Sunday, Crazy Sunday

Most people love Sundays.

Not me.

Sundays are when my anxiety levels go through the roof. I haven't figured out why, but whether I stay at home or go out, my body is humming, and my breathing is labored, and my heart feels like it's going to crawl up my throat and escape out of my mouth.

Today I wanted to run some errands. This week is a busy week. I've got two doctor's appointments, a massage appointment (after this one I have four more to use in the next three weeks -I know, cry me a river), three days of work, some cleaning (so my niece won't have to feel guilty when she tells her Nani, J's mother, that no, we do NOT live in filfth), a little bit of grocery shopping, AND I need to squeeze in an eyebrow and manicure/pedicure because my eyebrows look like Sasquatch's and I can never do my nails as pretty as a professional.

And that didn't include what I wanted to get done today. I wanted to go to the mall to check out Forever 21 (it was a wash, I hate it when they stock up on fall clothes), to Target to buy some basics, and to Get Smart, the school supply store to buy materials for my classroom (which would be free as long as I stuck to my school budget of $75).

I wanted to go, but before I left I could feel my anxiety bubbling inside. I went anyway, and had a panic attack in the mall. I had to keep my hand on my chest and take deep breaths.

I don't know how to explain it. But it's like this. Imagine a pot boiling. That's my body. And then you put a lid on it. From the outside, you can't tell the pot boiling. But on the inside, it's craziness. That's how I feel. Normal looking on the outside, but on the inside, my body is having a physical reaction that will manifest itself as an emotional reaction (like the pot boiling over) if I don't simmer down.

I called J from the mall, and he told me to relax, to which I replied, "If it was that easy, don't you think I would do that?" But he stayed on the phone with me and reminded me to take deep breaths. When I got home, he told me my breathing was so irregular, it sounded like I was gasping for air.

I then went to Target to buy some razors, toilet paper, and other odds and ends. By then I could feel myself slowing down. And by the time I got to Get Smart, I didn't feel so panic-y. There was a moment when the cashier told me she couldn't process my order because I needed a P.O. number, and I freaked the frig out because the store is soooooo far away, and duh, school is closed on Sundays so no way to get a P.O. number, and if I had to go back all that way I was going to drive my car into a tree, but luckily all that was avoided when the cashier said, "Oops, no! My mistake!" Good for her, because I assure you I could not be held liable for my reaction if it had gone the other way.

When I got home, I lay in bed for a little while, and the humming subsided. I feel much better. My heartbeat is a little fast, but I'll live. :)

On a funny note (because jeez this post is so serious, kind of a downer), here's a little random-ity randomness:

• There's this guy in my neighborhood who walks his parrot. Not on a leash or anything, though I would love to see that. He just walks around with this parrot on his arm. Maybe he's looking for his ship?
• Want to read a funny joke? Where do crazy people walk in the forest? On the "psycho" path. LOL
• Today, I saw a huge dead dog on the side of the road. So sad. But J did not see it. So on the way back, I said, "Look babe! It's right there! You see that big thing! There it is! Oh....Oh, no! That's just a rock -that's not the dog! Where was it?"
• My sister wanted to see my scar, so I said, "I haven't shaved down there, and I don't want you to give me any grief about it, okay?" To which she replied, "I can hardly see your scar! But whoa! It looks like a hairy armpit down there."