The Power of a Dress

Sleeping Sickness

I awoke only to find my lungs empty,
And through the night, so it seems I'm not breathing.
And now my dreams are nothing like they were meant to be,
And I'm breaking down, I think I'm breaking down.

And I'm afraid to sleep because of what haunts me,
Such as living with the uncertainty
That I'll never find the words to say which would completely explain
Just how I'm breaking down

Someone come and, someone come and save my life
Maybe I'll sleep when I am dead,
But now it's like the night is taking sides
With all the worries that occupy the back of my mind
Could it be this misery will suffice?

I've become a simple souvenir of someone's kill
And like the sea, I'm constantly changing from calm to ill
Madness fills my heart and soul, as if the great divide could swallow me whole
Oh, how I'm breaking down

Someone come and, someone come and save my life
Maybe I'll sleep when I am dead,
But now it's like the night is taking up sides
With all the worries that occupy the back of my mind
Could it be this misery will suffice.

Someone come and, someone come and save my life
Someone come and, someone come and save my life
Someone come and, someone come and save my life
Could it be this misery will suffice.

Aside from having a hauntingly beautiful melody, this song has always struck a chord in me. A deep one.

"Could it be this misery will suffice?"

I have felt like that for so long. I have fought a war within myself, desperately trying to gain some control. Small victories suffocated by recurring negativity and belittling from my subconscious. Without any opportunity to gain the upper hand, surely I should just get used to living like this, make do and simply exist.

My decision to go to New York was brave, I know that. It was an "everything else so far has failed, so what do i have to lose" leap that I hoped would be the extreme shock I needed to finally convince myself that I really do have some courageous reserves. There was a part of me though that felt I was still trying to cheat and not do all of work. After-all, I had a travel partner and roommates. I knew that the people at BlogHer would be incredibly supportive and compassionate, so I felt... safe. I was left wondering if you do something that appears brave, yet surround yourself with safety nets, are you really accomplishing much? I was afraid that this too would leave me stuck.

What I wasn't prepared for, was just how powerful my experience with Jenny and her Red Dress would be. Yes, I saw that dress as a symbol of achievement and badge of completion, but I had no idea that it would actually make me feel accomplished.

Meeting Jenny, wearing the dress and being photographed made me feel special and honored and celebrated, but it also made me realize the only reason it was even possible was because *I* made the journey in the first place. Afraid or not, i did it. I reached the summit and the view was magnificent.

I will be forever grateful to Jenny for my Red Dress moment, and her post about that experience is going to become a mantra to me for whenever I waiver. It is a testament to that courage that really is within me.

Friends were there to share and celebrate with me and I have been blown away from the supportive and proud comments on Jenny's post. I've read and re-read every one. It's as though each sentiment and expression of joy is wrapping itself like a bandaid around the bent and blistered neurons in my brain. And I really wasn't expecting that. Neither was my subconscious. It's been like a secret attack from an army i didn't even know I had and I've never felt less alone.

Over the past few days, I've cried many tears of gratitude and immersed myself in the warm comfort of self pride. I really think I have reached the apex and though I know that I still have a long way to go, I can now honestly say that I believe that I can and will get better. Misery won't and should not suffice in my life and I don't need to wait for someone to save me, because I have proven with this trip that I am strong. I am brave.

Thank you to all of my cheerleaders, you continue to fuel my confidence and I love you for that.

The Courage Within

By the spring of 2001, my life was barely functional. 

My life circumstances at the time could be considered the ideal for many people; I was about to turn 31, had a job I loved, a great boyfriend, a house and car. The world was my oyster and I should have been able to swallow it whole; with a dash of Tabasco, enjoying its icy cold texture while I licked the salt off my lips. But I couldn't. I just, couldn't... 

Instead of reveling in my life, I woke every morning feeling not much more than dread for what the day might hold for me. I did my best to stifle the fears and negative thoughts that seemed to fester and multiply like mold spores overnight in the corners of my dark and murky mind, but it became suffocating. I was convinced I was dying. I was dizzy so often. My heart raced at random. I couldn't breathe. I saw many doctors, who either told me I was fine or that I was just stressed. None of that made sense though because the feelings of impending doom continued and I felt that aside from the feeling-like-I-was-dying part, my life was great.

