Thursday, September 22, 2016

A Day that I Can't Stand

     It's been a while since I last wrote in here.  That's because I was doing fine.  I started off the semester with hardly a hitch.  I did ask Brian to drive me in a couple of mornings early on, but soon I was walking to and from school on my own regularly.  I was making it to every recitation and lab I had to teach, each class I was taking, and all of my various meetings.  I was eating during that two hour gap I had between recitation and lab.  I had fries during the hour break during comps and made it through the second part of the exam just fine.  I was snacking at gatherings with friends and colleagues.  It was all going so well.  My therapist seems pleased with my progress.  It's starting to look like we might not have to meet for a while, although I schedule another appointment just in case.
     Then today happened.  I don't know what triggered it exactly.  Maybe it's just that my fascination with Pokemon has dwindled, so I wasn't able to distract myself like I have in the past.  I was feeling just a tiny bit off, a little gassy, but otherwise fine.  I was supposed to help proctor an exam.  I made it into campus before my anxiety started causing trouble.  Maybe I was a little worse off than I realized.  Okay, well there's a bathroom on the first floor of Neville.  I went in and sat in a stall and calmed down.  I was going to be fine.
     The time was starting to tick down.  I left and started walking toward Bennett.  There was a women's restroom on the second floor.  I would just go grab the grading rubric from my mailbox and then go to the bathroom.  No, I was going to go to the bathroom first.  I'd worry about the rubric later.
     I get up there, I get into one of the stalls, and I'm not doing so well at all.  I'm hot and sweaty and my GI tract is not happy.  I start shaking.  I feel like I'm about to cry.  I'm sure that if I walk down to that classroom, I'm going to lose it completely.  So I text the professor I'm TAing for and ask him if he can find someone to cover for me.  There are three minutes before I'm supposed to be there.  I feel like a garbage human being.
     The professor texts me back to let me know that they've got it covered.  I go home.  I sit down at my desk.  I have a ton of responsibilities, like the meeting I'm supposed to be at at 1 to discuss next week's recitations.  I decide I'm not going.  I'm still in rough shape and I really need to pull things together before 4 so that I can run lab.  I've got a paper to write, papers to grade (which I can't grade now because I never picked up the rubric).  But the only thing I can do right now is write in here.  I have to get it out.  Maybe by putting it down on paper, I can keep it from consuming me.
     I hate anxiety so much.  What should have been an easy task, something well within my control, became and impossibility and I flaked out last minute.  Maybe I should have tried anyway.  I told myself, walking between Neville and Bennett, that the worst thing that could happen was I'd have an anxiety attack in the classroom.  I thought it like it was no big deal.  But when I was in that bathroom stall, it seemed like the worst thing in the world.  I wanted nothing more than to be back at home, where I'd be safe.  I had made so much progress, but now I was back to square one.  Now I have to wonder, can I make it through lab?  Am I going to have to revert back to Brian driving me everywhere, to eating nothing between obligations, reduced once again to the shadow of the person I should be?
     I know that this will pass.  I know that, in time, I'll get back to the way I was yesterday, but I also know that I'll relapse again and again and again.  It's always there, waiting, looking for a way in.  Today it found one.  I just hope that I can get through lab, because I don't know what I'll do if I can't.  (Note: I wanted to end with, "I hope that I'll survive," as an allusion to System of a Down's Lonely Day, but I didn't want to give folks the wrong idea.)

Friday, August 26, 2016

Beginning Semester Woes

     Yesterday I had my final meeting with my counselor at the Counseling Center.  I was feeling pretty good.  I had been able to walk into campus on my own several times to replenish my Pokeball stash and take over some gyms.  I experienced barely any anxiety before my meeting and by the time it was over, I was on cloud nine.  I felt like maybe finally things were falling into place.  Maybe I would make it through the semester without the sort of issues I'd faced the previous semester.
     I spent my evening playing Pokemon GO at the Waterfront.  Brian and I left almost immediately after we'd finished dinner, something I'll rarely do.  I stayed out for a couple of hours chasing Pokemon and had a blast.  I even convinced Brian to pull over when I spotted a Charmander on my radar on our drive down and I was able to catch it.  That was the first wild Charmander I'd seen and catching it was one of the highlights of my day.


