Namaste My Ass

We went to the mall tonight to have a quick dinner, buy some shoes and a few other things for our upcoming Spring Break cruise. My husband decided to park in the parking garage.

Normally, parking garages freak me out but if I’m driving, I’m distracted just enough to ignore that panicky “Oh sweet Jesus, I’m surrounded and trapped by thousands and thousands of pounds of concrete” feeling.

Tonight, not so much.

I swear this garage had the lowest clearance I’ve ever seen in my life and my husband couldn’t find a parking space right away. Finally, I saw an entrance to the mall and told him to stop. I bolted from the Jeep and didn’t breathe normally until I was at the top of the escalator, inside the mall.

I feel stupid. I feel weak. I want to control these panic attacks. I try to tell myself how silly it is. I’ve felt that slightly panicky “I don’t like this” feeling before. I usually make some attempt to forge through it. Sometimes I win, sometimes the panic wins. I had not taken my medicine all day so it’s my fault. I maybe could have pushed back and gotten through it with the extra controlled substance help.

Anyway, while I was trying to keep myself from Wolverine-ing out of the Jeep with my bare hands, I was thinking of deep breathing and zen meditation and relaxing.

What a load of total bull shit. Namaste my ass, mother fuckers. Hand over the controlled substances.

ativan

What makes you panicky? What makes you feel out of control? Tell me in the comments and help me feel less freakish tonight.

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8 comments

  1. You hit two of my big ones: shopping malls and parking ramps/lots. Bugs in my house are big one too. I was once in hysterics over the fact that I had a fly in my apartment I couldn’t kill. It feels like a major invasion. I’d probably take it better if the country were actually being invaded and bombs were flying, at least everyone else would feel the same sense of panic as me. I live pretty close to Canada, so it could happen. Sleep tight Steph.

  2. Thinking about driving on a flyover or upper level of a mixmaster is a total mindfuck for me. Forget doing it, I’ve never gotten that far. Thank you for acknowledging what all of us feel about our particular panic button!

    1. Kari, that used to get me, too, before we lived in the Dallas area. At first, I would actually turn on my hazard lights and go about half the posted speed limit, much to the distress of the people stuck behind me. Eventually, I just learned to keep my eyes on the road. Never look to the sides, never look down. Eyes on the road and it’s over before you know it. Also, my fear of heights kind of motivated me to get the fuck over the blasted things as quickly as possible.

  3. I’ve previously mentioned my fear of heights. But you wanna know what really makes me freak the fuck out? Tornadoes. Or really, the threat of tornadoes. I’ve never actually experienced one. But when the weather is nasty, I will sit by the window and watch the sky. While refreshing the radar and NOAA weather advisories over and over. Just thinking about it while writing this makes my heart pound. When you were having all that nasty weather, I was so scared for you and your family!!!

    1. I love you for worrying about us! Alabama has given us some very scary moments. Thank God, we’ve dodged them (so far) here but there have been some hairy moments. I actually went through a small tornado when we lived in Missouri, of all places. It was like an F1 but if that was a weakling, I never want to see anything bigger. The sound… You hear the news and the “freight train” comparisons and you’re like “right, whatever”. But it honest to God sounds just like that. It went right over our house, sending a huge pine tree down and we had some other minor damage but we were very blessed that it wasn’t worse.

  4. So we (hubs & 2 tiny humans) are going to Orlando in a few weeks. I begged to drive there. We live in Jersey, it’s like. 18 hours or something. Hubs says no. He just doesn’t get that I’m better when I’m controlling the vehicle. So flying wigs me out. I hate they won’t let me fly the plane & I hate when they pressurize the cabin. I’m a yogi, I’ve tried the breathing techniques, the trying to envision myself somewhere else. Fuck that! It doesn’t work. Last time I flew, I took a lovely mood stabilizer, tossed back 3 of the biggest jack & cokes I could & passed out. So don’t freak, pass the prescription & the Jack bottle!

    1. Girl, out of all the replies here, this is the one that surprised me the most. I’m glad I’m in good company and to know even the best of yogis can lose their shit! We go to Orlando every Hallowen so hit me up if you need some info. Is this yall’s first time? Drink a Jack for me and have fun!!!

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