I will be strong. I will be happy. Life is not about perfection. It’s about getting through, picking yourself up, enjoying the moments and loving.
I started to journal when I was very young and I used to say, I only wrote when I was mad, sad, glad, or bad. I began this blog as a way of coping and venting, but it has become obvious to me that it is going to be more of a journal going forward, in learning and maybe re-learning how to live.
I’ve realised to some degree that there are triggers for the anxiety, there are many, many triggers. When the anxiety level is high, almost everything is a trigger. But there are some more obvious triggers than others. Looking back at today, I realise that some obvious ones are unfamiliar places, unfamiliar people, even familiar people whom I don’t know well, crowded places and places where a lot of people walk by and when I’m self-conscious or when I’m hot. I don’t deal with quick arrangements, I get stymied if someone says they are coming in a few hours or the next day and I don’t deal well with sudden changes.
I get uncomfortable very quickly by questions about the future, topics like fertility, breasts, death, disease, projections of people’s fears, especially fears for me. I get easily stressed if people are stressed, or if they are complaining or talking about negative topics. I noticed this around my Dad, who is wonderful for keeping me company, but varies from topics like his own age, how he will manage in time, to the stock market, to house upkeep. This makes me nervous and stressed, and it makes me feel perverse that I am young and yet have this.
I am calmer around calm environments, around people I know well and feel safe around. I am calmer when the light is not as gentle, when I am not rushed, when I am not asked a barrage of questions at one time. I am more comfortable in smaller, cozy spaces that are tactile and well-ventilated. I don’t like living in a large, empty house anymore, it makes me feel very insecure. I can’t manage and I don’t want to manage, I don’t think I will want to even if this is over.
So, from that perspective, I totally understand why I was short-circuiting through the week. First, probably the lack of sleep. But then also, these last few days was a rotation of people coming to visit and people I did not know well sending flowers. I hate getting flowers. Under normal circumstances, you would like getting flowers, and you would only comment if they were pretty or not. Right now, I am reacting negatively, particularly from people I do not know well, because they are a waste of money, I associate them with good things or bad things and this is not a good thing, so it accentuates for me that it is a bad thing that has happened and flowers die and then I associate them with condolences and funerals. None of this perhaps is logical or rational but that is where my mind goes to immediately. Two of my colleagues, Richard and Ken, had expressed compassion at my being sick (see previous entry), Richard had been teary which I immediately interpreted as fear, I was panicked. Dad had arranged lunch with a breast cancer foundation survivor and then cancelled my going at the last minute. My mind the whole day, had been like a still pool of water, into which rocks were being thrown.
When the anxiety starts to build, it is very obvious. I will look furrowed, I start to rock back and forth, or rub one hand against the other noticeably. I can’t concentrate or process what people are saying. They seem like they are talking behind a glass wall and I lose focus. You can hear me breathing, heavily. I may not be able to finish sentences coherently or will have lapses in memory. I don’t participate in conversation. I can’t sit through the 45 minutes for a meal, let alone several hours. My shoulders will start to hunch. This was the case when I went out with Suling, and when I got home, it calmed down tremendously. It didn’t happen when I went to Wing On Gardens with Zhan for coaching. It happened to a much smaller degree when I went to Nassim Hill Bakery with Elaine (more familiar person, routine and less crowded surrounding), although she noticed toward the end of the meal, I was starting to rock back and forth. It didn’t happen when I went to Weyren’s apartment, which was breezy and I could participate in the conversation.
The odd thing is, after that very stressful and ticking Friday, which had been preceded by many days of little sleep, Zhan insisted I take a Xanax at dinner. We were at Shenn and Daniel’s house for dinner, a place that I love, it has a beautiful clean and yet evocative aesthetic, is calm, it is right-sized, they have one lovely baby that I rocked to sleep. I was ok, anxiety level not low, but not screaming high as it was earlier in the day. Even then, I was having difficulty sitting still through dinner, the conversation was making me nervous, it was about breastfeeding, finance and Ebola, there was feta cheese in the starter. But there was also an entire discussion about Shenn’s bakery and franchising and I also remember little of that.
I was starting to fidget and wonder when we would go home. At 9pm, they suggested going out to get ice cream for the apple pie and I remember thinking, oh no, how long will that take and where will they go, I just wanted to leave. I took the Xanax over fruit and pie and I don’t know if it works so quickly, but I did relax - or was it because we had moved to the more cozier, less open and softer sofa area, because the topic had turned to Top Chef, and they were also clearly more relaxed? I was able to participate in conversation, talk normally. And then I slept from 12-7.30am.
I had a calm Saturday, I could read, I could read a prayer book about cancer (wow), I could talk to Weyren and Serene coherently over lunch and explain what I was feeling, although the anxiety kicked up a bit when we were out for breakfast (crowded place even though we sat outside, self-conscious etc). Then at about 5pm, while Lisa and Melissa were over, I noticed that oddly, I was not sad, I was not angry, I didn’t feel anything. Yes, I understood what had happened, but what’s the point, you can’t change anything. Just look forward and after this, we can go for a long holiday.
I caught myself thinking that. A holiday. Something I haven’t thought of in months, since maybe the first month. It is hard to say how weird this is, but in the last few months, I had abjectly been thinking first, a long flight sounds terrible, second, I don’t know that I could, third, without energy how does one enjoy traipsing place to place? But right at that moment, I actually felt like I could get on a plane. I could go back to work and do my job. Why not? And if not, find another job. I felt totally normal. I wasn’t anxious about anything.
I freaked out. I called Zhan. What is going on, is this an anti-depressant? It must be very powerful (it’s meant to be mild, apparently). Why do I feel this way, why do I not feel sad. Why do I feel invincible, reckless? He told me there was no way the effect was there after 24 hours and that it was because people don’t feel doom and gloom all the time. You feel normal because this is how you normally are. Do you feel positive, he asked me? No, I replied, not positive. Then, it’s fine, he said.
I realise being at home, in these last few months, hasn’t helped me. It’s trained me to think of only certain places as safe and it will make the transition worse. Maybe going out and staying out for a few hours every day, will help me. Going out to public places may not be the best idea, or feel very natural, but maybe I could go to people’s houses.
