Last week right around this exact moment, I was on my way to the middle of Missouri for a getaway with my angel of a daughter. I was excited for the mini adventure I knew was waiting for us because no matter what we did or where we ended up, it would be the sweetest. I was smiling from the inside out and felt warm to the core of my soul while that sun paved the way for the two hour drive through the hills to our weekend. Led Zeppelin's greatest hits was on the rotation shuffle of my iPod and I felt entirely peaceful and happy. Music is a soul speaker, a brain picker, a memory shaker, and a feeling pusher. It's a time warp that throws us back to places in the past or nudges us forward to futures we love to see. It can be a brain dancer for anyone but for deep thinkers, it's a brain spinner and so maybe that's how it happened.
Panic
An instant flash of dizziness went through my head. At 75 mph on crazy highway 70 in Missouri, that wasn't good. It was not the place and not the time. I was in my car with semis on two sides of me and a car on my ass. What could I do? I knew exactly what that flash of dizziness meant and I was not welcoming it. It was all too familiar, all too unwanted, all too hated and haunted, and all too feared. No...Not this, not now. Why? Stop...just stop...please, just stop.
It didn't stop.
The heat of panic traveled from my head to the ends of my toes. My heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest. I felt like I was going to throw up and pass out. I felt exactly like I was suffocating. Caylin was only just a car in front of me but she felt so far away. I was alone. If it kept going, I was going to faint. It happened before and it was my biggest fear, especially on highway 70, in a car, at this speed. I had to stop it. I told myself out loud to breathe. I had to stop hyperventilating. If I could do that, I would be okay. "Don't stop breathing...Count...Slowly. Count...just do it, Sher, just do it. Relax. Calm. Feel peace. You're fine. Breathe. Count. You've blacked out from this before, you cannot do it now, not here God damnit...COUNT!" None of my tricks were working. I was cold but I was sweating and I was shaking so badly. I grabbed my phone and voice texted Caylin. "I'm having a panic attack. I have to pull over." She called. I slowed down and let everyone racing past me disappear into the distance. Hearing Caylin's voice threw a hard calm into what was happening. I couldn't see her ahead of me anymore but I knew she was still there. She told me she'd pull over with me until I felt okay. Talking out loud to her somehow made the dizziness stop. I couldn't control the shakiness yet but the panicky heat was leaving; I could feel it. That was familiar too, and I knew that I would be okay.
Last weekend turned out to be one of the best weekends I've ever had. The first half of the day after all of that happened I felt a little off but it did subside and it did go away. as I sat by a fire riverside with two of the people I love the most. The residual of a panic attack is kind of like a hang over that fades. For years I had them on a regular basis and then they mostly went away. I've learned about triggers. I've read and searched for ways to prevent them, handle them when they happen, and feel better again once they're gone. Mostly I think a lot about why I am who I am and what even brought me to this kind of point. My mind never seems like it shuts down anyway, and these just fuel the thought fire more. Since panic is a feeling that's returned more often than not over the past year, I've taken some intentional steps and tried making changes to be a person who helps herself. Attacks always put me right back at square one with thoughts and feelings and evaluating what in the hell I'm doing. It puts my deep thinking focus on creating a good plan.
I stuck with my passion
I went to college for seven total years and worked in the field for barely two. I've beat myself up and kicked my own ass over and over again for spending so much time and money on something I have zero-times-infinity interest in doing now. I can't go back and change that so I've settled on the good things that came from that experience. I loved my art classes and I loved acing every single paper I ever wrote. I love that a handful of professors made lasting impressions on my life, and I love that I can use some things they taught me every single day and... that is the end of that. Before I started school, the entire time I went, and after I graduated I worked for one of the biggest three cosmetic and skin care companies in the world. I loved the people, the education, the clients and the perks. I didn't love the schedule. Perfect opportunities don't literally fall into my lap very often but late last summer one did exactly that. Our of nowhere, I was presented with an opportunity to become part of team working for a doctor and his wife in a growing practice, continuing to work with cosmetics and skin care. I could not have asked for better bosses, more fun co-workers, a better schedule, or better perks. My passion is the same thing today as it was 17 years ago and I stuck with it, while I guess just adding a layer of fluff.
I joined a gym
I belonged to a gym after I had Caylin. I did it because her dad did it, and because I was gung-ho about staying thin after having a baby. I liked it alright for a while but it didn't take long before I loathed the place. To make a very long story short, the gym ended up representing meat-heads, arrogance, cheating, bad, sweaty humid smells, and probably the most annoying association with a breakup that I ever had. I steered clear for years afterwards and wanted to vomit at the thought of joining another. All these years later I guess, something just changed. Last summer, I started walking every night in an area at the back of my neighborhood that mapped out to be between a mile or two. There are a set of cozy, tree-filled cul-de-sac streets that smell like amazing pine trees and some kind of random berry. I was only gone for 15 to 20 minutes each night but those walks became what I looked forward to at the end of every day. I was staying in shape, I was hanging out with the trees, the birds, the crickets and nature, and I really just loved it. I was on a roll and set in a routine and then the warm nights started getting cold. I layered a few times but it wasn't my favorite kind of night anymore. I'm a baby about being cold. I get winter depression like nobody's business but walking became a habit that I didn't want to quit. A friend mentioned joining a gym in a neighboring town. She raved about the decent cost and the very low meathead factor so I bit the bullet and I called. It was time to get over my issues with the places because in a way I was punishing myself. Why? It was so stupid.
