Panic Attacks

Anyone else deal with panic attacks?

I had one at work yesterday, and it was not a pleasant experience.  My panic attacks are definitely attacks.  Some people I've talked to describe panic attacks as creeping up on you and then you have the attack.  Mine are never like that.  Mine are more like a bus hitting me.  They are sudden and violent, and leave me remarkably shaken.

The attacks have been pretty intense lately and I decided that rather than suffer, I was going to be proactive and go back to therapy to try and get them under control. After my first session last night, it appears that I am also experiencing depressive symptoms.

  All the same, I've had great experience at this place before, and I am confident that things will get better with treatment.  So far, it's just been "get to know you" questions, but it was a pleasant session otherwise.  We'll work out the treatment plan together and hopefully that will help keep things under control.  It felt a little odd leaving last night without anything in place, but I must continue to remind myself that anything worth doing takes time (HINT HINT - readers asking for updates:  I AM WRITING.  I PROMISE!!!).

Leaving a therapy sessions is always fun.  The therapist usually says something like "Have a good week!" or some other cheery form of farewell, but I usually hear this in my head:

So, dear readers...SURVIVE. 

Emma is sick again

You all are not going to believe this...I'm sick again.  I'm beginning to think that the Met Theater is cursed or something.  It seems like every time that I spend any amount of time at the Met, I am sick or injured in some way.  It doesn't have to be after, but it always coincides with me participating in some performance or event at the Met.

At the last performance, I was very sick through the whole thing.  Heck, half of the cast was sick or injured in some way.  I'm pretty sure that no one in the audience knew.  We were just that good...I hope.

This time, I helped at the Year End Festival of Dance.  We don't do recitals, but each class has a chance to perform a little number.  I'm not sure why it's not called a recital, because I thought recitals were when a class performed a number.  Confusing, I think.

Either way, I made it through two nights of this.  I watched some children I've taught since they were three receive their dance belts, which means they are no longer in what is considered baby ballet - when they return in the fall, they will be in regular ballet classes.  I have to admit I teared up a little, watching the little ceremony.  They were mine for three years and now they're off to more difficult classes.  Fly, baby birds!

I went to my ballet class Saturday morning at 9:00 AM.  Mind you, this was after being at the theater until 10:00 PM the night before, and I didn't reach home until about 10:30 PM.  Saturday morning ballet is especially difficult if you're out late the night before.  You sort of stand at the barre like this:

Sleepy kitty, or sleepy dancer?  You decide.

 Even my teacher kept asking why we were having class that early the day after the event.  I could only shrug, but you could tell that neither of us were all there that morning.  I didn't wake up until after barre, which is usually a full hour into class.  That never happens.  I'm usually ready to go at ten minutes into class.

After dance class, I came home, showered, ate something, and then decided to take a nap like a sensible person, since I was so tired.

I woke up sick.  Is there anything more disappointing than going to sleep thinking that you're going to feel awesome and ready to take on the world after a nap and then waking up feeling like you were hit by a truck?

Because that's how I felt.

I actually ended up back in bed before long, clutching tissues and apple juice as though they were the answer to life, the universe, and everything.  My Kindle came in handy as I played audio books to entertain me and I drifted off to sleep several times listening to Matilda or Jane Eyre.

I am still sick, and look a little like this:

Time for more apple juice.

The Owls are staring at me

Does anyone else use the Firefox themes when they are browsing the Internet?  I decided to change mine this morning, and I have discovered that I should really stick with the abstract ones that don't have eyes.  Seriously.

This is what I see in the corner of my browser:

We are watching you...

What a cute design that is also rather creepy at the same time.

I feel a little sorry for the little orange one.  He seems to be having some problems focusing there.

Focus is an issue.

The blue and purple one looks like he wants to make me an offer I can't refuse (digital cake to anyone who can name that reference!!):

An offer you can't refuse.

The pink looks fed up with the other ones.  Just look at him:

 

Fed. Up.

The green owl looks really interested, as though he's just discovered a cure for the common cold:

What's this?!

They make pretty good (if slightly creepy) web companions.

We are watching you browse.

They are watching me....

....and I think I like it.

Less Stressed and NOPE!

Things are finally starting to settle down. 

One of my evening classes is over and suddenly I have a free evening in my schedule.  I'm not entirely sure what I'll be doing.

Sleeping, maybe?

I don't know.

Sleep sounds awesome.

The other side (practical side) says that I'll have more time to dedicate to other things I should be doing. This all goes back to my post about Motivation, Frustration, and Exhaustion, as I'm pretty sure some of that is impacting my decision to avoid certain adult responsibilities.  These are the boring adult responsibilities that I've been having a bit of struggle with in recent weeks.  Organizing my closet.  Filing old bills.  Paying bills.  Weeding out books I'll never read again and giving them away/selling them.  Setting up that expense spreadsheet I've been meaning to set up. Re-organizing my room. Re-doing my budget.  I find them all boring. I don't want to.

When my brain states: "HEY!  LET'S DO THIS!" the other side of my brain goes:

Nope, nope, nope.  Don't want to.  Can't make me.

It's a struggle, I tell you.

If you have struggles like this, please share in the comments below.  I'd like to know I'm not alone in the whole motivation/adulthood nope-ness of avoidance.