Saturday, July 18th was a perfect day. There's no other way to describe it. So many things affect my anxiety/agoraphobia and my drives, which means some days I feel like I can drive anywhere and other days I can't get out of Towson.
The last time my college roommates and I were supposed to meet, we made plans to go to Holly's house in Crofton to meet her new baby, Reed. Croften is about 40 miles and 50 minutes from me. I had driven to Croften a few times before and it's a drive I feel confident making on most days. Before I go on drives, I never go out the night before because I need to be well-rested and not have had anything to drink the night before -- alcohol and sleep are the difference between making drives and not making them for me. The night before that time I didn't go out, but I woke up feeling off. It was a rainy, foggy day and I couldn't see into the distance. Everything looked foggy. I got on 695 and knew that wasn't my day. I texted them and told them I was sorry and I wished I could be there...
When I woke up on Saturday, July 18th, everything was different. It was sunny and warm out. The sky was blue with big, white clouds and I felt like I could see forever. I don't know why not being able to see into the distance triggers my anxiety. Maybe I feel like the further I can see, the further I can go. Who knows. But that day, I knew I was going far.
Misty, Holly, Jacque and I met at a diner in Crofton for brunch. Driving to Crofton that morning felt like driving to Bel Air. There were no agoraphobic thoughts in my mind. I still had my tea in the passenger seat and I took a few sips on the way, but I saved most of it for later. I easily drove the 25 miles on 695 then the 10 miles on 97 then 5 miles to the diner. I felt calm when I pulled up and put my feet on the black asphalt.
It was so great to finally meet Reed; he's six months old now! He's super cute and Holly seems so happy. Jacque's daughter, Riley, is cooler than I am. She's one and a half now and is walking and telling Jacque what she wants. I'm so glad I was able to make it this time and hang out this time and see the old roomies. I can't wait until I have kids and Riley and Reed are babysitting them :)
After brunch, I followed Misty back to Annapolis to see her house and hang out. She bought her house a year ago ( I think) and this was my first time going to see it. Misty's house is about 20 miles and 25 minutes from Crofton. We got back on Route 3 then took 97 for about 7 miles then got off at the Riva Road exit. Once we got off on Riva Road, we made some other turns and there were lights and some traffic. I drank the rest of my tea, but I felt okay. Her house was a little bit off the exit but it was easy to get there. I felt calm the whole way there. I pulled into the driveway and stepped out of the car on to the street in Annapolis. Her house is so cute. She has a nice fenced-in backyard, nice bathrooms, hardwood floors, a reading room, etc. She also has a little apartment that would be perfect for me and Gia except Jay said she would have to stay downstairs all the time :) I think he would change her mind once she moved in.
We had a Corona at Misty's house then drove about a mile down the road and parked in a bar parking lot across a small bridge to downtown Annapolis. We walked across the bridge that looked out on the water, so many boats, and lots of people kayaking, etc. It looked just like I imagine a brochure for Annapolis would look.
We went to Pusser's, which is a popular bar right on the water. We got a table outside and sat right next to the water. I felt like I was at Secrets or somewhere at the beach. We had a few beers and lots of great conversations. I love hanging out with Misty because, among other things, even though our lives are different and we don't see each other all the time, it feels like we do. And we have great conversations and never run out of things to talk about.
Just hanging out with Misty was already perfect, but the day got even better. First, Erica and Ashley met us for some food. Erica grilled Misty about Annapolis. Ashley and I witnessed the interview. Erica has spent the last week researching properties in Annapolis so she can move there. Then our friend Jeff from college came to meet us and brought his boyfriend. I had not seen Jeff in probably five years, so I was so happy to see him. He and I were the gay ones in our group of friends and I always considered him one of my best friends and favorite people in college and I regret that we have not done a better job at keeping in touch. Hopefully now we will see each other more often. Then Misty's fiance, Jason, came to meet us with a few of his friends. Then, when I thought it couldn't possibly get any better, Olga snuck up behind me and suprised me and behind her was Shannon. I love Olga and Shannon together and each of them seperately and I was able to have conversations with both of them. They are both so much fun and such great people and I feel lucky to know them. I feel lucky to know all of my friends from Salisbury. That school really does attract some quality people.
Misty and Olga both know all about my anxiety and agoraphobia and have known about it for years now. I love that I can have serious conversations with them about it but also joke around and make lite of it too. I took a lot of pictures of the boats and the water and we were joking around about me being a tourist even though I live about an hour from Annapolis. We took pictures in front of the Pusser's sign and Olga told me I should buy a souvenir t-shirt. Definitely next time :)
We walked back over the bridge to the car as the sun was going down. I took a few more pictures of the boats and Misty took a few of me glancing out at the water then I said goodbye and headed home. I was about one hour and 50 miles from home and I felt relaxed. I slowly drove the however many miles back to 97 then stayed on that for about 20 miles before finishing the 25 miles on 695. I listened to music and enjoyed the ride home. It had been a perfect day.
Friday, July 22, 2011
Silver Spring
Since I last blogged, I've gone on a few drives. On July 3, I drove to Silver Spring. This was not a huge far distance conquering drive for me, but it's a distance I want to be more comfortable with. I still have to bring calming tea in the car with me and I still have to prepare for it. I want driving to Silver Spring to feel like driving from Towson to Bel Air, which is where my parents live and does not cause me anxiety.
Silver Spring is about an hour drive and about 50 miles from my apartment. It's only about twenty minutes/twenty miles from Columbia, where I used to live, so it doesn't feel that far. I took Route 29 all the way to Silver Spring. Route 29 has become one of my favorite roads because it's like a small highway. There are stoplights every once in a while but mostly it's just a small highway with lots of exits. I never feel like I can't get off or turn around.
My goal of driving to Silver Sring on the 3rd was to look at places and see where I may want to live. The two people who were supposed to show me their places never responded, so I just kind of drove around. I got off 29 on a few exits before Silver Spring to see if there are any nice areas between Columbia and Silver Spring. I didn't end up finding exactly where I want to leave, but I made the drive which is the important part.
Silver Spring is about an hour drive and about 50 miles from my apartment. It's only about twenty minutes/twenty miles from Columbia, where I used to live, so it doesn't feel that far. I took Route 29 all the way to Silver Spring. Route 29 has become one of my favorite roads because it's like a small highway. There are stoplights every once in a while but mostly it's just a small highway with lots of exits. I never feel like I can't get off or turn around.
My goal of driving to Silver Sring on the 3rd was to look at places and see where I may want to live. The two people who were supposed to show me their places never responded, so I just kind of drove around. I got off 29 on a few exits before Silver Spring to see if there are any nice areas between Columbia and Silver Spring. I didn't end up finding exactly where I want to leave, but I made the drive which is the important part.
Monday, June 27, 2011
Dreams and Fears
When I was in high school, I always thought that I would move to New York City right after I graduated college. I'm not even sure why I applied to schools so close; I would have gone anywhere, and I now think that I should have gone further than the three hours away that I did go. My parents (specifically my mom) wanted me to stay close to home. And she still wants that even though she knows how hard it is for me to go far from home.
Right before I graduated from Salisbury, in the peak of my agoraphobia, I remember chatting on instant messanger with a good family friend. I was sitting in my twin sized bed chatting before I fell asleep, like I did most nights. On that particular night, my friend told me there was a job opening with her company in New York City that she could help me get if I wanted it. She said I should live in New Jersey near or with her and commute to the city. It was everything I had wanted when I was in high school and that I still wanted at that moment, but there was no way I could get there. Somehow in those four years, everything had changed. I had changed. I went from this carefree, young girl to this anxious, frazzled adult, but I still wanted the same things I had wanted before. I still wanted to live in NYC even though I knew there was no way my anxious mind would let me get there. I could not drive ten miles from my house at that time, so NYC seemed like a dream.
This past Friday night, I had a dream about the friend who offered me the job in NYC in 2005. I woke up thinking about how it's been six years and taking that job now is still something I would not be able to do. NYC is still a dream to me.
I spent Saturday sad and frustrated because I just want to be able to go places and I'm struggling to make that happen. I went to Hightopps with a friend on Saturday night to have a few drinks. For the first time, I told him all about my agoraphobia and anxiety. He understood more than anyone ever has, which made me feel a little bit less crazy. Most people have no idea what to say when I reveal this to them, but this friend just seemed to get it. I'm glad I told him. And I hope he can help me get on a plane by the end of the summer :)
Sometimes I'm sad and sometimes I'm super positive. Sometimes I know how lucky I am, and other times I would rather have anything else to deal with other than this. I needed a night to be frustrated and to tell someone those feelings to fuel my need and desire to really make myself go further. This has taken over a third of my life and it's time for me to take control.
The first step I think I need to make is to move. I need to get slightly out of my comfort zone so that I can expand my life. I have been accepted into a Nonprofit Management program at American University in D.C., so I think I'm going to move to that area. I think being forced to use public transportation and to explore a new part of the city will make me less comfortable and more willing to push my anxiety threshold. My mom doesn't want me to move because she wants me to stay close to home, but what she doesn't realize is that keeping me close to home could make me stay here forever and never leave. That's my biggest fear.
Right before I graduated from Salisbury, in the peak of my agoraphobia, I remember chatting on instant messanger with a good family friend. I was sitting in my twin sized bed chatting before I fell asleep, like I did most nights. On that particular night, my friend told me there was a job opening with her company in New York City that she could help me get if I wanted it. She said I should live in New Jersey near or with her and commute to the city. It was everything I had wanted when I was in high school and that I still wanted at that moment, but there was no way I could get there. Somehow in those four years, everything had changed. I had changed. I went from this carefree, young girl to this anxious, frazzled adult, but I still wanted the same things I had wanted before. I still wanted to live in NYC even though I knew there was no way my anxious mind would let me get there. I could not drive ten miles from my house at that time, so NYC seemed like a dream.
