Hello Old Friend and Foe

It’s back! My old friend and arch enemy, anxiety! I hate it but at least it is familiar, unlike much of what I have been dealing with lately. I was exhausted after working the last two days but only slept maybe two hours the whole night. Sleep was intermittent. I kept waking up with my stomach doing back flips, my chest feeling like someone was tightening a steel band around it and every muscle in my body in spasm. Why is it back? Jessica (my daily living support services worker) comes today and we have plans to do three things that cause my great to extreme anxiety but which I either need or want to learn to do on my own.

First, we go to the post office to get stamps. It’s a simple thing but I  struggle greatly with it. In this small town post office you never know if anyone will be watching the counter or if all the employees will be in the back when you walk in. If no one is around you are supposed to ring a bell on the counter to get attention. I can never do that! I just have a panic attack and either flee or pass out on the floor! To avoid that situation, if I go there on my own I circle the block until I see all five or six parking spaces in front of the post office have cars in them. Then I figure it is a good bet someone has already attracted the attention of the staff and it is safe to walk in. Sometimes I circle the block for hours! Sure I could just buy stamps online as I have many times in the past. But the point is for me to become able to do business at the local post office with reasonable comfort. This discomfort is the reason I haven’t gone back to selling on eBay since I gave up my beloved vehicle. It was easy enough to circle the block for hours with a Cherokee full of packages, but not so much with a stack of packages strapped on a bicycle!

Then it’s off to the hardware store to have them make a duplicate key. I have been wanting to get a spare key to my repeater shelter (an automated radio relay station I put up to help out the local club and community) so that Ben can have a key to the place. I have been trying to do this on my own for weeks but every time I panic and don’t go into the store. I’m comfortable shopping there (well, quasi-comfortable would be more correct) but to hand them a key and ask for a copy, no way! Too much interaction for this dude! I’m so terrified and uncertain of this situation that we decided the only way to prevent me from having a panic attack is for Jessica to hand them the key and take care of the whole transaction. That way I can observe and start the process of becoming desensitized to this situation without risk of having an attack.

Finally – and I’ve saved the most horrendous for last – it’s off to the local restaurant to see if we can get a menu to bring home. Again, Jessica will do all the talking while I observe. But oh my gosh! A restaurant!? Ugh! Hold on, dear readers… I need to take a break and attempt to get myself breathing again before I finish this. Whew! The mere thought of it is, in a word, terrifying. No, that is not a strong enough word. I don’t think there is a word in the English language to describe the feeling! The point of getting a menu is that it is a simple, brief exposure to place I am extremely uncomfortable with. It is the first step, we hope, to me becoming able to eat out. There will be many baby steps along this path!

I don’t even know why I want to become comfortable with restaurants. Well, I guess that’s not true. It’s just easier to hide from it. I told Jessica I want to be able to handle this so I could feel free to accept invitations to participate in more club activities. Over the years I have turned down so many chances to go out and do things with the gang because I know they often go out to lunch along the way. That is something I just could not risk. It’s not a false reason. I do want to be comfortable participating more. But at best it is a half truth.

I consider myself an intelligent person most of the time. But I have a stupid side! The ugly unspoken truth of it is, the greater driving force behind wanting to get comfortable eating out is the undying hope that someday I might meet someone I would want to go on a date with. How incredibly stupid is that? Imagine! As if I would be capable of asking someone out in the first place! As if anyone would want to go out with me! As if there would be any point if they did! I know I’m not relationship material, so to speak. I have far too many limitations. I’m ashamed, embarrassed, and perfectly horrified at even thinking such a thing. And yet, there it is. Somewhere deep within is the stupid part of me that never gives up hope, refuses to accept reality. I have worked hard for a long time to eradicate this part of me. But alas, it seems my efforts have not been altogether successful.

Two and a half hours to go. I swear if the damn clock ticks any louder it’ll shatter the windows! Or my eardrums!