The next day I joined, and I've gone most nights every week since. I speed walk a treadmill, I ride a bike, I tone my legs on weight machines, I do rounds of Dylan's favorite things, and then I sit my happy ass in a massage chair for ten minutes. I've never had a run-in with a meathead. I've never felt uncomfortable. I see a few friends I know. I do my thing. I mind my business. And I come home to the best sleep I usually ever get. I'm not a gym buff, I'm not hardcore, and I'm not Miss diet and fitness America.
I'm relieving stress, staying toned, staying healthy, and feeling good about that. It started in October and I don't have an end date. Possibilities are infinite.
I changed the way I eat
I'm a sucker for a good burger, anything cheesy, Imos pepperoni and bacon pizza, most kinds of fried chicken, and anything chocolate...but with every single thing in life; moderation is key, and I am mastering it. Skinny isn't always skinny forever, cellulite isn't just something only other people can get, having a high metabolism isn't something guaranteed for life, and I have to take care of what's on the inside to preserve what's on the outside. I can't burn 500 calories exercising if I'm only going to add 1200 by eating solid junk. My stomach feels better, I have less headaches, and I have more energy. Good equals good.
I diffuse essential oils
The power of doing this is highly underestimated. I'm not talking about the ones you can buy for a few dollars at the store...I'm talking about legit, pure essential oils. It's not a trend or a fad, it's a pretty amazing alternative for customizing the smell of any area you're making yourself comfortable in. The blends of pure oils have proven positive effects on allergies, illnesses and mood. They can be a little pricey initially but not in the long run. I will say it helps that I can buy mine from someone who gets them at cost so if you can do that, you'll be set. Truth be told; they're far less expensive, healthier, and just as good smelling as any candle you can buy that burns and is gone before you know it. Two to four drops of each oil in an amazing recipe of combinations that diffuse for up to six hours at a time are more than worth it. If I could suggest a few basics to begin with... Lemongrass, Bergamot, Lavender, Ylang Ylang, Citrus Bliss, and a blend called Passion. My favorite to wear as perfume is Whisper and my favorite brand is doTERRA. Hit up Pinterest for blend suggestions and you'll be on your happy way to a whole new world of amazing smells.
I became a player of the blocking game
This was difficult for me. It's immature, ignorant, very mean, and really just asinine. Unfortunately, it's also sometimes necessary, which I found out the airhead hard way. Social media is a circus. It's a platform for bullshit and a general collective stage to put best faces forward, whether real or masked. It's a place where impressing others matters way too much. It's an internet space that a tremendous amount of time is spent carefully crafting perfect friendships, relationships, families, careers and lifestyles for everyone else's convincing. Perception is reality and insecurity manifests more need for that kind of convincing than anything else. It's also the very biggest breeding ground for stalking, snooping, and creeping.
I have a sassy mouth when I am hurt and I talk a big game with it, but any person who knows me at all knows I do not have one single mean bone in my body. It's just not in me and it's not how I am wired at all. That is why blocking was a big ridiculous deal to me. That being said, I've got a list in place, and it is a shame I have to have it. There are some friends who became like strangers, weird creepers, real strangers, disassociated relatives, and people who, if I see, they make my stomach drop and heart feel hollow with the worst, most hurtful pain that I think is never going to go away. I’m tired of crying, and what I see can’t hurt me. Then there are nasty skanks - one in particular - and if she realizes I’ve blocked her, she’ll know who she is and why. If she doesn’t, she can think about it and figure out the details because she claims to be a smart girl.
If someone is good for my life, they are mare than welcome in it. If they are not good for my life, they don't even need to be in the internet parts of it.
I have a counselor
I've probably needed one for a while but this is a recent thing. My first appointment is next week. I don't know why I waited other than time, money, and general procrastination. Those things are just relative and aren't an excuse to make anymore. I guess some people would be nervous or afraid to open their cans of worms, but I don't like bugs in general so I'm relieved and excited to get rid of them all. I'm a talker but I'm a bottler, and I keep way too many things inside. I can't keep going that way. It isn't working out. My mind is a cluttered mess that's beyond organizing anymore, and it's time to change all of that. I'm a helper and a fixer for everyone I love, but I can't figure out how to help or fix my own self. How messed up is that? I have no more issues than anyone else and I am no important exception who deserves special attention, but I've come to realize that I am just very, very tired.
I'm tired of being strong. That is really such a bullshit blanket term anyway. I try to be but I really do fail at it, and miserably.
I'm tired of pushing things that bother and eat at me to the bottom of the surface or to the back of my mind. That clearly isn't working either. If it was, my deep thinking would be in a calm mode regularly, dancing sometimes at most, but not in crazy spinning mode.
I'm tired of saying my stress levels are manageable and aren't that bad. Clearly if they were fine, I wouldn't have had a random panic attack out of nowhere driving on the interstate on my way to what I knew was going to be an amazing fucking weekend.
Lastly, I have my own extremely haunting ghosts and demons from childhood that very few people even know of. In my heart, I feel that allowing one more completely neutral and unbiased person in on them will be the key to helping me help myself literally heal. I've always been a girl who follows my heart and my gut, and this will be the most monumental and biggest example of it yet. - Sher