When I was with my students teaching, I was okay. Then lunch came and I was disappointed to discover that the pit in my stomach was still there. I felt panicky and disconnected and my body felt like it had electricity flowing through it, but not in a good way. I felt utterly, completely, unsafe. I think this is sometimes called a panic attack. They used to happen VERY frequently and I would shut down for the day. All I could do was go to sleep, go to a movie or go shopping, but all the while I was just running away from the panic, hoping it wouldn't catch up with me. After I got divorced this phenomenon peaked, and the most I could handle in my life was taking 3 classes and working 10 hours a week at a running store. Sometimes I'd be sitting in the math room doing homework when all of the sudden this panic would overwhelm me and I would be utterly paralyzed. There would be crying and phone calls and writing and talking and discomfort and fear and activity for the day would cease.
Anyways, I had a meeting with a colleague after lunch and while we were talking I was acutely aware that the panic was still there, not far below the surface. I just kept swimming. Just. Keep. Swimming.
I made it through the last class of the day, again distracted by my students and teaching. As soon as the classroom was empty, though, the panicky resurfaced.
Just. Keep. Swimming.
I just kept going:
- Costco. I am safe.
- Home. I am safe.
- Run. I am safe.
- Dinner with friends. Relief.
And they took me with them!
My plan after that was to go home and get ready for tomorrow (realizing it's only 6:30, but you can never prep too much, right?) but instead I went to Story Story Night with a girlfriend.
Without panic!
So instead of sitting around tonight watching another Netflix movie (which I'm actually doing while I write, She's All That), I spent the evening laughing, feeling free, getting to know a girlfriend better and meeting new people.
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