work trip

It’s been a while since I posted. I’ve been spending a lot of time thinking about posting. I finally went on that trip for work, and of course the plan was/is to talk about that – what went well and what didn’t. But it’s now been six weeks since it ended, and I wrote (literally) close to fifty pages in my journal about the experience, and I still feel like I don’t have a firm grasp on what I should or want to take away from the whole thing. The sort of “life lesson” – not that everything in life has to result in a life lesson, but this was so big that it feels like it should have changed me or my life in some fundamental way. Maybe that’s just a fantasy of the chronically anxious – “I did something terrifying and I handled it – aren’t I going to get anything out of it?!”

But nothing is really different, other than the fact that I’m not constantly thinking and worrying about this trip anymore. Which is strange in itself, because it took over my brain for so long. It was all-consuming. Almost every night before I fell asleep, I was going over some aspect of it in my head: imagining what I might say to people, what they might say to me, things I might have to do that I didn’t think I could do, what I’d wear, what I’d eat, how I’d get around, everyone I would have to see, how the flights might go, what the airports would be like, all the many ways things could go wrong. I probably should have attempted to stop obsessing, but it was so comforting, even something I looked forward to on some level. Now that I don’t need to do that anymore, it’s like there’s this giant void in my mind.

And I was prepared for that. I knew that when I no longer had this to dread and/or look forward to, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself. Part of me had been excited about it. It felt meaningful, to be forced by outside circumstances to live and interact with the world to an extreme. To an extent I could never force myself to. Now everything is simple again – calm and quiet, which is nice, but also dull. Time passing and normal routine and no Huge Event looming on the horizon to test my limits. I think if they had suddenly told us at the last minute to forget the whole thing, we weren’t going to do it anymore, I would have been miserable. Incredibly relieved, but also miserable.

In other words, I’m never satisfied. How can you be when you feel two completely opposite things at the same time? It reminds me (again) of what I’ve talked about here before, the connection between anxiety and excitement, between fear and the desire for what you fear. It does seem like the two frequently coexist in me.

I think if the trip had never existed, had never been proposed in the first place, I would be fine. I think I’m happier when my life is calm and quiet and dull. But with the alternative fresh in my mind, it’s very hard for me to let go of the fantasy of having a life that is non-stop excitement, intensity, and stimulation and becoming the type of person who can thrive in a life like that. I’m better off not thinking about it.

Anyway, now I’m home again, and I have all this restless energy left over, and I’ve been trying to direct it towards 1) being more productive at my job 2) writing and submitting poetry.

As for how the trip went, I would say pretty well, overall.

• The closer I got to the trip, the more I felt like the only way I could get through it was to be upfront with people about my anxiety and my limitations. Which I think is a very good idea in theory. Unfortunately, it got a little out of control to the point where I was probably revealing too much (and too quickly, since I was interacting with people who were essentially strangers). Which possibly means that a lot of people I work with now have a skewed idea about just how extreme my anxiety is. And it doesn’t matter that now my mind has settled down again and I’m behaving more normally, because that was their first impression of me, and it’s nearly impossible to correct a first impression.
• Other than that, I felt like the social interaction went better than I had expected. I’m not sure why I feel that way, because I avoided people and I was quiet and when I had to speak, I was almost always panicking that any second I would say something that would somehow ruin my entire life. But I didn’t say anything that ruined my entire life, and other people told me I was coming across as normal (because – see bullet point above – I wouldn’t stop talking about how socially awkward I was), so I’ll count it as a success.
• I had a hard time eating before or during work, which led to me feeling shaky and nauseous most of the time. In the evenings I would eat in my hotel room and feel a little better, then wake up the next morning feeling like shit again.
• Even with feeling sick so much of the time, I did not have any extreme panic attacks and only a couple minor (and short-lived) anxiety attacks.
• I slept better than I thought I would. I woke up early every morning because I was so paranoid that I would sleep through the two different alarms I had set. But it still worked out okay, because I was going to bed early too and didn’t have any trouble falling asleep.
• I was able to concentrate on training. That was one of my biggest worries, that I just wouldn’t be able to focus or retain any of the new information I was supposed to learn, so I was happy that wasn’t the case.
• I work with some incredibly nice people who (many times) went out of their way to make things easier for me. So I’m glad I was more honest about what I wanted/needed than I usually am. I just need more practice navigating the line between ‘self advocacy’ and ‘presenting my entire identity as Anxious Person.’
• There were no major issues with the actual traveling part. I still don’t like flying, especially taking off and landing. But by the time I was flying home I had gotten to the point where I almost felt at ease when we were actually up in the air. 12 flights in about four months, and I finally got a little bit desensitized.
• I’m alive? And still employed? And to my knowledge, I didn’t make anyone hate me. I’m pleased with that outcome.

