Jealousy-Part 1

Jealousy is a strange thing.  I have never really considered myself jealous...envious maybe but not jealous.  But it hit today with a vengeance.  With the main man in my life...Boo Radley the 100lb lab.

He has a girlfriend....a 13 year German Shepard named Sheba (she's deaf, blind and a little-mannish).  Her mom and dad are summer residents in the Hundred Acre Woods.  She's not what I would have picked for him....I would have picked a fluffy Golden Retriever or a Yellow Lab....someone a touch more girly.  But when he walks down her road....he struts...it's like he's making a turn at Westminster.  His head is held high, his chest puffed out....he gives a smart little bark when he sees her and whines when he doesn't. 

Today he was bound and determined to go for a walk....he stopped by his shelf and picked up a bandanna....he likes to look his best.  I put back the Halloween Spider theme and convinced him that Eggs and Bunnies was definitely the way to go....spritzed him behind the ears with some Mutt Mist.  And off we went. 

We didn't even go near Sheba's....he left the Hundred Acre Woods and turned right.  Down the road we went until we stopped at a driveway.....he stopped dead in his tracks.  Sometimes my dear sweet dog has the personality of an angel...other times he's stubborn as a mule and grouchy as Walter Matthieu in Dennis the Menace.  He's not a big fan of strangers and is very territorial so I couldn't believe he was stopping at a strangers house.  But apparently it wasn't a strange house.

He barrelled up the driveway...you try controlling a 100lb dog on a leash.  The door opened and this girl came bounding out.  I took the leash off Rad since he was determined to visit with her...I braced myself for the inevitable ferocious barking but........this girl sat down and said "oh Radley, you've come again".  Not exaggerating here.  I walked up and introduced myself.....her name is Oksana.  She's from the Ukraine.  She's met Rad walking my brother before.  Radley is all over her....she's oohing and ahhhing.  Talking about his bloodlines, his bone structure, the color of his fur, the "pure beauty that is he"  (she totally said that...because I can assure you I wouldn't).  I decided that I had had enough of this and told Radley that is was time to go...he turned and snapped his teeth at me (the universal signal for shut up).  He throws his paws on her shoulders and gives her a big wet lick right across the mouth.  At this point I couldn't stand it.....I was so green with JEALOUSY over my freaking dog that I did what any red-blooded girl would do. 

I said he may have good bloodlines and fur but he still eats....

cat shit. 

That put a damper on her kissing parade.  I drug Rad down the driveway....he looked over his shoulder the entire time...whining.  It was a scene.

Jealous.....over a dog.  We aren't going that way again.

Musings and Ponderings

I've been struggling recently with why I've had to lose my best friend of 10 years to another woman (the friend is a guy).  They are engaged.  He's kept it a secret from me for 3 years.  His claim....I never asked so he didn't tell.  Interesting, huh??  I've questioned all that I've done for him through the years....I swore no love interest would come above him in my life because look at all we had been thru together.  But indeed...a "she" came between us.  A "she" with baggage.  A "she" that he has no plans to introduce me too.  He's started a new life...a life that doesn't involve talking to me everyday or being concerned with my life.  It hurts because deep down I thought he was "the one"...he just didn't realize it yet.  It occured to me today that maybe He has moved "him" out of my life to make room for a forever best friend.  Maybe I shouldn't look at it as an ending but more as a beginning.....yet remembering the memories. 

I want to know that I'm going to be somebody's choice.  I'd like to know when I'm going to be somebody's choice. 

Everyday starts and ends the same.  I need to accept it, stop hoping for something more.

When will I get my "happily ever after".......

Warning TMI Alert!!

