Thursday, December 16, 2010

Proof. Real, honest-to-goodness proof.

Just a few days ago in this post here, I promised you all “proof” that I would change. Today, I have two helpings of that proof. Go ahead - devour it – I give you permission – there are no calories in it. And my God – I think I’ve earned the right to say it tastes freaking yummy.

Before I start - let it be said that I realize that A) I am an over-reacting, over-dramatic human so I make a big deal out of everything and B) hence – most of you will read this and think this “proof” is crap and no big deal at all. But for me it is. And that is what matters.

Proof #1:

First off, most of you know I suffer from nightmares. I’m a worrier and my subconscious goes nutso when I sleep and all my fears come out. Sometimes it makes me not want to sleep. The worst part? Many of the nightmares are recurring so I remember them – in full detail. Which then means they scare the hell out of me when I’m awake…which sucks a big green donkey’s ass.

I’m an organized person…to a fault. I’m a color-coding whore. File folders and binders in my office. Spreadsheets amuck. I have no “junk drawer” at home – every one is organized. On my worst days – if I can organize control something – I can instantly feel calm. I am clearly OCD about this and I can admit that.

With this organization comes planners – one for the full time job, one for each of the PT jobs, one for my personal life and the kids, calendars on the fridge and it goes on and on. I have lists of passwords and account numbers and every important thing that matters to Rambo and I. If I die – he knows the first thing he should do is get my binders and he’ll have everything he needs.

I also have a great memory. It’s photographic and has served me well. My brother has it too. We have the ability to remember stupid things others don’t. When I was in high school, I could take a test and remember the answers based on how I wrote them in my notebook. I could remember what color pen they were written in, where on the page, how I wrote it and what it said…vs just knowing the info or memorizing it. It has served me well.

All of these things serve to feed my intense need for control. I can’t control my stomach, the migraines, the depression, the hives, the sweating, the wanting to throw up and run, the chaos, the stress, the nerves…pretty much I can’t control most things but the things I can? Well, watch out – I’m gonna control them to the bone and beyond. It’s my way of fighting back.

Which brings me to my recurring nightmare. As you can imagine, being lost is a huge fear for me. Walking into a place alone is another huge fear. Not knowing where to go after I walk in is another biggie. I normally research the day before with Rambo or I know I’ll back out altogether. I have to prepare for new events. Even not knowing where to park is enough to make me turn around and go home. So it should come as no big surprise that the first day of school (high school especially) for me was ALWAYS heart-wrenching.

Never mind that I was a teen and everything is heart-wrenching but still. The nightmare is this. I get myself to school. Alone. I walk in. Alone. Even in my dreams I’m shocked at this. I get to my locker. Alone. And then the bile starts to rise in my throat. My palms start to sweat. My face is turning red. I get incredibly hot. I want to pass out. I’m doing my best to pretend everything is peachy keen. And inside I want to die.

I have lost or can’t remember my locker combination.

In my OCD world – this carries the weight of a national tragedy. It is sheer devastation. It almost brings me to my knees…

Not only have I lost control but I’ve lost my precious memory and though I frantically search everywhere – not one single organizational binder is in my possession which would surely have my locker combination in it. All gone. My mind is thrashing inside. I turn that incessant black dial with the tiny white numbers on it. Around and around. Hoping to spur some memory. Why can’t I remember? I never forget. Why do I have to be the one to forget? Why can’t I be like everyone else?

The self-hate talk runs rampant. The bell rings. Everyone scatters and there I am. Alone.

I start out the nightmare walking in alone. I end the nightmare standing there alone. I am different.

How could this have happened? How could I have lost control? How do I fix this? I should run.

My insides are in turmoil. My mind is beating itself up. I’m in shock. And the nightmare ends. I never know what happens.

Part of me thinks some of my fear of Alzheimer’s is in this nightmare. I will always carry that fear after watching that disease unfold and being a caretaker of it. The other part of me knows the dreams means much more than that. And it just keeps recurring.

Until.
Last.
Night.

I walked into school. Still scared as hell but I got there. I walk up to my locker. I have a tiny key in my hand. It unlocks my locker padlock. There is no combination dial. No numbers needed. It is a lock and key.