traveling yet again / exposure

The sick relative that I went to visit at the end of May died earlier this month. It was of course sad but not at all unexpected. She had been sick for a very long time and was continuously getting worse, so at least she is not suffering anymore.

I kind of had this idea that I wouldn’t go back down to Virginia for the funeral, since I don’t share the consensus that funerals provide closure. I had gone to visit her one more time while she was alive, and that was what mattered. I dreaded the thought of having to go through the anxiety of the trip again. But I couldn’t stop thinking about my family, imagining them all going through this awful process without me, and the more I thought about it, the more I realized I didn’t actually find that version of the future believable. It was a weird feeling, knowing I just had to be there. Even though I was still going through my usual indecisive back-and-forth, part of me knew there was only one option and that no matter what ended up happening on the trip, I would be more miserable if I didn’t go. Because I would no longer be the person I want to be (or the person I am?).

So anyway, I went back down there for another long weekend. And this time, I went alone; my wife wasn’t able to go with me. I took a different flight route and went through two airports I had never been to before. I stayed with my family, both to offer support to them and to try to save money and avoid the hassle of a hotel (which was a terrible mistake, and I forgot being around my family for extended periods of time has a horrible effect on me, but whatever). I went to a wake/viewing and funeral, something I had not done since I was 13 (before my intense fear of death developed). I socialized with a ton of people, family and strangers (and family members I hadn’t seen in so long they were essentially strangers). I hung around my young nephews again. All of these things made me nervous and tense, but I didn’t have any panic/anxiety attacks.

When I think back over the past few months, I’m amazed. It doesn’t seem possible that all this has happened, especially in such a short period of time. I am always trying to motivate myself to create an exposure hierarchy and actually stick to it, and I don’t do it - more out of laziness than the fear of it not going well. But life stepped in and did it for me, even proceeding from an easy step (slow-paced planned trip to New York City by train with my wife) to a slightly harder one (fast-paced last minute trip by plane to Virginia with my wife, staying in a hotel) to the most difficult/stressful so far (fast-paced last minute trip by plane to Virginia alone, staying with my family). Throughout all this, the trip I have to take for work (which probably will be the most difficult of all) has been repeatedly postponed and is currently scheduled for mid-September. I definitely feel a lot more prepared for it and confident that I can handle at least some aspects of it, like the traveling.

And it’s not even just that I “handled” all this. Some parts of it gave me such a high. Particularly the last most challenging trip. I feel bad saying that, given the circumstances of why I had to make the trip, but getting on planes and rushing through airports alone trying to find my gate tapped into this part of me I don’t usually acknowledge. The part of me that wishes I was the complete opposite of who I am, someone who exudes confidence and has everything together. It’s really rare, but every once in a while I feel like I am that opposite-of-me person for a little while, and I always, always love it.

It reminds me of this post I wrote a long time ago (see here) about the idea that anxiety is actually a projection of, or in some way related to, the feeling of excitement. I want so much to be able to face any person, any situation, any challenge (and come away from each encounter with the certainty that I succeeded completely) that it makes everything more terrifying. It means so much to me, that fantasy - an unrealistic and probably unhealthy fantasy, I guess - of being perfect and extroverted and effortless and charming. I know I’m never going to be that person, at least not to the extent I want to be, because I can’t change my entire identity/personality. But it’s nice to have those brief moments where I feel like I am coming across that way to the people around me. And it’s also nice to view anxiety as, in some way, an indicator of my dreams and goals and not just as the sick/defective part of me.

