Rainbow Chills

I dropped my basket last night. For those of you who have read The Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood, you know this is bad news. For those of you who have not, here's the briefest of explanations. Vivi, the central and terrifically flawed character in Rebecca Wells' two YaYa novels, had a breakdown of sorts when her children were young. She was abusing medication, she was in a cycle of religious fanatacism and eventually beats her children. As her children grow up, they have only sketchy memories of this period in their lives, the time in their life when their mom went away for a few weeks and missed Easter. Vivi, her husband Shep, and her best friends, the YaYas describe Vivi's breakdown as the time when Vivi dropped her basket.

I dropped my basket last night. The adrenaline that has been carrying me through my days ran out. I had the worst panic attack I can remember in probably close to a year. (I know I had a bad one about 6 weeks ago but remember the bad alcohol/ medicine reaction. Most of that night is not in my memory.)

I woke up this morning with swollen eyes and red dots under my eyes- capillaries, blood vessels. I don't know what to call them but I cried so hard and had such a hard time breathing while in my panic that they popped out all under my eyes. I put make up on this morning before even checking the weather. I could not stand looking at myself that way, let alone someone else, even Michelle, seeing how badly I looked.

I was able to hold it together for the most part in work this morning. A few tears snuck out in front of one coworker. Before 10:00, I just could not get a sentence out without tears coming too so I just did not speak to anyone. It was not easy.

I am so tired. I have been working virtually nonstop for three weeks. I have to work tomorrow. I need to do work tonight that I brought home to prepare for tomorrow. I don't know how I can keep going like this for another three weeks. It is not going to slow down until after Thanksgiving. December should be a quiet month for me. I sure hope so. I will not deal with this lack of work/life balance during the magic that surrounds me in December.

Michelle reminded me last night of the magic that we live in throughout December. We have been lucky over the past five years to have one magical December after another. I want that again this month. I need it.

The unavoidable discussion that happens each time my anxiety hits like it did last night happened again. I cried for the loss of my Lulu and I wished for a feline friend. I can only explain my preoccupation in this way:

Last September, I dropped my basket in a big way. I stopped going to work. I panicked every day. I acknowledged that I needed professional help and medication on the day after Labor Day, September 3. The day before, Michelle and I saw a mouse on our counter top eating leftover birthday cake. We had been having trouble with mice- we had only been in that apartment for about 2 months. The mouse on the counter was the breaking point. Michelle agreed to get a cat. On Saturday September 7 Michelle, my Mom, and my sister Angie took me a few places to get a kitten but there were none. So weird during kitten season but we just could not find one at any shelters we went to. Michelle and my Mom kept looking at my as though I was broken. They apologized to me and knew that the thought of getting a kitten had been getting me through the week. I was having major trouble adjusting to the Paxil and Xanax (about 6x the amount of xanax I would ever consider taking now even on the worst days!). I was sleeping alot and during my waking hours, I was panicking. No kitty.

I went to work on Monday- probably 1 of 2 days I worked that week. I was on my way to having to take Family and Medical Leave- eating through my paid vacation and sick time in record speed. Michelle called me and said that a pet supply store that hosted SPCA animals had two female kittens. She and her Dad went to get them. I practically danced through the office- telling everyone that I was getting a kitten. I can not tell you how happy I was when Michelle brought that tiny black baby girl home. When I think now of how tiny she was, I can hardly believe it.

Lulu sat with me while I read my anxiety books and wrote in my journal- in the middle of week day afternoons when I should have been working. She napped on the couch with me when my medicine made me glassy eyed and drowsy. She sat on the edge of the bath tub and batted at the bubbles when I was so anxious and depressed that I tried to soak my pain away in the bath every single day.

I associate feeling better after panic with Lulu. She was my friend. She was at home with me when I was afraid to leave the house. She snuggled with me when I thought I was going crazy and everyone must be able to see it. She never judged it and if she did, she never let me know.

Michelle is late coming home from work and the completely delude, fantasy world part of me is sitting here, typing through my tears, and wishing she was at Morris Animal Refuge right now, getting me a kitten.