This past Friday night, I had a dream about the friend who offered me the job in NYC in 2005. I woke up thinking about how it's been six years and taking that job now is still something I would not be able to do. NYC is still a dream to me.
I spent Saturday sad and frustrated because I just want to be able to go places and I'm struggling to make that happen. I went to Hightopps with a friend on Saturday night to have a few drinks. For the first time, I told him all about my agoraphobia and anxiety. He understood more than anyone ever has, which made me feel a little bit less crazy. Most people have no idea what to say when I reveal this to them, but this friend just seemed to get it. I'm glad I told him. And I hope he can help me get on a plane by the end of the summer :)
Sometimes I'm sad and sometimes I'm super positive. Sometimes I know how lucky I am, and other times I would rather have anything else to deal with other than this. I needed a night to be frustrated and to tell someone those feelings to fuel my need and desire to really make myself go further. This has taken over a third of my life and it's time for me to take control.
The first step I think I need to make is to move. I need to get slightly out of my comfort zone so that I can expand my life. I have been accepted into a Nonprofit Management program at American University in D.C., so I think I'm going to move to that area. I think being forced to use public transportation and to explore a new part of the city will make me less comfortable and more willing to push my anxiety threshold. My mom doesn't want me to move because she wants me to stay close to home, but what she doesn't realize is that keeping me close to home could make me stay here forever and never leave. That's my biggest fear.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Positive Side
I just wanted to take a minute to talk about the positive side of being agoraphobic because there is one. I am so grateful for every new place I see. I remember driving home to Bel Air from Baltimore City comfortably for the first time in years; I remember taking the 95 ramp home noticing how the lights lit up the city. It was a beautiful sight that I'm not sure I would have noticed had it not been such a struggle for me to get there. Making it to Newark and Annapolis and D.C. all gave me similar feelings. I was and still am so grateful to have made it to those places.
I hear people talk about different cities and states and countries they have or are traveling to and I wonder if they stop to appreciate the fact that they are able to go to those places with no thought. This semester I talked to a few students who have barely been out of Baltimore because they take the bus everywhere and do not have the money or means to go anywhere and that makes me feel fortunate that I do have those luxuries even though it's harder for me than most people.
If I could go anywhere, I'm not sure that I would have found Camp Sunrise. If I had been busy using my vacation time to travel, I'm not sure that I would have looked for summer camps where I volunteer a week of my time. I would like to say that I would have sought out an opportunity like this anyway, but I'm not sure. All I know is that I'm glad I did. Camp Sunrise changed my life, so not being able to travel has given me as much as it has taken away from me. And spending a week with kids with cancer really puts your life into perspective and makes you grateful for everything you do have instead of the things your life is lacking or the things you can't do. Even though traveling is so hard for me, I know it could be so much worse. I know how lucky I am.
So my agoraphobia has helped me be more grateful and has led me to do things I might not otherwise have done. And even though I can't go anywhere I want, I am so blessed for the small steps that I have made and continue to make. And when I make it to the ocean this summer and see waves and smell the ocean for the first time in six years, I will feel like I've traveled the world.
I hear people talk about different cities and states and countries they have or are traveling to and I wonder if they stop to appreciate the fact that they are able to go to those places with no thought. This semester I talked to a few students who have barely been out of Baltimore because they take the bus everywhere and do not have the money or means to go anywhere and that makes me feel fortunate that I do have those luxuries even though it's harder for me than most people.
If I could go anywhere, I'm not sure that I would have found Camp Sunrise. If I had been busy using my vacation time to travel, I'm not sure that I would have looked for summer camps where I volunteer a week of my time. I would like to say that I would have sought out an opportunity like this anyway, but I'm not sure. All I know is that I'm glad I did. Camp Sunrise changed my life, so not being able to travel has given me as much as it has taken away from me. And spending a week with kids with cancer really puts your life into perspective and makes you grateful for everything you do have instead of the things your life is lacking or the things you can't do. Even though traveling is so hard for me, I know it could be so much worse. I know how lucky I am.
So my agoraphobia has helped me be more grateful and has led me to do things I might not otherwise have done. And even though I can't go anywhere I want, I am so blessed for the small steps that I have made and continue to make. And when I make it to the ocean this summer and see waves and smell the ocean for the first time in six years, I will feel like I've traveled the world.
Another Boot
So my last blog was about public transportation and control, which is taken away completely if I can't drive. I have gotten a lot better about being a passenger in a car, but I still prefer to be the driver. This has all been complicated by another boot.
In 2005, I was playing soccer drunk after a wedding with some friends and little kids and I broke my foot. I was on crutches and in a walking boot for months. It took so long for my foot to feel normal again.
Last week, I was playing tennis with a friend when I went for game point and turned my foot and fell hard. My foot swelled instantly and it looked like I had a tennis ball stuck to my ankle. It was big and gross and painful. Diagnosis: I sprained my ankle and tore some ligaments and may have fractured something. I have to go back to the doctor two more times. It's painful and annoying but I know it could be a lot worse. I was on crutches for a few days; now my foot is strong enough to walk with just the boot.
I really wanted to be able to do lots of drives this summer and the foot/boot problem makes me more anxious about it. I'm not supposed to be driving in my boot but I have been. I know it's not the smartest/safest thing to do, but I need to get to work, etc. I have limited my driving to short distances and necessary trips.
This weekend I'm supposed to go to D.C. Pride (which I've never been to) and maybe hang out with a girl I'm interested in. There are anxiety triggers with this drive such as traffic in D.C. and the fact that it's going to be packed. I'm also not sure if it's smarter to drive there or take the metro, which obviously is not my preference. And then there's the obvious foot concern with driving and then possibly having to walk around a lot once I get there, which may be too much for my foot too soon. Is this an excuse or a valid concern? My anxiety clouds my mind so much that I'm not sure. To go or not to go? I just feel like: "I have to go see about a girl."
In 2005, I was playing soccer drunk after a wedding with some friends and little kids and I broke my foot. I was on crutches and in a walking boot for months. It took so long for my foot to feel normal again.
Last week, I was playing tennis with a friend when I went for game point and turned my foot and fell hard. My foot swelled instantly and it looked like I had a tennis ball stuck to my ankle. It was big and gross and painful. Diagnosis: I sprained my ankle and tore some ligaments and may have fractured something. I have to go back to the doctor two more times. It's painful and annoying but I know it could be a lot worse. I was on crutches for a few days; now my foot is strong enough to walk with just the boot.
I really wanted to be able to do lots of drives this summer and the foot/boot problem makes me more anxious about it. I'm not supposed to be driving in my boot but I have been. I know it's not the smartest/safest thing to do, but I need to get to work, etc. I have limited my driving to short distances and necessary trips.
This weekend I'm supposed to go to D.C. Pride (which I've never been to) and maybe hang out with a girl I'm interested in. There are anxiety triggers with this drive such as traffic in D.C. and the fact that it's going to be packed. I'm also not sure if it's smarter to drive there or take the metro, which obviously is not my preference. And then there's the obvious foot concern with driving and then possibly having to walk around a lot once I get there, which may be too much for my foot too soon. Is this an excuse or a valid concern? My anxiety clouds my mind so much that I'm not sure. To go or not to go? I just feel like: "I have to go see about a girl."
Preakness
Going to Preakness was a poke at my anxiety; it was not something that completely threw me off, but it made my mind race a little bit. For those of you who have gone to Preakness, you know that there are lots of people and that you can't just pull up and walk in. I had to do some research and figure out how I would get there. I met my friend Jess and and a few other people at Jess' house in Pikesville. Jess suggested that all seven of us pile in her SUV, which would have been fun freshman year of college but the thought of it now made me picture myself having a panic attack. I told Jess I would drive, too.
I, of course, had done my research and decided that easiest way to get there would be to park at the shuttle stop closes to Preakness so the bus ride would be as short as possible. Public transportation makes me feel completely out of control because I can't turn around if I need or want to; this is why I struggle with flying. At least with a bus or on a train, I could get off at the next stop. There are no stops in the air.
So I left Jess' house with two of the people in the group and we drove to the shuttle stop. There were only five other people on our bus and it was only about a four mile bus ride, so this wasn't a huge public transportation challenge for me but I still felt good that I did it.
This is a blog about anxiety/agoraphobia and traveling, so all I will say about Preakness was that it was a great time and I drank a little too much which brings me to the ride home. My friend Dylan and I walked towards the buses to go back to the shuttle stop. We got on the first bus we saw because we assumed they were all going to all of the shuttle stops. The bus was packed with people sitting in all the seats as well as standing in the middle. Like I said, I had been drinking so I was calm on the bus ride. We pulled up to what we thought was our first stop and every single person got off the bus; I had no idea where we were. The bus driver told us that each bus was going to one stop and we got on the wrong one, so she would take us back to Preakness.
We pulled up where the buses were loading and found hundreds, maybe thousands of people drunk and waiting for buses. I was still drunk but this sight made my anxiety spike a little bit. There was no way to get back to our cars. I suggested we walk, but Dylan thought it was too long. He walked over to a van and started talking to the driver. All the sudden he was asking me to come his way and get in this van. We piled in with six other people and were on our way. Dylan paid $20 for these guys driving a van, which they called a cab, to take us the four miles back to our cars. It was worth it.
That was the beginning of my goal to become more comfortable riding public transportation. I need to learn to let go of the control. I'm hoping to be on a plane by the end of the summer...
I, of course, had done my research and decided that easiest way to get there would be to park at the shuttle stop closes to Preakness so the bus ride would be as short as possible. Public transportation makes me feel completely out of control because I can't turn around if I need or want to; this is why I struggle with flying. At least with a bus or on a train, I could get off at the next stop. There are no stops in the air.
So I left Jess' house with two of the people in the group and we drove to the shuttle stop. There were only five other people on our bus and it was only about a four mile bus ride, so this wasn't a huge public transportation challenge for me but I still felt good that I did it.