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.

traveling

I keep trying to motivate myself to blog about the next chapter, but I think I’m going to have to accept the fact that CYEAT posts are going to be on hold until early to mid May. Because I can’t think about anything but the two week-long trips I am taking this month. So I’m going to write about that instead.

I mentioned in here a while back that my bosses want me to travel to Virginia for a week of training. It was originally supposed to be sometime last fall or winter, but it kept getting delayed. Now it’s finally happening, during the last week of this month.

Which is about the worst timing ever, because my wife and I also planned a week-long trip to NYC that starts at the end of this week and goes into next week. That trip alone was already stressing me out, and that’s going to be the easier one. The one where my wife is with me and we go at a slow pace and she makes sure I don’t get too overwhelmed.

No matter how carefully we navigate it, I know I will experience a lot of anxiety and it will really wear me out. And now I’m going to get back from that trip, have about a week and a half to relax and get back to homeostasis, and then have to leave for the training trip, which will be a thousand times harder. And I’m pretty sure I’ll be spending most of that in-between time obsessing over the second trip rather than relaxing. I already can’t stop obsessing about the second trip even though right now I should be preparing for the first one.

There are, I guess, three major concerns I keep going over:

- The actual traveling part. I hate flying. I hate all public transportation. We’re taking a train to NYC and that’s a little easier for me, but taking a train to Virginia could potentially take a full day (or night) and I don’t want that. So I figure I will suck it up and do the plane. But I have only flown alone once before, and it was in 2007. Pre-breakdown. I honestly have no memory of how I managed it. Everything seems so much harder now. So I will have to fly and navigate an airport, because of course there will be a layover, possibly more than one. Then once I get there, my boss has arranged that the hotel shuttle will take me back and forth to the work building. Screw that. I will probably rent my own car so I can have control over my coming and going. Oh, and also, as of right now, I can’t find a good flight connection, which may mean I will have to fly into an airport in a city a couple hours away and then figure out how to get to my destination from there. And I am not comfortable driving on the interstate. The only solution I can come up with so far is that my mother picks me up (and drops me off again at the end of the trip) because she lives nearby. But I’m not loving that idea either.

- Eating, drinking, sleeping. Any time I get really stressed out, I start doing all of these things less. This always happens to me on trips. I don’t feel well, so I don’t eat or drink as much. I get super dehydrated. My blood sugar is low all the time. I feel weak and shaky and sick and weird. Everything around me feels kind of surreal. But if I try to force myself to eat and drink more, that makes me feel nauseous, especially if I am trying to eat around other people or if I attempt to eat anything that isn’t completely bland. And it starts to feel almost physically impossible, since I have no appetite. After a day or so of that, I’m exhausted and it feels like an ordeal even to get out of bed. But I’ll have to get out of bed, go to work, focus on training, and socially interact with people. I’m thinking I will probably plan out every single thing I’m going to eat in advance and try to stick to that meal plan as much as possible, but I’m not sure how successful I will be.

- The social interaction. I’m not around people much anymore, and it’s honestly a huge relief most of the time, because I have a very strong desire to appear perfect to everyone around me combined with an inability to stop being horribly awkward. Which I think usually comes across as me being rude rather than scared (ignoring people, nervously laughing at things I shouldn’t laugh at, blank stares, sarcasm, and general stoicism). My boss has planned five socializing meals for us to attend. They all sound terrifying. It sounds like a few will involve large groups of people, including many people I have communicated with for several years but who have never met me face to face, so they will probably want to meet me face to face, and it’s too much to even think about. It is my goal to get out of every single one of those. Especially because three of them are lunches on training days, and if I go to those and am not able to eat, I don’t know how I will make it through the afternoons.

