Monthly Archives: September 2014

Random Happy Memory Post

407638_10150468873891938_681261729_nThis picture is beyond creepy, but it was the only one I could get the last time I was “up home”. We lived on the third floor (where the blue light is glowing) from 1999 to 2001. I loved that apartment. I loved climbing up the creepy back staircase. I loved being able to sit in the tub and look out, well, onto my porch and the alley way. Still it was a great view and so different from what I was used to.

It had its problems. Trust me. This apartment was not updated at all. Not even to 1999 standards! The list of how not updated overshadows how great an apartment it was so I’ll just leave it alone. We lived right downtown. That was pretty cool for me. I loved being able to walk around instead of having to take the car everywhere. We lived across the street from the Genetti Hotel and Suites, Williamsport’s version of the Waldorf. Next to the Genetti is the Williamsport Cultural Arts Center where a lot of concerts and such took place. (I saw and met Pat Benetar there!) Two streets down is the Community Theater League. There is also a great park just up the street and my church was literally behind my building.

I LOVED living downtown. I LOVED living in an old building. I LOVED living in the building that quite possibly housed an office my grandfather worked in decades ago (we were never sure and some family said yes he worked there and others just weren’t sure).

I LOVED waking up at 3 a.m. because the street lights were bouncing their orange glow off newly fallen snow. To me this was a particularly joyful thing. At 3 a.m. no one had driven on the snow or walked on it and it looked like a magical winter wonderland. By the time I left for work it looked…lived in. I never begrudged the mornings I was woken up that early just to catch the fresh snow before it was muddied by us humans.

I don’t think I realized it then because I had a lot of worries on my mind then but I felt so chic living downtown and walking places. I hope to have that experience again.



Reflections on Freshman Year

1496_40445941937_6690_nThis is a hard one for me to talk about but sometimes revisiting a hard past helps in present healing.

In junior and senior high school I would have an anxiety attack every time I would travel away from my hometown. These attacks got worse if I wasn’t around my one of my closest friends and my parents. A ski trip to North Carolina almost got ruined by my anxieties except for having two good friends who helped me refocus on the skiing, one of my favorite things to do. A dance competition to New Orleans the following year was pure torture as I had no friends on the trip and no “trusted” adults.

So imagine me going off to college by myself fall of 1993. The happy picture of me above was taken at Troy State University winter quarter of 1994. I started fall semester at Montevallo University in North Central Alabama. A teeny tiny liberal arts college about 30 minutes outside of Birmingham, AL and about 4 hours away from home.

No friends. No one I was close to. Just me and some of my stuff. No car, just a phone and some stamps (yeah, this is pre-internet/pre-email). I found myself knocking on the door of our residence assistant’s dorm room one too many evenings. I was having panic attacks and not knowing what they heck they were. Really horrible panic attacks. I could barely leave my dorm room much less do much of anything else like getting involved with campus activities. I actually had a panic attack for a new friend because she and her sorority sisters were going to the beach – a three hour drive from school – as part of a welcome to the new sorority sisters.

My parents came to see me a few times and I would beg them to let me come home. I was truly afraid of living at Montevallo. I just knew something horrible was going to happen to me and I was going to die in that backwoods teeny town that was so small it didn’t even have a Wal-Mart. What small Alabama town doesn’t have a Wal-Mart? And if it didn’t have a Wal-Mart it sure as heck didn’t have a hospital, much less a doctor that might understand what in the world was going on with me. The college nurse would give me cough syrup and allergy medicine. It didn’t matter what I would say but panic attacks were just not something that anyone thought of.

The part about mental illness that makes things worse for the person who is sick is the part where we feel ashamed for causing everybody so much trouble. Every time I had a panic attack I relied on other people to help me feel better. I didn’t have a single tool to help myself – I hadn’t been taught them yet – and my sanity depended on other people. The constant crying, the panic attacks, the dependency wears not just on the person with the illness but on the people around her as well. There is a lot of shame associated with having a mental illness especially if it’s undiagnosed and untreated.

I ended up leaving after finals. I transferred to another school closer to home. Being able to be close to the people I trusted helped me feel safe. I was able to enjoy being a college student, to enjoy life away from home. I learned independence. I had my safety – my family were close by in case of emergencies, but I had also gotten well enough to create a new family with the theater students.

This is an unpopular opinion. Not everyone needs to or is ready to go to college upon graduation. Our society forces it – go to college or you won’t get a good job. Go to college or you’re not socially accepted. Much like trade high schools, trade schools, schools close to home, places where the 18, 19-year-old student can feel comfortable stepping out into the world for the first time should be just as accepted as the kids who run off to school half way around the country.