This is a blog about anxiety/agoraphobia and traveling, so all I will say about Preakness was that it was a great time and I drank a little too much which brings me to the ride home. My friend Dylan and I walked towards the buses to go back to the shuttle stop. We got on the first bus we saw because we assumed they were all going to all of the shuttle stops. The bus was packed with people sitting in all the seats as well as standing in the middle. Like I said, I had been drinking so I was calm on the bus ride. We pulled up to what we thought was our first stop and every single person got off the bus; I had no idea where we were. The bus driver told us that each bus was going to one stop and we got on the wrong one, so she would take us back to Preakness.
We pulled up where the buses were loading and found hundreds, maybe thousands of people drunk and waiting for buses. I was still drunk but this sight made my anxiety spike a little bit. There was no way to get back to our cars. I suggested we walk, but Dylan thought it was too long. He walked over to a van and started talking to the driver. All the sudden he was asking me to come his way and get in this van. We piled in with six other people and were on our way. Dylan paid $20 for these guys driving a van, which they called a cab, to take us the four miles back to our cars. It was worth it.
That was the beginning of my goal to become more comfortable riding public transportation. I need to learn to let go of the control. I'm hoping to be on a plane by the end of the summer...
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
This is the summer...
This is the summer I'm going to make it to the beach. I can feel it. On Sunday, May 29, I went on my first drive. I didn't go as far as I wanted to, but that was more because I didn't have a destination or a reason to go anywhere than because I was anxious. My loosely stated goal was to make it to Newark, DE and walk around. It was a beautiful day and I went to the pool in the morning and wanted to go to a cookout in the afternoon, so I didn't go as far as I planned.
Newark, Delaware is about 75 miles and an hour and a half from where I live in Towson and just an hour from my parents' house in Bel Air. I didn't leave until about 3 in the afternoon and I wanted to get to a cookout by 6 or 7. I drove the 30 miles to my parents' house and dropped my dog, Gia, off so I could drive without having her sit in my lap. Newark is about 45 miles from my parents' house. There is a bridge you have to cross over right in the middle of the drive. This is a bridge I've driven over many, many times in my life. When I was a newspaper reporter, I had to drive over it at least four times a month, usually more. It's about two miles long, which is half the distance of the Bay Bridge, but it feels even shorter. The way the Bay Bridge goes up and curves so you can see the whole span of the bridge when you go over it makes me super anxious. I have gone over the Bay Bridge once since my junior year of college and that was on a trip to make sure I could do it. I made it over and back, but I told myself the whole way over that I could take a boat back if I needed to. That was probably the most anxious I've been in years.
But, I had never been too anxious when I drove over the bridge on the way to Newark until that day of my drive. I had not been over that bridge in a couple years and it made me anxious. There's a McDonalds on the right side before you get on the bridge. I pulled into the parking lot and noticed I could go out the back of the lot and turn around, but I knew I couldn't do that. Even if I didn't make it to Newark, I needed to make it over the bridge. I clutched my steering wheel and picked up the speed a little bit. For anyone who has never been over the Route 40 bridge from Harford County into Cecil County, it looks like it was built hundreds of years ago and doesn't seem too sturdy to me. The Interstate 95 bridge, which runs parallel to the 40 bridge, seems a lot more stable. It feels more like you're still on the highway than like being on a bridge in the middle of the water. But, glancing over at the 95 bridge from the Route 40 bridge, the 95 one didn't look much better. For those of you who don't know, the reason people take the Route 40 bridge is because you can buy a one time ticket for $5 and go over the Route 40 bridge as many times as you want. The 95 bridge is $5 each time you go over it, which is probably why it looks a lot better than the 40 bridge.
After I got over the bridge, I was a little shaken up. I wasn't thinking about the distance; I was thinking about the fact that I had to go back over that bridge. I had driven over this bridge so many times and couldn't believe that it even made me clutch my steering wheel a little bit. I drove about five more miles on Route 40 towards Newark, but I kept thinking about getting back over the bridge and that I really had nowhere to go in Newark. I wasn't meeting anyone and I did have a cookout to go to back home. I did a u-turn and went back, but this time I didn't get back on the Route 40 bridge. I turned right and went about a mile to get on 95 south in hopes that, like I remembered, that bridge was a lot easier to go over.
I got on 95 and saw the bridge after only driving for a few minutes. Like I remembered, it was so much easier to go over than the Route 40 bridge. It has three or four lanes instead of the two lane Route 40 bridge. It just looks newer and wider and feels like it's just an extension of the highway. If it were dark and I couldn't see the water, I may not even know I was traveling on a bridge. In the future, I will be paying $5 each time and staying on 95 for my drives towards Newark.
I didn't make it to Newark that day but not because it was too far. I'm confident that I can make it there, and making it over that bridge and into Cecil County before June 1 is a good sign I'm going to make it to the Delaware beaches this summer. Traveling is sort of like exercising to me. Once you have reached a goal, you know you can do it again but you may have to prepare yourself for it. If you run a marathon once, you know you can do it again but you can't not run for a year then try to run 26 miles; you need to build up your distance. I've driven to Newark and I know I can make it there again, but I need to build up my distance. And anything is easier once you've conquered it once. So, getting to the beach is going to be so much easier next summer once I conquer it this summer.
Newark, Delaware is about 75 miles and an hour and a half from where I live in Towson and just an hour from my parents' house in Bel Air. I didn't leave until about 3 in the afternoon and I wanted to get to a cookout by 6 or 7. I drove the 30 miles to my parents' house and dropped my dog, Gia, off so I could drive without having her sit in my lap. Newark is about 45 miles from my parents' house. There is a bridge you have to cross over right in the middle of the drive. This is a bridge I've driven over many, many times in my life. When I was a newspaper reporter, I had to drive over it at least four times a month, usually more. It's about two miles long, which is half the distance of the Bay Bridge, but it feels even shorter. The way the Bay Bridge goes up and curves so you can see the whole span of the bridge when you go over it makes me super anxious. I have gone over the Bay Bridge once since my junior year of college and that was on a trip to make sure I could do it. I made it over and back, but I told myself the whole way over that I could take a boat back if I needed to. That was probably the most anxious I've been in years.
But, I had never been too anxious when I drove over the bridge on the way to Newark until that day of my drive. I had not been over that bridge in a couple years and it made me anxious. There's a McDonalds on the right side before you get on the bridge. I pulled into the parking lot and noticed I could go out the back of the lot and turn around, but I knew I couldn't do that. Even if I didn't make it to Newark, I needed to make it over the bridge. I clutched my steering wheel and picked up the speed a little bit. For anyone who has never been over the Route 40 bridge from Harford County into Cecil County, it looks like it was built hundreds of years ago and doesn't seem too sturdy to me. The Interstate 95 bridge, which runs parallel to the 40 bridge, seems a lot more stable. It feels more like you're still on the highway than like being on a bridge in the middle of the water. But, glancing over at the 95 bridge from the Route 40 bridge, the 95 one didn't look much better. For those of you who don't know, the reason people take the Route 40 bridge is because you can buy a one time ticket for $5 and go over the Route 40 bridge as many times as you want. The 95 bridge is $5 each time you go over it, which is probably why it looks a lot better than the 40 bridge.
After I got over the bridge, I was a little shaken up. I wasn't thinking about the distance; I was thinking about the fact that I had to go back over that bridge. I had driven over this bridge so many times and couldn't believe that it even made me clutch my steering wheel a little bit. I drove about five more miles on Route 40 towards Newark, but I kept thinking about getting back over the bridge and that I really had nowhere to go in Newark. I wasn't meeting anyone and I did have a cookout to go to back home. I did a u-turn and went back, but this time I didn't get back on the Route 40 bridge. I turned right and went about a mile to get on 95 south in hopes that, like I remembered, that bridge was a lot easier to go over.
I got on 95 and saw the bridge after only driving for a few minutes. Like I remembered, it was so much easier to go over than the Route 40 bridge. It has three or four lanes instead of the two lane Route 40 bridge. It just looks newer and wider and feels like it's just an extension of the highway. If it were dark and I couldn't see the water, I may not even know I was traveling on a bridge. In the future, I will be paying $5 each time and staying on 95 for my drives towards Newark.
I didn't make it to Newark that day but not because it was too far. I'm confident that I can make it there, and making it over that bridge and into Cecil County before June 1 is a good sign I'm going to make it to the Delaware beaches this summer. Traveling is sort of like exercising to me. Once you have reached a goal, you know you can do it again but you may have to prepare yourself for it. If you run a marathon once, you know you can do it again but you can't not run for a year then try to run 26 miles; you need to build up your distance. I've driven to Newark and I know I can make it there again, but I need to build up my distance. And anything is easier once you've conquered it once. So, getting to the beach is going to be so much easier next summer once I conquer it this summer.
Thursday, May 12, 2011
Orioles Game
Oh, the mind of an anxious person is like a wheel constantly turning; it never takes a break and often turns way too fast. Plans that should be fun are often dreadful because of all the thoughts even if they don't cause a complete panic attack. I'm sure some of you know what I'm talking about.
I made plans to go to the Orioles game last Saturday during the day for my friend Brent's birthday. Anyone who knows me knows that I'm usually hesitant to make definite plans, which is usually because of my anxiety in some way. I had told my friend Brent I would be at the game, but I didn't decide I was definitely going until I woke up that Saturday morning. I went outside for Gia's morning walk and it was sunny and warm; it was a perfect day for a baseball game. I asked my friend Dylan if he wanted to come with me and he said he did. He told me to come to his place in Federal Hill and we would leave my car there and walk to the stadium. I wasn't sure about this idea because I like to have my car close in case I need to leave suddenly. I needed more details like how far his place was to the stadium and what the route to get there was.