Also, I have no way of knowing how many panic attacks I’m going to have while I’m around my coworkers. It’s funny, because I used to work in the building with them, so it’s not like I haven’t dealt with that before. I have had anxiety attacks during one-on-one face-to-face meetings with my boss and been able to hide it. So it’s likely I’ll still be able to hide it pretty well. But part of me worries. I’m out of practice. And then of course there’s the fact that I don’t want to have anxiety attacks, whether I can hide them well or not, because they are miserable and further contribute to me feeling completely exhausted and out of it. But I don’t think I’m going to be able to avoid that. I’m guessing I will have them during the training sessions, when I feel most obligated to be composed and focused, when I know it would be bad for me to leave the room because that is after all what I’m there for. To try to learn something in the midst of all this insanity.

I probably should have fought harder to get out of this trip. I did try to get out of it, but it was a pathetic attempt, because I get too embarrassed to lay out exactly how bad it’s going to be. And I get scared thinking “am I really going to bail on something else? am I seriously going to be this person all my life?” I want to be able to do things. This particular thing feels way out of my reach, but I don’t know. Maybe it won’t be as bad as I’m imagining. I just have to do it. I have to do it, because it’s even harder to handle the thought of saying ‘no, absolutely not, you have no idea what this is going to do to me.’ And part of me worries I would end up getting fired.

I have internalized so much mental health stigma and it makes me feel guilty to even be saying some of this, because I believe people should push back more in these situations and advocate for themselves. I just feel like I can’t do it anymore. I have done it so many times and gotten so many horrible reactions. I had teachers in high school who literally made me cry because they were so mean to me for refusing to give class presentations, even though I told them I didn’t mind taking a zero for the assignment. Wouldn’t it be nice if the automatic reaction was to say ‘that’s fine, there are of course perfectly valid alternatives to presentations (or intense week-long out of state training sessions) and this doesn’t make you a lesser person at all‘? I think society is heading more in that direction, but it’s taking a long time.

catching up

Usually I try to space out any high anxiety / social events in my life. I might have something planned one weekend and because of that make sure nothing else is planned for the days or even weeks around it so I won't get overwhelmed, so I'll have time to prepare before, to recover after. Which makes sense, but it's also something I want to change, because the end result is that I don't do all that much. Or miss out on something I really want to do because I'm already doing something else around that time, and I worry doing both will be too much to handle.

In the past couple months, I scheduled a whole bunch of things close together. Mostly because a bunch of things came up all at once that I really wanted to do. I could have skipped some of them and almost did, but I decided I wanted to see if I could get through it all (while still having a good time).

• 9/11-9/12: An author I love gave two different lectures in a nearby town. I attended both and even got up the nerve to introduce myself and small-talk with the author a little bit.
• 9/14: I went to a pride parade/festival in a city that is about a 2 hour drive away.
• 9/20: I checked out a smaller festival in my town (fall-themed).
• 9/27: I helped out with registration for an event at my old college.
• 10/4: One of my favorite musicians was performing in the same city where the pride parade was, so I couldn't miss that. I got to meet them too! They were hanging around before the show, talking to fans.
• 10/18: I went to see a dance performance in a nearby city.

It was a complete success! I did all of the above without any serious anxiety attacks. There were of course moments of panic, but they were brief. For the most part, it was just excitement and happiness and fun. So much fun. They were all amazing experiences, and I am glad I didn't miss a single one of them.

Now it's starting to get colder (I think it may have even snowed a bit already), so I'm not feeling like going out as much. Although the dance performance was so amazing, I am thinking about seeing The Nutcracker ballet in December.

I've been considering moving this blog over to tumblr. I finally got into that website this year and have been spending a lot of time over there. It seems like it has more of an emetophobia community. Also, the formatting on this site has always driven me crazy. But I'm not entirely sure what I'm going to do yet. I might just post my updates both places.   

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.

when in doubt, say yes

There hasn't been much change with my phobia lately. I still feel "sick" at least once a day, usually when I know I have to go somewhere soon or I'm already out somewhere. Or when it's early morning and I've woken up for some reason and want to get back to sleep.

