planning is good

I had a not-fun experience at the end of February / beginning of March. My wife came down with a stomach bug. That hadn’t happened since November 2006. Wow, almost a decade. Back then we were in college and living in a tiny dorm room together. I moved out for a week and stayed with a (wonderfully kind) friend who had a single dorm room.

After college ended, I was always wondering what I would do if it happened again, because I didn’t have any close friends who lived nearby anymore and would be willing to take me in. There were so many times I thought to myself, ‘I should have a plan. I should know exactly what I’m going to do and where I’m going to go. I should have an emergency bag packed and stashed somewhere.’ But of course, I never packed that bag or made that plan. That would have required facing up to the fact that this could actually happen.

So I was not prepared. But everything still worked out okay, better than last time even.

She warned me early in the day that she was not feeling well and didn’t know why, and she said I should feel free to go. I immediately left and spent several hours driving around in circles, sometimes stopping in a parking lot to text her and see what was happening. There were no developments for a while, and I finally drove back home and was thinking about going back inside. But then she texted me that she had just gotten sick and not to come in.

I had of course been really anxious this entire time, but there had been a part of me that thought maybe I was being irrational, overcautious. So it kind of surprised me to get that confirmation that this was really happening. My anxiety shot up to panic level; I suddenly got freezing cold and started shaking. And I didn’t know what to do.

It was a Sunday, meaning I had to work the next day. So I texted her that I was going to need to come in and grab some things before I left. She said she would stay in the bathroom while I was in there, but I was still incredibly nervous the entire time, thinking she might get sick again and I would hear it. Luckily, that didn’t happen. I grabbed my work computer/bag, wires and chargers, Kindle, and an extra book. I was trying to hold my breath the entire time.

I obviously couldn’t go in the bathroom, and I also felt like nothing in the kitchen or bedroom would be safe, so I had no other supplies. No clothes. No toothbrush or any other bathroom supplies. No food. See, this is why a bag packed in advance might have helped. At least with the clothing situation.

First thing I did was call a hotel nearby, and thankfully, they had an available room. They asked how long I’d be staying, and I didn’t know what to say. I said one night, but I might be extending it. They said that was okay, because they weren’t busy.

Next I had to go out and buy all the things I needed that I had not brought with me. Another fortunate coincidence; I happened to have a Walmart gift card in my wallet that had been sitting there for years (because I don’t usually shop at Walmart), and I had been on the verge of donating it. So I used that, and it helped cut down on the cost.

Once I was settled in the hotel, I was generally okay. I was worried in the back of my mind that I might be sick, and I was always thinking about contamination, so I’m sure that resulted in a lot of strange behavior. But emotionally, I was good. No more moments of panic. The hotel had good WiFi, and I was able to work normally; I didn’t have to take any time off.

I checked into the hotel Sunday night. I checked out and went back home Wednesday morning. Which, now that I think about it, seems like an amazingly short period of time. But it was mostly because of money. Even though I technically could have afforded staying in the hotel for a week, it would not have been a wise financial decision.

I was kind of a mess the first day back at home in terms of contamination worries. Not wanting to move, not wanting to touch anything. It was another work day, so at least I had that to distract me part of the day. And I avoided my wife for several more days. I think I slept on the couch for at least another week.

As ridiculous as all this sounds, it is much better than I handled it in 2006. Hopefully this won’t happen again for another decade. I mean, really, I hope it never happens, but I know better than to expect that.

I still haven’t put together an emergency bag. It feels like jinxing myself, which is obviously not true, and it’s a terrible response (or lack of response). Yes, things worked out pretty well this time, but that was largely due to lucky circumstances (including the fact that I’m lucky to have enough money to be able to make these terrible choices). Avoiding making plans changes nothing, except that I will probably (again) end up in a situation where I’m stuck and have to run around frantically and spend more money than I would have had to. So yeah. I need to stop living in denial and get this done. Be responsible and prepared.

reduce anxiety, save the planet!

