Grocery Store Panic Attacks

Something about the grocery store gives me a panic attack every time.

Even though I go in prepared with a list, I can’t hold it together long enough to get everything on it. I usually end up literally running to the self-checkout stand with less than half the shit on my list. Then I sit in my car and cry like a fucking idiot who can’t buy groceries like a goddamn adult and drive off without everything I need.

Enter Instacart.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

This is a lifesaver. I can sit at my desk (or on the fucking couch!) and sort by unit price to make sure I’m getting the best deal on what I want. In 1-2 hours, everything on my list is AT MY FUCKING DOOR.

NO MORE GROCERY STORE PANIC ATTACKS!!! WOOOOOOO!!!!!

Check out Instacart with this link and get $10 off and free delivery!

 

Triggers

I’m sitting at my desk, The Spill Canvas is playing on the Google Home speaker behind my laptop.

As I’m mindlessly scrolling through Facebook, I stop on a Portlandia skit about organic chickens. The video auto-plays, but the sound is off.

All of a sudden, I can’t hear the music anymore. It’s still playing, but my heart rate is louder and it’s all I can hear.

“What the fuck?” I think to myself. “There were no triggers. None. What the fuck. Oh fuck. This is a heart attack, not a panic attack. It can’t be a panic attack if there are no triggers. I’m having a goddamn heart attack.”

By now my head is throbbing and I’m sure I’m about to die at my desk.

“Fucking stop it.” I tell myself. “Stop being a little bitch. YOU’RE FINE.”

Still alive. Still very much an anxious fucking mess. And now apparently there doesn’t have to be a trigger I can identify to cause a fucking panic attack.

Fucking fantastic.

Leash Your Fucking Dog!

When I first adopted my dog, she loved everyone and everything, including people and dogs.

Then she got attacked by another dog.

Now, she doesn’t trust other dogs at all. (Can you blame her?!) I’ve spent the last several years working with trainers and behaviorists to get her comfortable enough to not growl and snap at other dogs in preemptive self-defense, but her trust in other dogs is forever broken. (Kind of like my trust in men. Gone.)

This morning, while we were going for a walk, out of nowhere, a little dog ran from it’s owner across the street and charged my leashed dog right in the face, snarling, growling, and snapping at her.

I had to pick up my sixty-pound dog to protect her and the little asshole accosting her. Do you have any idea how hard it is to lift a terrified sixty-pound dog in a millisecond while having a panic attack?

How hard is it to use a fucking leash in an area where leashes are required by law?

LEASH YOUR FUCKING DOG!

FUCK!!!

More Yelling

Today was overwhelming as fuck.

STBXH had agreed to continue helping me at work for a few hours each Saturday until the end of the year, which would have made today his last day.

On the way to work this morning, he was driving my car. He was coming up to an intersection where we had to make a right, but he didn’t signal. There was a car coming the other way waiting to turn left, assuming we were going straight because STBXH hadn’t signaled.

“Can you please signal so they don’t wait for no reason?”

THUD. He clipped the curb hard turning right and didn’t respond.

“Can you please pull over so we can check the tire?”

That question unleashed a fire-breathing dragon.

“STOP FUCKING YELLING AT ME. YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO TREAT ME THIS WAY!”

“Do you understand the irony of you screaming at me to stop yelling? I think you should go home. Take today off.”

Cue more rage and screaming about how I need him at work.

I calmly asked him to pull over again. This time he did. He walked the few miles home while I drove off to work. When I got there, before going inside, a panic attack took over my body. The shaking, dizziness, pounding head, and crippling nausea were overwhelming.

I texted one of my friends who helped me pull myself together enough to get through work. I was pretty certain I was going to either pass out or vomit on someone, but I made it through without doing either.

I headed to my friend’s house after work. She immediately gave me a hug, wrapped me in a soft blanket and a neck massager, fed me a good meal, gave me a few ibuprofen, packed me a bowl (yay for living in a legal state!) and gave me a cider. I am so grateful to have her as a friend.