I left early and started driving to the stadium. My plan was to tell him that I was early so I would just park somewhere and he could meet me there even though parking in a garage would cost money and parking at his place was free. But as I got closer, I didn't know what garage to park in or how exactly to get to the stadium. I knew my car wasn't going to be close no matter what. I like going to places with parking lots so I can easily get back to my car. I thought about turning around and going home because it all seemed like too much trouble, but Dylan called me as I was driving through the city. He was ready and wanted me to come over. I decided I would just do that.
I parked my car in his driveway and then started asking him how far the it was and how to get there. I told him I didn't like not knowing how to get back to my car; I don't like to have to rely on anyone else to get anywhere. He told me it was about a half a mile then he said three-quarters of a mile then he said about a mile. I don't think he really knew. I asked him if he thought we should drive, but he said he didn't think we would find a spot. I told him he I would prefer to drive. He said he didn't understand how I could run 13 miles, but I didn't want to walk one mile. That's something people often don't understand; it's just different. I could walk miles and miles in circles, but I couldn't walk the same amount of miles away from my home or a comfortable place to me. It's all about distance and control and being able to get back to comfort.
After having a conversation about this for a few minutes, he said we were walking because it would be good for me in more ways than one. When we got about a half mile from my car, he asked if I was doing okay. He asked me lots of questions and kept me talking so I wouldn't think about being away from my car. It was probably a two mile walk to the stadium, but it wasn't bad at all. Once we got there, we got beers then found my friend Brent and all his friends. We ended up having a lot of fun and meeting a few new awesome people.
I didn't remember how to get back to the car, so I had to rely on Dylan to get me there. I guess you have to let other people take car of you sometimes. The sun was going down as we walked back to his place, but it was still so warm out. I didn't think at all about how far we were from my car and before I knew it we were back. The walk home seemed a lot shorter than the walk there; it always does.
I made plans to go to the Orioles game last Saturday during the day for my friend Brent's birthday. Anyone who knows me knows that I'm usually hesitant to make definite plans, which is usually because of my anxiety in some way. I had told my friend Brent I would be at the game, but I didn't decide I was definitely going until I woke up that Saturday morning. I went outside for Gia's morning walk and it was sunny and warm; it was a perfect day for a baseball game. I asked my friend Dylan if he wanted to come with me and he said he did. He told me to come to his place in Federal Hill and we would leave my car there and walk to the stadium. I wasn't sure about this idea because I like to have my car close in case I need to leave suddenly. I needed more details like how far his place was to the stadium and what the route to get there was.
I left early and started driving to the stadium. My plan was to tell him that I was early so I would just park somewhere and he could meet me there even though parking in a garage would cost money and parking at his place was free. But as I got closer, I didn't know what garage to park in or how exactly to get to the stadium. I knew my car wasn't going to be close no matter what. I like going to places with parking lots so I can easily get back to my car. I thought about turning around and going home because it all seemed like too much trouble, but Dylan called me as I was driving through the city. He was ready and wanted me to come over. I decided I would just do that.
I parked my car in his driveway and then started asking him how far the it was and how to get there. I told him I didn't like not knowing how to get back to my car; I don't like to have to rely on anyone else to get anywhere. He told me it was about a half a mile then he said three-quarters of a mile then he said about a mile. I don't think he really knew. I asked him if he thought we should drive, but he said he didn't think we would find a spot. I told him he I would prefer to drive. He said he didn't understand how I could run 13 miles, but I didn't want to walk one mile. That's something people often don't understand; it's just different. I could walk miles and miles in circles, but I couldn't walk the same amount of miles away from my home or a comfortable place to me. It's all about distance and control and being able to get back to comfort.
After having a conversation about this for a few minutes, he said we were walking because it would be good for me in more ways than one. When we got about a half mile from my car, he asked if I was doing okay. He asked me lots of questions and kept me talking so I wouldn't think about being away from my car. It was probably a two mile walk to the stadium, but it wasn't bad at all. Once we got there, we got beers then found my friend Brent and all his friends. We ended up having a lot of fun and meeting a few new awesome people.
I didn't remember how to get back to the car, so I had to rely on Dylan to get me there. I guess you have to let other people take car of you sometimes. The sun was going down as we walked back to his place, but it was still so warm out. I didn't think at all about how far we were from my car and before I knew it we were back. The walk home seemed a lot shorter than the walk there; it always does.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Six Flags
Cindy and I went to Six Flags on a random Friday last summer. Cindy met me at my apartment and I drove from there. Although I'm more comfortable being a passenger than I used to be, I still prefer to drive to places I may get anxious. Cindy knew this and was prepared for a potential panic attack on the way.
Six Flags is about 50 miles from my apartment. We started the drive on 695 then got on 97 then Crain Highway then we were supposed to get on Route 214, but there was some traffic, so we had to take some back roads. We turned around right by my friend Holly's house in Crofton, so I knew where I was and I didn't feel too anxious. From there, I can't tell you where we went. We got on this back road and passed lots of grass and fields; I was looking forward to turning in five miles like my GPS said. Once we got to the turn, it said I had to stay on that road for ten more miles before turning. This made my hands a little shaky and my mind a little racey. We were about to be about fifteen miles from the last highway that I knew of since I couldn't predict if there would be one up ahead. I wanted to turn around, but I kept driving. Clenching my fists around the steering wheel, I stared ahead and kept going. Cindy knew I was anxious and convinced me to keep going.
We passed more grass, corn fields, and a few houses. It didn't seem like we were heading towards a Six Flags in a suburb of D.C., but as the miles decreased the lanes in the road increased and soon enough we saw a sign for Six Flags. We pulled into the parking lot around 11:00 a.m. Cindy, correct me if I'm wrong on that information. We decided that we needed to leave by 2:00 p.m. to avoid the rush hour traffic. Most of the time I was there, I was worried about hitting traffic on the way home though my anxiety did subside a little bit when we walked through the gates.
We went right to the water park. We put our stuff in a locker and wore just our bathing suits. We looked at the high water slides and decided to start with a mid-sized one. It wasn't straight down or too long. It had a drop at the end, but it wasn't too extreme. We grabbed tubes and walked up the wet, never-ending spiral stairs. Once we got the the top, I wanted to go back down. We were up high looking down at the all the stairs we had just walked up. It would take a few minutes to push past the people lining up behind us to get back down. I knew the slide would be faster. Cindy said we had to face our fears and go down the slide so I listened to her and went down it. It was fun and the ride was over in only a few seconds.
It's ridiculous how much thought it takes to go down one water slide. This is just how my mind works. I wish I could turn off all the anxiety/thoughts/overthinking, but if I did I would be a different person.
Cindy and I spent the next couple hours going up stairs and down slides and each time I thought about it a little bit less. By the end, I was enjoying the slides more than I was hating the stairs. We floated in the lazy river and went down a few kiddie slides. Each time I got to the top of a water slide, I glanced in the distance at the road to make sure there wasn't a back-up or too much traffic. It looked clear and we were sticking to our time schedule.
After the water park, Cindy wanted to get on one roller coaster. The thought of being trapped a small car slowly going up a hill just to quickly fall down it just felt like one big panic attack to me. All growing up and through high school, I loved roller coasters. I always wanted to go on the biggest and best ones wherever we were. Years later, looking up at the hills and the inability to get off gave me a post-panic attack headache without even having one. I needed a sprite. Cindy decided to skip the rollercoaster because she didn't think riding one by herself would be that much fun. We needed to be back to the car by 2:00 p.m. anyway and that time was approaching.
The first few miles of a drive home from anywhere always gives me some anxiety because I don't know what's ahead. I don't know if it's going to be a smooth drive or if there's a back-up on a highway far from my home that I don't know how to get around. This drive home was perfect. We didn't have to take the country back roads; we got right on Route 214 which took us to Crain Highway then to 97 then back to 695. We didn't hit any traffic and I didn't have a panic attack. I was relieved for myself and for Cindy that neither of those things happened. Now hopefully she will go back again with me this summer.
Six Flags is about 50 miles from my apartment. We started the drive on 695 then got on 97 then Crain Highway then we were supposed to get on Route 214, but there was some traffic, so we had to take some back roads. We turned around right by my friend Holly's house in Crofton, so I knew where I was and I didn't feel too anxious. From there, I can't tell you where we went. We got on this back road and passed lots of grass and fields; I was looking forward to turning in five miles like my GPS said. Once we got to the turn, it said I had to stay on that road for ten more miles before turning. This made my hands a little shaky and my mind a little racey. We were about to be about fifteen miles from the last highway that I knew of since I couldn't predict if there would be one up ahead. I wanted to turn around, but I kept driving. Clenching my fists around the steering wheel, I stared ahead and kept going. Cindy knew I was anxious and convinced me to keep going.
We passed more grass, corn fields, and a few houses. It didn't seem like we were heading towards a Six Flags in a suburb of D.C., but as the miles decreased the lanes in the road increased and soon enough we saw a sign for Six Flags. We pulled into the parking lot around 11:00 a.m. Cindy, correct me if I'm wrong on that information. We decided that we needed to leave by 2:00 p.m. to avoid the rush hour traffic. Most of the time I was there, I was worried about hitting traffic on the way home though my anxiety did subside a little bit when we walked through the gates.
We went right to the water park. We put our stuff in a locker and wore just our bathing suits. We looked at the high water slides and decided to start with a mid-sized one. It wasn't straight down or too long. It had a drop at the end, but it wasn't too extreme. We grabbed tubes and walked up the wet, never-ending spiral stairs. Once we got the the top, I wanted to go back down. We were up high looking down at the all the stairs we had just walked up. It would take a few minutes to push past the people lining up behind us to get back down. I knew the slide would be faster. Cindy said we had to face our fears and go down the slide so I listened to her and went down it. It was fun and the ride was over in only a few seconds.
It's ridiculous how much thought it takes to go down one water slide. This is just how my mind works. I wish I could turn off all the anxiety/thoughts/overthinking, but if I did I would be a different person.
