suitably*woundedAgoraphobia -- Training wheels on or off? Again.
November 2nd 2006 02:21
[Warning! Super duper long ass post ahead.]
I'm not sure when I first became full blown agoraphobic. I remember how it started, with a bit here and a bit there, all because I felt terrified over certain situations. One of the earliest was having to deal with parking when I went to classes at the junior college. Now to be fair, there was always a huge rush/backflow for the tiny student sections we could use, but I doubt seriously that it was on the par with an Ivy Leaguer or hell, some place popular like SMU. Regardless, it began freaking me out. Shortly thereafter, buying groceries followed this same path and, I noticed, driving made me nervous too.
So, all that said, one day I woke up and didn't want to get out of the house unless accompanied. Mostly by my husband, but occasionally with my ride to part-time job I was clinging to. For school, it was close enough to walk. All this, my mind told me, was a way to facilitate was rapidly becoming the most important thing.... isolating to stay safe. I understand that in no universe does that make sense, but there you go. And before you know it, all the extra curricular activities had stopped anyway and I even started ditching the fun stuff as well. See, I loved Cats, so my husband bought tickets which went to waste. Equally, I'd never missed a Halloween (still my favorite holiday) to visit several haunted houses. Sadly, I passed up the opportunity for the first time somewhere 1998. Then there's things that I'm ashamed to miss, it was around the early dates that I couldn't even leave my home, out of this ever growing fear, to attend a funeral. Yeah, I suck.
Anyway, over the years, I've refused to see a doctor or dentist when necessary or cut my own hair to bypass the trips to Super Cuts. If an absolute emergency arose that was a must I saw to, I had almost forgotten how to drive. But, in the last decade, I've had (at least according to several therapists) periods "of wellness." Encapsulated within, I held down a real job again for about a year total and once my marriage had completely given way [as clarification here; although it has ceased to be anything other than on paper, due to everything I'll discuss here, we still live together, mainly because he refuses to do otherwise -- more details, I'm sure, forthcoming], I even quasi-stumbled through a 'relationship' which lasted about the same length. All told, you might be able to add all this up and give me roughly several years where I was almost normal. Still a huge struggle of course, with constant backsliding into mental illness.
So where am I now? In April, I tried to separate from my husband (Jaceson) and strike out on my own in the smallest manner possible. I have a, I think, '78 travel trailer. Which I'd lived in for a bit last year and had found I could work as a waitress with minimal stress. I combined these two facts and left for Dallas. I was going about okay and had finally reached a place I felt comfortable settling and was about to pound the pavement in an effort to become employed. Sadly, somehow that was derailed by one of those sever psychotic breaks I spoke of, and bam!, I ended up back in the hospital for a week. After that, it was all downhill from there and I wound up home instead of beating back the demons and facing daily thoughts of suicide alone.
Thank Og Jaceson was willing to take me in again.
Last night though, I went out alone. Sadly, it was 2:00 in the morning (I would curse my insomnia, but sometimes being asleep during the day is the best possible way for me to go.) and only a visit to the behemoth that is Wal*Mart, but there ya go. I did alright with the driving and didn't (much) paralyze with fear over shopping or paying. And I did land some good All Hallows Eve left overs at half price. Still, I seriously doubt if this means anything or is a step in any direction, unless treading counts. I mean, I ponder now how much a bag of ice needs to be bought and I can't summon the courage to get to the corner store by any means. Ridiculous. The only overall good thing I can look to is my medications, again, seem to be improving (including those blessed sleeping pills that'll knock me out for something akin to days -- the aftermath is why I was up all last night) and all that's left that is important is finding another therapist. Too many past and future, ya know?
However, as Scarlett said, tomorrow is another day. Isn't it?
I'm not sure when I first became full blown agoraphobic. I remember how it started, with a bit here and a bit there, all because I felt terrified over certain situations. One of the earliest was having to deal with parking when I went to classes at the junior college. Now to be fair, there was always a huge rush/backflow for the tiny student sections we could use, but I doubt seriously that it was on the par with an Ivy Leaguer or hell, some place popular like SMU. Regardless, it began freaking me out. Shortly thereafter, buying groceries followed this same path and, I noticed, driving made me nervous too.
