized …
It’s only Sunday.
Checking my phone, my alarms are set and are fine. Sunday it does not go off until 6, and even then there’s no big rush because there are no classes on Sundays in the area where I typically use.
I am an idiot. But apparently an idiot whose head and emotions are on the road to recovery, because my hyper-responsible self is kicking in and taking over, even if she apparently is unaware of how to read or utilize a calendar.
Last night, a police officer called to notify me the bad men who had threatened and tried to hurt me had been arrested on another, similar crime, which chilled me to the bone. They are presently tucked away in jail. I do not have the details of their new crime, what that means to me, or why it made me feel scared all over again, but it did. Hence the valium to calm my thoughts enough to sleep. Today, after my false alarm panic about being late for my training appointment, I am still scared yet less so. My anxiety about the unknown, what happens next, what my role will have to be, is familiar to me and understandable. I can mostly cope with that.
I will be heading to the gym soon. Sadly, I have barely touched the Lists from last Thursday. I improve when I practice, but my head is such a mess that I do not want to have to work at trying to master the new exercises or refine my technique at the older ones. I am returning to recent Lists that offer feelings of competency and that make me feel better and stronger. My head is such a mess and become this excuse manufacturing plant as to why I should cancel sessions next week. Slippery slope, that. Cancel once because of anxiety it becomes all too easy to stop going completely.
Crazy brain is waging a hard battle for complete control.
Truth is I feel so weakened and I cannot even rationally explain why. The scene replays in my head and leaves me feeling … guilty. And ashamed. Like I should have handled it better. M reminds me that anything like that where I am physically unharmed is absolute proof that I handled the situation correctly. The battle between the rational and the irrational is normal for me, and the voices whisper that I should not have put myself in such a position in the first place and deserved the threat of if not the actual act of bad things befalling me.
I hate those voices. I have long wondered if there is some surgical way to physically remove that slice of my brain that broadcasts along with its volume control. Or maybe just install a permanent mute button.
Time passes so slowly when trying to repack emotional baggage. Or so it seems. It is accurate to say that I am not having fun in dealing with this situation and its aftereffects. And I am also not helping myself by obsessively reading everything that I can lay hands on regarding crime victims, fear, anxiety, and coping; it just makes me even more anxious, fearful, and wondering why I ever need to leave the safety of home again.
But I do leave the house alone and go about living my life, even if I sometimes have to grit my teeth and force myself to do it. While I have yet to yield to the temptation, knowing Baskin Robbins does not deliver forces me to evaluate the consequences of becoming a hermit. Plus I feel better about me resisting the allure of that particular temptation.