For the most part, I don't feel a lot of anxiety, and I've also gotten way better at ignoring the fake sick feelings and moving on. But it feels like I've hit a plateau and can't get to the next level. I never want to do anything but sit around at home. I have to be talked into going anywhere. I'm even anxious at the thought of going on a walk around the neighborhood, because what if I start feeling ill and I'm several blocks away from home?

I have to keep reminding myself that this isn't new at all. I have been reluctant to leave the house almost my entire life. My friends in middle and high school usually had to talk me into going to the movies with them. I would always worry about it, especially if there were going to be people there who didn't know me that well and didn't know about my anxiety issues. What would they think if I started panicking? In other words, it's an ingrained habit to want to say no, one that may take a long time to change.

I guess I'm lucky in that I've always been aware that if I didn't keep forcing myself to do these things, day after day, year after year, it would quickly lead to very bad consequences (as in being unable to even walk out my front door). I've always told myself things like "you have to do this. You didn't do the last three things. Now do this one because none of them are ever going to be safe enough."

I do feel like I've gotten worse with regards to my tendency to want to be home. I lost the momentum I had in school, having a larger circle of friends, people who always wanted to hang out, events to go to, classes to attend. I started working from home, and now it sometimes feels like I don't even know how to be in public anymore.

But I also think I've gotten better in the past couple years at forcing myself to go out when the opportunity arises. It's definitely been my mantra this year - "when in doubt, say yes." If I'm unsure about doing something, if I'm thinking things like "I'm anxious about the idea of going to hang out with people" or "what if I get sick on this car ride?" or "what if this other bad thing happens?" then I take that as a clear sign that I have to go. That it would be bad for my mental health if I didn't. I don't want to let any of those thoughts dictate what I do, especially when it means I'm going to end up sitting at home watching TV some more. Even though I feel like that is what I'd rather do, and forcing myself to go somewhere else feels like self-punishment, I usually end up having a good time and am happy I went.

It's hard to work up the courage, and I've been forcing myself to think things like "so what if I go on this walk and end up getting sick three blocks away from home?" and trying to convince myself that I believe what I'm telling myself. I know I don't actually feel nonchalant about the possibility of that happening, but it works well enough for me to take the small risk of walking out the door. It works well enough for me to focus on the fact that I don't feel sick at that moment, and if I feel sick a few minutes later, after I've already left, oh well. I'll deal with those moments when I get to them.

It works for other situations too. Like sleeping. Sometimes I will be afraid to go to sleep because I don't feel well. It used to be that I would take that as a sign that I should stay up and wait until the "sick" feeling passed and I could be sure it was safe to sleep. Now I will go to bed anyway, and I tell myself that this doesn't necessarily mean I have to go to sleep. I'm not going to sleep, I'm just going to go lie in bed and see what happens. But once I'm lying in bed, in the dark, tired, I can't stop myself from drifting off even if I'm still half-worrying in the back of my mind.

And eating. I used to refuse to eat if I didn't feel well, even after I realized that lack of eating (low blood sugar) can also make you feel sick. Now I'm training myself to go get food when I don't feel well and haven't eaten in a while. It could be low blood sugar. Maybe not, but I'll eat at least a few bites of something and see what happens. Usually it starts to make me feel better and I eat the whole thing.

So basically, whatever my phobia is telling me I shouldn't do, I am doing. I think it's working out pretty well. I went on a weekend trip recently to a place that was a 3-hour drive away. I went to game night at a friend's house. I've been taking walks regularly. I've been saying yes to whatever comes up. I still wish I could get to the point where I actually wanted to say yes, but I may be far away from that point, and in the meantime, I'm happy to report that most of my yes-es are turning out to be fun enjoyable experiences.    

making plans

I've been noticing that I'm afraid of making plans. I've pretty much always been that way. I hate telling someone days or weeks in advance that I'll meet them at [insert time] at [insert place], preferring to either have more casual (non-)plans or to make plans at the last minute. I think this is a result of the anxiety I've always had and knowing that if I make set-in-stone decisions it's harder to undo them later when I become too anxious to follow through. This has happened several times, and it's difficult and embarrassing to get yourself out of something you've already committed to. At a certain point I just started thinking 'I'll probably end up chickening out anyway, why bother?' and I still have that mentality.