"I am profoundly and irreversibly screwed up"....Runaway Bride

So this may be my last post about the weird things that panic does to you....for awhile...or at least till I get some new hangups.  I have a thing with my temperature.  I feel like my temperature is important to be checked.  Now I haven't had a temperature in years but I carry a thermometer in my purse...can't explain it....don't know why.  I used to check my temp 4 or 5 times a day..always normal...unlike me.  :)  But since I've become slightly more stable....I don't check it.  Haven't checked it in months.  Weird, huh???  If I ever had to empty my purse at a security checkpoint I would probably be arrested.  And then there is the poop......now I know when you all read this on FB...this is really going to make you say...."this girl has totally lost her freaking mind" but I read somewhere recently that if you can't laugh at your own crazy messed up s***, what can you laugh at.  So feel free to laugh...it's funny.  I laugh.  Under times of extreme stress...I become obsessed with my poop.  Size, shape, frequency, color....you name it.  If it's floating I'm convinced my gallbladder is going to burst....if it's not floating, my iron is low.  I tortured my family for months to look at my "production" if you will......you would have thought that this would have clued them in that my "cheese was sliding off my cracker" but no they looked and assured me that "while I was gross it was fine".  I've been known to take a picture or two and send it to my best friend to see if she thinks it looks all right....goodness knows that girl needs the "best friend in the world" award.  And you wouldn't believe what happened after I ate the Incredible Hulk cupcakes with black and LIME GREEN icing at a little cousins birthday......I almost went to the emergency room because I thought I had worms.  WARNING:  artificial colorings make everything colored.  So anyway...panic gives you great little hangups that would make me a star on those TLC shows called "Extreme Obsessions" and "Extreme Addictions"...but the good news is that I now know that this behavior, while incredibly wacky, is just how I deal with stress.  BTW, poop problem is virtually gone.  I was "set up" once with a guy with panic disorder....you would have thought we would have been a match made in crazy paradise....but no.  While I am perfectly fine posting on FB that I'm obsessed with my poop...he wouldn't admit to his hang-ups.  We texted for several weeks and were going to meet until IT happened.  I stumbled on his hangup by accident......he had been sick for several days...so I simply made a comment that I would have made to anyone.  I said "You should probably go to the doctor, if you have strep throat you could die"...ok, so it was probably a touch dramatic...but please.  Well.......guess what.. he was paranoid of death.  He changed his numbers and I never heard from him again.  And then I went to the panic/depression/anxiety/ocd/emotional disorder support group/dating event.....MMMMMEEERRRCCCCCYYYYYY!!!  I just thought I had problems...I came out of that mess feeling like a brand new woman.  For the most part...people can't see my hangups and for that I'm grateful.  They used to bother me, but like my condition.,....it's a part of me....I can't change it but I can accept it.  I read a billboard today about bullying....it said "same kind of different as me"....I like that.  That's me.  Different.

Perpetual Panic

Ok...so when I left off I was telling you how I have a meltdown in WalMart.  Which by the way I'm thinking of using the last post as my "intro" on match.com....cause if I can find a man to go to WalMart with me then I've got a keeper for sure.  So here's a couple of tips if you meet a "Paniker" down the road in life......

Things not to say:
1.  Never say "just calm down".....guess what, if I could calm down I wouldn't have a panic disorder to begin with.  Best thing to do is lend a hand to hold onto....I imagine it's sort of like labor....I hold your hand to transfer the feelings to you!!  Work on crowd control if it happens it public...the last thing a "Paniker" wants is to have attention drawn to themselves.

Things not to do:
1.  Don't treat a "Paniker" like they are fragile or mentally incompetent...like my mother tends to do.  I swear the woman thinks I can't handle seeing a dead squirrel on the road.  And if I have an upheaval in my life...watch out...here comes a whole new wardrobe.  Which does have it perks.

What the Doctors say to do:
"Panikers" are supposed to embrace the panic and just "go with it".  Easy to say when you are sweating like a lumberjack and hyperventilating on aisle 16 in Walmart.  Allegedly the more you fight the panic...the worse it becomes.  It's true, I guess, now I just take a seat...grab my trusty brown bag from my purse to breathe in...and hold on for the ride.  It will never go away...it's with me till I die...it may get better at times...worse at others.  Sometimes I have something that will trigger an attack and I can feel it coming....other times....no warnings....just boom....I've popped my cork.  Like today for instance...at Kress Emporium...shopping, humming, and bam....cork is popped.  Thankfully in downtown Asheville my eccentricities are not really noticeable. 

