Panic Attacks and Free Starbucks 8.23.2016

Yesterday, while I was at the zoo, i has a panic attack.  I am sharing this because it is not the first one, but it was def one of the bigger episodes.  I am sharing this…bc maybe you need to read these words today.

pan·ic at·tack

noun

plural noun: panic attacks

1. a sudden feeling of acute and disabling anxiety.

In case you don’t know what one is…it isn’t just heavy breathing.  It feels like a rock is crushing you against a wall.  Trying to stop it from happening takes all of your physical and mental energy (which is challenging at the zoo).

Then, it just wrecks you.  You cry, your feel this overwhelming exhaustion.  Things get dizzy, gray, black.  You tell yourself to calm down…but you can’t.  You sit down, but you feel afraid.  You stand up.  You feel afraid.  Even leaning…scary.

The last time my panic attack took over, I fell and busted my face.  The time before, the squad was called.  

Every person is different, so I can’t explain why they happen.  Yet, for me, they happen when I feel like I am losing control.  I had my first fainting attack in the late 80’s while checking out groceries at Kroger (what a fun job).  I was standing there, and then there were too many people talking to me, I hadn’t eaten, and then I just collapsed, and I couldn’t breathe.  I had one at work at the beginning of my 4th year when I was in a meeting that just ….well, if a “tangent” was a shape, the meeting because the shape of a tangent.  I couldn’t breathe.  I ran out, and it took an hour to calm me down.

When I looped up to second grade, I was trying to balance a new baby, a master degree internship, a new team, and a bunch of other bullshit.  I was having small attacks almost daily.  I would cry on the way to work.  Then, at lunch, I would become upset about feeling left out of life/friendships (I know…what was I …12!!??).  I would cry, and then many times, the crying would become hyperventilation. It was horrible trying to make it to recess duty on time, looking like life was grand (and doing the recovery alone).

…Yesterday, I couldn’t find the zoo passes.  I looked and looked.  I could visualize them…but they were no where to be found.  When we got to the gate, I had to pay for parking!!  This really set me off.  I went to the season pass desk, and I found out my card was expired ….on 1/31/2016.  He never renewed them because in 6 short days, he was gone.  In a moment, he was just gone.  Gone.  

I cried.  The cashier cried.  I got a new card, and she made a note that I could add in another name in the family space (like my mom…which made me cry more).  

I couldn’t pull it back together.  We petted the goats, and I kept feeling worse.  She climbed and ran and jumped….ugh.  We got in line for the giraffes…UGH.  Then, as soon as we walked away from the giraffes to the BIG park, I just couldn’t.  It took over.  I was hot, cold, weak.  I was dizzy, disoriented, embarrassed.  I wanted to be home.  I wanted to be far away.  I sat and cried. Thank goodness for Carol.  

I was finally able to leave the park, drive home.  Carol conned Maris into a Plan B.  We at least enjoyed a bit of the zoo.  

The rest of the day was a blur.  I tried to pull myself together, but all I could do was deal with trash day and dishes.  Thankfully my neighbor fed us and took Maris for a bit.  We were both in bed by 8.  When I woke up, she was snoring next to me….I don’t even remember when she came in my bed.  

I love her.  All she cared about was playing with Cee Cee, seeing the “graffs.”  All that mattered was telling Miss CaFy about her new fish, Butterfly.  I want her to smile everyday.  I am trying to make those smiles happen everyday.  ….but today, my body and mind betrayed me.  …and I felt like I let her down.

I am sharing this because ….take a look around today.  Take a look into the eyes of your friends and co-workers.  You might think you know…but do you?  Ask them…how are you?  Then, when they say, “good/fine.”  ….ask again.  Keep asking.  

Lastly….if you live by Morse and Hamilton, I frequent that Starbucks,  If you see my car, screech in behind me because my therapist suggested I do things for others …like I used to when I was working.   So, I am buying the order of the car behind me every time I go there.  So, look for my license plate, and you can get your free coffee (and gosh who knows what else you ordered!!!)  :)

A little of this and a little of that...6.2016 7.2016 8.2016

Just a quick few words.  I have several blog “start-up’s.”  I have blogs that date back to Father’s Day, blogs that share the glory of Tim’s life celebration, blogs that honor my amazing daughter, blogs that express my frustrations, blogs that talk about RWB, blogs that talk about my mom…my future.  So, tonight, to be a little simplisitc, I am going to roll a few things forward, backward, sideways and upside down…one of my blogs that I started, mixed with a list, a second blog (out of sequence), and then perhaps a few of my lovely ramblesJ

So this blog as a whole, will, –as time moves forward-  be broken into many sections—big bites and tiny nibbles (unlike my appetite these days!!)  because life is interruptive in itself, even when there aren’t any interruptions.  And geesh, my life feels more like a series of interruptions than an anthology of days.