There are so many students I’ve met who are just not ready to be in school but yet they have been told they HAVE to be in school. Have to be. Who says? Is there a law? Sometimes students or college aged people need to just work for awhile, figure out who they are before going to college.

If your student is struggling and is asking to come home just listen to them. Listen to their worries and help them find a place where they can find the strength to get up and get out on their own. Don’t force it on them. And don’t tell them, “This is what you said you wanted.” Don’t make them anymore ashamed than they already are or feel. Find a professional therapist to help too. They can teach everyone – the student and the parents – the tools they need to grow.


A Good Challenge

IMG_5469My co-workers have issued me a good challenge. I’m addicted to soda, specifically Diet Pepsi. I love Diet Pepsi. I sometimes feel as if I cannot start my day without it. Much like coffee people needing their morning Starbucks, I need my morning Diet Pepsi. My lunch Diet Pepsi. My afternoon Diet Pepsi. You see where I’m going with this addiction. One of our students gave me a separate recycling box for under my desk specifically for cans and bottles. Yeah, just a little embarrassing (more than my grammar).


In effort to cut my diet soda intake down my co-worker AG suggested I bring in 5 cans of diet soda and label them Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday.


I’m trying to drink more water. This summer I was at a work event and I got really dehydrated because I hadn’t had enough water. If you’ve ever been dehydrated you know how horrible it feels – light-headed, dizzy, nauseous.


I can drink the next day’s soda but that just means that I’m down a soda. So if I drink all my sodas by Wednesday then Thursday and Friday I am out sodas while at work.


Well, it is a good challenge and it doesn’t make me feel deprived. I did really well Monday-Thursday. Today…not so much. But that’s okay. I’ll just try again. I can make a different decision next time.

Being Rude for My Sanity

how-to-get-through-a-panic-attack‘Tis true. Please do not tell me to calm down if I am having a panic attack. I’ll probably hit you or cry. Probably both. You’ve been warned.

I know what I need to do to get me through a panic attack. And that might just mean that I have to walk away from you, not attend your party, go into a dark room and come out when I’m ready.

In other words, sometimes my illness makes me seem rude. But if I don’t follow what I know to get me through my panic attack (and to lesser extent, an anxiety attack) the hurt will rain down on me.

No one likes a friend/co-worker dry-heaving in the car/office.

I’ve been fortunate enough (I guess…some days it doesn’t feel very fortunate) that my co-workers feel comfortable coming to me and chatting about their lives. A co-worker mentioned recently that I should have “therapist” added to my job description. Sometimes a secretary is a lot of like a bartender-type therapist. You come to us because you think we know where everything is (usually we do *wink*) and then that leads to some belief that we will also listen to your life stories.

But being so approachable has drawbacks. The big one for me: If you have a stomach ache and feel sick to your stomach and tell me about it I’m probably going to lose my shit. I have Emetophobia: “a fear of vomiting. Most people don’t know that this fear is common enough to have its own name. Yet vomit phobia can be a disabling condition which severely limits the lives of those who struggle with it.”

Yeah, disabling doesn’t even cover the panic attacks I used to have. A large and belly-full belch could incite gagging in me. Seeing someone chew their food with their mouths open would create a panic attack. Emetephobia is a real thing. “Some are afraid that they will vomit. Others are afraid of seeing others vomit. Most have trouble describing what they fear will happen if they vomit, or see others vomit, but vaguely fear some terrible loss of control, a catastrophe from which they won’t recover. They fear insanity, death, endless vomiting, and so on. Most times they can recognize that these catastrophes aren’t really going to result from vomiting. But when they feel that vomiting may occur, then they don’t feel so sure.”

So, please, please don’t take offense if I ask you to stop talking to me about your stomach ache and upset tummy. I don’t want to be rude but at the same time I don’t want to have a panic attack. A co-worker today was quite ill. I don’t know what happened, thank God, but after seeing my co-worker leaving the office looking horrible I started to get those feelings of panic. I was taught how to rationalize what is obviously an irrational fear, but I needed sometime by myself to do it. Which I couldn’t get. So I had a conversation with another co-worker, who luckily did all the talking while I talked to myself in my head, and was able to calm down. I did my best not to run in fear (which I’ve done) when I saw my other co-worker. Later I was able to offer a ginger ale. I keep a stash of them in my desk drawer if I should feel queasy for any reason.

Maybe some day I won’t immediately freak out, even if just in my head, when someone isn’t feeling well.


“Overcome Emetophobia: Fear of Vomiting.” Overcome Emetophobia: Fear of Vomiting. Anxiety Coach, 5 Aug. 2014. Web. 4 Sept. 2014.