Driving Anxiety

2017 November 18

From a Facebook post by Anxiety & I:

"The thing about an anxiety disorder is that you know it is stupid.You know with all your heart that it wasn’t a big deal and that it should roll of of you. But that is where the disorder kicks in; Suddenly the small thing is very big and it keeps growing in your head, flooding your chest, and trying to escape from under your skin. You know with all of your heart that you’re being ridiculous and you hate every minute of it. The fact that many people don’t recognize or have patience for your illness only makes everything worse."

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THIS! 

This is so true. 

My experience with anxiety/panic has become intensified since our involvement in a seven car collision in late October 2016. I cannot say that I never experienced anxiety related to driving prior to that incident. I can say that the anxiousness was never debilitating before. I could always mollify any anxiety by preparation. If I blocked out a course to follow, I was usually OK. If possible, when time was not a factor, I often would travel secondary roads. The advent of Google Maps and street view, which allowed me to familiarize myself with roads and landmarks along my route, was a definite boon. Yet now, today, well over a year past the accident, I find myself becoming a total basket case when required to drive on certain 4, or 6, or more lane highways, particularly in high traffic situations.

I know that what I am freaking out about is performing a common action (driving a car, in traffic, on a multi-lane highway). I know this is something I have done without incident in the past, and hope to do without incident in the future. BUT, in the here and now, I am flooded with anxiety that expands and grows until the panic is all I am aware of,... well, that, and the tunnel vision, the inability to breath normally, the sometimes crushing chest pain, facial tics - and the fear - and the anger! 

I get angry!

I get angry with myself for feeling this way. 

Angry at other drivers who don't seem to have any fear of anything! 

I get angry with passengers who don't "get it", with family who seem completely unable to understand why their wife, sister, friend, is hyperventilating behind the wheel.  

Angry - mostly at myself for allowing(?) this disorder to consume me and become such a huge part of my life!

I am angry now, just thinking about my inability to simply drive on a multi-lane highway to go visit my pseudo grand kids, my friends, even my nearby family. If I can't get there on a "back road" - a 2 lane road, with top speeds of 45mph, I can't go! Oh, there are a couple of local 4 lane roads I drive on, but never with complete ease or with anything resembling relaxation. 

This is NOT how I planned to spend my retirement! I hoped with free time, would come visits to friends and family; jaunts to the Great Lakes, searching for beach glass. Instead, my panic keeps me prisoner.  I want to be able to get in my little Subaru and drive to have lunch with my friend in Ohio; to visit N and G, outside Montreal; to travel to the UP again; to vacation with my brothers and sister anywhere; to finally meet up with people who have become good friends via the Internet. Those things are not going to happen as long as anxiety wells up, leads to panic, and as in the latest attack, cause me to think I am having a stroke, because of the tics I can feel happening in my face. Those came along with the shallow breathing, the crushing pain in my chest, and tunnel vision. Add to the mix the fact that my brain seems to lose the ability to think rationally, to view the problem and find any solution. Even if the person next to me becomes aware that I am in dire straights, unless they know to give me specific, detailed instruction on how I should proceed, what they say will not penetrate my brain in any useful way. It truly is a nightmare, and when I am in the middle of it, it feels as if there is NO ESCAPE!

When I try to ignore it, to press on, as I did on the way home from the family vacation my brother invited me to share, I ruin the experience for everyone because of my crippling panic. Where the post says, "You know with all your heart you are being ridiculous and you hate every minute of it," that is absolutely the truth! I knew I was NOT having a stroke, as I drove along I-64, outside of Norfolk. I knew I was being "ridiculous" and I DID hate every minute of it! But, I was powerless to stop it! 

Prayers Answered, (Even Unspoken Prayers...)

2017 October 14

Here I sit, in the backseat of the Subaru, while V drives, along the PA turnpike, with Mikey in the front & Davey sharing the back, headed to NC. My anxiety levels are high. My ability to hear front seat conversations is low. Davey is napping. 

My anxiety stems from driving (which I am not even doing!). It also arises from worrying about Ray, Coco, & to a lesser degree, Tubbs. An additional source of anxiety stems from the fact a friend is coming to stay with us in Ambridge, directly from this Corolla trip & will stay for a few months. It's not that we didn't invite her. We did. But anytime there is change of any kind, my anxiety goes skyrocketing off the chart. 

So, as I was sitting here, in my uncomfortable backseat, staring at the back of Vinny's headrest, and fighting overwhelming anxiety that seemed to want to become full blown panic, I remembered the tiny essential oils rollers I put in my pants pocket, 'just in case'. Then, I glanced over and saw, in the seat pocket in front of Dave, the extra, extra copy of "PLAN B" by Anne Lamott, that I purchased at a library book sale months ago, planning to share it with someone who might need/love her words as I do. I think I was currently that person! Having just reread, the first sharing in the book, called "ham of god", I am certain that God's plan was for me to have this book with me for just such a time as this!

I am breathing easier. I offered both prayers of supplication AND thanksgiving. And I am writing, again. 

All these things are answers to prayer, spoken, unspoken, but ALL shared with my Creator, who indeed, hears, listens, and answers.

2011 August 12, Part 1

Our maiden trip in the RV started out to be a little challenging.