One of my new year’s resolutions was to be more environmentally friendly. It is kind of a three-part resolution actually, but it all ties together: 1) I am systematically working my way through my apartment, donating or throwing out objects I never use or don’t need (generating trash is not environmentally friendly, but this stuff I never touch is essentially trash anyway – just sitting in my home instead of at the dump); 2) I am buying less new stuff, making sure to only buy what I need, and to buy digital if at all possible – with the double positive result of less junk filling up the apartment (which helps me) and less consumerism (which helps the environment); 3) I am taking whatever other steps I can to reduce my impact on the environment. For example, I finally bought reusable tote bags for shopping, and I have been attempting to reduce the amount of junk mail I get by contacting the places sending the junk mail and asking them to stop (I’m not convinced I’m succeeding yet, but I’m new to the process).

All this has led to me realizing how many of my environmentally harmful habits are related to my anxiety issues:

• Excessive water usage. I am fanatical about avoiding or killing germs, so I take longer showers than I need to. They are probably around 20 minutes, and I’d like to get them below 10 minutes at least. Even worse, I wash my hands way more frequently than is necessary. I got out of bed about 3 hours ago and have already washed them 7 times, and it’s not like I was doing dirty manual labor, intensive messy cooking, or anything apart from my ordinary Sunday morning routine of eating, hanging out, online browsing, writing. I honestly didn’t even bother adding “wash hands less” to my list of mini-goals, because I don’t think I’m ready for that one yet. I already think a lot about ways I can rearrange what I’m doing to cut out one or two of the hand-washes, but beyond that I don’t see how I can stop washing them when I feel it’s absolutely needed – which, due to emetophobia, is unfortunately pretty often. It is my intention to tackle shorter showers though.
  
• Excessive paper towel usage. This is related to the water usage, because once I’ve washed my hands for the purpose of preparing/touching food I’m going to eat, it feels like the only way they remain perfectly clean is if I dry them with a disposable paper towel (as opposed to a reusable dish towel).
  
• Drinking bottled water. Tap water scares me, even though I know that makes no sense – especially because I will have it if I go out to a restaurant, but I’m never willing to drink it at home. There was a brief period of time (a few months, maybe) I tried using a water filter, the kind that attaches directly to the faucet, but then it broke. Other than that, it’s been bottled water for about a decade straight. Which is so horrible for the environment, and that one is definitely on my list to change this year. I think I’m going to try one of those water filter pitchers instead of the faucet type.
  
• Using disposable bowls and silverware. I loathe doing dishes because I never feel like I am getting the dishes clean enough which leads to spending a frustrating amount of soap, water, paper towels, and time on each one – I will spend at least five minutes agonizing over a bowl that might take someone else a minute to wash. Plus sponges disturb me as much as reusable dish towels. And I am extremely neurotic about my skin coming in contact with ‘food residue’. I don’t know for sure if this is related to emetophobia, but I feel like it must be. This ‘food residue’ anxiety also leads to more hand-washing, because even if a food I ate is not particularly messy/crumby, I can’t stand the thought that the food is still on my hands. If I ate a sandwich and I can smell bread on my fingers, that drives me crazy. I don’t think other people even notice this. Anyway, that is another of my goals for this year – get back to using real cookware.
  
• Wasting food. I’ve talked about this one before. I have serious food anxiety and if my food looks weird to me, my impulse is to toss it. This mostly applies to fruits and vegetables, because they don’t have one consistent way they “should” look (as opposed to pre-packaged food that will tend to look exactly the same every time you eat it), but it can apply to anything – if I open a container of sour cream, and it’s especially watery, that might freak me out enough to throw it away. And I don’t have consistent rules about what is unacceptable; it depends on the day, on my anxiety levels at that particular time. So how quickly I give up on a food and what I consider to be unsafe can vary. When it comes to three different apples with basically the same blemish, on one day I might think ‘okay, that’s fine, I know it’s still edible’; on another, I’ll think ‘I’ll cut that part off, but the rest will be fine’; on another day, I will feel like I can’t deal with it at all and throw it away. Another way I waste food is by taking food offered to me in public – at work gatherings, family picnics, etc. – that I know I am not going to eat, just so I don’t call attention to myself, and then throwing most or all of it away. I think I’ve already improved in both of these areas and want to continue to do so. I try to force myself whenever possible to eat the ‘weird-looking’ food, and nothing bad has happened to me. And there have been social occasions in the past year where I’ve simply refused food; yes, it’s awkward, but not the end of the world.
  
