A Life Lived in Fear is A Life Half Lived

(You should read my post on my panic disorder first.)

We decided to go to the Amgen Tour of California as an opportunity to see Lance ride competitively since it was his only U.S. race this year, and we can’t exactly afford a trip to Paris. To challenge myself, I decided that we would stay two nights.

I didn’t expect any problems when I planned the trip. My panic disorder was nonexistent in Las Vegas, and I really wanted to watch Lance race. We did all our homework, had a great itinerary, and were good to go.

On the Sunday before we left, I got Very Bad News (VBN). In a way, the VBN came from no where, and I was upset for days. (I can’t talk about the VBN yet but I will soon.) I considered changing our trip but I thought I could deal.

We left for Sacramento and saw one of my co-workers on the flight. I had anxiety but I was expecting it since two nights is a HUGE deal for me. (I haven’t stayed two nights away from home in about ten years.) When we got to the hotel, I suddenly wanted to go home because I felt trapped.

We checked for flights and found nothing that would get me home that night, which cascaded into panic. (You can follow the panic stream on my Twitter.) I resolved myself to being able to stay one night but we’d go home the next day, even though that was the big day of the Prologue.

In the morning we walked around the course and downtown Sacramento. Downtown is beautiful and very organized. We checked out the Capitol, where they were setting up for the race.

And on a rare chance, even though I had made the weekend crap, we found someone to take a picture of us.

So what happened? A part of me thinks I failed and ruined another trip, and some of that is true. But I’m also not realizing what a huge step that was for me. I always try to jump ahead instead of working my way towards a goal. All the anxiety of the week with the VBD did weigh on me, no matter how much I tried to ignore it, and I need to listen to the clues my brain is giving me.

So total waste? Naw. Disappointment? Definitely. But I’ll use to keep working on my panic and will make it up to Aaron soon.

Just when I think I can plan for every scenario, one comes up that I wasn’t expecting. This probably happens to remind me that I can’t plan for everything.

You’re probably wondering if I took the trip. The answer is yes and no.

Aaron and I got up early; we had packed the night before to make sure we wouldn’t run behind. We had two bags, carry on only to go faster, and less chance of something getting lost. I had looked up the airline rules, read the visitor’s guide to DC, picked a place to eat dinner. I was as ready as I could be.

We parked in the long term parking and walked up to the airport. I haven’t flown for a long time but I knew there were self check-ins, and when we found the one for American I stood holding the paper and staring at the scanner. I was scared as hell.

I didn’t want to check in unless I was committed completely to the trip. I didn’t want to regret it in Dallas and try to find a way back down, although I knew that was still an option. But I realized, with Aaron standing next to me, that I was prepared for anything. I had him. I had everything I thought I could possibly need (Band-aids? Check.), and I committed in my mind to do the trip.

I walked up to check-in and the computer beeps at me. Sorry, it said, your flight has been booked. Would you like to check in for the next one? Totally confused, I stood in line for the counter.

I explained to the woman what flight we were on and she said matter of factly that the flight had already been filled. We should have checked in an hour before, because they had already filled the plane. Filled the plane means they sold our seats.

Shocked, as this was not an expectation, I repeated that we had bought tickets. I waved my printouts at her. She shook her head and with no emotion said that the plane was full but we could take a later flight on standby. One that would make me miss the conference. Since I hadn’t planned for this, I told her we’d come back up to the counter.

After talking it through with Aaron, I decided to not waste the airfare for one night in another city. The change of plans shocked me; I just didn’t know what to do, and I was embarrassed by this huge mistake. I sat in the airport another ten minutes to make sure that’s what we wanted, and we left.

I ended up not knowing how to feel. I had committed to go on this trip – didn’t the world understand that? But it ended up that I’m just not that important. And that’s a good thing. I’m not so important that I had to take this trip – no one would care if I didn’t make it. And I wasn’t so important that they kept my seat on the plane. And what a relief that is – I still had the freedom to do what I wanted.