So, all that said, one day I woke up and didn't want to get out of the house unless accompanied. Mostly by my husband, but occasionally with my ride to part-time job I was clinging to. For school, it was close enough to walk. All this, my mind told me, was a way to facilitate was rapidly becoming the most important thing.... isolating to stay safe. I understand that in no universe does that make sense, but there you go. And before you know it, all the extra curricular activities had stopped anyway and I even started ditching the fun stuff as well. See, I loved Cats, so my husband bought tickets which went to waste. Equally, I'd never missed a Halloween (still my favorite holiday) to visit several haunted houses. Sadly, I passed up the opportunity for the first time somewhere 1998. Then there's things that I'm ashamed to miss, it was around the early dates that I couldn't even leave my home, out of this ever growing fear, to attend a funeral. Yeah, I suck.
Anyway, over the years, I've refused to see a doctor or dentist when necessary or cut my own hair to bypass the trips to Super Cuts. If an absolute emergency arose that was a must I saw to, I had almost forgotten how to drive. But, in the last decade, I've had (at least according to several therapists) periods "of wellness." Encapsulated within, I held down a real job again for about a year total and once my marriage had completely given way [as clarification here; although it has ceased to be anything other than on paper, due to everything I'll discuss here, we still live together, mainly because he refuses to do otherwise -- more details, I'm sure, forthcoming], I even quasi-stumbled through a 'relationship' which lasted about the same length. All told, you might be able to add all this up and give me roughly several years where I was almost normal. Still a huge struggle of course, with constant backsliding into mental illness.
So where am I now? In April, I tried to separate from my husband (Jaceson) and strike out on my own in the smallest manner possible. I have a, I think, '78 travel trailer. Which I'd lived in for a bit last year and had found I could work as a waitress with minimal stress. I combined these two facts and left for Dallas. I was going about okay and had finally reached a place I felt comfortable settling and was about to pound the pavement in an effort to become employed. Sadly, somehow that was derailed by one of those sever psychotic breaks I spoke of, and bam!, I ended up back in the hospital for a week. After that, it was all downhill from there and I wound up home instead of beating back the demons and facing daily thoughts of suicide alone.
Thank Og Jaceson was willing to take me in again.
Last night though, I went out alone. Sadly, it was 2:00 in the morning (I would curse my insomnia, but sometimes being asleep during the day is the best possible way for me to go.) and only a visit to the behemoth that is Wal*Mart, but there ya go. I did alright with the driving and didn't (much) paralyze with fear over shopping or paying. And I did land some good All Hallows Eve left overs at half price. Still, I seriously doubt if this means anything or is a step in any direction, unless treading counts. I mean, I ponder now how much a bag of ice needs to be bought and I can't summon the courage to get to the corner store by any means. Ridiculous. The only overall good thing I can look to is my medications, again, seem to be improving (including those blessed sleeping pills that'll knock me out for something akin to days -- the aftermath is why I was up all last night) and all that's left that is important is finding another therapist. Too many past and future, ya know?
However, as Scarlett said, tomorrow is another day. Isn't it?
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Comment by Bryn
Horrorphile
(just kidding) ... a little inky black humour for your midnight on a moonless night soul ...
Here's snarlin' at cha with a glint in my lycanthropic eye ...
Comment by suitably*wounded
Eternal Days; Author: Illness, M.
*mwah with cold dead lips*
Comment by Adrian
Philosophy Blog
1. So have you seen anything on those Halloween-night haunted house expeditions?
2. What exactly is it that scares you about public places? That someone will attack you? The pressure of people's opinions? Something nameless? What is it that paralyzes?
Comment by suitably*wounded
Eternal Days; Author: Illness, M.
Now, let's see....
1.) Unfortunately, I never saw anything paranormal in all the haunted houses I attended. Plenty of props that scared my knickers off and had me in the floor, but overall, I simply got what I paid for. (Plus, that doesn't cover what I missed sandwiched between others with my head buried in someone's back -- although, at least I was younger than, like 23.)
2.) Hm. What so scary about a public place? Obviously, they're inherently not, but I think the overriding fear stems from too many people in too small a space (like Wal*Mart on the day after Thanksgiving) and all the hustle and the potential for confrontation (not with me, but with whoever else and the object of their ire -- like a refusal to accept a returned item).
I'm not worried about being attacked because I'd never even thought of that. But I appreciate you giving me another option.
Last of all, other people's opinion of me, thankfully, has remained inconsequential, even through illness. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here. You gets what you see, ya know? Plus I figure I'm infinitely uninteresting enough to warrant someone's observation, let alone generate enough scrutiny to merit comments further than a passing glance.
Hope that helps and again, I am completely appreciative of your reply. I'm sure you couldn't wait to see my long-ass retort. =D