Panic - Part III

Sunday



In the morning I slept…and slept. My body was begging for energy, for comfort, for stability. So, I slept. That’s all I had left any desire to do. I just wanted to be alone. But, something inside me begged to go downstairs, to be with my family. I had something inside unwilling to give up, dragging my stubborn body back to life. They say G-d is inside each one of us. If that’s the case, then my god was doing just that: being inside, guiding the inside, helping soothe the soul, inflict pain outward, and relieving me of the burden.



Around 11 AM, started getting ready to send Simone and Christian to COCA for her ballet class. I did not want them to leave, but knew that she needed to continue with her routine and have a stable environment, regardless of my shaky situation. I said my good-byes and settled on the couch, with pugs lying lazily around me, snoring the peaceful sounds of afternoon nap. Their warm bodies were heavy, contrasting my racing heart. It made me sleepy, tired, and ready to turn off for a few hours. I closed my eyes, but could not find the avenue to relax. My heart kept racing and my head kept spinning. I decided to refocus and turned on the TV. I still can not remember what was on….I simply can’t. But, I do remember the instant burst of panic engulfing my body, agitating the whole room. Pugs continued to be still, which only emphasized my fear. I picked up the phone and said ‘Come home’ and hanged up. I could not say anything else. I did not want to. I was afraid to agitate him as well. He had to drive my most precious angel home and that was above even the Panic. But, the situation worsened and I decided to call my parents. My dad picked up the phone. He was joking at first, until realizing what is happening on the other side of the line. He kept telling me that everything is OK and I will get better soon. I knew that he meant it, but did not find the strength to believe him. All I wanted at this point is to be comforted, so mom came on the line. She did what every mom would – began to direct my attention elsewhere, telling me the stories that mesmerized me when I was just a little kid. Her words, her tone, the storyline brought me into a dazed state, feeling the tenderness of the moment and welcoming the memories of the actual storytelling back in the days. I began to breathe again. I was able to open my eyes and look around the room. But, I did not let go of the story. I felt it; I imagined it and wanted to be in it. I wanted to escape the reality.



And, that is how I felt Panic.





Limbo week



I decided that in order for me to get a hold of things, I needed to get back to normal routine, come back to the world as it is and show myself that it is only a bump, a small indentation in my journey…I am back on track. I hardly ever stop and let myself absorb the situation before diving into it, however, that Monday I felt that it might be a good idea to absorb before diving. I took Monday and Tuesday off, relishing the idea of being at home, in a safe place, confined to my nest, my heaven. Heaven full of books and pugs, fruit and foreign movies, tea and caviar, sky and air. I felt free to be sick and not be judged. I felt liberated to suffer the weakness of my being.



Monday morning Christian took me to see Dr. Senol in order to figure out the next steps in this thorny path. I came slowly to the door of the office and felt that if I pulled it, things would turn upside down. I could not bring myself to opening yet another door to the Panic World. I did not want to. The blissful innocence and absolute resolve to not deal with the problem made me just about as determined as a coward terrorist in the Al Qaeda convention. I felt scared. I felt…I did….and that made the minute difference in opening that door or turning back. The fact that I could still feel taken me a step further, no matter how incredibly terrorizing.


The office was full of people eager to get done and get on with their pointless non-stop race to get another material possession, to get to work and complete a set of tasks irrelevant of anyone’s well-being, to get…to have…to be…but not to feel. I sadly realized that my hard stop and complete halt of survival has made me feel more acute details of day’s passing and absorb them, one by one. What a relief that was to feel a bit more above the crowd, to have a foundation on which to base my emotions, to understand that I too had a place in this world, even though in a different light.



The nurse called my name, but I did not realize it, until Christian told me that it is time to go. I asked him to come with me. Would not have it any other way. To be able to step into a new place, situation, position would require constant support and love, which he was providing in constant flow. That flow would sustain me through it all.



I could not sit on the examination table. I could not contain my body to be in a still position without feeling the symptoms crawling up my spine, grabbing my chest and emerging from every orifice. Laying down, breathing in the medical smell of band-aids, scalpels, anti-microbial spray and stale outdated literature on diabetes, I could not help but feel out of place. Grabbing Christian’s hand, I slowly slipped into a dreaming state, relaxing, focusing on my breathing. Things were calm, I was OK. I was OK.

The minute Dr. Senol appeared in the room, my sense of calmness disappeared and the emotions took control. I started the tedious fight between being in control and being in despair. Despair was winning, breaking down whatever sense of stability I had left and in a few moments I was having a full blown attack, being swallowed by the monster. Dr. Senol asked us to re-tell the story of the past few days and I could hardly pronounce the words, before fighting another attack. One after another. One after another… Stop, please stop. It did not. She decided to not get the full story from me, but instead questioned Christian. In the interim I regressed to the point of a childish fear and tightly grasped the silence between their words, to feel my little safety net of fighting armament. I needed silence. I needed peace. I needed solitude.



Slowly I was able to get back to somewhat regulated condition, while looking at Dr. Senol’s eyes. She has the eyes full of honey, never piercing, but comforting and soothing. Those eyes have taken me from anxiety to comfort many a times, but now they were not helping. I tried to find that comfort long lost, but to no avail. After being given a hefty instruction on how Lexapro and Xanax should be taken, we were finally back in the car. I reclined and went to deep sleep. I did not want to talk, or to listen. I wanted to be back home…NOW!



Tuesday



Taking another day off made sense, to get into the routine of taking drugs and giving my body a chance to accept the newly present chemical agent to correct its faulty ways and to put me back with the mundane. Xanax made the day bearable and I found myself waiting to take another pill, counting the hours until 8 had passed, feeling the body slip back into abyss to those few seconds when one pill would wear off and the next did not take affect yet. Those minutes of unbearable torture, complete dismay, disgusting feeling of failure, almost loosing the sense of humanity. The day went on, bringing moments of happiness and hours of agony, combined with pure exhaustion of physical and emotional being. I remember going to sleep very early and simply falling into it. I did not think about it. I fell into it without any effort. It was empty, ample and fulfilling. I had allowed my body to relax and recharge itself for what was ahead. I needed Shabbat to come soon. I needed to know that Shalom will once again be part of my being. I wanted to be entitled to it, as much as the next guy. I wanted to exist without effort.



Wednesday


I worked from home, not really allowing myself to be dragged into any of the office fires or complex issues. I wanted to simply remain distant and non-absorbed. I wanted to feel free to stop and go as I please and not be dictated by meeting, appointments, and words. I wanted to fly above it all.



I also decided to take control of my life and let the Panic run its course, but without allowing it to change me. So, I called insurance company and filed a short-term disability claim. I then calmly informed my management of my decisions and discovered that for once in my life I did not give a damn about work. I only cared about what was truly important – the loved ones. I did not care whether I would have gainful employment tomorrow. I only cared about whether I would be sick forever and that was not an option. Simply not. The only option was to get better. I only had to work the next few days and get my workload transferred. I need to take care of my affairs at work in order to being taking care of my self. The very last leap to begin my journey back to ‘normal’. Yes, I was ready to take it.