GOING WAAAAY back…to Father’s Day:

So, here are the words I began for Father’s Day…from the voice of Maris (for those of you in education:  Maris will be the narrative voice of this selection).  –much of this are actual words she has spoken…

The Father’s Day Post

Happy Daddy’s Day, Daddy!!  

I wondered why you weren’t here, but at least mommy wasn’t trying to make some elaborate brunch where she drinks all the champagne and leaves you the OJ!  She was pretty excited about your bday/father’s day gift.  She was gonna ship those crabby cakes from Timbuktu in Maryland.  I was kinda excited to try them, too.  Of course that means…you get one bite for my every three!!

So mommy is planning this big party to celebrate YOU.  I am not quite sure I know what it means, but I get to wear a pretty dress, Auntie Kris in coming in town, and I get to hold a pink balloon.  My balloon is coming to you …you know to heaven.  I hope you get it.  I will sign my name on it.  I know, my S is still backward, but mommy is relentless you know, so it is getting better.  She is teaching me question marks and exclamation marks now….!! 

Mommy talks about you a lot more …but, daddy, this place is crazy!

1.     We are always late… ALWAYS. 

2.     Mommy doesn’t feed me breakfast and watch “where’s Cameron” with me—no wait, she DOES make me breakfast, but she doesn’t sit on the couch with me, feed me, and watch Good Day Columbus with Cameron!!  She is usually rushing…oh and daddy, mommy is NOT working out like she is supposed to…I think…she is sad.

3.     Mommy won’t go to Skyline, but she does seem to enjoy the Oreo Blizzard!!   (I think she keeps eating my leftovers!)

4.     Mommy makes me do chores now….guess what they mostly are??  LAUNDRY. I dump the laundry over the stairs, and then I have to carry it all to the laundry room.  I get to fill the washer…and then I help put stuff in the dryer. 

5.     We are starting to cook more.  I am getting better in the kitchen.  I feel really proud when I set the table.

6.     I am probably not supposed to tell you this, but mommy says more bad words…and then she tells me not to say them~!!  We have an agreement now…I think she is doing a lot better.  Like I said, daddy, I think maybe she is sad, and then the words come out.  She always apologizes.

7.     Sorry, but mommy’s music is still wayyyy better than yours.  I am pretty sure I have completely nailed, “Hip Hop Hooray!!”  (no, really)

8.     Oh and guess what…the swingset is still setting her blood pressure sky high!!!  I think she is seriously crazy about it.  She wants to have patio fires a lot…it has been too hot, and I have been sweating, so we haven’t been building them (which I kinda think is good)!!  Mommy laughs a lot about the swingset.  I like when she laughs.  The neighbors laugh about it, too. 

9.     OH MY GOSH…so mommy and Kris and I went down to the creek, and mommy took me into the little rapids, and she FELL in.  Don’t worry, she had like a crazy grip on me, so I was fine.  She is one bruised up mess, but she was so calm, so I wasn’t scared.  How come both mommy and me…we bruise so easily!?

10.  So, I mentioned the laundry…daddy, it is scaring me.  I think I saw her dig shorts out of the laundry to wear….at least my stuff is clean!   J

11.  We cheers to you…well, I started it, so don’t let mommy take credit.  We still make eye contact like Aunt Wendy taught us. 

12. Mommy is starting to be more sad…I am not sure why…but I catch her wiping tears, daddy.  I go and smooch her just like you would, and I rub her back.

13. Daddy, in case you didn’t know.  You are my best friend still, and eventhough I know the answer mommy will say, I keep asking, “Where is daddy?” 

So.  We made it through father’s day…we made it. 

….so that was the Father’s Day blog that I began.  I never quite finished all of the words, but her voice will certainly continue in this blog…

Tonight, I am going to interrupt the other blogs to just share a little about our recent journey…it is our journey with God.

 Before Tim passed, we decided to go back to church for a few reasons.  One of those reasons was to create strength in our marriage, and one of those reasons was because we wanted to introduce the church to Maris…we wanted her to be old enough to understand more about God (even though, God is hard for me to understand).  We wanted to learn how to make God more of a center for our family …and maybe that sentence reads strangely, but I can only write the words I can write.  We also wanted to baptize Maris in a way that she would know what that moment meant.  I was not baptized until I was 28. 

