I should be writing in this blog more. I'm holding a lot in right now, tightly grasping onto myself in the fear of losing it before I manage to get to Seattle. Last night, I woke up in the middle of the night with a monster migraine, bad enough to bring tears to my eyes. Anymore details than that, you probably don't want to know. I managed to sleep the migraine off into the early afternoon, giving me enough time to start making my sandwich for work, and schedule with two women and their truck to haul away my junk on the Thursday afternoon before I move, and pack the U-Haul on the Friday morning I move. This in two weeks.
I had a panic attack.
A real humdinger of a one, too. Hyper-ventilation. Nausea. The Shakes. I mean, the works. Imagine the pure delight of trying to call off from work while I was trying not to throw up while talking to management. I laid on the bed, repeating, "I will not lose it. I will make it to Seattle." in mantra-like fashion for just under an hour. But somehow, that worked. Then a hot shower and a comfy t-shirt did the rest. Well, most of the rest. I'm still edgy, and I doubt I could be in ten feet of another person right now.
But my friend from Seattle is right. I wouldn't be freaking out so badly, if my neuroses weren't threatened by the possibility of progress. And the last several freakouts were like this one, timed within minutes after I committed to some concrete stage of my move. It's hard to know that I expected it to be this hard, but not understand how it would be this hard. That I would be very nervous, yes. That I would feel like the National Icelandic Irish Tap Team would be dancing on my nervous system, no. I can't say that I'm not worried, that the next one might not be so bad that I won't lose it. But I am the Battlin' Buddha. We'll let it ride.
Anyway, I can't lose any days of work. But Dad did come through with the full November stipend. Which I wasn't sure he would do. I better not think about that too much. Not the full month. That this is the last month stipend I will take from him. I'm sweating. Oy. This is going to be a long two weeks. I think I'll have some Coke, something resembling food, and lay down now.
I had a panic attack.
A real humdinger of a one, too. Hyper-ventilation. Nausea. The Shakes. I mean, the works. Imagine the pure delight of trying to call off from work while I was trying not to throw up while talking to management. I laid on the bed, repeating, "I will not lose it. I will make it to Seattle." in mantra-like fashion for just under an hour. But somehow, that worked. Then a hot shower and a comfy t-shirt did the rest. Well, most of the rest. I'm still edgy, and I doubt I could be in ten feet of another person right now.
But my friend from Seattle is right. I wouldn't be freaking out so badly, if my neuroses weren't threatened by the possibility of progress. And the last several freakouts were like this one, timed within minutes after I committed to some concrete stage of my move. It's hard to know that I expected it to be this hard, but not understand how it would be this hard. That I would be very nervous, yes. That I would feel like the National Icelandic Irish Tap Team would be dancing on my nervous system, no. I can't say that I'm not worried, that the next one might not be so bad that I won't lose it. But I am the Battlin' Buddha. We'll let it ride.
Anyway, I can't lose any days of work. But Dad did come through with the full November stipend. Which I wasn't sure he would do. I better not think about that too much. Not the full month. That this is the last month stipend I will take from him. I'm sweating. Oy. This is going to be a long two weeks. I think I'll have some Coke, something resembling food, and lay down now.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home