• Wasting resources in general. There are some things I just replace on a regular basis rather than clean, because they seem so gross and germy to me – like bathroom mats and toilet seat covers. I also have (germ-related) anxiety about buying used objects, whether online or in thrift stores or at garage sales, or even accepting something a friend is getting rid of and wants to know if we need. Since I’m trying to consume fewer resources, both of these will have to change. It’s better to keep using something that already exists in the world than contribute to creating more demand for brand new items.

I always find it really interesting to see all the links that can exist between anxiety and something that at first seems completely unrelated to it. Working on my anxiety – in particular, trying to cut down on irrational anxiety-related behaviors – will not only impact my personal happiness and ability to function, but could actually help the world. And vice versa – trying to help the world can (hopefully) force me to become more comfortable with situations that currently make me anxious. That’s awesome and extremely motivating – for both goals!

improvement

The trip to Virginia was a complete success! I seriously can’t believe how well I handled it, especially with all the phobia “triggers” it included:

• Flying, which leads to worries about motion sickness (something I never have a problem with, but I always worry I will), other people getting motion sickness, and catching some illness from someone on the plane.
• Socializing frequently with people who may or may not be sick. I was only hanging out with my family, and they don’t know and/or understand and/or care about my phobia (we don’t really talk about anything emotional, so I am unsure who knows/understands what). So I could not rely on them to look out for me by warning me that they were sick or had been sick recently. It seemed like one of them might have a cold, so that was a little stressful, but nothing came of it. For all I know, it was allergies.
• Spending a lot of time in a hospital. I was mainly there to visit a relative who has cancer, so I was in the hospital with them for a few hours each day. I knew I couldn’t catch the diseases of the people around me, but I still felt “contaminated” by germs. Even hugging my sick relative felt unsafe, but I did it anyway. My parents tried to harass me into eating in the hospital cafeteria, but that was something I could not bring myself to do.
• Hanging out with my very young nephews, a one year old and a four year old. This probably stressed me out even more than the hospital. They were all over me, and the one year old even put his hand right on my lips as soon as I walked in the door. Plus they unpredictably cough on you, and every time they eat, I can’t stop thinking about how they don’t know the limits of what they can consume without being ill. On the other hand, they are so adorable and sweet, and I really had a great time with them. I hadn’t met the one year old yet, and I hadn’t seen the four year old since he was a baby, so he didn’t remember me and was excited to “meet” me and show me all his books.
• Spending long stretches of time away from my wife and my “safe space” (usually home, but in this case the hotel room). I would leave in the mornings and hang out with my family most of the day, not getting back to the hotel until the evening. I don’t spend that much time out in public by myself anymore (since I started working from home). Usually when I’m out somewhere for a whole day, my wife is with me.
• Eating while on vacation. This didn’t go quite as well as it did in New York City, because I avoided eating while around my family. But during the times it was just me and my wife, I was completely fine and able to eat normally. We bought a few safe snacks from a grocery store to keep in the hotel room just in case, but we didn’t even eat most of them. We mostly went out, and I got to have all the delicious food I have missed from my hometown that I hadn’t had in SIX YEARS, because when we went down there in 2011 I could barely eat anything.

I didn’t have any panic attacks or intense episodes of feeling “sick”. No feeling dizzy or crappy because I couldn’t eat. No having to cancel plans because of that. No inability to sleep. And not that much holding back from what I wanted/needed to do. I’m so glad that I went and was able to offer some support to my sick relative and the rest of my family.