It's clearly not leading me anywhere good. For one thing, most of the time I immediately decline invitations, not even wanting to get into the whole back-and-forth 'should I, should I not, what if' cycle of thinking. Then I end up missing out on a lot of potentially fun and/or rewarding experiences, sometimes even beating myself up about it or feeling plagued with regret. It's not even usually regret about any one specific outing, more a cumulative regret at this point, a feeling that I am missing out on almost everything.

Also, not-making-the-decisions becomes a strong habit. When I do agree to hang out with someone, I hem and haw about the specifics, asking them what they want to do, where they want to go, etc. until they have made all the plans and I end up in a situation even more unpleasant. Until recently, it never even occurred to me that I could take matters into my own hands and suggest times/places that would be more comfortable for me. Just the idea of doing so still makes me feel guilty, like it's wrong for me to be allowed to make choices.

I've been trying to stay aware of all this, and today a situation presented itself that gave me the perfect opportunity to break my habit. Someone I know (although not that well) is taking a vacation next week and will be close to where I live. So they emailed me and asked if we could get together one evening.

My first thought was 'there's no way I could handle that, I've got to think of some way out of it.' After I talked myself past that, I wrote her back saying yes and asking what she wanted to do (the habit takes control yet again). Finally, I sent a second response with a specific restaurant where we could meet. It's a place I've been many times, so I know how to get there, what I could eat there, and that I'll feel more relaxed in general being in a familiar setting. Better able to handle any anxiety brought on by the food or socializing.

This seems like such an effective strategy, I don't know why it took me so long to realize it and start taking advantage of it. Now I won't have to spend the next week looking up directions, taking practice drives, or obsessing over an online menu, trying to find the perfect "safe" dish. Not that I should be doing any of those things anyway, but it's nice to be able to take something extremely stressful and overwhelming and turn it into something slightly more manageable, even if it will still be a challenge.     

holiday parties

Merry Christmas / happy holidays!

I know the holiday season can be stressful for emetophobes, since there will usually be a party to attend. Which usually means large groups of people, a crazy amount of food/alcohol, and possible sickness thrown into the mix. I don't live near any of my family (and saw them at Thanksgiving), so thankfully, I don't have to deal with any family holiday gatherings this year. I did have to go to one party a couple weeks ago, but it turned out to be a pretty low-key event. Anyway, I just wanted to share some thoughts:

-- I don't drink ever, so that's simple enough. I just tell people that, and I've never had anyone put up much of a fight about it. If I was someone who occasionally drank, but I didn't want to at the holiday party, I imagine I'd just say I had to drive later that night, even if it wasn't true.

-- There was a lot of food at the party I went to, but any time anyone asked me why I wasn't eating, I said I already had. I've used this technique many times at social occasions. Usually there are enough people so that no one is keeping constant track of you. I have had people respond to my lie with "well, have more!" but I just say I'm full. I don't really understand why there are people that are desperate to make sure everyone they know is fed - whatever the reason, it clearly means a lot to them, so it's easier to tell them what they want to hear - that you are thoroughly and happily fed.

-- I wouldn't worry extra because you heard (for example) your sister-in-law wasn't feeling well earlier in the day, or your cousin's best friend's dad had a stomach virus two days ago, or anything else like that. Because you could just as easily not have heard about it. At the party I went to, I hadn't heard about anyone being sick or exposed to someone sick, but that doesn't mean there weren't potentially sick people there. There were a bunch of people who had children, so I'm almost certain there was a connection to a stomach virus somewhere in that room. You're not in any more danger for having heard about it, and you're taking no more of a risk than when you go out anywhere else, like to the grocery store. Just take the same precautions you always do (washing your hands, not sharing food/drink, etc.).

Try to enjoy yourself as much as possible! Laughter, relaxation, and socializing are all good for your overall health.