So Panic has changed my life....it's basically the "flight or fight" mechanism working at the wrong time.  You know if you were to be chased by a bear you would have the same symptoms I have if I were to go to WalMart.  Or being robbed at the bank.   Oddly enough...being robbed at the bank never bothered me...go figure. 

There has been a lot of research if Panic is hereditary or learned behavior....they say it runs in families.  Now my family doesn't talk about it so I don't know if that's how it works....but some people handle it in other ways...like alcoholism (my family) or drug use (my family) or just nervousness.  And some people suffer silently....depression plays into it heavily.  Sometimes it's just family dysfunction....check!!  It's also thought that people with Panic have less endorphin activity  Sometimes it is just a learned personality trait:  analytical worriers who dwell on things and obsess about their fears.  They want things to be a certain way and have very high expectations.  When things go wrong...they get upset.  Winning the approval of others is very important and at all costs they must appear to be in control.  They tend to overreact.  Now if you know me at all...this is my personality.  Anxiety and Panic are emotional disorders rather than mental disorders....with obsessive thoughts rather than obsessive behaviors.  Rather it's learned or hereditary...it has me thinking of the prissy little rhinestone wearing, pink patent leather shoe wearing, girly-girl baby that I've always wanted.  Do I run the risk of passing down something so scary and life-altering to another.  Something to think about......along with all the other thousands of crazy thoughts.  FYI....don't bring artificial flowers to my funeral.  Especially ones in shapes of phones that say "Jesus Called...and Angie answered"....that's a big fear I have.  I also consult WebMd daily...today it's ovarian cancer.  Well, enough fun for today....till next time.

The Panic Continues....

Ok, so when I last left off I had been diagnosed with a Panic Anxiety Disorder.  So I "took" 3 months off from work...conveniently my father had some kind of random injury so my mom told extended family that I was taking care of him....Right.  Guess what, extended family....he was taking care of me.  I had a nice assortment of pills and I couldn't be left alone.  I spent those 3 months making alternating trips between the Christian counselor, who tried to convince me it wasn't God's fault, and to my psychiatrist, who tried to convince me it wasn't entirely my families fault.  Good times, those were.  Basically I was born this way.  But there are certain circumstances in my immediate family that made it worse.  For example, my mother had children 13 years apart....one of us was a mistake..the other a blessing.  Depending on who you ask depends on whom is whom.  But my brother and I couldn't be more different (other than we both suffer from mental illness)....he is an artist....took him 7 years to graduate college...and marches to the tune of his own drum....he doesn't care what my parents think..never has..never will.  Does whatever he wants...and thinks his way is the only way.  I am not an artist.  I am practical and conservative.  My parents expected perfection from me...straight As, finish college in 4 years at the top of my class...have the perfect job...look a certain way....key word is PERFECT.  I tried to be perfect...and when I couldn't do it any longer I snapped.  :) 
So anyway.....enough of my brother and my parents.  They can air their own dirty laundry.  But guess what all happens to you with a panic disorder.....basically you create turmoil within your body.  As a result of being tied in knots all the time.....I'm the proud owner of Irritable Bowel Syndrome, Spastic Colon, Lactose Intolerance and Gluten Sensitivity.  My intestines are not my friend.  I have more hang-ups than a ton of teenage girls at a slumber party....I'm obsessed with germs.  I'm terrified of getting sick...particularly vomiting.  When I go to the doctor, I wait in the car until they call me and tell me it's my turn, because inevitably I'm going to sit down and the one person puking and bleeding will walk past 20 seats to scrooch up to me.  I have more bottles of hand sanitizer in my purse than Johnson & Johnson produces each year.  I worry about eating food in restaurants....I'm afraid I'm going to get food poisoning.  Like deathly afraid.  I have a hard time eating food in the dark ( I know what you are thinking...when would I ever eat food in the dark)...last week I went to that movie theater at Biltmore Square where you and eat and watch the movie....got freaked out because I couldn't tell if my food was cooked.  Have an issue with Wal-Mart....I mean it's a guaranteed panic attack waiting to happen.....my doctor says its the flourescent light.  I have lots of "what if" thoughts.....like "what if" I don't pass this stupid Life Insurance test, or "what if" I die and someone brings fake flowers to my funeral.  Half of my day is filled with "what ifs".  I'm scared to go to extended family members houses....what if I have an attack in front of them....you get the picture.  Now for my last tidbit of info.....what does a panic attack feel like......hmmmmm......how should I describe it....other than you think you are dying, you wish you were dying so it would stop, and not knowing what is going on even though you know you have a panic disorder. 