Cindy and I spent the next couple hours going up stairs and down slides and each time I thought about it a little bit less. By the end, I was enjoying the slides more than I was hating the stairs. We floated in the lazy river and went down a few kiddie slides. Each time I got to the top of a water slide, I glanced in the distance at the road to make sure there wasn't a back-up or too much traffic. It looked clear and we were sticking to our time schedule.
After the water park, Cindy wanted to get on one roller coaster. The thought of being trapped a small car slowly going up a hill just to quickly fall down it just felt like one big panic attack to me. All growing up and through high school, I loved roller coasters. I always wanted to go on the biggest and best ones wherever we were. Years later, looking up at the hills and the inability to get off gave me a post-panic attack headache without even having one. I needed a sprite. Cindy decided to skip the rollercoaster because she didn't think riding one by herself would be that much fun. We needed to be back to the car by 2:00 p.m. anyway and that time was approaching.
The first few miles of a drive home from anywhere always gives me some anxiety because I don't know what's ahead. I don't know if it's going to be a smooth drive or if there's a back-up on a highway far from my home that I don't know how to get around. This drive home was perfect. We didn't have to take the country back roads; we got right on Route 214 which took us to Crain Highway then to 97 then back to 695. We didn't hit any traffic and I didn't have a panic attack. I was relieved for myself and for Cindy that neither of those things happened. Now hopefully she will go back again with me this summer.
I didn't write this, but I had to share it...Date a Girl Who Reads...
Date A Girl Who Reads by Rosemarie Urquico Posted: February 16, 2011 by dyanxtine in poetic much
Tags: books, date, girl, love, read
Tags: books, date, girl, love, read
6
(In Response to Charles Warnke’s You Should Date An Illiterate Girl.)
Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.
Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag.She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.
She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.
Buy her another cup of coffee.
Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.
It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.
She has to give it a shot somehow.
Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.
Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.
Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilightseries.
If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.
You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.
You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.
Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.
Or better yet, date a girl who writes.
Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.
Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag.She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.
She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.
Buy her another cup of coffee.
Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.
It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.
She has to give it a shot somehow.
Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.
Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.
Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilightseries.
If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.
You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.
You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.
Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.
Or better yet, date a girl who writes.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Camp Sunrise
I do things better when I do them for other people; I am not enough to push myself to do something that makes me anxious. Other people give me the drive to do things if I am emotionally invested in that person or group of people. I was in love with Lindsey and therefore wanted to do things and go places with her and for her. Our love was bigger than me; it was more important than me.
When we broke up, I needed to find something bigger than me with which I would become emotionally attached to pull me out of my daily, comfortable life and I found that last summer. I volunteered for a week at a camp called Camp Sunrise, which is for kids who have or have had cancer. The camp was located in White Hall, Maryland, which is about 40 miles from my apartment, and it's out in the middle of nowhere. It's far from highways, main roads, and escape routes. One of the characteristics or people with agoraphobia, including myself, is the need to be able to escape quickly to a place of comfort. This inability to escape is why traveling far distances is a problem for me and for other people. This is also why I prefer going places that are right off major highways; even four or five miles off a highway can make me feel so far away and make me anxious. Being out in the middle of nowhere far from highways is a situation that would cause me to have a panic attack. This didn't stop me from going to camp because I knew that the experience would be bigger than me, and I had already committed to being there for the kids. I didn't do a practice drive to camp before that week; I knew I would make it because it wasn't about me.
The first day was harder than I thought it would be. The campers weren't there yet; it was just counselors and other staff members and most people already knew each other. It felt just like starting a new school or job: out of place and awkward. I'm sure all of you know the feeling and the uncertainty: who will I sit with at the next meal? who will I talk to during downtime?, etc...Fortunately, I became friends with a girl in my cabin who was also new to camp. The day was long, but I got through it without too many moments with no one to talk to.
I started getting a little nervous as the sun was going down and the day was coming to an end. I knew I was going to have trouble sleeping and for an anxious person, sleep is essential; next to too much alcohol, lack of sleep is what causes me more anxiety than anything else. In regular life, I drink bedtime tea every night and I read then I fall asleep to some sitcom like Everybody Loves Raymond or Kind of Queens. I have my fan by my bed for noise and so that I don't get too hot. I sleep well and I sleep more than most people. I get about nine hours of sleep every night, and I need all of that. If I don't get it, I'm not tired and groggy; instead, I have lots of anxious energy. It makes me feel crazy.
The first night at camp, I tried putting bedtime tea bags in a cup of cold water and tried to read before I attempted to fall asleep. Neither effort worked. I didn't sleep at all that first night. I tried reading, counting things in my head, and going outside and walking around but nothing helped. It makes it almost impossible to sleep when you know you're going to have trouble and when you're trying not to wake up the other people in your cabin. I didn't know how I was going to make it through the whole week.
The kids got there that morning and everything changed. I knew that even if I didn't sleep at all, I would make it through the week of camp. I was a counselor in a cabin with the youngest girls. We rounded them up and helped them get their luggage off the truck. They were so small trying to pull and carry their big bags and suitcases. Some of them had bald heads and some had hair; some of them were in treatment and some were survivors, but all of them either had or were experiencing something so scary that no child should ever have to experience.
Throughout the week, I got to know all of the girls in my cabin really well. One girl loved to read and was a really great artist; one loved to play sports and tried to act much older than she was; a few talked a lot and a couple were really quiet; one didn't like to touch the door because of all the germs; one girl hugged me before bed every night; another one was really homesick at the beginning of the week but fell in love with camp by the end of the week.
I got a little bit more sleep each night I was there. I told the counselors in my cabin that I would do polar bear swim, which is taking the campers to the pool at 7:00 a.m. for a 20 minute swim before breakfast. The young girls loved this, but the number who got up was dwindling by the day. Friday was the last day of polar bear swim and I was pretty exhausted from the week and we were trying to decide who would go to polar bear swim. I thought about trying to sleep a little later the next day since one of the other counselors said she would go because she hadn't gone all week. The camper who had been homesick earlier in the week came to me and asked me if I would take them because she wanted me to get in the pool with her. I said I would love to. That same camper had not been swimming earlier in the week because she had a central line in and didn't want to go through the trouble of getting it covered to swim, but we convinced her that it was no trouble. That Friday morning I woke the three girls up who wanted to go to polar bear swim and we went to medical to get her central line covered then headed to the pool. The water was cold but it was worth it to see the once homesick camper swimming, smiling, and splashing with the other girls, which she had not done earlier in the week. That was one of my favorite moments from camp.
I went to Towson Fest with my friend Jess from Salisbury, my friend Sarah from work, and a few others. Jess and I were walking around and I saw the camper who hugged me goodnight every night before bed on the other side of the street. It was the first time since camp that I saw one of my campers out in public. My group was all young girls so you don't really keep in touch with them. I sent them pictures after camp but that was it. I thought I was going to cry because I was so excited to see this camper. She didn't see me the first time I walked by her, so I told Jess we had to go back and walk towards her again so she would see me. She saw me that time and came up and gave me a big hug. She told me she would be at camp this summer and I told her I would be too.
The following day, I was grocery shopping in Giant when I looked up and saw the camper who was homesick on one of the Triple Winner posters in the store. I almost cried again and then I stopped to take a picture of it with my phone. Next time you're in the Giant checkout line, think about donating $1 for a Triple Winner scratch off because all the money goes to pediatric cancer research and you will most likely win something from Giant. I won a free sponge with my scratch off. And make sure you look at the signs because you will see my one of my campers and other pediatric oncology patients.
Seeing one camper in person and one on a sign has got me really excited for camp this year. It's being held in Annapolis this year and I know I'll get there and not sleep, but I'll stay and, again, it will be the best week of my summer and I know even if I'm anxious, it will be worth it because being a part of Camp Sunrise is something that is bigger than me.
When we broke up, I needed to find something bigger than me with which I would become emotionally attached to pull me out of my daily, comfortable life and I found that last summer. I volunteered for a week at a camp called Camp Sunrise, which is for kids who have or have had cancer. The camp was located in White Hall, Maryland, which is about 40 miles from my apartment, and it's out in the middle of nowhere. It's far from highways, main roads, and escape routes. One of the characteristics or people with agoraphobia, including myself, is the need to be able to escape quickly to a place of comfort. This inability to escape is why traveling far distances is a problem for me and for other people. This is also why I prefer going places that are right off major highways; even four or five miles off a highway can make me feel so far away and make me anxious. Being out in the middle of nowhere far from highways is a situation that would cause me to have a panic attack. This didn't stop me from going to camp because I knew that the experience would be bigger than me, and I had already committed to being there for the kids. I didn't do a practice drive to camp before that week; I knew I would make it because it wasn't about me.
The first day was harder than I thought it would be. The campers weren't there yet; it was just counselors and other staff members and most people already knew each other. It felt just like starting a new school or job: out of place and awkward. I'm sure all of you know the feeling and the uncertainty: who will I sit with at the next meal? who will I talk to during downtime?, etc...Fortunately, I became friends with a girl in my cabin who was also new to camp. The day was long, but I got through it without too many moments with no one to talk to.
I started getting a little nervous as the sun was going down and the day was coming to an end. I knew I was going to have trouble sleeping and for an anxious person, sleep is essential; next to too much alcohol, lack of sleep is what causes me more anxiety than anything else. In regular life, I drink bedtime tea every night and I read then I fall asleep to some sitcom like Everybody Loves Raymond or Kind of Queens. I have my fan by my bed for noise and so that I don't get too hot. I sleep well and I sleep more than most people. I get about nine hours of sleep every night, and I need all of that. If I don't get it, I'm not tired and groggy; instead, I have lots of anxious energy. It makes me feel crazy.
The first night at camp, I tried putting bedtime tea bags in a cup of cold water and tried to read before I attempted to fall asleep. Neither effort worked. I didn't sleep at all that first night. I tried reading, counting things in my head, and going outside and walking around but nothing helped. It makes it almost impossible to sleep when you know you're going to have trouble and when you're trying not to wake up the other people in your cabin. I didn't know how I was going to make it through the whole week.