     Fast forward to this morning.  I had two meetings, one for recitation TAs and one for lab TAs (I'm doing both this semester).  I didn't even really feel like I was giving them much thought, but soon after climbing out of bed I realized my GI tract was not doing too well.  It was like last semester all over again, exactly what I had been dreading.
     It wasn't as bad as it has been on my worst days, but it was not fun either.  But I pulled through.  Brian drove me to campus.  Many of the roads were blocked off for incoming students, so I ended up having to walk part of the way, but I didn't feel too wonky.  I arrived just as the meeting was about to begin, so my mind didn't have a lot of time to work itself up.  By the end I felt hungry and tired, but otherwise mostly okay.
     I had my first meeting with an external counselor (as in, not affiliated with school) this afternoon.  Between begging my phone to grant me the Pokemon I saw on my radar and navigating my way to a new location, I kept myself pretty well occupied, so I was feeling mostly all right.  I'm really hoping that through working with a professional instead of going it alone I'll be able to get my anxiety under control.  I can't stand feeling sick whenever I have to leave my house, squaring off against my mind most every morning.  Ugh, anxiety sucks!

Friday, August 19, 2016

Making a Call to a Stranger

     One of the worst things about anxiety, for me anyway, is that the things I need to do to get help for my anxiety only further my anxiety.  Leaving the house to meet with a counselor makes me anxious.  Emailing strangers, going through all of their possible responses in my head makes me anxious.  Talking to strangers on the phone makes me even more anxious.  There is no winning.
     Let me back up a bit.  On Tuesday I had a follow up meeting with the counselor I spoke to at the Counseling Center last week.  We'll call her Jane.  Due to high demand, the Counseling Center cannot offer weekly counseling sessions, so she had, at our earlier session, referred me to an external counselor, whom we'll call Dr. Smith, but unfortunately Dr. Smith did not have an availability that would work with my schedule.  Dr. Smith gave me a list of names for other counselors.
     I brought the list of names to Jane and she recommended an individual we'll call Dr. Jones.  I had been lucky to find an email address for Dr. Smith, so I had been able to contact her via email rather than by having to give her a phone call.  However, for Dr. Jones, I could only find a phone number.  I hate making phone calls to strangers.  The mere thought of doing so makes me feel physically ill.
     I procrastinated on calling Dr. Jones.  I told myself that since I'd had such a late appointment on Tuesday, I could hold off until Wednesday to make the call.  Wednesday rolls around and I send the email off to disability services to find out what steps I need to take to be potentially eligible for disability accommodations, should I need them.  I decided to wait until I'd heard back from disability services so I would be able to tell Dr. Jones what disability services was looking for.  There was some strategy there, but it also gave me an excuse not to deal with making that phone call.
     On Thursday I received the info I needed from disability services.  I should have made the phone call then, but I kept pushing it off, saying I'd do it after lunch or after I finished this or that part of my craft and so on.  Next thing I know, the day's over.
     It's really getting down to the wire now.  School starts in just over a week and I have another follow up appointment with my counselor in six days.  I wanted to ask Brian to make the phone call, like I do so often, but I knew I had to do it.
     It probably took me about 10 minutes of agonizing before I finally pressed the button.  My heart heart hammered as the phone rang.  I was sweating and my GI tract was not pleased.  It rang several times and then the answering machine came on.  Answering machines are great!  It was such a relief to hear that recording instead of having to interact with an actual human being.  I bumbled my way through the message.
     Even now, half an hour later, my anxiety hasn't calmed down completely.  It's partly because I know that there's more to come, that one of these days Dr. Smith is going to call me back and I'm going to have to talk to her over the phone.  But I made that initial call.