Compare this to the way the trip went in 2011 (see post here), and I’m amazed at how much has changed in four years. And I wasn’t even aware of it! It’s so weird to have actual strong evidence that all the work I’ve put into getting better has actually gotten me somewhere. I have often felt like I’m not doing enough, but it has helped so much anyway. I think it helped just to make the commitment to learn to think a different way, because now, even when I lapse into old negative thought patterns, there is that sense that I am doing something wrong which leads to the motivation to get back on track.

It also helps that I take better care of myself physically now, specifically when it comes to eating habits. Trying to eat healthier, plus forcing myself as much as possible to eat regularly, on a normal schedule, has cut down on instances of feeling “sick” so much, and that of course means I don’t get anxious as frequently. Seriously. My stomach used to hurt all the time from going long periods of time without eating, and I just kept telling myself it was better and it was safer not to eat, that not eating had to lead to less stomach pain, or would ensure I was safe from getting sick even if I felt stomach pain. The reality is that it made me feel terrible, and then I wondered why I felt terrible all the time and experienced near constant anxiety because of it.

So I’m super pleased. If I can take trips without having some kind of meltdown, even when they are stressful or short or last-minute trips, that would be such an incredible improvement to my life. I want to be able to travel. My dream of eventually getting to Europe is seeming much more within my reach.

recap of NYC trip

I am home again - for the next week or so. First trip of the month completed, and it went really well. It went so well it was shocking and a little disorienting. Because one of the many downfalls of anxiety for me is that when I expect to have horrible anxiety during something and I don’t, it makes me feel strangely lost. I started feeling like I didn’t know myself, and then I started thinking really irrational things like “wait, do I even have anxiety problems? have I been exaggerating all this time? were all those terrible things I went through over the past few years lies?” And of course they weren’t - how could they have been? That doesn’t make any sense. I wish my mind didn’t only think in extremes.

The trip wasn’t perfect. I did experience some anxiety, but mostly in the realm of mentally obsessing over germs/contamination, which I see as better than intense emotional anxiety or physical symptoms like nausea. I was very aware all the time of the dirty things I was coming in contact with - cabs, public restrooms, train stations, etc. I’m used to feeling like my environment is very sanitized and I had to lower my standards and just try to get over the fact that I was not going to feel like things were clean enough for a week.

I had some trouble sleeping (thanks in large part to the hotel bed being incredibly uncomfortable). And there was one morning where I did feel really nauseous for a few hours and started to freak out. But I managed to calm myself down and decided I would relax in the hotel that morning instead of going out like I had planned. By the afternoon I felt fine again and we resumed our wandering through the city.

Not bad at all, considering what happened last time. I did not spend a night in the bathtub. I did not ever feel like I was going to legitimately lose my sanity.

But the biggest accomplishment is that I ate a normal amount for practically the entire trip. I don’t know if I have ever managed to do that before on a long trip like this. And that may be the main reason why the trip went so well, because when I don’t eat, it makes me feel terrible, and that makes my anxiety worse. Once that cycle starts, it’s hard to stop it.

All of this should probably make me feel more optimistic about the Virginia trip, but it doesn’t really. My stomach still feels like it’s dropping into my feet every time I think about it. I try to tell myself that since I was able to eat well in NYC, I should be able to do the same in Virginia, but then I think I can’t really compare the two. Virginia is going to be a lot more fast-paced and will involve tons of situations outside my comfort zone, and lots of social interaction, and I won’t feel as in control of any of it. I can’t exactly decide to take a morning off in the middle to regain my composure.

I talked to my boss about the social events, and she was really nice about it and said I could skip them if I felt like I couldn’t handle them, but she wanted me to be open to attempting to go to them, because it would be such a good opportunity to interact with everyone. So I guess I am going to try, at least for the first “welcome” event. I’m starting to wonder if it would just call more attention to me to skip them anyway. I don’t know. What’s more embarrassing, being noticeably absent from every social event, or going to them and being super nervous and maybe not being able to eat and having to come up with some excuse for why you’re not eating? I really can’t decide.

work invades my comfort zone

It's been too long since I've written an actual post here. Sometimes I get intimidated by blogging and think I shouldn't bother unless I have something Really Important to say. Which just figures - feeling anxious about blogging about anxiety.