I feel more determined to take a trip now, where the airline doesn’t sell away my seat!

So, I’ve decided to do it – here’s the truth.

The truth is, I started and named this blog after how I am living my life. I am living it in fear, which it is why my life is a life half lived. And nothing, I can gratefully say, is endangering my life, except my own thoughts and reactions.

I have panic disorder. This just means I have panic attacks, sometimes randomly and sometimes triggered. I read that one out of three people have had a panic attack in their lifetime, and most don’t even know it. The closest comparison I’ve found is:

Imagine you’re driving home after work. You’re tired, you’re fighting traffic on the highway. You’re half asleep because it’s been a long day. Traffic starts moving and you’re speeding along. Suddenly, the semi that was driving on your left decides it needs to be in the right lane, but it doesn’t see you. You can’t swerve to the right because there’s a car there, so all you can do is slam on your brakes and hit the horn. The semi hears you, swearves back into its lane, and everything continues.

Your heart starts pounding, your palms are sweaty, your thoughts start racing. First you think that you would have been late for the dinner plans you had. But the more you think about it, you realize that it could have been a lot worse – you may not have made it to dinner at all. By the time you get home, you’re upset but you start to calm down and it’s soon a memory.

Now imagine this feeling coming out of no where. Sitting at your desk at work. Eating lunch at a restaurant. Waiting for a movie to start in the theater. All these feelings rush at you and you think that you need to get away from whatever is threatening you, and you can’t figure out why.

Or, you could start to be afraid to drive near semis. But for many people with panic disorder, it’s not that simple, but we do make associations. And we always fear and avoid the next panic attack.

My association was made with traveling, probably ten years ago. I had a few bad experiences which gave me panic attacks, and I didn’t know what they were. They continued to get worse and worse. The worst of it was in college, when I couldn’t stand to be alone. I was terrified that something bad would happen and the hours would be torture.

I didn’t start looking for answers until Aaron and I were engaged. I decided that he needed to marry a whole person, not one who was constantly living in fear. I started seeing a great doctor (although some of the in-between is actually a funny story for another time) and therapist, and I’ve been working on it.

I have a fear of being backed into a corner; really, of feeling trapped. And nothing felt more confining than being in another city away from home. I feel like if I am away, I wouldn’t be able to get back home if something happened. I don’t know what that something would be, but the moments where I realize this are instant terror for me.

To be fair to myself, I have greatly improved. We can stay the night in other places, sometimes, and I don’t have the same daily anxiety and panic I used to have. But the greatest hurdle for me is flying and staying the night away from home.

This is where my point is leading. This Wednesday, I want to take a trip to Washington, DC. The city isn’t important, and the only reason it’s this city is that there is a conference that I would like to attend there and I want to see if I can do this. But the more I think about it, the more I talk myself out of it.

I haven’t been telling people I’m going because I want to be able to back out of the trip with no excuses. No reason to lie, nothing to tell, because if people don’t know, I have nothing to explain. But that’s why I’m telling you.

But my goal isn’t to make the trip now. I was putting a lot of pressure on myself that if I could go, I would suddenly be cured of this panic. After all, isn’t that the point? But I realized, the point is that I am willing to try this. Think of something that puts you in sheer terror, and then be willing to say, sure I’ll try that. That’s what I’m doing.

So I’m going to go to the airport and then decide if I can do this. By just getting to the airport, and all the weeks that have led to this – booking the flight, making arrangements for our dog, getting Aaron to come with me, agreeing to go – those were all huge steps that I would not have done before. I’ve already won.

I think it’s easy to judge me for this, and that is also my greatest fear. That you will read this and think that I have the easiest problem in the world. If I don’t go, then I’ve failed. I know this because it’s what I keep thinking.

But you probably aren’t judging me, and I am just judging myself. Those are my own worries and fears. I will go to the airport and decide what is best for me, and I will be proud of whatever outcome.