The kids got there that morning and everything changed. I knew that even if I didn't sleep at all, I would make it through the week of camp. I was a counselor in a cabin with the youngest girls. We rounded them up and helped them get their luggage off the truck. They were so small trying to pull and carry their big bags and suitcases. Some of them had bald heads and some had hair; some of them were in treatment and some were survivors, but all of them either had or were experiencing something so scary that no child should ever have to experience.
Throughout the week, I got to know all of the girls in my cabin really well. One girl loved to read and was a really great artist; one loved to play sports and tried to act much older than she was; a few talked a lot and a couple were really quiet; one didn't like to touch the door because of all the germs; one girl hugged me before bed every night; another one was really homesick at the beginning of the week but fell in love with camp by the end of the week.
I got a little bit more sleep each night I was there. I told the counselors in my cabin that I would do polar bear swim, which is taking the campers to the pool at 7:00 a.m. for a 20 minute swim before breakfast. The young girls loved this, but the number who got up was dwindling by the day. Friday was the last day of polar bear swim and I was pretty exhausted from the week and we were trying to decide who would go to polar bear swim. I thought about trying to sleep a little later the next day since one of the other counselors said she would go because she hadn't gone all week. The camper who had been homesick earlier in the week came to me and asked me if I would take them because she wanted me to get in the pool with her. I said I would love to. That same camper had not been swimming earlier in the week because she had a central line in and didn't want to go through the trouble of getting it covered to swim, but we convinced her that it was no trouble. That Friday morning I woke the three girls up who wanted to go to polar bear swim and we went to medical to get her central line covered then headed to the pool. The water was cold but it was worth it to see the once homesick camper swimming, smiling, and splashing with the other girls, which she had not done earlier in the week. That was one of my favorite moments from camp.
I went to Towson Fest with my friend Jess from Salisbury, my friend Sarah from work, and a few others. Jess and I were walking around and I saw the camper who hugged me goodnight every night before bed on the other side of the street. It was the first time since camp that I saw one of my campers out in public. My group was all young girls so you don't really keep in touch with them. I sent them pictures after camp but that was it. I thought I was going to cry because I was so excited to see this camper. She didn't see me the first time I walked by her, so I told Jess we had to go back and walk towards her again so she would see me. She saw me that time and came up and gave me a big hug. She told me she would be at camp this summer and I told her I would be too.
The following day, I was grocery shopping in Giant when I looked up and saw the camper who was homesick on one of the Triple Winner posters in the store. I almost cried again and then I stopped to take a picture of it with my phone. Next time you're in the Giant checkout line, think about donating $1 for a Triple Winner scratch off because all the money goes to pediatric cancer research and you will most likely win something from Giant. I won a free sponge with my scratch off. And make sure you look at the signs because you will see my one of my campers and other pediatric oncology patients.
Seeing one camper in person and one on a sign has got me really excited for camp this year. It's being held in Annapolis this year and I know I'll get there and not sleep, but I'll stay and, again, it will be the best week of my summer and I know even if I'm anxious, it will be worth it because being a part of Camp Sunrise is something that is bigger than me.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
California
My ex-girlfriend, Lindsey, and I started dating in 2007 and we broke up in 2009; I was 24 when we met and 26 when she left. In those two years, I made my way to places I had not been able to drive to in years. I drove to BWI to pick Lindsey up from the airport, Ellicott City and Columbia for the first time in years, Crofton to see Holly's house, Elkridge for Holly's wedding, Annapolis to have dinner with Lindsey's best friend, over the Bay Bridge, and the weekend before we broke up to D.C. to hang out on Dupont Circle. These were triumphs for me, but to her they were simply small, frustrating steps.
Lindsey was great for my traveling because she really pushed me to go places. And I wanted to do things with her and go places because I loved her and I wanted to experience new things with her. If we had plans to go somewhere and I woke up and made excuses for why we shouldn't go, she told me we were going anyway and to stop making excuses. I will forever be grateful to her for that.
But, as much as she pushed me, she wasn't very understanding. She just couldn't get that part of me. It frustrated her almost as much as it frustrated and still frustrates me. Lindsey's family lives in California and she dreamed of the two of us starting a life together in San Francisco and spending holidays with her parents, brothers and their wives and children. I dreamed of that, too. She constantly reminded me that I was the only reason she was still in Maryland.
I knew how much Lindsey wanted to be in California, so we planned on spending Christmas 2009 with my family in Maryland and then moving to the west coast in January 2010. I told her if I couldn't make it, I still wanted her to go. I knew I wasn't going to be ready for that, but I hoped that the anxiety of her being so far away combined with home much I missed her would be enough to push me to go. She left me in early June 2009, so we never got to find out if it would have been enough.
For a long time after we broke up, I wondered if I didn't have any anxiety and if I would have moved to California with her the first year after we were together like she wanted to, if we would still be together. This is a question that haunted me for a long time, but it's also a question that can't be answered because that would mean I would be a different person.
When Lindsey left, I was more perpetually sad than I had ever been in my life. A big part of my anxiety is needing to be in control (needing to drive and not be a passenger, not using public transportation of any kind, etc.) and Lindsey leaving me took away all my control of my life. I loved her more than I ever thought I could love another person and she left me and there was nothing I could do about it. There was no amount of will or work that would bring her back to me. That was something I had a hard time grasping.
The months following her leaving me, I was anxious but I didn't have panic attacks all the time or anything. I just felt like I was existing somewhere right below the panic attack level; I was nowhere near calm. I stopped trying to travel anywhere. I just wanted to get through the day without being pushed to the panic attack level. I didn't care if I could drive to Ocean City or Philly or Salisbury or anywhere because I was alone and I didn't have anyone I wanted to travel for or with.
It's been almost two years since Linsey and I broke up and I now want to travel for myself so I don't miss my life. She and I saw each other for the first time since she left about a month ago. One thing she said to me was that she couldn't believe I didn't make it further while we were together. She doesn't think I will ever make it to California. One day, I'm going to go there with a beautiful woman and I'm going to call Lindsey just to let her know that I made it. One day...
Lindsey was great for my traveling because she really pushed me to go places. And I wanted to do things with her and go places because I loved her and I wanted to experience new things with her. If we had plans to go somewhere and I woke up and made excuses for why we shouldn't go, she told me we were going anyway and to stop making excuses. I will forever be grateful to her for that.
But, as much as she pushed me, she wasn't very understanding. She just couldn't get that part of me. It frustrated her almost as much as it frustrated and still frustrates me. Lindsey's family lives in California and she dreamed of the two of us starting a life together in San Francisco and spending holidays with her parents, brothers and their wives and children. I dreamed of that, too. She constantly reminded me that I was the only reason she was still in Maryland.
I knew how much Lindsey wanted to be in California, so we planned on spending Christmas 2009 with my family in Maryland and then moving to the west coast in January 2010. I told her if I couldn't make it, I still wanted her to go. I knew I wasn't going to be ready for that, but I hoped that the anxiety of her being so far away combined with home much I missed her would be enough to push me to go. She left me in early June 2009, so we never got to find out if it would have been enough.
For a long time after we broke up, I wondered if I didn't have any anxiety and if I would have moved to California with her the first year after we were together like she wanted to, if we would still be together. This is a question that haunted me for a long time, but it's also a question that can't be answered because that would mean I would be a different person.
When Lindsey left, I was more perpetually sad than I had ever been in my life. A big part of my anxiety is needing to be in control (needing to drive and not be a passenger, not using public transportation of any kind, etc.) and Lindsey leaving me took away all my control of my life. I loved her more than I ever thought I could love another person and she left me and there was nothing I could do about it. There was no amount of will or work that would bring her back to me. That was something I had a hard time grasping.
The months following her leaving me, I was anxious but I didn't have panic attacks all the time or anything. I just felt like I was existing somewhere right below the panic attack level; I was nowhere near calm. I stopped trying to travel anywhere. I just wanted to get through the day without being pushed to the panic attack level. I didn't care if I could drive to Ocean City or Philly or Salisbury or anywhere because I was alone and I didn't have anyone I wanted to travel for or with.
It's been almost two years since Linsey and I broke up and I now want to travel for myself so I don't miss my life. She and I saw each other for the first time since she left about a month ago. One thing she said to me was that she couldn't believe I didn't make it further while we were together. She doesn't think I will ever make it to California. One day, I'm going to go there with a beautiful woman and I'm going to call Lindsey just to let her know that I made it. One day...
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Spring and Summer Trips
I grew up going to Ocean City and the Delaware beaches, and I went to college in Salisbury, which is about 30 miles from the beach. I worked in Ocean City for three years while in college, and sometimes I drove to the beach from Salisbury during the off season to sit in the sand and write. The sound of the waves crashing always made me write better than if I were sitting at a Dunkin Donuts in Salisbury listening to people have conversation. The water was just enough to cover the silence but not distract me, sort of like having a fan on while you sleep. I haven't heard that sound or been on a beach or a boardwalk in almost six years. I hope to change that this summer. These are my specific traveling goals for this spring and summer:
I want to drive on Route 1 through Delaware with Gia and as soon as I get to the closest beach, I want to get out and let her see the ocean and run on the beach. I want to get in the water and sit in the sand.
Ocean City to eat at the Bayside Skillet and see if I know anyone working there, see the beach, walk on the boardwalk, and go on some water slides. Maybe Jolly Roger? Cindy, you in?
Rehoboth to eat at Nicola Pizza, have a few beers at the Frog Pond, and go to a gay store and buy some bumper stickers for my car.
Philadelphia to visit Cindy and Julie (if she's still there) and eat a cheesesteak and take a picture on that LOVE statue (for lack of a better word) that I've seen in pictures but not in real life.
Go on a flight to Philly with my dad when he buys the tickets.
Kent Manor Inn for brunch with Misty, which would mean going over the Bay Bridge.
