You see,

the thing is, anxiety sucks. 

That tightness in your chest, where it feels like someone is squeezing your lungs where you can hardly hold any air.

The shortness of breath because it feels like you can't breath.

The alternating cold and hot flashes that make you want to bundle up and then take all of your clothes off. 

The sweat that pours because of aforementioned issue.

The shakes. The terrible trembling because you're so high-strung and freaked out. Shaking so bad you can barely hold anything in your hands. 

The overwhelming feeling that you're just going to pass out and crumble to the floor.

And then, the crash afterwards. The waves of exhaustion rolling over you after the attack has ended, dragging you slowly down until you just completely veg out or more preferably, sleep.

Now, this doesn't happen to me very often. In fact, the number of times this has happened to be over the past 4 years or so has greatly decreased. As a teenager, I had pretty bad anxiety issues. All the panic attacks, all the time. 

Nowadays, I can count the frequency per year on one hand. It's not too bad at all. Bad situations, extreme nervousness, facing fears. All these things can trigger an anxiety attack. For me, all of those things have before, but don't do it nearly as often as they used to. Now, it's large crowds. Large crowds freak me the fuck out. 

I recently went to a concert; it was a few months ago and I went to see Nine Inch Nails on their opening night of their tour. Were there a lot of people? Fuck yes there were. Was I terrified? Fuck yes I was. I happened to have my anxiety medicine with me (it's an herbal liquid, called Bach's Rescue Remedy) and that was able to calm me down a bit as well. I also was able to get the seat (I bought a seated ticket, not a pit one) right near the aisle so that if I did feel overwhelmed I could get out quickly. Last night when I was talking with my mom about my anxiety flaring up, she asked me how I attend concerts and the like. Well A) I don't do it nearly as much as I used to (living in central FL I had access to tons of concerts and theme parks) and B) I make sure that I can get to somewhere isolated. 

Why is this whole thing being brought up, you ask? Well, I gave into whatever it is you wish to call it and went shopping last night at Walmart for Black Friday (which I renamed Black Thursday night). Had I been totally on my own, I wouldn't have went. I would have left my parents house with a plate full of yummy dessert, went home and got into my nice warm bed, and watched Netflix while nomming on apple pie, pumpkin custard, and pumpkin roll. But my family was going and wanted me to go with them, so I braved the masses and entered into retail hell. And of course, it was the one night I didn't have my purse with me (that's where I keep my Bach's). So I went off with one of my sisters and got a mouse for her boyfriend and a pair of slippers because I knew I needed them and they were on sale. And then I went back to "home base" (the benches by the pharmacy) and watched everyone's stuff while they finished shopping. No, we didn't have a cart or a basket or anything. My levels of anxiety were spiking the minute I drove into the parking lot and there were no spots (I ended up parking on the grass on the side of the store). And it kept getting worse and worse as the night progressed until I could barely stand in line and hold anything. I checked out first and went to get the car while everyone else paid.

We ended up getting out in just over an hour and the whole way home (just over a mile) my mom had to keep reminding me that the speed limit was 30 and a cop wouldn't take "I'm having an anxiety attack" as an excuse for speeding. So we got home and I sat at my desk and held my cats (not all at the same time, of course, my lap isn't big enough for four) and took deep breaths to calm down. I then crawled into bed with my mom (she and Heather were staying until Heather's boyfriend, who works at Walmart, to get off work at midnight) and we watched Disney movies. Of course, I kept drifting off and then waking up in a panic because I thought that they had fallen asleep and forgot Zach. So they left at midnight and I was in for a night of fitful sleep - I tossed and turned and cocooned myself in my blankets and then freaked out and kicked them off and then got cold and freaked out because I couldn't find the blankets. And the whole night, I kept waking up with that kind of wake up that you do when your alarm yanks you out of a dead sleep and you wake with a start and your heart racing. 

To top it all off, I had a dream this morning that my best friend, Chris, married the bitch that he's with. And then that same day that we found out, my mom dragged me to go wedding planning for my sister. It was bizarre and I woke up not a very happy camper, not only because of that but my sleepless night. I had been debating all week whether or not to call in today (the plan was to call in and take a four day weekend). And I knew that I should just go in and suck it up but I felt like hell and my house is a disaster and I could have taken the day to rest and clean. Buuuuut, my voice of reason (otherwise known as my best friend) reminded that I really should just go in and that it was only six hours and I could rest and such afterwards. And of course, I always listen to him. So here I am, halfway through my shift, really regretting it and ready to go home. 

All of this, because of a stupid anxiety attack.