By the way, distraction works really well for me. I just watched “How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days” for the first time and it was great to laugh. If you know some great romantic comedies (and can loan me some!) until then, let me know.

Do you ever get those days where everything seems to be bad news, and you wonder if something is going to always suck? (Or is that just me…) Days like this make me overthink life but I usually end up with it just being a part of living.

Of course, to explain it sounds almost whiny and trivial when you break it out into small pieces, but we all have the issues that compound our lives. It started earlier this week with some small stress about work, and then a surprise call on Wednesday that would take much too long to discuss now. But it was unexpected enough to bring back something I thought I had resolved two years ago, but it turns out I was just ignoring the problem.

While wrestling with the decision this phone call made, I got tonsilitis. Sick enough to stay in bed, but not completely miserable. But still adding to the “life sucks” pot.

Compound it finally today where we went to see a vet specialist for our dog. The wonderful girl, whom I’m sure you’ve seen, but if not:

She is two years old and she is in chronic renal failure. Her blood levels and ultrasound show problems with her kidneys. The specialist’s prognosis was even worse than our regular vet’s – we may only have a year left with her.

So all this makes me wonder what the point is of trying to be happy every day if this sort of thing is never-ending. This week it’s one stress, next week it’s another. How much crap can a girl take before she just decides to stay in bed and do nothing?

But while staring at my great dog who doesn’t feel poorly at all, I realized there is some truth to living each day on its own. I have to deal with today, not with the thought that she might be gone a year from now. And if that was true, if I knew what day her and each and every one of us would go away, what would I do differently? Would I be a nervous wreck each day, dreading it, or would I get up and do something to at least have the memories afterwards?

As much as I excel at being a nervous wreck, I have to get up and do something. If I cherish each day on its own, the thought that something will happen to my dog, to my family, to me someday doesn’t seem as bad. I can’t stare at the last day and forget about the possibility of everything that can happen in between. If I count down the days the vet gave me in despair, what will I do the day after my dog survives and continues to live? I’ll have wasted that time worrying instead of making her life richer, not just mine.

So I will take the crap that life throws at me. I get to stay in bed and mope about it some days, but most days I think I will get up and deal with it. Nothing I can do will change it otherwise, no matter how much money or tears I throw at the problem. But maybe throwing love at it will make it no longer a problem, but a blessing.

(From February 2007.)

We went to the Drafthouse’s showing of the Moulin Rouge sing-along. Not only do I love that movie, I love singing along. I always cry at the end of the movie even though I know what’s going to happen.

On the drive home, Aaron said he didn’t understand why girls cried at that movie. Aaron never cries at movies. I admit that I can easily get so into a movie that I relate to the characters and get lost in that world, which is what the studios want and what I’m paying for, and not everyone does that. But it did make me think why the movie moves me so much.

The point of the movie is “the greatest thing you’ll ever learn is to be loved and be loved in return.” What a beautiful thought, but I don’t know if I could believe it if I lost someone I loved. Which is what made me start thinking on this car ride home.

I asked Aaron, who, if you know him, is incredibly laid back and easily going, what his motivation in life was. What makes him get out of bed? He thought about it for a moment and said balance. I was blown away, because this is a perfect word for him. I asked him what his fears are, and he said he’d have to think about it.

I knew both these things about him, but it pointed out the contrast in us. My motivation in life is fear, which isn’t an easy thing to share, but is the truth. I get up and go to work because I am afraid of being unemployed. I work out because I am afraid of being sick. And part of me, even in my loving and wonderful marriage, is afraid of losing Aaron. My fears are my motivation.

I don’t want to live a life motivated by fear. I hope someday to believe that the greatest thing I’ll ever learn is just to love, but right now I’m going to aim for that balance that Aaron has on my own. I think it’s time to take stock and see what I can do to find a new motivation. I have hope I’ll find it soon, but in the meantime Aaron brings me balance, and I love him even more for it.