Anxiety attack, again?

This has not been a good month, some of you may have read my tweets about freaking out two weeks ago working at a concert. I had a talk with Brian and he thought it was stress and moved me to a stand where I didn't have to be in charge. I had a mild anxiety attack, but was able to take my break and finish the night out. But no such luck this time.

I was fine on the way, fine when I got there, fine helping put things away and set things up. Then I just got a strange feeling and I told Cheryl (the stand lead) I felt faint, because I did, and she looked at me and said "You look like you are going to fall!" and sat me down, a few minutes later I went to get some water and one of the other girls looked at me and said "Oh my god, you're shaking" I didn't even know I was. Cheryl called to have someone pick me up, and Roy (supervisor) came and asked me my name so they knew who to pick up. Then I had an enormous wave of intense "I don't know where I am , or what I'm supposed to be doing, I'm scared" sweep over me, and I said aloud "I feel like I'm five", and then started crying - not BIG crying just scared child tears. Like when you get lost in the store when you are really young.

Gina (second stand lead) was telling me that it would be O.K., and that someone was coming to get me. When they did come to get me she helped me over to the cart and told me "Maybe it's the Flu." I know full well it is not the Flu.

I've had these before, but never this intense, and never this many in one month. I think I might have to go back to counseling *sigh*, and they'll find some other new diagnosis and medication to try and fix me. Yes, we've been through several.
S.A.D. (I had been banging my head into the A-frame that holds the swing set up, pediatrician told mom it would right itself when summer came, and not to worry about it), Clinical Depression (parent's insurance paid for a whole five counseling visits after my attempted suicide, and it fixed me. NO.), Postpartum depression (because every new mother goes through it, and wants to smother their baby) and with actual counseling this last time. P.T.S.D. (because of my father, you may read more about that in the last post if you like...)

They keep jerking me around anyway, I bet they've lost my file. Hmm, some history on that, I was court ordered to go to counseling when we were arguing over the children, so I went once a week, for about six months - and it did seem to be helping a bit. Then he moved, and they set me up with someone that sees children?, totally different attitude, demeanor, and hadn't read ANY of my file *gah*. So right, start ALL over, go to see him for three visits, call for the next and "he no longer practices here".
WTF?
At that point court was about a month away. They sent me to this lady that was "taking his patients until they could find the right person" I missed the first one, called again, front desk didn't even know what I was talking about, got through to her, made another appointment, and THEY called and canceled. By this time I gave up. We hadn't even touched on what the judge actually wanted anyway. I didn't even go to the last court date. I really need to quit doing that - ignore and it will go away. It never does.

It just dawned on me that was last summer, because I missed the scheduled appointment to work a concert.

So anyway, I still do a few things that he (the first one, Dana) recommended , and that's writing things down, which is why you see me posting crap poems, and whiny blogs like this.

I liked him, he was nice. He thought we should work on social skills before we even tackled my father. The 90% introverted on the Briggs-Meyer test (I think that's which one it was) had him worried a tad. He'd never seen one so high.

Anyway, it's been a shit day, I want a glass of wine and a cigarette. BUT having them be worth going to town to get? I already went outside, and all the way to work and back today, and I probably won't go out again for days if I can help it.

And Mom wants me to get a real job? I can't even stay level for one fucking shift lately.

Mom's sorting, I'm sad.

You'd think I'd gotten used to the idea my father wasn't coming back over twelve years ago when he was incarcerated.
Maybe it's that Mom finally went through with the divorce that's bothering me, though that was months ago. Seeing all his stuff in piles in the hallway, having her asking me if things are his or ours (me or my sisters), it's bothering me. Quite a bit.
He gets out in less than a month. I haven't gone to see him in at least six years. I don't want to either. I'm still mad, bitter, and frustrated with him.

He's the reason I don't attach, that I'm afraid to talk to anyone. No matter what I said or did, no matter what I got on a paper from school- when he was around I was wrong, I could have done better. Always the underlying tone that he'd wished I was a boy. I did too, he surely paid more attention to them then he did us. (We didn't know why then). It was always during the summer. They all called him Uncle Michael, he took them for boat rides, motorcycle rides, our (summer trailer) house had lots of boys toys, though were girls. Because we were his kids we were always last in line, it was so unfair! His excuse: "You can go anytime" which was never true. We got older, and as they did they slowly stopped coming over, to be replaced by younger ones, never older than about thirteen.

To know that the man who is your father successfully lied to you (and the whole family)for 15+ years is hard to take. To feel stupid for letting him. But he is/was good at manipulation.

Mother said "Daddy adapts."(yes,she still calls him my daddy, and, well, he is)today and I thought: "That's the problem!" and the scary thing is, I think I do too, in some ways.
Example: I don't like leaving my house, groups of people, big empty places, small spaces, eating in front of people, playing group games (because inevitably I am the reason the team loses), or not having a structured activity when dealing with others (if there are "plans" I can concentrate on that and not the fact that I'm nervous, awkward, and stupid).
Yet I did ALL of these things to go see Tom Milsom in Seattle, and I deal with them for my job too. I think that's why I'm sick when I get done, all the "dealing" takes a toll on my body.

Thanks a lot dad, I guess?

The last time I talked to him on the phone all he could do was bible thump. The man coming out of jail is not the man we knew. Er, wait, the man we saw. No one knew him, he was hiding all the time.


First time I heard this song I fucking bawled.


I am an adult, why the fuck am I still having to deal with this shit?

I need a cigarette.

Lyrics for Indigo by Tom Milsom, Tom Milsom - Indigo - Lyrics

If I mattered to you
Then all I would see is Indigo
Nothing else I could do
Could ever make you more dear to me and so

Every green, every blue
Every red, orange and ultramarine
I've seen
Would go indigo, for you.


Every time that I look
deep inside me, the colour's all I see
And my mind is a book
Rainbow painted a story about me

Photographs that I took
that were once black and white would now be free
To be
In shades of indigo for you.

Orange, yellow, green and malachite,
Octarine, light plum and Eggshell White,
International Klein Blue, Maroon,
Azure, Magenta, Midnight Blue.

Harlequin, heliotrope
Tea, tan, turquoise, teal and taupe.
Amaranth and ivory,
Cosmic latte, tangerine.

If I mattered to you
Then all I would see is Indigo
Nothing else I could do
Could ever make you more dear to me and so

Every green, every blue,
Every pink, black, white, grey,
Yellow, mauve and cerise, beige and ultramarine
I've seen
Would go indigo, for you.

I decided to post this because so many people seem to be having trouble with them.
This is from Tom's post for it.