Downtown Frederick to check out the shops with Erin and Gia.
I want to go to Annapolis and D.C. often so that these drives feel more like driving to Howard County does to me now. I have made it to these places, but I still hesitate when someone asks me to go to either; I don't want to do that anymore. I want to take Gia to the dog beach in Annapolis and spend a few weekends with Misty. In D.C., I want to hang out at DuPont Circle and go to Town and all the other gay bars I've heard of.
I would like to try the: lightrail, metro, bus, train, etc.
Any other suggestions for trips I should try or trips anyone wants to accompany me on?
I want to drive on Route 1 through Delaware with Gia and as soon as I get to the closest beach, I want to get out and let her see the ocean and run on the beach. I want to get in the water and sit in the sand.
Ocean City to eat at the Bayside Skillet and see if I know anyone working there, see the beach, walk on the boardwalk, and go on some water slides. Maybe Jolly Roger? Cindy, you in?
Rehoboth to eat at Nicola Pizza, have a few beers at the Frog Pond, and go to a gay store and buy some bumper stickers for my car.
Philadelphia to visit Cindy and Julie (if she's still there) and eat a cheesesteak and take a picture on that LOVE statue (for lack of a better word) that I've seen in pictures but not in real life.
Go on a flight to Philly with my dad when he buys the tickets.
Kent Manor Inn for brunch with Misty, which would mean going over the Bay Bridge.
Downtown Frederick to check out the shops with Erin and Gia.
I want to go to Annapolis and D.C. often so that these drives feel more like driving to Howard County does to me now. I have made it to these places, but I still hesitate when someone asks me to go to either; I don't want to do that anymore. I want to take Gia to the dog beach in Annapolis and spend a few weekends with Misty. In D.C., I want to hang out at DuPont Circle and go to Town and all the other gay bars I've heard of.
I would like to try the: lightrail, metro, bus, train, etc.
Any other suggestions for trips I should try or trips anyone wants to accompany me on?
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Match.com
I'm not embarrassed to admit that I was on match.com. It's hard for anyone to meet someone whether they are gay, straight or bi, but I do sometimes think it's harder to meet someone of the same sex because most people tend to spend their time around more straight people than gay people. I am one of those people, and most people also assume that I am straight. Because of these facts and because I'm sort of shy about approaching women, especially in a non-gay environment, I find it hard to meet people. I was recently given the advice that the best thing you can do it to put yourself out there into the world in every way that you can because you never know how and when you could possibly meet someone. I decided to do just that.
I joined match.com at the end of December for one month, which expired, and then I signed up for another month, which expired last week. While browsing match, I found that there were many attractive, educated girls with interesting stories, but all the ones I seemed to like lived in Virginia or Delaware or even further. I decided that I wouldn't let distance stop me from at least messaging with girls; I would decide if I liked them enough to meet them then figure out how.
At the beginning of February, I met a girl who lives in Arlington, VA. I knew I was going to like her before I met her, and that's exactly what happened. We met and connected and liked each other. The first time we met, she came to Baltimore, which is about an hour and a half drive from Arlington, and we had dinner then went out. Our first date lasted 24 hours and it was amazing. The next time we hung out, she drove to my apartment in Towson, which again took her about an hour and a half. She had driven to me twice and she wanted me to come to her the next weekend. I mapquested directions to Arlington, VA hourly for days. I kept changing the routes hoping something would look easy to me, but all I saw were bridges, tunnels, 495, and me having a panic attack. She kept asking me when I could be there because she wanted to make dinner reservations and find a museum for us to go to and figure out when we could meet up with her friends. The thought of all of this was just too much for me and made me not want to go, but I liked her and wanted to see her. But, that wasn't enough. I ended up telling her that driving to Arlington made me anxious and, even though she didn't understand, she told me she would come to me again that weekend. Something changed that weekend and she and I haven't seen each other since. I'm not sure if things would have been different if I could have driven to Arlington.
I met a few girls on match after Arlington girl, but I didn't feel a connection to any of them. My account has since expired and I'm taking an online dating break, but I have one more girl to meet. She works in D.C. and was living in the city, but is temporarily living in Maryland near College Park. She doesn't have a car and plans to move back to D.C. soon. I drove to College Park about a year ago for work, so I know I can make it there. I may get anxious, but I know I can do it. I've already mapquested it a few times and I know I will do all that I can to avoid 495 because that is one highway that makes my heart beat fast and my hands shake. She may borrow a car and meet me in the middle, but if not, I will drive to College Park to meet her because I think I'm going to like this one :)
I joined match.com at the end of December for one month, which expired, and then I signed up for another month, which expired last week. While browsing match, I found that there were many attractive, educated girls with interesting stories, but all the ones I seemed to like lived in Virginia or Delaware or even further. I decided that I wouldn't let distance stop me from at least messaging with girls; I would decide if I liked them enough to meet them then figure out how.
At the beginning of February, I met a girl who lives in Arlington, VA. I knew I was going to like her before I met her, and that's exactly what happened. We met and connected and liked each other. The first time we met, she came to Baltimore, which is about an hour and a half drive from Arlington, and we had dinner then went out. Our first date lasted 24 hours and it was amazing. The next time we hung out, she drove to my apartment in Towson, which again took her about an hour and a half. She had driven to me twice and she wanted me to come to her the next weekend. I mapquested directions to Arlington, VA hourly for days. I kept changing the routes hoping something would look easy to me, but all I saw were bridges, tunnels, 495, and me having a panic attack. She kept asking me when I could be there because she wanted to make dinner reservations and find a museum for us to go to and figure out when we could meet up with her friends. The thought of all of this was just too much for me and made me not want to go, but I liked her and wanted to see her. But, that wasn't enough. I ended up telling her that driving to Arlington made me anxious and, even though she didn't understand, she told me she would come to me again that weekend. Something changed that weekend and she and I haven't seen each other since. I'm not sure if things would have been different if I could have driven to Arlington.
I met a few girls on match after Arlington girl, but I didn't feel a connection to any of them. My account has since expired and I'm taking an online dating break, but I have one more girl to meet. She works in D.C. and was living in the city, but is temporarily living in Maryland near College Park. She doesn't have a car and plans to move back to D.C. soon. I drove to College Park about a year ago for work, so I know I can make it there. I may get anxious, but I know I can do it. I've already mapquested it a few times and I know I will do all that I can to avoid 495 because that is one highway that makes my heart beat fast and my hands shake. She may borrow a car and meet me in the middle, but if not, I will drive to College Park to meet her because I think I'm going to like this one :)
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Patient Refused Contrast
In November, I went to the GYN and she referred me to get an ultrasound because she suspected I had cysts on my ovaries. Thanksgiving was right around the corner then Christmas and finishing up my classes for the semester, so I decided to wait until the new year to get my ultrasound. I made an appointment in January and had my first ultrasound done. I actually remained very calm during the whole process. About two weeks later, I received a call from my doctor telling me that I lots of cysts or masses on one ovary and two large ones on the other, so she wanted me to get another ultrasound. After the second ultrasound, the smaller cysts had disappeared but the two large ones were still there. She told me I could go straight to surgery and have them removed because they were quite large or I could get an MRI; I went with the latter.
I was anxious about the MRI, but I knew it would be better than surgery. When I received the form in the mail from my doctor, I noticed that she had checked with and without contrast. I didn't know what that meant, so I googled it. I started reading all these terrible stories about things that the contrast did to people like vomiting and having to go to the hospital and arms being numb for extended periods of time, etc. All of this freaked me out. Besides not being able to drive far distances, another anxiety point for me is taking any kind of medicine or putting any substance into my body. I drank a little bit of Children's Motrin when I had one of my wisdom teeth removed, but that's the only medicine I've taken in about six years. A doctor prescribed me Lexapro when I was 22 and I had one of the worst panic attacks of my life, so I've avoided taking medicine since. I knew if I let someone inject dye into my veins, I would feel like I had no control of what it would do to my body and I wouldn't be able to get it it. But, I also knew that I should get the dye just in case the masses were tumors because it would help highlight them.
On the day of my appointment, I was anxious. I couldn't drink the calming tea I usually drank on anxious days because I was only supposed to have clear liquids. I made myself a cup with two teabags and took it in the car with me for after my appointment. My mom met me there. I know I'm 28 and shouldn't need my mom for something like an MRI, but I did and I do. It was pouring down rain, which made the 7 minute drive more like 12. I was a few minutes late. When I got there, my mom was sitting on a bench with all of her work stuff out prepared to be waiting for a while. I signed in and filled out all the forms except for the one that gave them permission to inject the contrast with all the possible risks, such as death. I hid that one under the others and didn't let my mom see that I didn't sign it.
A pretty girl with dark hair who was probably a year or two younger than me came out to get me. She asked me about 15 questions in less than a minute: Do I have anything metal in my body; do I have diabetes; is there any chance I am pregnant, etc...I can't remember most of them. I answered no to every single one. I handed her my paperwork and told her I hadn't signed the contrast form. She told me someone would come out to answer my questions. A man a few years older than me came out and asked me if I had any questions. I told him I wasn't comfortable with the contrast and he said I had the right to refuse it but it would not be a full study without it. I told him that I didn't think I could handle that today. He wrote really big on my file: "Patient Refused Contrast."
The girl came back to lead me into the room. The door had a caution sign on it because of the radiation; it was bigger than a normal door and it reminded me of the freezer and refrigerator doors at restaurants. It was wide and heavy. I always feared I would get trapped in the freezer at my old serving job, so I would put something in front of it to hold it open. The MRI door closed behind me.
