Saturday, January 30, 2010

What It's Like... (anxiety and panic)

My roommate stared at me blankly tonight as I tried to explain.

We were talking about the fact that I haven't been behind the wheel of a car yet and I mentioned that the very idea of it is enough to start panic and adrenaline racing through my system.

"Oh, just go to a quiet neighborhood, and I'm sure in five minutes you'll be fine."

I've been through this before.  Twice before.  Each time it took at least a month before I didn't feel instantly panicky on getting behind the wheel.  Manageable panic, but still panic.  Lots of clenched teeth prayers for help - for me, and for safety, and lots of gritted teeth refusal to let the fear win that round.  This was the worst accident yet.  I'm telling myself it doesn't have to be the same, that I am stronger, and getting better at facing and dealing with the panic all the time, but the very idea of being the person in control of a car makes me want to sob on the spot.

"You just need to get back up on the horse."

She can't know how words like that sting.  That a "normal" person would simply hear that as sage advice.  She doesn't know that all week people have been telling me about how God allows the bad stuff as well as the good, and how those words, even though I believe them, are grating on my already raw nerves.  She's smiling, and I see that, teasing me, wanting to cheer me up.  She cares about me, and for all of those reasons I don't say anything in response.  Just a simple "I will."  (And I will, likely tomorrow.  Maybe the next day.  Probably with my mom or someone with me, to help calm my nerves.)

But it leaves me feeling isolated again.  Alone with the pink elephant in the corner of the room.  The one I'd so like to ignore -  that panic and fear that only I can see.

I don't quite know how to describe this reality that is sometimes mine.

I've found a natural supplement that works well to manage it, and it's rarely a daily occurence anymore - it takes something big to tip the balance.  I'm working on controlling it, and facing it.  I'm winning more and more of the battles with that silent pink elephant these days.

But today, today I'm losing a bit.

Ironic, isn't it, that I spent a chunk of the afternoon looking at car ads with my dad?

The triggers are hard to predict.  It was a conversation with my roommate about plans for tomorrow, and for the coming week.  I happened to mention that I hadn't driven yet, and the panic rose up like a monster, and there it was.  The elephant in the room.

So, tonight I'm praying again for peace.  I'm using all of the coping strategies that I know work.

I'm acknowledging that I'm afraid.  And also that I am strong.  That this week I have walked the balance of some difficult circumstances and emotions and needed to care for myself.  That I have coped with the aftermath of this accident (my third, not counting a few serious near misses - got to love icy roads) so much better than previous ones (and this has been the worst.)  I'll get behind the wheel of the car, and I'll choose to find ironic humor in the fact that my prayer life will be consistent, perhaps slightly panicked and very regular for a while.  And I'll choose to remember that it does get better.  I'll drive even more carefully.  And eventually the panic will fade again.

Reading Update

A quick update on the progress I'm making on my goal to read (or listen to an unabridged audio version) at least one non-fiction book a month.

This week I finished a book of essays on faith and life.  Titled "The Best Catholic Writing 2004", it was a good read, though some essays were definitely slower than others, and, because of the time frame in which the book was compiled, at the height of the abuse scandals that rocked the church, the book was a bit heavy on content dealing with that scandal, and the way forward for the church.

I also finished listening to the audio book I've been listening to for the last couple of weeks.  Titled "Traveling with Pomegranates" by Sue Monk Kidd and Anne Kidd Taylor, this is one I'd highly recommend.  It's basically the story of several trips a mother and daughter made together, but it's so much more.  Laced with Greek mythology, faith, illness, and themes of transition in life, it was a truly beautiful story.  I had to laugh at the way some of the themes I was listening to were paralleling conversations I'd been having with a dear friend.  It was definitely a timely "read" and one I'll be listening to again, as well as possibly purchasing in book form.

The Scoop

So, here's the scoop.

My parents will loan me the money to buy another beater car.  Which is more debt, but very arguably very necessary debt at this point, since we're all agreed that three hours a day on transit is not a practical solution to my transportation needs.