Things have been going pretty well lately. Today I spent hours hanging out in a nearby city (about a two hour drive from home) - walking, shopping, eating, shopping more - without any major anxiety incidents. I started feeling a little unwell towards the end, as I was heading back to the parking garage. But I knew it was dehydration. I am still having a problem with drinking enough when I am out places, especially when I am walking around outside, which unfortunately is when it is most important to do so. I guess it's a combination of 1) not wanting to have to use the restroom in case there isn't one around and 2) not wanting to use the ones that are around, because they are public and thus diseased in my mind. My same lifelong pattern of thinking it's better if I just "shut down" my body until I can be home and safe again.

Despite that, I feel today's outing was a success. And I've also been doing well with the more routine stuff - going out to restaurants, grocery shopping, going to the mall or other stores. I haven't been experiencing anything beyond the mild worry that I might have some kind of anxiety attack.

Since I'm getting more comfortable with these situations, I know it's time to push myself to do even more challenging things, but for the most part, I've been lazy about it. My wife and I want to take another trip to VA to see our families. It's something that has been on the back burner for a while. The last time we went was 2011, and it was difficult for me to handle the trip at the time. I know I would do better now. The only problem is that driving all that way is exhausting, so we are considering taking a train this time.

I don't believe I have been on public transportation since 2008, so pre-breakdown. I probably shouldn't think this way, dividing my life into "pre" and "post" breakdown, but every time something challenging comes up that I haven't done since before that period, I get scared I can't handle it as the "new" person I am now. It feels like that person from 2008 that was able to survive the anxiety of a long train ride was not actually me.

So my wife and I have been discussing taking a practice train ride somewhere closer to where we live (maybe 3 hours away) just to see how I do. Just to prove to myself nothing catastrophic will happen.

Which brings me to this past week, when I suddenly get an email from my boss saying the company wants me to travel to the office for a week for training on a new system (I work from home, but the actual office is in VA). They haven't decided exactly when they want me to come, but possibly as early as the last week of September.

So much for one step at a time! Plus this trip would be much more overwhelming than what I have been imagining. My wife probably won't be able to go with me. Since the company is paying, they will probably want me to fly. I will have to deal with rental cars and a hotel and seeing my family all on my own. I will have to go to work and socially interact with lots and lots of people, something I'm very rusty at. Basically, it's a terrifying scenario that I'm not at all convinced I have the strength to manage.

My current coping mechanism is to pretend it's not happening. And maybe it won't. They have wanted me to travel before and either changed their minds or asked someone else to go instead. So I suppose I shouldn't get all worked up over it until it's finalized.

This is what sucks about having anxiety issues but still being able to fly under the normal radar most of the time. I'm sure no one expected this to be a big deal for me. I mean, yes, my anxiety is always an issue at work because sometimes I'm afraid to make phone calls or to speak up in meetings, but that kind of stuff is manageable. I can be doing badly in those areas and still overall be doing a good job. But I can't flat out refuse to do something they ask me to do because of anxiety. It's not like I've requested any mental health accommodations at work (although this has made me wonder if I should have). Not to mention I just don't want to formally brand myself the problem employee, especially when I have a job that so rarely forces me into large-scale scary situations like this.

On top of potentially having to do this trip, I hate being reminded that this is who I am. I feel like my life is set up in such a way that I can pass for being mentally stable most of the time. Then something like this happens, and it's like 'oh, right.' Other people can casually hop on a plane and go somewhere for a week - or casually tell someone else to do it - and think nothing of it. Whereas my first thought is 'maybe I should quit right now so I don't have to do this.' In general, most people can deal with so much more than I can deal with. I pass for mentally stable because I live in a tiny box where going shopping without getting panicky is a great accomplishment.