My arms and legs were shaking a little bit as I got closer to the machine. The machine itself was also a lot bigger than I imagined. I felt like I was in an episode of "Little People Big World" because everything in the room seemed so much bigger than me. The girl asked me if I was going to be okay. I asked her if I could come out if I freaked out inside of the tube. She said all I had to do was squeeze the panic ball she gave me. I got up in the table and she positioned me right in the center. She pushed me into the tube gradually and gave me headphones to distract me from the noise. Finally, I was all the way inside the narrow tube listening to faint music through the headphones. My entire body was inside except for my feet dangling on the edge of the table. I wiggled my toes every few minutes just to reassure myself that I could still move; I tried to keep the rest of my body still so my dr. could see as much as possible without the contrast. I wished my head could have been out of the tube. The machine started making really loud noises and then would stop and the lady taking the pictures would say something to me like "You're doing great" or "it's about to get loud again."
I counted the songs I had listened to, counted backwards from 100 in my head, counted the small screws inside the tube and anything else I could make out to be an object. Counting has always decreased my anxiety because it takes my mind off of what's going on. There were a couple times in the tube when I thought I may have to squeeze the panic ball and get out, but I told myself to just hold on for one more song. And I did just that. I made it to the end and didn't have to come out. I was happy with myself that I made it through that but disappointed that I didn't have a full study and may still have to wonder what's really wrong. And my file will always say, "Patient Refused Constrast."
I was anxious about the MRI, but I knew it would be better than surgery. When I received the form in the mail from my doctor, I noticed that she had checked with and without contrast. I didn't know what that meant, so I googled it. I started reading all these terrible stories about things that the contrast did to people like vomiting and having to go to the hospital and arms being numb for extended periods of time, etc. All of this freaked me out. Besides not being able to drive far distances, another anxiety point for me is taking any kind of medicine or putting any substance into my body. I drank a little bit of Children's Motrin when I had one of my wisdom teeth removed, but that's the only medicine I've taken in about six years. A doctor prescribed me Lexapro when I was 22 and I had one of the worst panic attacks of my life, so I've avoided taking medicine since. I knew if I let someone inject dye into my veins, I would feel like I had no control of what it would do to my body and I wouldn't be able to get it it. But, I also knew that I should get the dye just in case the masses were tumors because it would help highlight them.
On the day of my appointment, I was anxious. I couldn't drink the calming tea I usually drank on anxious days because I was only supposed to have clear liquids. I made myself a cup with two teabags and took it in the car with me for after my appointment. My mom met me there. I know I'm 28 and shouldn't need my mom for something like an MRI, but I did and I do. It was pouring down rain, which made the 7 minute drive more like 12. I was a few minutes late. When I got there, my mom was sitting on a bench with all of her work stuff out prepared to be waiting for a while. I signed in and filled out all the forms except for the one that gave them permission to inject the contrast with all the possible risks, such as death. I hid that one under the others and didn't let my mom see that I didn't sign it.
A pretty girl with dark hair who was probably a year or two younger than me came out to get me. She asked me about 15 questions in less than a minute: Do I have anything metal in my body; do I have diabetes; is there any chance I am pregnant, etc...I can't remember most of them. I answered no to every single one. I handed her my paperwork and told her I hadn't signed the contrast form. She told me someone would come out to answer my questions. A man a few years older than me came out and asked me if I had any questions. I told him I wasn't comfortable with the contrast and he said I had the right to refuse it but it would not be a full study without it. I told him that I didn't think I could handle that today. He wrote really big on my file: "Patient Refused Contrast."
The girl came back to lead me into the room. The door had a caution sign on it because of the radiation; it was bigger than a normal door and it reminded me of the freezer and refrigerator doors at restaurants. It was wide and heavy. I always feared I would get trapped in the freezer at my old serving job, so I would put something in front of it to hold it open. The MRI door closed behind me.
My arms and legs were shaking a little bit as I got closer to the machine. The machine itself was also a lot bigger than I imagined. I felt like I was in an episode of "Little People Big World" because everything in the room seemed so much bigger than me. The girl asked me if I was going to be okay. I asked her if I could come out if I freaked out inside of the tube. She said all I had to do was squeeze the panic ball she gave me. I got up in the table and she positioned me right in the center. She pushed me into the tube gradually and gave me headphones to distract me from the noise. Finally, I was all the way inside the narrow tube listening to faint music through the headphones. My entire body was inside except for my feet dangling on the edge of the table. I wiggled my toes every few minutes just to reassure myself that I could still move; I tried to keep the rest of my body still so my dr. could see as much as possible without the contrast. I wished my head could have been out of the tube. The machine started making really loud noises and then would stop and the lady taking the pictures would say something to me like "You're doing great" or "it's about to get loud again."
I counted the songs I had listened to, counted backwards from 100 in my head, counted the small screws inside the tube and anything else I could make out to be an object. Counting has always decreased my anxiety because it takes my mind off of what's going on. There were a couple times in the tube when I thought I may have to squeeze the panic ball and get out, but I told myself to just hold on for one more song. And I did just that. I made it to the end and didn't have to come out. I was happy with myself that I made it through that but disappointed that I didn't have a full study and may still have to wonder what's really wrong. And my file will always say, "Patient Refused Constrast."
Monday, April 18, 2011
Little Background
Before I start blogging every day, I feel like I need to provide a little background information. Before I went to college, I could go anywhere and do anything; I didn't have anxiety about anything that I recall. One night during the summer between my freshman and sophomore years of college that all changed. I was about two and a half hours away from school and home when I had my first panic attack (which I didn't have words for until about four years later).
I was in the passenger seat of a car with Holly, a girl I thought I loved at the time, and all the sudden I couldn't concentrate on what she was saying. I felt far away from my bags at her house and my car and school and my home and even far from the Wal-Mart we were driving to. My thoughts were fuzzy and nothing seemed real. My heart started beating fast and when I looked down I could see it moving the skin on my chest. I tried to grab my thighs with my hands, but they were shaking too much to clutch anything. I kept blinking and shaking my head to try to focus my thoughts , but it didn't help. My whole body was shaking and pounding, my feet were sweating, and I couldn't think straight. I felt like I wasn't inside my head anymore.
That night was the beginning of a long road with my anxiety and agoraphobia. My arms started getting numb randomly, I started having panic attacks in classrooms, on highways, in crowded places, anytime I was too far from my car, if I wasn't driving, when I was alone, when I was far from school or home, etc...The list goes on. Soon after I started having these panic attacks, I realized what was causing them and began avoiding any situation that may cause me to have one. I dropped classes I couldn't sit in and because of that I graduated college late; I wouldn't be a passenger in a car with anyone; I didn't go to crowded places, drive on highways, or drive anywhere far from home. By the time I graduated college, I couldn't drive further than ten miles from my home. That was also when I decided that something needed to change.
I was in the passenger seat of a car with Holly, a girl I thought I loved at the time, and all the sudden I couldn't concentrate on what she was saying. I felt far away from my bags at her house and my car and school and my home and even far from the Wal-Mart we were driving to. My thoughts were fuzzy and nothing seemed real. My heart started beating fast and when I looked down I could see it moving the skin on my chest. I tried to grab my thighs with my hands, but they were shaking too much to clutch anything. I kept blinking and shaking my head to try to focus my thoughts , but it didn't help. My whole body was shaking and pounding, my feet were sweating, and I couldn't think straight. I felt like I wasn't inside my head anymore.
That night was the beginning of a long road with my anxiety and agoraphobia. My arms started getting numb randomly, I started having panic attacks in classrooms, on highways, in crowded places, anytime I was too far from my car, if I wasn't driving, when I was alone, when I was far from school or home, etc...The list goes on. Soon after I started having these panic attacks, I realized what was causing them and began avoiding any situation that may cause me to have one. I dropped classes I couldn't sit in and because of that I graduated college late; I wouldn't be a passenger in a car with anyone; I didn't go to crowded places, drive on highways, or drive anywhere far from home. By the time I graduated college, I couldn't drive further than ten miles from my home. That was also when I decided that something needed to change.
I started reading every book I could find on agoraphobia and anxiety and how to deal with the symptoms of both to try to get my life back. I was 22 years old when I started that journey. I tried medicine, therapy, acupuncture, hypnosis, EMDR, changing my diet, working out, etc. I spent any free time I had just driving as far as I could one way then turning around going as far as I could the other way. Driving was what helped me the most. Now, I'm 28 and still struggling. I'm doing pretty well with most of the situations I used to avoid besides being far from home. I can drive about an hour or sixty miles from home. That's not a lot considering I have been working on this for six years. I feel like I've missed out on so much in those years because I haven't been able to go places; but, I also know that this has really helped me appreciate the places I do make it to so much more than I did before.
I know that compared to many other situations people are in, I am incredibly lucky that this is the hardest thing I have to conquer. I am in no way trying to suggest that this is the worst life circumstance a person can be in, but it is such an internal struggle that it sometimes feels like there's no end in site. I know that's not true and that one day I will be able to travel anywhere I want to go.
I decided to start this blog for a few reasons: First, because I want to really start trying to go places and I want to hold myself accountable by having to blog about it. I will write about the attempts, avoidances, and successes. Secondly, I hope to be able to reach other people who are struggling with anxiety and/or agoraphobia to give them some hope that progress is possible. This isn't just my story; it's the story of so many people, and I think it needs to be told.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Forward to this Blog
I used to be able to look at a globe, spin it around and wherever my finger landed I could realistically tell myself that one day I would go there. Now I look at a map of Maryland, where I live, and I can only hope one day I will be able to travel to the far reaches of the state.
This is the story of how I went from believing I could go anywhere to believing I could go almost nowhere. It’s a story about how, when I was nineteen, my world began to shrink drastically. And how, when I was twenty-two, I vowed to fight against that shrinking, expanding my boundaries—and my life—day by day and literally mile by mile. And now, at twenty-eight, I'm still on that journey.
This is the story of how I went from believing I could go anywhere to believing I could go almost nowhere. It’s a story about how, when I was nineteen, my world began to shrink drastically. And how, when I was twenty-two, I vowed to fight against that shrinking, expanding my boundaries—and my life—day by day and literally mile by mile. And now, at twenty-eight, I'm still on that journey.
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