I'm going to move into my Grandma's basement.  It is by no means my ideal situation, but it's doable for a while.  Especially if I paint the room I'm moving into (it's currently covered in very dark wood paneling, and isn't super well lit, so a coat of white or off white paint will work wonders) - and Grandma said I could paint.  The room is large, and at the back of the basement, and will give me space to still set up my couch/loveseat so I can have friends over, as well as having an open area in front where I can put my table and chairs (since I often have friends come for dinner).

It will be interesting to see how it goes, since my grandma and I are about as opposite in personality as humanly possible.  She is maybe the most chatty person alive, loves being with people, talks on the phone for hours, is very nosy, and likes to know everything about everyone she ever meets.  She can also give you all the details on the life of someone she ran into at the grocery store the other day who you may have met, once, or whose sibling you went to school with some thirty years prior.  I on the other hand, am an introvert who LOVES silence and privacy - lots of silence and privacy.  This personality conflict was the biggest reason I was hesitating to move in in the first place, and it will definitely be the largest challenge of living there.

To be honest, I'm still a bit discouraged and angry at how things have played out.  Mostly just frustrated at the loss of a car, but also a little frustrated to have to give up this apartment.  Of the three places I've lived since moving out of my parent's home, this has definitely been my favorite, the most convenient for my work commute, and for my life in general.  I've really loved living here, and it's hard to give that up.

I'd already been mostly planning to live with Grandma.  It was the idea that wouldn't go away as I mulled and prayed over what on earth I was going to do when L's visa expired and she had to leave the country.  Especially as each of the options for replacement roommates that had seemed so certain fell away.  So, in that sense, I'm confident that this is a "right" step.  I guess I'm struggling with the "my will vs. God's leading" conundrum.  Because this "right step" is most certainly NOT the one I would have chosen.

Living with Grandma makes economic sense as well.  I will save probably somewhere between 100 and 150 dollars a month in expenses - money that can go towards debt to pay it off sooner and set me free.  Or money that can pay the likely increase in my car insurance payment thanks to another accident on my record.  I guess it's hard for me, though, because I am far more of a dreamer than a person who wants to live with the reality of numbers, and living at Grandma's is definitely going to be a challenging sacrifice for the sake of my finances.

To be fair, I'm not afraid to admit that these circumstances are somewhat of my own making.  It was my choices that led to the debt that means I can't afford my own place.  And it is my choice in how I handle this next season, waiting and paying down debt, and moving forward.  I know that these things are mine alone to own.  But I'm struggling a little with that too.  Because it would be nice to blame the debt on the circumstances that led to my spending.  On some of the disasters of life in the last couple of years that meant I relied on my credit card for groceries in order that I could make a rent payment from my chequing account, or that left me devastated and looking to buy happiness wherever I could.  But I made those choices - the attempted purchases of happiness especially.

To quote the irritating old saying, "I made the bed, and now I've got to lie in it."  (Which is really a horrible saying, and quite ruins the beauty I enjoy each week of making my bed with freshly washed sheets and then crawling into it at the end of the night!)

So.  In the next month, here's what's happening in my life.
  • I need to pack all of the belongings in the current apartment, relocate them to Grandma's basement, and unpack them there.
  • I need to get a Grandma approved paint color, some primer, and paint the incredibly dark 1970s wood paneling to a lighter and more liveable shade of white or beige.  (So thankful that all of my furniture is a nice bright white color as that will help immensely as well!)
  • I need to shop (with my dad's help) for a replacement for George at some sort of affordable price.
  • I also need to tackle the challenge of getting back behind the wheel of a car again.
  • I will be involved in wedding planning with my brother and L.
  • I'll be working full time, and planning a major conference for work, to take place in early April, just after Easter.
  • I'll be hoping and praying my body gets back to normal post accident.
Those are just the immediate and major tasks.  There's quite a lot of them to be honest.

That's the scoop.  I'm still tired and frustrated.  I'm working on readjusting my expectations to what my new reality is going to be.  I'm a bit overwhelmed at the seeming enormity of the tasks in front of me, especially at a time when I know that I'm not physically well (I was still having health problems before the accident, and I've now compounded them.)  I'm working at finding that peace again.  At accepting what the next section of my life is going to look like.