Anxiety sucks. It's frustrating and annoying and it doesn't make any sense. You know that, you understand that, but there it is.
This weekend, I drove a high school volleyball team to a tourney. I was at the bus lot 45 minutes before my pick up time to pre-trip the bus and headed out. Everyone was on the bus pretty quickly and we left the school right on time. In a car, the trip takes about three quarters of an hour, but on a school bus rocked out with a 58mph governor, we needed that extra quarter. After dropping the team off at the gym doors and giving the coach my cell number, I headed out to the edge of the parking lot.
Now, when I picked up my trip sheet from our trip coordinator the day before, I had asked if I was supposed to drop them off and then be back to pick them up. She said that I needed to stay for the day. I wanted to ask if it was ok to leave for a little bit to get something for lunch and then come back, but questions scare me. I could have called her and asked for clarification one I parked the bus. That would have made sense. I just can't seem to ask questions if there is any other option. I had already used up my stores of bravado by asking about leaving in the first place. Going for a follow up was just too much. I didn't want to look incompetent. I didn't want to seem like a bother. I didn't want to pester her. It was her day off. I could give you a dozen more reasons but the truth remains the same. I was scared.
There is no logical reason for this fear. I know that, but it's still there. Our trip coordinator is a super nice lady. I had to call her early in the morning on my last trip to ask a question and she was as cheerful as ever and even thanked me for checking in. There was absolutely no reason to be afraid.
Regardless, I sat on the bus all morning. I read most of the book I brought and I ate my snack. I wore a red shirt, to show support for the team I drove for, and I thought I might go in and watch some of the matches. I thought maybe I could grab lunch at the concession stand. I was hungry, bored and I really needed to pee, but I kept on reading just to stay on the bus. I had been sitting on the parked bus since eight. It was after one. I had quit drinking my water because I already had to pee and was hoping that the urge would pass. I thought maybe I'd wait until I got home, around five or six.
At this point, I was forced to admit to myself that I was afraid to get off the bus. I pride myself on being a good driver and I'm in charge on the bus. I know how things are supposed to work. I am in my comfort zone. I was hiding out in a gigantic, square, yellow, security blanket. Damn. :(
You would think that coming to this realization would have motivated me. Instead, it made me feel crappy and jump started the inertia. . . you know, an object on the bus tends to stay on the bus?
Thank God for my Dan. Dan was at McDonald's playplace with Livi. They were eating lunch and then he was going to read for an hour or so and give her a chance to play. He called to see how my trip was going and I shared with him my epiphany of cowardice. Dan reminded me of how Ash and Payton used to be afraid to talk to people. They would do anything together, but alone, neither of them would go up to the counter at McD's to order an ice cream or trade in their happy meal toy. We had to put them in situations where there was a greater incentive to talk to someone than to stay where they were. He told me that we, as a couple, are kind of out of the habit of talking to other people and we just have to learn again, like we taught the kids. I love how he joined me in my dysfunction so I didn't feel like such a weenie. My logical brain was convinced. I still wasn't sure it was enough to get me past my fear though, until Dan made me more uncomfortable staying on the bus than going inside.
He told me that if I didn't at least go in and use the restroom, I was going to be distracted while I was driving. He told me to go pee, grab some lunch and when I was back on the bus, I could call him if I wanted to. There are lots of reasons why I am blessed to have my Dan, and this was just one of those things . . . He understood me and my hangups well enough to help me in a practical way.
I got off the phone. I grabbed my cash, my phone and my bus key and headed inside. After I used the restroom and grabbed a couple hot dogs and a soda, I headed back out to the bus. I was halfway back, carrying my food, before I realized that I was half a step away from running and practically hyperventilating. I really needed to get back to my big, yellow blankie. I forced myself to slow down and breath a tad bit slower and deeper. I congratulated myself on facing my fears. I had talked to the folks at the concession stand and had a pleasant conversation about how the tourney was going. Next thing I knew, I was back on the bus, getting comfy so I could read some more and eat my lunch.
A big problem with anxiety is that it makes normal things seem way harder than normal. A really big problem with anxiety is that it's often best friends with depression. If you've ever had a chat with depression, you'll find that not only is he a bully, but he really enjoys a good game of King of the Hill. My teeny-weenie sense of accomplishment over going into a big, scary high school was just too much for him. There I was, standing on the molehill of pride when SLAM!! Depression knocked me right back down.
Seriously? Getting excited that you used the restroom and bought a hot dog? It's not like you overcame a REAL fear. What were you thinking? Loser! Get excited when you actually do something productive. Besides, if you weren't so screwed up, this would be a non-issue. You wouldn't even have gone if Dan hadn't held your mental little hand.
Not only did depression knock me back down my molehill to level ground, he also stomped me down in the mud on the other side so I was not even back to where I started when I was first stuck on the bus. It's so easy to look back at this and see how silly it was, but it is so scary and sad when you're stuck in the middle of it. My friend, Jenn, said to me, "Oh, no! You slimed yourself." I'd never thought of it that way, but it fits.
The fear of anxiety is a real fear. It may have started in your imagination or your chemical imbalance, but it doesn't matter how it got there once it crashed the party. Every little baby step to overcome that fear is a victory. It is worthy of your delight. It is one more reason for you to love yourself.
