The Good Bad Good Day

Today started out great. Early up by 6, the dogs whining had begun. Every morning like clockwork, my older dog Pippa comes to see me at 545 and begins her slow whine. Who needs an alarm? Let the dogs out, fed them and got myself ready for work. It’s the one day I actually go into the office. I always look forward to leaving the house.

So the day at work was quiet like they are these pandemic days. Only 3 people in our section and no students currently , so very empty.

Our office sits at the end of a hallway and most days I see only one or two people not counting the temperature scanner at the access door. I always have work to do and today was no exception. As I made my way through a variety of tasks the day was going good. Heated up my lean cuisine for lunch and was munching on my nuts and cherries and feeling productive.

About 2 pm, I am standing at the copier and all of a sudden I feel light headed and thought I was going to pass out. It was the most surreal feeling. I finished what I was doing and went back to my desk and sat down and tried to analyze what happened that made me feel that way while standing at the copier.

So… I am an over thinker extraordinary, so I spent the next 2.5 hours freaking out. I was a googling fool. Is lightheadedness a sign of Covid? Am
I short of breath? Use your inhaler that will help, Tell someone,
Call someone, Drive to the hospital yourself, Convince yourself you are out of breath, Walk up to the parking lot (there is a flight of stairs) be out of breath, get in the car, start it up, pick a crime podcast and calm the f*** down. Drive home, trying to decide if I should go to the hospital, walk in the house and see Marc and Nadia, trying desperately to act normal or at least like myself. The news is on, more anxiety, walk Nadia home, but we must jump in the snow on the way back and then she wants to dig out her scooter, finally I get her home and make my way back, come inside shut the door and break down. I am in my domain now, home. Marc hands me a glass of sangria, drink he says it will calm you down. I begin to cry. That’s the bad part.

As I sit on the couch fighting my way out of the tunnel I have been in for the last few hours and sipping my Sangria I begin to emerge from the fog. I have not had one of these for a very long time. A full out panic attack. Triggered by a slight dizziness and manifested by my overthinking mind. This is the Bad.

This is what I have allowed COVID/News/Politics to do to me. Push me to the brink of control. Or loss of control. But now I have regrouped and am ready to begin again. I do however long to spend a weekend in a room with no TV, no media, just relaxation.

I know I am not alone in the panic attack world, and to those who go through these to the point of paralyzation and far more frequently than I do I give you praise. You are warriors.

As I emerged from this fog, I am physically exhausted, my hands hurt, my body aches and and I am grateful to see clearly to the light at the end of the tunnel.

There is so much hurt in our world at the moment and it pushed me to break. I know that is what happened and I know when to step back and take a break from too much media, too much pandemic, too much reality. So tonight.. I laugh, I drink, I relax and tomorrow is a new day. I got this.

and Marc, thanks for the Sangria. This is Good.

Until Next Time,