That Tagline Up There
Let’s chat about that tagline up there shall we? Have you noticed it?
“Lexapro and Mai Tais… Baby Steps!”
That little phrase could only be authored by one bitch in the blogosphere. But, that’s ok, her current tagline is my creation although, I can’t take full credit because that funny little old lady said that to Ellen on her show a few months ago.
Anyway - where did the inspiration for my tagline come from? My love of Mai Tais and my happy reliance on Lexapro.
Yes, I’m on anti-anxiety meds. I have GAD (Generalized Anxiety Disorder), thanks to my beloved Lexapro I no longer have paralyzing anxiety attacks.
I know there are quite a few of us who are on some form of meds out here in the blogosphere. We bloggers are some fucked up people. Maybe not all of us - but more than a few. For those of us who don’t like crowded areas and social gatherings tend to stress us out a bit, the blogosphere provides the social interaction we might crave while still providing a buffer that we sometimes find very necessary.
My first major panic attack was Halloween 2005, ahhh, I remember it well, good times, gooood times.
We were over at Pismo for the weekend, visiting a farmer’s market in Avila and enjoying the gorgeous fall weather. Mike and my stepdad decided to pop into Harry’s (a bar in Pismo) for some live music and a couple of beers. Meanwhile, my mother and I (with 4 kids in the back including Maggie, 10 months old) went to Starbuck’s grabbed some coffee and headed over to let the kids play on the swings that are located on the beach just a couple of blocks from Harry’s.
The panic attack started mid conversation with my mom. It started like a small vibration and kept rolling until it roared like a tornado. It was half out of body experience and half demonic posession. At one point I considered leaping out of the car because it just wasn’t getting me away from whatever IT was - fast enough.
Worse yet, by the time we met back up with the guys, I found that I was one of the two designated drivers. That was a fun conversation NOT to be part of.
“Wow, I’ve had too much to drink.”
“Yes, but can Amy drive?”
“It is a short drive…”
“Then you do it.”
“And get pulled over? At least she’s sober!”
“Uh… yeah but she’s uh… well… you know…”
Guess what? I must have picked the short straw because my mom and stepdad drove the kids in one car and I found myself in the driver’s side of our jeep hoping I could find my way back to the cabin in the canyon we had rented for the weekend.
My mom drives like a bat out of hell. She’s nearly impossible to follow. Fine to ride along with - but impossible to follow. Within seconds her tail lights were a distant memory and it was just Mike and I sitting there while I tried to remember how to start the car.
For the first time in my driving history I focused intently on the 10:00 and 2:00 positions on the wheel and with a white knuckle grip I eased out of the parking lot and prayed that somewhere I did have an inner compass that would just guide me back to the cabin that I had only been to ONE time and that was in daylight.
Mike later told me that all he could think of was that if we got pulled over, no cop was going to believe I was in the middle of a panic attack, and if the cop happened to be a jerk - by the time he was done - I might be completely comotose.
I barely remember the drive and I think I kept muttering, “I don’t know what is wrong with me… I can’t breathe, I’m really scared!!!”
Once we arrived at the cabin I spent the next hour alternating between cold chills and indescribable pain while Mike (in his great wisdom) attempted to pour whiskey down me. Any other time I would have relished the thought of Mike trying to get me drunk and take advantage of me, unfortunately it didn’t take a genius to realize that his only goal was to put me into a drunken stupor in the hopes that I might stop crying and mumbling.
I slept and by morning most of it seemed like a bad dream. I spent the rest of the weekend fearing that any little thing might set off another attack. Thus began the real cycle of panic attacks, once you have one the only thing you think about is having another one. That’s the gift that just keeps on giving.
About a month later I had one at Wal-Mart…
I don’t shop at Wal-Mart anymore.
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April 27th, 2007
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Awwww, thanks. :mrgreen: *smooches*