A few weeks after the accident, when it should have still been cold and windy, we were invited by some of Tim’s work friends to a Presbyterian Church (we are  Methodist).  I sat and cried through the sermon with his former co-worker who was in town…and I wish the sermon was one of those messages that stayed with me, but I can’t tell you one thing he said…But, I recall meeting this woman afterward who invited me to a small group study.  I went.  I opened my heart.  I was brave and shared my story.  I asked questions about God without doubting myself.  …and I kept spending Thursday nights with this small group.  Me…and 4 or 5 other couples.  Me…and couples.  I felt alone, but yet, I felt welcomed. 

Maris and I have continued to go to the church.  I go alone (with Maris-but she goes to Sunday School) when the others aren’t there.  I sit and pray and listen alone.  I look around at all the happy couples and families, and I get pissed.  I know…I am in church for crying out loud, but boy do I get mad.  I don’t get mad at God.  I don’t ask him why.  I just get upset.  I want to hold hands during the sermon.  I want to pick up Maris together from Sunday school (she is learning a LOT) and go to brunch.  I want our Sundays back…and I was so excited for us to start down this path together.  Our last church service was Christmas Eve.  It was the contemporary service, and she danced in the aisles (she was not happy about no “Rudolph or Frosty!”).  Maris loves church, and it has been a new path for us together as a team.

Maris and I are very rogue in our style of prayer.  Sometimes, we say blessings at night.  Sometimes, we Cheers as our prayer at dinner, and lately, our prayers begin with “Dear God.”  Sometimes, we do a call and repeat and sometimes, we take turns in the prayer.  I had NO idea that she learned “in Jesus name we pray” from Sunday School until yesterday.  She interrupted my Amen.  “Mommy, it goes like this…’In Jesus name pray Amen.’”  Ok, so she forgot the “we,” but WOW. 

So, here is the thing.  I was talking to a dear friend the other night at dinner, and I said, “It’s not that I “found God,” but I am “choosing God.”  (she kindly reminded me that I didn’t need to explain this to anyone, but –hey this is me, here—I explain and analyze all of it).  I am choosing God.

I reached out to the same kind and friendly woman who invited me to be in her small church study group to see if there was another group.  …Maybe, I should tell you that this woman, whom has now become a dear friend—a true friend—hunted me down like  a dog that day after church, shoving her email in my face with her 35 second sales pitch about her group.  But, THAT is the reason I am choosing God.  His place in the Universe brought this crazy overzealous woman into my space, waving her email on purpose..for a purpose. :) I picked up that paper, sent her an email, and I gave it a whirl.  I learned a lot.  And, I kept going to church.  And now, I am in a faith based book club with other women who are maybe, like me, looking for answers.  Honestly… I don’t even know what the questions are, but I know I want to start to develop them, ask them, and seek out the answers. 

In the middle of all of this, my mom was taken in for an unplanned triple bypass…that turned into an infection (surgery 2) that turned into an intense infection (surgery 3), to reconstructive plastic surgery using her muscle to rebuild her chest wall (surgery 4).  This transpired in 5 weeks.  “Dear God,” I said,….”please take care of my mom, and keep my dad calm.”

And to Tim, I said, as I looked into the hiking picture of him and Maris before she was even 1—the hiking picture, taken on my iPhone, expanded into a black and white canvas, the picture where his eyes pierce mine and his smile sneaks into my heart as I leave each day, I said with each surgery, “Don’t you dare fuck this up.  Don’t you dare.”

Yes, I am choosing God, but I am also choosing to believe that a power is holding Maris and I, and I am talking to him, cultivating a belief that he IS guiding my life…a belief that Tim is with him—maybe giving him a few pointers, you know?  Like, maybe Tim stops me each day with those eyes to remind me to check my damn flat iron (a new one is on the way if you follow me on FB), to grab water, not to forget my shake, and to take a deep breath before Maris and I screech down the road—ALWAYS LATE (no, we are not really screeching…it was just me, the writer, using imagery).   

I had dinner with another dear friend who spoke to me about the message that I have.  Maybe God is asking me to share my message---my message is messy, convoluted, torn, stained, and damaged.  My message feels damaged to the core.  I want to share our story, but my story feels stuck (like I fell into a vat of cement—thx SB).  Yet, this friend invited me to keep sharing my words, my emotions, my daily trials …the moments that are connecting in this journey.  She said that she didn’t know how I felt, but that maybe I could help others like me.  I don’t know where my words fall.  I don’t know what ears hear them, but I know that I have chosen God to speak to, so I know he is listening, and I will start there.   I will start by letting him hear my words.  

….and that is the beginning of our journey with God.  Maris says that God and daddy are her best friends.  She thinks daddy drove his truck to heaven.  She thinks he “tects” her (protects).  She asks when daddy is coming home.  If only there was an answer to that question...if only.  If only our family of 2...could be a family of 3 again.   I'd eat Thai food, learn to ski, and I would watch all your loud TV...  if you would just come home.