I know this shouldn't actually make me think any less of how well I've been doing. I'm just frustrated because I was planning on working my way up to this trip, and I should have been working faster. Whether this ends up happening or not, I should be working faster and harder than I am. I don't know why I expect that life will always proceed according to my super-gradual exposure hierarchy. 

obsessive thoughts

I can't decide if I'm doing a particularly good job lately of living by the "emetophobia shmemetophobia" motto. I guess in some ways. But I've been noticing many areas where I need serious improvement.

I volunteered to help out at an event at my old college this weekend. I was at a registration table for some of Friday and most of Saturday, which meant having to socialize with a lot of people (and reflect on how terrible my social skills are, but that's a whole other issue).

It was early afternoon on Friday when I first got there, and one of the very first things that happened - I mean, probably within fifteen minutes of me showing up - was that a janitor walked by and stopped to inform me that I should be glad I hadn't been around this morning, because someone had thrown up in that room. She of course didn't know about my phobia and was just following that weird custom of gossiping about any vomit one has seen or heard about recently. I don't quite understand why people love to do this - maybe they feel compelled to because of their own disgust over the situation. I've encountered it many times in my life, but this was probably the first time in several years. It gave me déjà vu, because it's always so similar with the person lowering their voice and giving you this sly and almost gleeful smile. I've got something good, it's really really good, it's going to make me super popular with everyone, because it's about vomit! It's stuff like this that makes me want to stay home and never interact with anyone again.

She didn't give too much detail except to say it was "gross" and that it had all been cleaned up, but after she left I could not stop thinking about it. Wondering where it had been. Was I sitting right on top of it. Wondering, of course, if it had been from sickness or drunkenness or something else. I couldn't let it go, and it tainted the whole weekend for me.

My one success is that I still ate, and I ate pretty normal amounts. I'm proud of myself for that, because having heard this story, I didn't particularly want to anymore. I also only had one brief period (about five to ten seconds) of feeling on the verge of panic because of imaginary "sick" feelings. The rest of the time I felt fine.

But I couldn't bring myself to eat in the campus dining hall (the closest available food) and walked to a restaurant in town instead. The dining hall is buffet style, and I kept thinking the most likely way to catch any sickness going around would be to share food with all the students.

What really bums me out about this is that when I was a student there, I ate in that dining hall almost every single day and usually didn't worry about it that much. Now it seems like a terrible and dangerous idea. I've been thinking about this and realizing that my germophobic tendencies have gotten much worse since college. I guess that makes sense, because these days I am usually at home, which means I feel like I'm rarely in contact with other people's germs. That's not true at all. I still go out places, and even if I didn't, my wife does, and other people come to visit here occasionally. I'm not at all isolated, I just have the illusion of being isolated. It makes me feel safer, and then on the other hand it makes me much more anxious about certain situations and places that I used to be able to handle.

Logically I know that someone has probably thrown up in every single room on that campus, and that it was even happening when I was living there. I lived there for four years and encountered plenty of illnesses. I caught a lot of colds but managed to avoid the stomach bugs. Possibly that was just luck. Either way, it makes much more sense that I would have gotten sick then, while living there, than now, when I was just working there for the weekend. But it didn't feel that way to me. I felt like I left the safety of my apartment and walked into a hotbed of various illnesses.

On both days, the first thing I did when I got home was put my clothes in the hamper and jump in the shower. Then I thought about how that behavior has been gradually developing over the past few years, where I feel the need to get rid of all contact with the outside world when I come home from certain places that I feel were particularly dirty or germ-filled. In some of the books on OCD I've read, they talked about how people with extreme germ-focused OCD will have "outside clothes" and then have to change into their inside/home clothes as soon as they get home. This reminds me of that, and while the thought of me getting to that point seems ridiculous right now, I probably shouldn't dismiss the possibility. Which is unsettling.

