~Fighting to Live Outside My Head~

I find there are many things in my life I have to explain to people, agoraphobia being on the top of the list. See, its not just a topic I choose to blog on or an excuse to not go to the grocery store, agoraphobia is a debilitating problem that affects my entire family...Especially my kids.

Imagine you are me and the phone rings. The school is calling to let you know that your daughter forgot her glasses at home (for the umpteenth time) and you need to bring them in ASAP. First I get hot like a heat wave took over and is running through my blood from my head to my feet. Then I am starting to sweat and get mad. "How could she forget them?" I argue out loud to myself. "Why doesn't she have her backup pair in her backpack instead of sitting in her room next to the main pair." I realize at that moment that she is only 10 years old and that at that age I forgot everything too...It's not her fault that I am sick. I am feeling like my heart is going to beat right out of my chest at this point. Now I have to get ready. The school is literally 2 minutes away driving but because of the process to get there that occurs in my head, it may as well be a hundred miles away.

I have no time to shower. I must make myself look as normal as possible as I can in a few minutes time. Now my stomach is cramping and waves of nausea are taking over. I am still sweating and believe me when I say that it is hard to put a quick layer of color on my face with blush and foundation when the sweat dripping down my forehead is getting worse. I need to step out to get fresh air but I don't have time.

My hair is, of course, all over the place. Sure, I could throw my pink Red Sox baseball cap on but I never wear it so that will bring more attention to myself at the school than the mess I am in. Now I am thinking of a way to drop of my daughter's glasses without having to actually WALK into the building. "Kevin!" Maybe he is close to home and can swing them over there? Oh my, why didn't I think of that sooner. I am holding my breath now as I dial his cell phone number. The ringing and ringing turns into his voice mail. He is God knows where. That plan is done.

Now my stomach ache is back, the nausea is on the edge of my throat and I am soaked in sweat. I have that cold sweat that is usually only saved for having the flu. "OK," I tell myself, "get yourself together. Its a 2 minute drive, walk the glasses into the school, drop them off and come home. That's it, you can handle this." Now I am wondering as I look in my drawers for something to wear, if I will be able to park in front of the school or if I will need to park in the lot which will take me even longer. I will have to park, turn the car off and walk all the way up to the school for all the classes to see and then ring the bell (this is a safety precaution that I applauded back when it came to the school, back when I was not like this.)

"Don't think about all that!" I warn myself. I know all the things I am doing wrong that is making this harder than it should be-all the thoughts that I am wasting time and energy on that are making this harder than it should be! it's taken me awhile, probably 5 minutes to find a pair of jeans and a blouse. Now I need to brush my teeth again.

All that done I look at the clock. It seems like I have been getting ready for 45-minutes but really only 10 minutes have passed. I am now looking for my purse and my keys. I find them shoved into the back of the closet in the living room where I put them 2 weeks before, the last time I ventured out. My heart is starting to pound out of my chest. I get the keys out,look around to be sure no candles are burning, that the front door is locked, TV off, etc. I am dizzy and the nausea has turned to actual acid in my throat. I stand at the door thinking. Do I have everything? Do I have a car. Oh my God, Do I? I grab the door handle and turn thankful that on the other side inside the garage is no truck which means Kevin took it to work leaving me with the car. PHEW, that truck hates me...

Now I am in the car. I have already stressed wondering if there is gas and will it start since it hasn't been run in so long in this cold. I am relieved to find that it has started and the gas is fine. It is about 35 degrees out and I have purposefully NOT worn my coat so that I will cool down. I catch a glimpse of my face in the mirror. My normally fair skin is flushed and the sweat is glistening on my forehead. I roll down the window hoping that the cold on the 2-minute drive will cool me right down. If I didn't know better I would think I have the flu with the symptoms of the cold-sweating, feeling of burning up, nausea and stomach cramps.

I throw the car in reverse and slowly steer down the long driveway. At the end I look up and down the road and in my rear view mirror at the road that is almost parallel to my driveway then up the street again. I swing the car back then click it into drive. Before I can take off a car has come over the hill at about 40 miles an hour and almost clipped the front bumper of my car. Nothing new sadly. Right on the crest of the hill and posted at 25 mph you would think people drive slower. They usually zoom down the road until they meet the Y in the road where the police station is parked in the center.