Determined, I internalized. Clearly this was all in my head. 'Put on a happy face' I told myself. That mask fooled most of those around me, but it also told lies to my soul.    

Despite my attempts to ignore my inner turmoil and stay put together, my core continued to unravel. I was virtually house bound. Though I didn't have confirmation of what they were at the time, my panic attacks were numerous and as I progressed through my illness they became seemingly constant and more intense. I did anything I could do to prevent their occurrence or at least the severity of their affects. I gradually and somewhat desperately associated my panic attacks with whatever situation I was in at the time and figured if I didn't do those things, the awful feelings of death and doom would go away.

Avoidance became my only refuge. Avoidance became a drug to me. Avoiding obviously dangerous places and situations like cliffs and parachutes makes sense to those of us who aren't thrill seekers. And many of you might even agree that avoiding big crowds and penthouse balconies is still somewhat understandable. I went further though. At first, I only rationalized steering clear of things like elevators, bridges and hospitals (people die there!). Soon though, I found myself physically unable to do the most innocuous activities like going to a movie, or a mall. Even standing in a line up at the grocery store or being in a left hand turn lane became completely unbearable and therefore not doable. No, it was safer at home…

…Until I couldn't even be there alone.

A friend recognized I was in trouble and arranged an appointment with the doctor who would ultimately save me from myself. My lowest point was getting to that first appointment and finding myself stuck in the lobby. I was too terrified to take the elevator and he was on the fifth floor. I couldn't take the stairs. I couldn't possibly get there. It took me an hour and I still had to call the receptionist to come and get me.  I was a wreck. After a proper diagnosis of panic disorder with agoraphobia, medication, a cognitive therapy program and years of very hard work, I am much better. There are a few things I've been stuck on though. A few things I still tell myself I can't do; everyday things and big things. Until this year, I couldn't exercise. A workout would trigger a panic attack and since I was still using my avoidance drug, allowing myself to get fat was the better and easier option. (Note: I’ve been exercising since January and have dropped 25 lbs and 1.5 sizes <-- go me!)

My heart whispered a wish for this year. One that is monumentally important to me and one that sometimes seems impossible. I wanted this year to be MY year; the year that I finally win and get my freedom back. I pretty much missed my thirties. That makes me sadder than I can ever explain. For years I wished I could borrow other people's courage to do the mundane. Most recently, I’ve wanted to borrow courage to do the big important things too; but I knew courage couldn't be borrowed. I knew I needed to find it myself or live like this -stuck- for the rest of my life.

My husband and I mused about taking a trip to New York to celebrate me turning 40 this year. I was excited enough about the prospect, but then it was announced that BlogHer 2010 was going to be in New York City! I got goosebumps. I bought a ticket to BlogHer the day they went on sale and started planning our family trip to New York! Until January anyway, when my husband had his biggest annual contract cut in half. There would be no way for all three of us to take this trip now. My husband flippantly suggested with a chuckle that I go by myself. Yeah, right...

But then? Something magical happened.

I started thinking about the possibilities. My want... no, my need to go to this conference became bigger than the sum of my fears. I found awesome roommates. I found someone equally awesome to travel with. I RSVP'd for parties. Of course, until this week, I’ve had back-out plans stowed away just incase I changed my mind at the last minute, but I’m not going to do that! I will be booking my flight this week and finalize my plans to go to New York! On my own! To meet people who don't know me yet, but people I adore.   

Most importantly though? I'm going so I can meet myself. I’ve missed me for too long. I'm going to take a big slobbery bite out of the Big Apple. I’m still terrified. But the support and encouragement I’ve received from this community (especially over the past week) has convinced me that I definitely can’t borrow courage from other people… instead though, I’ve realized that wonderful people will guide you to find your own courage within and hold your hand while they help you celebrate it.

I may even get to try on a red dress…