All that extra anxiety just because I happened to hear about an instance of vomit that happened that day, even though it's likely happening all the time without me hearing about it. It's so difficult to get something like that out of your head once it's in there. It makes me think about how I watched the original short for the horror movie Mama on Youtube a few weeks ago and ever since then, I can't stop myself from imagining her standing behind me at night when I turn off the lights to go to bed. I normally don't let myself watch anything in the horror genre anymore. It was a tiny act of defiance (against my own limitations) that was clearly oh so stupid.

Sometimes I stop right before I flip the light switch and wait until I can think of something that is not scary that will hold my attention long enough for me to get to the bed. Sometimes that works. I wish that technique was as effective in the emetophobia situations, but there is no destination point (like the bed) where it feels like the obsessive thoughts can be let go, so instead I just have to keep reminding myself to replace them with positive thoughts, over and over and over.  

warped tour!

Last weekend I went to the Warped Tour music festival for the first time ever. It's a pretty intense event and I imagine it'd be intimidating for anyone with anxiety issues. With my blend of emetophobia and social anxiety, I considered it a major accomplishment that I even made it inside the festival. Before it opens, a line forms outside that is not really a line at all, but more a gigantic chaotic blob of people moving every which way. It was the biggest crowd I'd been part of in a long time. I was lucky to have two feet of personal space in any direction. As it got closer to the opening time, it was more like half a foot as everyone started pushing forward and compressing.

Also during this wait, lesser-known bands were walking through the crowd asking people in line to listen to their music and buy their CD/mp3. Which meant having to talk to people I didn't know and use headphones that tons of other people had been wearing before me. 

Aside from the stress of interacting with the people, it was insanely hot, which was my main worry emetophobia-wise. I was very concerned that the heat would make me sick. I rarely spend that much time in the sun, and it was 80-90 degrees. I only had one bottle of water that I was trying to conserve while waiting in the line, but then the event workers made me pour it out on the way inside (only one water bottle is allowed, but it must be sealed if you want to take it in). Basically, they want you to buy the drinks and food they are selling inside that is mega-expensive. But at least their drinks are packed in ice, so I was happy when I bought my new water bottle. I could hold it against my neck and get some relief from the heat.

Even though there was a lot more space inside the festival, it was still super crowded with people everywhere. Bands were playing all over the place, so loudly that I could feel the beat in my stomach, which made me worry for a moment that this would cause me to feel sick or panic. But with all this going on, I managed to keep it together and felt really calm the entire time I was there.

I only stayed about two or three hours, because it was just too hot and after a while I felt like I couldn't stand it anymore. I was all sweaty and sunburned (I wore sunscreen but didn't put enough on my face/neck) and started to feel dizzy, probably from hunger and dehydration. They don't let you leave and then come back, so I knew that if I stayed for most of the event, I would have to eat and drink while there. But still I let the habits of my anxiety take over and avoided anything but water, partially because I was afraid of getting or feeling sick and partially because I didn't want to use the public restrooms that were constantly packed with people. I'm sure this contributed to the dizziness/exhaustion I felt after a while that prompted me to leave much sooner than I would have wanted.

Still, I'm thrilled that I went and was able to have a good time for the most part. I can hardly believe how chill I was, especially considering how nervous I had been in the hours, days, weeks before I went. I had been obsessing about this for so long and feeling like I probably couldn't handle it at all.

But as I said in my post last month, I am trying to say yes to whatever comes along and to try things, even if I think they won't go well. There were many times I desperately wanted to back out of going. I was able to get through this because I kept saying to myself "maybe I won't be able to handle the whole event, but I can at least do this next small step." When I thought about calling it off in the days before I left, I told myself there was no need to make that decision yet. When I thought about turning the car around and driving back home while heading to the event (which was about three hours away), I told myself I would at least make the drive, and I could always turn around once I got there. When I thought about walking away when I saw that giant crowd of people standing in line, fanning themselves, I told myself I could at least try joining them and see how long I could deal with that. On and on, until I was inside actually enjoying myself.

Plus, now that it's over and I have a clearer idea of what it's like, I imagine I'll be able to handle it even better if I go again next year. I will definitely make sure to eat and drink more so that I have more energy and can stay longer, enjoy more bands.