I have the key.

I am not alone. Nor am I different.

It’s suddenly a padlock. It has never been a padlock. I have never held the key.

Until.
Last.
Night.


Proof #2:

Last night Rambo and I had a Chamber supper to attend. It goes with the territory of the community jobs we hold. I knew friends of ours were going so that helped but still. I don’t usually leave the house once I’m home from work. It’s too exhausting mentally for me. I literally prepared and prepped myself all day to go to that supper. I thought of a million reasons not to go. None were sufficient and I knew Rambo wanted to go. He lives for social stuff like that. He could do it every night. Meanwhile I’ll feel the effects of last night for a good day or two. It’s almost like I have to recover.

So I prepped. I got ready – mentally and physically. I made it out the door. I got quiet and internally grouchy just to get myself out of the house. I knew I’d be okay once I got there. Every part of me didn’t want to go. My head was screaming, “Why do you do this to yourself?”

*sigh*

And then I flipped the switch. We are dressed up. We have a sitter. It’s a few hours. It’s a nice supper. It’s a conversation with friends. It’s the pride in being invited to this affair. I can do this.

I walked to the door holding on to Rambo because it was slick out and I had on my knee-high boots. I might not want to go but damn I was going to look good while I was there you know?

We got to the door. Rambo opened it. Like always. I walked in. Like always. And now in the entryway before the second door – is the part where I step back – behind Rambo – to hide – to not go in first – to follow him in.

Except it didn’t happen. I put my hand on the second door. I opened it and walked right the frick in. I scared the shit out of myself. So much so that I stopped dead in my tracks realizing what I had just done. Rambo even bumped into me. I literally stood there. Frozen.

I walked in first people. I walked in first.

I didn’t throw up or die or fall down. I looked up. I kept walking and I greeted my friend.

Then I texted Jenny and told her I was “anxious as hell” and being the best friend she is? Well after I told her I was anxious – this is what she said. And I quote:

“Hey. See that woman on your left? The one with a big cheesy ass? She’s staring at you. She wants your booooody. She’s seething with envy. And that one guy wants his wife to look as sexy as you. Work it!”

I smiled. And on the way to my table I smacked that guy on the ass.

Okay, not really. But it sounds good right?

P.S. I’m doing my body part post on Saturday….I didn’t forget….

15 comments:

Miss Vickie "The Queen Bee" said...

I am so proud and happy for you!

Tricia said...

:)

Karen Butler Ogle said...

Good for you, Drazil. Every time you work yourself around that block it will get easier to do so. You know now you CAN do it and now is the time to reinforce that knowledge. Plan another outing soon and remind yourself that you have already enjoyed an outing and meeting people. We'll be here cheering you on. :)

LDswims said...

Love it! The proof is in the pudding. Wait...the proof is in the...ah hell..

You are awesome! I've always known you had the key - I'm glad you found it!!!

Dizzy Girl said...

Awesome! So glad you are growing Draz!

Jess said...

That's great, Draz! One day at a time. I am glad you have such a great best friend too! A good support team makes a world of difference.

Lonicera said...

I like the way you tell the story - sort of suspense with a happy ending. (And please teach me how to walk into a room AHEAD of my partner...)
Caroline

amandakiska said...

So proud of you!

Kiki said...

Wow... that is big! Good for you on both counts! Next time you feel anxious about things like that you should remember these moments. Hopefully each time it will get easier!

Jacquie said...

You have come so far Draz! I love reading your blogs, I always come away smiling or crying but its all good!

JourneyBeyondSurvival said...

I love you Draz. :)

Bec said...

Good work, that is the way to overcome by small steps doing things you wouldn't do. Once you do it a couple of times it does get easier.

MizFit said...

xo xo xo

one day at a time
one step at a time.

and here
this morning
one moment at a time.

MrsFatss said...

YOU WALKED IN FIRST?????

Holy Crapballs, I am a mix of awe and envy. I don't even walk into my neighbors house first. My husband teases me about never walking in first. I can't wait to show him this post.

And maybe, just maybe, when I meet him for lunch today, I'll walk in the restaurant first.

Thanks for the inspiration.

Jen said...

I want body parts!!!!!