Where there is tea, there is hope. -Arthur Wing Pinero
Tiny snowflakes start to dust the world outside and I’ve turned down my thermostat. Not because I enjoy the inside temperature at a slightly colder setting and certainly not because I’m a “winter person…but because I have to find ways to cut corners.
A lot of my life has been spent independently. I was brought up with an incredible mindset of being able to fend for myself, to take care of my own. No, not in a way that I felt I had no support otherwise. I grew up in a loving and supportive home. My family and friends are there for me if and whenever I need. It’s different. I think I was given tools throughout my life so that when I went out into the real world I never had to rely on someone else in order to have a roof over my head. The realities of life can be shocking, and I was readily prepared for it.
At the moment I am struggling. Yes, I do realize that that can all be a matter or perspective. Comparatively, I am doing well. I have a roof over my head, a warm home, supportive friends and family, 3 jobs that I love. What I’m struggling with is not what I am lacking, but what I may stand to lose. And what I stand to lose is a life I have worked hard to achieve and grown accustomed to.
Covid-19, for myself and for many, has taken many different tolls. In March 2020, the restaurant that I work at shut down for 3 months. In those 3 months I was lucky enough to collect CERB which covered all my basics. I spent that time in a whirlwind of emotions. The first 2 weeks felt like vacation. I caught up with friends and family, spent my days playing music, drank wine in the evening accompanied with delicious food, flirted with men at night through dating apps. When it seemed like the lockdown may be longer than any of us really expected, that’s when things changed.
I needed a more sustainable lifestyle. This was my chance to get my ducks in a row and do all the things I never really had time for. I started eating well, learning how to sleep, meditating, trying new things musically, writing, hiking, teaching. God I love hiking. For the first time in my life I was living a life that I truly wanted. I’m not putting down work in any regards. I love my job serving at the restaurant and not to toot my own horn in an egotistical way....but I am damn good at it.
All of a sudden, all the bullshit went away too. I recognized all the men in my life who would only text or call at night out of loneliness, drunkenness, and let’s face it - horniness. I realized that those connections were sincerely lacking in depth. But it was a blessing. I was able to look at my past two years honestly and say that after my long term relationship ended I was searching for attention in any way possible, allowing sub-par connections into my life that would never amount to anything.
That was hard to face. To accept and move forward from. I cut ties, listened to pleas and promises, ignored 4am phone calls, took note of complete 180° changes of Mr. Nice Guys to Mr. I Never Really Liked You Anyways, and some genuine well-wishers.
What I wanted to focus on was Quality vs. Quantity. And not just in my romantic life, but in all areas. Especially with friendships. Being newer to town, I wanted to work on building genuine friendships. So, I took a good look at the people in my life here and vowed to grow the relationships/friendships that were in the budding phases.
This brought so much into my life and I am forever grateful for it. As restrictions started to ease, I started to really get to know the friends that I have here. I started to open up in ways I haven’t in the past. Social Distance Styled gatherings of good people were happening. Instead of being in large groups, small circles were allowing me to really get to understanding the people in my life. Thoughts, dreams, and fears were shared. Even a couple of tears. But above all…there was support and love.
I had a set back. In moments of pure happiness and in opening myself up, I’d forgotten about this one thing. Anxiety. It hit me like a train. It was if my body and my mind just shut me down. Was it a breakdown? Everything in me says yes. It wrecked me to a point where I thought there was no coming back from it.
That Monday when the panic attack hit was probably the worst day of my life. I’d had panic attacks before, but never like this. It was waves upon waves of panic and fear for a whole 24 hours. To the point where I could not look at myself in the mirror because I could not recognize the person looking back. All of my senses were heightened to a degree that I have never experienced. Colors were so clear, I could hear the pitch of the air coming through the vent in my kitchen, I could smell the tiniest coffee spill on my blanket from steps away. I couldn’t sit still. One moment I’d be pacing around my kitchen island, and the next doing jumping jacks.
And my mind. Oh god....my mind. It was trying to grasp at anything that made any sense. It was desperately grasping at ways to make connections. Everything I’d see had a memory or pattern attached to it. The tiles in my shower, layered like bricks looked like how you play E Minor on a ukulele. The same Staircase pattern. Lyrics in songs I tried to listen to as a way to ease the panic started to have extreme significant realizations of situations from my past. It was like trying to cling to anything that made sense.
Lights were too bright. Then too dark. Then I was comfortable, but no…only if I held my head slightly to the left and if I looked down at my feet. I couldn’t lie down in bed. I had to move all my blankets and pillows into the bathtub in order to lie down for less than a minute only to get up and pace around, then go right back. I tried all the tools I had used in the past. Happy family photos, memories of good times, changing around furniture, cleaning, eating…you name it. The difference with this panic attack was that it hit me from out of nowhere. Usually I see it coming in the distance, like a storm. This one crept up on me from behind and hit me over the head with a shovel. I didn’t have tools for that.
It wasn’t a very proud moment. I was at rock bottom. When I called my sister to tell her I was unwell…I burst into tears when she said “I’m coming. I’ve got you.” It was as if I needed to hear someone say that my whole entire life. I needed to let go in that moment. Just completely fall apart in so many ways. My sister, my twin sister, who hates being around people and buying tickets, and going to places she doesn’t really know fucking got on a train and travelled 5.5 hours to come and see me.
What a trooper. She took me to the hospital where I talked with a mental health doctor. It was the best 2 hours of my life. I was slowly coming back to myself at that point. I still felt very disconnected from my body, but I knew how to be me. The organized, well-spoken, smart, clever, funny person that I am.
Back home, the panic attacks had subsided, but the anxiety of going through all that again was high. And I had more panic attacks. My sister would hold me tight and promise me that I wasn’t going to be like this forever. It helped immensely.
After slowly easing my way back into work, I’d finally gotten back into a comfortable spot. But with the second wave coming in, things are up in the air again. My shifts have been slashed in half. My emergency savings are dwindling. Random payments for life things (new license, new winter tires, dentist, etc) are popping up. If things continue like this…I don’t know if I’ll be able to maintain this life here. It might not be realistic to live on my own any more. Or I could continue to live alone…but at what cost?
Things to think about.
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