First, we couldn't get the fridge to run using gas. Then according to the gauge, we didn't have any propane. Deciding what to pack is always tough with us, because I am fairly minimalist and the DH wants all sorts of doodads. The poor dog was a stress ball. Many things would be simplified if we were currently living in the motor home, as opposed to taking off for a few days. And lastly, the ever present obstacle of getting through the minimum clearance of our gate without any scrapes or bumps.

The drive north on 79 was pleasant. We left early enough that we didn't get too bogged down in the traffic at Wexford. We had one little scare, as an 18 wheeler pulled alongside us. Turned out he was trying to get our attention to let us know that the rear storage compartment door was flapping. Apparently, we hadn't locked it properly. But, it was an easy fix, although pulling out into traffic again from the shoulder was somewhat hairy.

There was something very relaxing about just setting the cruise control, staying in the right lane and letting the world drive past us. We had no time table, no schedule and no "personal best" time to beat. (I tend to compete against myself when I am driving a route that I have driven often. For instance, my personal best to Corolla is 9.30 hours.) But this time, even though 79N is a road well traveled by us, there was no pressure, no race against the clock. We had reservations at a campground and we'd get there when we get there.

When we arrived, the camp hostess, Betsy, couldn't have been kinder. We explained that we would need to purchase propane and she told us that her husband, Jim, would escort us to our site and he would help us with anything we needed.

Jim turned out to be a font of information and anecdotes. And even though I was the one driving, he shared his expertise more readily with Raymond, for which I was grateful. Upon opening the compartment where the propane is located, Jim showed us how to turn on the valve. Yep, the fridge wouldn't work because we didn't open the valve! Go ahead, laugh at us, we did! Jim also shared his hard gained wisdom of the black tank, it's use and how and when to empty it. This is an area of knowlege male RVers enjoy sharing. This isn't the first time one has offered his experience. Thanks, guys, we appreciate it. And I appreciate that you mainly want to share this wisdom with my dear husband.

After making sure we were situated appropriately to allow for ease of hook up and operation of the slide out and awning, we settled in. Water, check; electricity, check; sewage, not yet. OK, we're good to begin this next step in the adventure.

It was surprisingly warm, so we turned on the AC before venturing outside. Greyla was still a little stressed, but calmed down considerably once we had the camp chairs out with her water bowl in easy reach. The campground has a sign, as you enter, "RELAX, YOU'RE HERE". Ah, a motto to be taken to heart.

Gassing Up

Yesterday, Raymond and I took the dog and went for a brief drive in the RV, essentially to get gas. There is a gas station about three blocks from our house, but we avoided gassing up there because of the small area, which would require skills I barely have in the SUV, in regard to tight turns. So, we headed down Ohio River Blvd to a large gas station.

I made the turn off the blvd between the thrift store and the gas station, thinking to enter from the area above the station, thereby allowing us to be pointed head first toward the adjoining street for easy egress to the light and an relatively easy turn back onto the blvd. The thought was, easy in and easy out. Oops! Wrong again! There used to be access. Apparently the owners of the gas station felt the need to fence off that area.

I fear I allowed this to cause some major anxiety. I now had to enter traffic on Elizabeth St and then make a left turn into the gas station. Why is it these little glitches are the ones that mess with my head the most?

Providentially, the gas station was nearly empty.

I decided to access the pump closest to the main road, hoping for a way out that wouldn't involve trying to cut around the pumps to get back to Elizabeth Street and what I saw as easier access to Ohio River Blvd via the traffic light. I should have been focused on the moment, instead of worrying about how I'd get out.

As I turned off Elizabeth into the gas station, I forgot to think about pivot points and how the motorhome turns differently from the Mazda. "C ... R ... U ... N ... C ... H," is what I heard. I had scrunched into one of those brightly painted barriers they place alongside the pumps so that you don't hit the actual gas pump!

I backed up; made the appropriate adjustment and pulled alongside the pump. I was mortified! We haven't even made the first payment yet! At first, I wanted to take it as a sign that we are not meant to do this. That's how much I let this get to me. Thank goodness for my dear husband. We got out, looked at the crunch and he said, "That's no big deal! Besides, now we don't have to worry about the first scratch." I was still feeling embarrassed, but also blessed. How is it that R takes things so much in stride and with an eye to the bigger picture? After filling the tank, which surprisingly cost less than what we had anticipated, R assisted me in checking for traffic so that I could pull out of the gas station directly onto the Blvd, eliminating any need for tight turns back onto Elizabeth St. As we headed back the way we had come, R continued to be supportive and encouraging. Then, as we approached Marshall Avenue and the posted detours, I realized that we would have to make a left turn, followed quickly by moving into the right lane and taking a relatively hard right onto Superior Avenue, in order to get back home. R continued to offer support and even said that I should consider how much easier driving the open road would seem compared to navigating city streets. We made it back into the grocery store parking lot behind our house without further incident. Now, the tricky part where I have to back up through the gate to our yard with just several inches clearance on each side of the motorhome. Then, back the rest of the way in blind,depending on R to make sure of clearance, as the mirrors must be pulled all the way in, to fit through the gate.

We made it!

Seems the most important lessons I learned in that short little trip were: Be prepared; Stay present in the moment; Adjust; Trust R to assist; and Laugh at yourself.

The last one comes as a result of our neighbor who looked at the yellow paint along the bottom of the slide and said, "Hey! You need to sign it! That's what they do at Talladega!"