Here's a "normal attack" for me:
Sweating like crazy....I'm talking...hair soaking wet sweating.
My fingers going numb.  A crushing pain in my chest.  Stomach cramps that lead to diarrhea or gas.  Racing heart.  Dizziness and lightheadedness.  Feelings of unreality.  Scary, uncontrollable thoughts.  My toes go numb.  Hyperventilating.  Uncontrollable bouts of anger or tears.  Lots and lots of tears.  Uncontrollable thirst.  I need to be outside away from people ASAP.  I scratch at my skin until I bleed.  I pull out my hair.

So, who wants to go to Wal-Mart with me.......to be continued.

Tales from the Panic Room (part 1)

I think my story truly begins during winter term between Junior and Senior year at college....suddenly I developed insomnia....but only at school.  When I came home, I slept like a baby.  But back at school wide awake.  I went to the doctor on campus and he said this "was normal" for upcoming seniors...a little pre-life anxiety...he prescribed me a mild anxiety medicine.  Put me right to sleep.  Graduated.  Came home.  Got a job at the bank.  Never took the medicine again.  Life was good. 

Until April 2006....I had just been audited at the bank by a particulary tough and mean auditor.  I had to defend myself.  When it was over....I remember the feeling.  I'll never forget it.  That's when it happened.  When the panic crept in.  I was eating some sour cream and onion potato chips and all of a sudden the hair on my arms and the back of neck stood on end....the strangest feeling went thru my body.  Immediately a knot formed in my stomach. A knot that had me double over with pain. 

The pain continued.  I started a vicious cycle of visiting doctors.  They could never find anything wrong.  They put me on another mild anxiety medication.  But then worse things began to happen.  Chest pains.  Nightmares.  Scratching my skin until I bled.  Repetitive thoughts.  The feeling of being outside my body looking in.  My muscles would tense up until the point where my fingers and toes would go numb.  Sometimes it felt like the walls in my room were closing in on me.  I would have to go outside, in the middle of the night, to try to breathe.  I was a frequent visitor at the emergency room.  I was convinced it was a heart attack, cancer....or worse I was losing my mind.  The truly interesting part is that I kept all of this a secret from my family and my friends.  I couldn't concentrate.  Could barely sit still.  One Christmas I sat through the usual present opening rituals like a robot...afraid to move or say anything....afraid the slightest move would clue my family in that something was wrong.  I still don't remember what I got for Christmas that year.  For 2 years I kept my pain and suffering a secret....for 2 years I was silent.  But I was hanging on the edge...and I had no idea that as hard as the past 2 years were...the next 2 years to come would be worse.  Because then I would be facing my fears.

September 2008....I suffered a major breakdown at work.  I couldn't stop crying.  I hadn't ate in 2 weeks.  I had diarrhea.  My skin hurt to touch.  I called my best friend and told her I needed help.  I went to the doctor and got a recommendation for a psychiatrist the next day.  I also had strep throat.  I was heavily medicated that night.   The general md gave me a diagnosis but said the psychiatrist would confirm.  He did.  The next day I learned I had a Panic Disorder DSMIV Code 300.01 (Depression, Anxiety and Panic).  My life immediately changed.

The good news...people with anxiety have above average intelligence.  They are highly creative with a fabulous imagination.  They are detail-oriented and analytical.  They are full of potential for greatness.  Unfortunately, people with anxiety disorders tend to use their attributes to scare themselves.  They overintellectualize, overanalyze, and use their creativity to envision the worse possible scenarios.  Their wonderful traits make them very sick.