Thursday, August 11, 2016

Seeking Help

     Today I took, what I hope, is a major step forward.  I went to the campus counseling center.  It's something I've thought about many times before, but I could never bring myself to do it.  Yesterday proved to be the tipping point.
     Yesterday I received an email from my department containing my schedule for the upcoming semester.  I had known that I would probably be teaching in person sections (although I had been hoping for a grading appointment), but seeing the four separate sections written out on paper hit me hard.  Those were four times when I would have to be on campus, no matter what.  As my anxiety weighed on me, I told myself I was going to make an appointment at the counseling center the following day.
     Today I looked at the counseling center's hours and decided to go in around 1.  It took me some time to steel myself, but I did.  Brian drove me and accompanied me inside.  We headed to the front desk and I told the woman that I wanted to make an appointment.  She asked if I was taking summer classes and I said I wasn't.  She informed me that they generally are only able to see students who are taking summer classes.  That was when the water works began.  One second I was okay and then out of nowhere I was in tears.  I really hate how they can spring up out of nowhere and there's nothing I can do to stop them, but maybe this time it was a good thing.  I guess that made my case seem urgent because I was able to talk to a counselor.
     After filling out a ton of paperwork, I talked to a very nice woman who discussed my situation with me and helped me plan what to do next.  Right now I'm feeling pretty good, like I'm being proactive, like actually have some control over my situation, like maybe I'll be able to make it through this semester after all.  It's a good feeling.

Monday, August 8, 2016

Anxiety is Hell

     There's a quote from Stephen King's Storm of the Century that has stuck with me since my first time watching it and that is, "Hell is repetition."  The mysterious newcomer to the small Maine island community, Andre Linoge, says this as he explains the grim afterlife fate of one of the town's sinners.  I haven't seen the movie in years, so I can't say for sure, but I think the man's eternal punishment involved having his eyeballs ripped out and consumed over again and again and again.
     Storm of the Century is, of course, a movie, but King's description of Hell seems to me an apt one.  It describes anxiety perfectly.  Anxiety is Hell.
     I made this connection the other day when I was in the car.  I don't remember which trip it was because I've been on quite a number over the past few days, but I was thinking about how the start of each car trip was the same.  It didn't matter that I'd made it through so many trips already that week or even that day; my anxiety still reared its ugly head, making me aware of every sensation in my GI tract, assuring me that those discomforts were a sign that I was going to be sick.
     I wish anxiety was more like a video game battle.  You might have to fight a bunch of times before you get through the boss, but once you do, that's it.  You've defeated it.  You don't have to battle it again.  Sometimes it does work like that a little bit, wherein if I work through my anxiety enough times, it starts to lessen.  But there are other times, such as now, when no matter what I do, it doesn't lessen.  These past few days have been a real struggle for me.
     It probably wouldn't have been so bad were it not for the doctor's visit, which sent my anxiety into high alert, and the antibiotics, which aren't agreeing perfectly with me.  But it happened as it did and now I'm miserable.  Each time I've wanted to leave the house, whether to visit family, hunt Pokemon, or pick out some groceries, it has required copious amounts of dedication and fortitude and has left me feeling worn out.
     Each day Brian and I will try capturing a couple of nearby Pokemon Gyms so I can get my defender bonus.  Yesterday when we arrived, there was a swarm of kids working on those gyms.  No way were the two of us going to be able to take on the five or so of them.  Brian suggested going home and coming back later.  The suggestion was frustrating for me.  Here I had worked through my anxiety enough to make the trip.  If we left, I'd have gone through that effort for naught and I'd have to wrestle with that manipulative copilot all over again if we did return.  I might not have liked the suggestion anyway, even without anxiety, but anxiety made the situation worse.
     Today some members of Brian's family were having a lunch get together at Happy China Buffet.  When it came time to leave the house, I weighed my options.  I could have gone, but I had a feeling that it was going to be one of those trips where my anxiety kept building and when we were halfway to the restaurant I'd break down and beg Brian to take me home.  The thought of being in the restaurant was making me feel trapped and I didn't think that was going to lessen any time soon.
     When I told Brian I wasn't going, he told me that it was all right, that I didn't have to go if I didn't want to.  He was trying to be reassuring in a way, I think, but it only made me feel worse.  It wasn't that I didn't want to go.  Were it not for anxiety, I'd have been there in a heartbeat.  I'd love to chase some Pokemon on the drive down and then munch on some spring rolls while chatting with his family.  His family is great and I would have been happy to see them again.  What I didn't want was the stomach malaise and those awful thoughts swirling through my head, making me second guess myself, everything.  I'm already exhausted from disjointed bouts of slumber and two days of nonstop battling with my anxiety.  I needed a break.
     When Brian left, I was on the verge of tears.  I felt like such an awful person for skipping out on the family get together.  That's the thing about mental illness; because you are not necessarily physically incapacitated, you end up feeling like a bad person when you make the choice that is best for your overall well being in that moment.  Since the problem  is in your brain and not the work of some external agent, you feel like you should be able to control it.  I feel like I'm causing that gastrointestinal unrest, like it's all my fault, but I didn't choose to have anxiety.  It is just as much of an illness as those caused by bacteria and viruses are and we as a society need to recognize this.
     The semester begins in three weeks and the thought terrifies me.  I should be feeling those end of summer blues, but instead I'm wondering if there's some way I can give up my assistanceship.  If we didn't need the money, I probably would consider this more seriously, but for now it's only a passing thought.  The idea that I'm going to have to be physically present X days a week is enough to make me want to give up on the PhD entirely, but I've worked so hard to get here and I don't have a backup plan.
     Anxiety is Hell.  Rarely do I have a good day when it's not there to rain on part of it, like the drive to Bangor or Winterport, and I've had many bad days because of it.  I wish I could make it go away, but I can't.

