Today

Yesterday, I woke up and I felt good.  For the first time in a long time, I woke up in the morning and I wasn’t afraid for my feet to touch the floor.  It sounds silly to most people, but I hate the mornings a lot.  And I’m scared of what is going to happen after my feet touch the floor.  Because as soon as my feet  feel the carpet under my bed, shit gets real.  First I have to get into the shower and I brush my teeth and wash my hair. Then, when I’m done with the incidentals, I let the water rush over me.   I think about what the day will bring.  I think about the things I need to get accomplished.  I think about the people I will have to encounter.  That’s when panic takes over  my consciousness.  I don’t remember a time that I have woken up, gotten into the shower, and then realized that the anxiety wasn’t so fierce, it made me puke.  Every day.  That’s how I wake up.  Then, after I find the strength to stop heaving, towel off, get dressed and I crawl into bed with Radley and I talk and sing to him, in the hopes that he’ll wake up without argument.  Those few minutes with my son, in the breaking daylight, calm me before the anxiety starts again.  Because as soon as we are out of bed, and making our way down the hallway, I know I’m just seconds away from fighting more battles.  Wash your face.  Brush your teeth.  Get dressed.  The same arguments.  Every morning.  the anxiety builds.  My mind is already exhausted by the time I back out of my driveway at 6:35.  That’s how I wake up every day. 

Anyway, back to yesterday. Yesterday, I woke up and I felt different.  I felt good.  No looming fear.  No dismal outlook on the day.  I woke up and I wasn’t afraid to get out of bed.  So, I did that.  I got out of bed and I was going to do things.  I was going to do the dishes.  I was going to get groceries.  I was going to fold laundry.  I was going to stop loving people who will never love me back.  I was going to go to mailbox and get the bills.  I wasn’t going to be afraid of paying the bills.  I was going to go to a party with many people I love.  At 7:AM yesterday morning, I believed I could do it.  All of it.  And as a reward for all of this motivation and positive energy, I was going to get a massage.  I think that may have been a mistake.  After I got some chores done in the morning, and I got my costume ready for the party, and I walked down to get my massage.  I was real excited.  I don’t get my hair done.  I don’t get my toes did.  I squeeze every last drop out of my makeup.  I don’t splurge.  So, a massage is pretty lavish.  I was gonna own it. 

Still real excited, I undressed and got under the sheet.  I laid face down.  Bambi, my masseuse, told me “relax and don’t think about anything.”  What the fuck?  Are you massage people messing with me?  Did you tell me to not think about anything?  Really?  Clearly, your brain doesn’t work like mine works.  Because when you tell me not to think, I’m just going to think more.  OK.  So I got over that.  And I enjoyed my massage.  Two hours later, Bambi said “take your time getting up.  Keep yourself hydrated.”  After it was over, I did not take my time getting up.  I stood up, real light headed, and got dressed.  She tried to make some small talk, but I couldn’t get out of that place quick enough. 

I stumbled, I staggered.  I hyperventilated.  By the time I got home, I was I was in the midst of a panic attack.  I found the good sense to text a friend and say “please tell everyone I’m sorry I can’t make it tonight.  I have a headache.”  Immediately after that I texted someone who get’s it.  I begged her to tell me that I don’t suck.  She did.  She told me a lot of other things, too.  She told me that sometimes you don’t need to go out.  She told me that I deal with enough people during the week that I don’t need to do it on my night off.  She told me to breath.  I did.  And I felt a little better. 

I still felt guilty, though.  Not so much because anybody missed me at that party, but today was going to  be different.  Today was supposed to be day that I stopped fearing the ordinary.  I was supposed to go out and embrace life.  I should have gone out and laughed with my friends, but instead, I closed myself off even more. 

When I had that monumental meltdown back in the spring, I vowed to change my life, my perspective, my actions.  But I’m still doing the same thing every day.  I don’t know if that’s progress or insanity.