OK, I am good. The cold air is rushing in on me. My face has calmed down a little and is still red but blotchy instead of looking like a sunburn. I think of the turns I need to make, the intersections and the traffic behind me. I am thinking about the glasses. Did I bring them? Oh my God, did I? Yes, OK, they are here.Wow, my face is red again and my heart is beating so fast. So much for calming down. Two right hand turns and one left literally and I am in the school parking lot. I immediately look to see if the student drop off area is empty and seeing that it is I make a decision to park there. It is against school regulations but because all of the kids are inside I am hoping no one will care. Usually the rule is that unless you are a bus or a parent dropping or picking up your kid that you are NOT to enter this area. Its what they call the "kiss and go" rule. No parking and absolutely NO leaving your car. I pull around the bus section and park.

A look in the mirror proves to be a mistake. The last minute stress turned my face back to red and I am sweating. I am hoping that the 10 step walk to the door cools me and helps my color go back to normal but I doubt it.I grab my daughter's glasses, turn off the car and get out. I remotely lock the car as I try to smooth my hair and tuck it behind my ears.

The feelings that are going through me in that 10 steps are hard to believe and harder to explain. I feel embarrassed for being sweaty and red and full of anxiety, ugly without my makeup applied in a slow and careful manner, ashamed for finding this quick trip so difficult and angry at myself for the same reason.

With a deep breath I enter the first set of doors and ring the doorbell. The Principal's assistant can see me through a camera and buzzes me in. I grab the door and pull it open. Down the hall a few steps I spot a familiar face. It is my great-aunt who volunteers her time at the school. i love and adore her but at the moment she is the last person I want to see. I pray she didn't see me as I take my first immediate left and pull open that door.

Sitting in the office is my 10 year old daughter. She is looking the other way but as she sees me her lips curve into the biggest smile.She jumps up and wraps her arms around my waist and says way too loudly, "Mommy!!! Thank you. I forget them when I was leaving and I forget to put my other glasses in my bag after my sleepover this weekend." Her voice is beautiful but loud and I am worried she will bring too much attention to us. I hand her over the glasses. From behind the large counter the administrative assistant, Debra, welcomes me and thanks me for the trip over. "No problem." I lie. I give my daughter a hug and tell her to get back to class. I thank Debra and walk out the office door.The hardest part is over I tell myself.

As I walk out of the building I am cooler, I am not sweating and I feel good. I almost feel good enough that if needed I could go to the store. I think about that idea for a second. The fact that I left in such a hurry though, I have no idea if I have my checkbook. My pocketbook is behind me and I am not taking a chance at grabbing it. I grapple with the idea back and forth for the next few hundred feet but finally turn my left blinker on and head home. Although I did this, got out and lived to tell about it, ha ha, I don't have the strength or bravery to pull over and check for my wallet. I don't know why I can't do it. Its almost like the idea that in doing so I might find myself in another situation that I won't handle as well.

I drive home slowly,going back and forth with the idea of going to the grocery store, pull in and go into the house. I am mad at myself for not going the extra mile but the fact that I made it through the trip to the school is not lost on me. Things that I used to do with no thought, with no real determination needed, are now the hardest things I do everyday. I have to be okay with myself and not angry that I didn't keep going. Let's face it, when I gave up Vicodin or when I lost my Mother, I didn't let go and get on in one action. Baby steps will work better.

That day I learned that being out of the house is not my anxiety...It's the act of getting ready and leaving the house. All the things that I ceremoniously had to do like shower, apply make up, do my hair, get dressed and get things together to go which were once no problem are now each a project to do leading to the biggest stress,walking out the door.... I have always been the sort of personality that gets stressed when visiting someone when the time comes to think about leaving.Suddenly the idea of leaving takes over my thoughts and I am finding myself going home way early because the stress of when to leave takes over.

Now I am contending, it seems, with all avenues of departing. Does it have something to do with my Mother's death? She was leaving work and coming home when she succumbed to a heart attack and died. It's possible that I am being controlled by the fear of change and death.

I cannot live like this anymore though, NOT as a Mom, wife,friend and person. I must fight this fear, meet it head on and show myself that I am in control. If change or death wants to come in and take me or, God I don't want to think about it, another, at least let me be living when it does, not giving up...

Stacy J. Roosa