Friday, August 5, 2016

The Doctor's Appointment

     Today is going to be torture, and I'll be lucky if I make it through everything I intend to.  I have a doctor's appointment scheduled for an hour from now and my anxiety is through the roof.  The thought of having to be in that particular location at that particular time, having to stay there for some indefinite amount of time, is really getting to me.  My gut isn't doing so well (Pepto Bismol usually helps with this aspect) and I'm shaking.  Brian is away at a medical appointment of his own, so I'm all alone,  It's awful.
     Once my appointment's through, Brian and I are expected at his grandma's birthday party.  His aunts and uncles from out of state are coming up for this.  It should be a good time, but my anxiety is already starting to wear on me.  Anxiety, for me, can be physically draining and the longer it goes on for, the greater a toll it takes on me.  I don't know if I'll have the energy once this is through.  Ugh, anxiety sure does suck!
     Update: well, I was right that it was going to be a long, tiring day, but I got through a lot of stuff.  The doctor's appointment was the worst of it,  I was feeling miserable, or, as I phrased it to Brian, worse than death on the trip down.  We pulled into the parking lot and I wanted to go home.  I didn't think I was going to make it through.  There was this granite block thing near the entryway to the health center and I sat there for a few, trying to pull myself together.
     Luckily, few people had appointments today, so the doctor was able to see me almost immediately.  During the time in which I was waiting, I read some of a Dave Barry book aloud to Brian to quell my anxiety.  That seemed to do the trick pretty well.  I was feeling a lot better by the time it was all over.
     After that, Brian drove me down to the Bangor Waterfront for some Pokemon hunting.  There weren't many monsters hanging around when we first got there, but then some people dropped some lures and monsters started popping up in the area.  My fave catch of the day was probably the Jynx which I thought ran away on me but which I later found among my Pokemon.  I also found a Poliwhirl, some Gastlys, a Magikarp, a Tauros, a Psyduck, and a couple of Goldeens, among others.  Not super rare monsters or anything, but I had a good time.
     Brian and I then headed over to his grandma's house for her birthday celebration.  He and I arrived just in time for lunch.  I wasn't sure if I was going to be up to eating after my rough start to the morning, but I did manage a little snacking.  I wanted to eat more of the chips and dip, but the dip was sour cream intensive and I didn't want to push it.
     We sat around talking with his family for a couple of hours before we decided to head up to Rite Aid to pick up my antibiotics.  So that was yet another trip, but I made it through.  Later in the afternoon, Brian and I drove around campus to collect more Pokeballs and get our daily defender bonus.  I hadn't been feeling so great when we set out, although not nearly as sick as I had felt that morning, but by the time I got through the gym battles I was doing all right.
     Then it was dinnertime.  Brian and I have been eating seasoned rice meals for dinner the past few nights, but we didn't have any left, so we'd need to run to Hannaford for some more.  I decided to challenge myself one last time and accompany Brian to Hannaford.  I was a little off at the outset, but I made it through.  So it was a long day, stressful and miserable at times, but I feel accomplished.