Well...this is enough of the story for today.  Especially since I'm doing what my mother fears most in the world...I'm coming out with my families dirty secret.  I'm telling the world that I'm sick.  She didn't want my extended family to know.  But you know what.....God made me this way for a reason.  And somewhere out here in internet land there may be another person struggling with the unknown.  And I want them to know that while it's very very hard....it can be conquered. 

Pretty Face

So I loathe the grocery store.  I will do anything to get out of going.  I either go at 7 in the morning or 10 at night.  It's bad when you live in the town you grew up in, went to school in, came back to after college and work in.  The song "Famous in a Small Town" by Miranda Lambert comes to mind.  Working at the bank makes you a celebrity.  Go ahead and laugh but until you've experienced it...you have no idea.  People feel like they have to speak to you...or worse...have long drawn out conversations.  Or even better, tell you they'll make that deposit just as soon as they can....because of course you have their account history memorized.  Or they'll ask you about their debit card...the list goes on.  Well, when I left the bank...it created an even larger scandal because now everyone wants to know the "Real Reason" I left the bank.  This leads me to today.....I womaned up and went to the grocery at high noon.  As I was perusing the aisles sipping my tall soy white chocolate mocha I ran into a former customer.  She's the epitome of a southern belle...dripping in jewelry and put together at all times.  So at first I did what every red blooded girl would do....grabbed my buggy and took off to a different aisle.  But like a birddog she found me.  Good news...she didn't want to discuss the bank.  She said "Oh, Angela.....so good to see you."  I said it was good to see her.  She said she missed me at the bank to which I responded that I missed my customers tremendously.  Then she touched my hair....and said "You have such a pretty face...it's a shame you carry all that extra weight around".  And I said.....thank you.  Are you listening...this lady called me fat in front of God and half of Black Mountain and I THANKED her.  In a blink of an eye she was gone....and I was left standing there in canned goods stunned.  So my boycott on grocery stores continues.....off to the baked goods I went......doughnut, anyone????

Leap of Faith....the day after Leap Year (day)!!

As long as I can remember, I haven't really liked change and it got worse when I was diagnosed with a panic disorder.  I preferred to be unhappy or uncomfortable in routine rather than try something new because I was scared or didn't know the outcome.  My job, at the bank, stopped being interesting or challenging.  I stuck it out because I loved my co-workers, customers and the organization-even though it didn't love me.  I was afraid of starting a new career at entry level pay.  I put on a happy face, smiled and pretended like I didn't give a rip.  One day in September I reached the breaking point.  I felt like I was suffocating.  I sat in my car and cried for an hour at lunch.  I realized how deeply unhappy I was at work.  I went and talked to my mom....the pragmatist-who-loves-stability.....she said 3 words that surprised me....you should quit!!  WHAT???  I don't have a job, or savings.  I need health insurance.  But what the hell...you only live once....and I want to live life happy.  An hour later I resigned.  I was thrilled, I felt giddy and able to breathe again.  4 hours later my banking career was over.
Now don't get me wrong....it's been a hard 6 months.  I've been working 2 part time jobs which I love , but the money is not spectacular.  I've learned to live life with less: which says a lot about this jewelry loving, book reading, Dansko-addicted girl.  I've bartered for hair cuts and nails.  I've watched cats and dogs.  I've balanced checkbooks.  I've sold my cherished seasonal decorations that I used to use at the bank because I wanted to start over and they reminded me of sadder times.  I've volunteered at Manna Food Bank, Brother Wolf Animal Rescue and at a local nursing home. I spent alot of time with my mom.  It's been hard dealing with my medications but my doctors and an amazing pharmacy here in town have managed to help me get the meds I need.   I've learned alot about myself and what I want in a future employer/job.  Honestly, I never actually applied for a new job.  I had the faith that the "right" job would find me.  And it did.....I start March 12th...so I'll have to let you know if it's the job for me.  I'm going into the insurance field.  A former customer and a past co-worker of mine gave me wonderful referrals.  I'm super excited but extremely scared....I started at the bank right out of college...it is all I know.  But "life goes on"......and my leap begins March 12th.