Wednesday, August 3, 2016

Pokefest Bangor

     My body has not been cooperating with me lately, which has put a damper on my summer plans.  I won't be going to Portland.  I doubt I would have anyway, even if I had been feeling well, but the whole getting sick thing threw a major wrench into my plans.
     On Saturday, July 23rd I had been hoping to go to the Orrington town wide yard sale and then head to a Pokemon hunting event in Bucksport.  The whole time I'd be only 40 or so minutes away from home, a significant distance, no doubt, but nothing more intensive than a Winterport trip and being away from home for an extended period of time would be good practice for a trip to Portland the following weekend.  Well, sometime during the week leading up to the 23rd, I realized I had another infection.
     The infection was still in full swing as the weekend arrived.  Brian and I managed a short trip into Bangor on Saturday to visit his family and I pushed my grand plan off until Sunday.  Sunday comes and I'm still not well, so I decided that skipping out on the trip would be the best course of action.  I also decide that I will not be going to Portland the following weekend, but there's a Pokemon festival happening in Bangor on Sunday that might be fun to attend.
     I haven't been getting the rest that I need and as Monday rolls around I realize that I'm only getting worse, so for the next few days I stick mostly to home, reading, listening to books on tape, watching Netflix, and the like.  By the time the weekend arrives, I'm doing a lot better, although I'm not 100%.
     Sunday arrives and I have to choose whether or not to go to Pokefest.  I'm nervous and I try couching my anxiety in concern about setbacks in my progress if I go.  However, with the tracking system diasabled and Pokevision no longer operational, this sort of event is the only thing that'll make Pokemon hunting feasible for those of us not living in big cities.  I decide to give it a go, assuring myself that I can go home anytime I'd like.  I'm glad I did.
     Brian and I get to Pokefest and the first monster I spot is a Jynx.  I tell Brian that even if we don't see another cool monster, the trip is now officially worth it because I got a Jynx.  Well, the lures bring out two more Jynxes, plus tons of water Pokemon and a handful of Gastlys.  Plus I run into my little buddy Meowth.  Brian and I end up spending two hours there, chasing one Pokemon after another.  I would have stayed longer, but  figure spending two hours running around out in the sun with no fluid intake is probably enough wear and tear for my body for one day.  I had a blast, and I'm so glad I went.

Hanging out with Meowth at Pokefest.

Me with one of the Jynxes I found at Pokefest.

     On the way home, I see a Meowth pop up on my radar.  With the tracking system broken as it is, I'm sure there's no way I'll find it, but then I see something pop up on the side of the road.  The Meowth!  I manage to click on it and take a few AR pictures of it before I catch it.  Yes, it was a grand day for catching Pokemon.

The Meowth I found while driving.