Laura Seabrook's Ramblings

I sort of "melted down" on the dog walk this morning. Usually it's a good time for a form of meditation. I mean, it was nice to see Bobby and Theo acting more like pack mates on the walk, following up each other's sniffs and  and such. But there came a point when, like the next wave on a beach, thoughts about my panic attack at the new year's nightclub come washing over me.

I think two things upset me about that - having the panic attack in the first place, and my friend's reaction to it afterwards.

See we went to a nightclub in particular because there was this bank from the US that was playing live there. They didn't start until after midnight. The day leading up to that everything seemed to go wrong. I was travelling down to Sydney and supposed to get there about Midday. Only everything took too long; I lost my friend's mobile number, and didn't get there until after 3-4pm. I hadn't had anything to eat since breakfast except a spring roll at Strathfield station on the way there. I had allowed time to get stuff on the way, but the both the bus and trains were late, but en route I didn't know that, so even though I had a 20 minute gap at one point I couldn't take it.

Likewise I stuffed up which bus I took to get to my friend's house in Casula, missing another opportunity to get something to eat at the local shopping centre (the bus driver dropped me near the Hume Highway thinking he was doing me a favour when in fact he doubled the distance I had to walk). A confusing and frustrating trip. About the only thing I had was some water and a Tequila before going out. That was probably a big mistake.  We (me, my friend and another friend) got to the club and the band was on in the basement We went down  there and even though I had a walking stick I ended up on a stool. And then my friend stashed her gear under the stool and told me to guard it. Only the stool was next to the stage in front of a pillar, and surrounded by everyone. And it was uncomfortable as shit.

Now she was really keen on the band and what could I do (what I didn't know was that the other friend was sitting at the back watching the bags)? I sat there and let the tension and stress mount up. And had a big panic attack - the place got crowded and I couldn't see either friend and my back was killing me and and I felt trapped and then that feeling like death was coming for me full bore was upon me. I saw Jayne and touched her on the shoulder and then ran for it - I just had to get out of the room. I got upstairs and my mobile rang but I fumbled with it and of course I didn't have any credit on it so I couldn't even answer a text asking me where I was. I sort of lost it when my friends found me and threw the phone away (they retrieved it). I spent the rest of the time that night on the sofa not moving, trying to keep it together.

But here's the thing. The management of the club thought that I was drunk (I'd only had water at the club) and my friends had to stay with me or they would have tried to bounce me out the door. Then I dozed off exhausted and got woken up by the staff (apparently if you fall asleep at a club you're considered drunk as well). So that meant my friend who was keen on the band didn't get to see any more of them, and we had to leave early. She was angry with me and seemed to think that the attack was a "tantrum". I only wish it was, because then it wouldn't affect me so much.

The next day was tense and being told by my friend that I "just needed to take control" really didn't help. It's like being depressed and being told by someone to either "cheer up" or "just snap out of it" - sigh. I had a "clumsy day" where I fuck up and my dexterity drops to nil. Ever since then I've been thinking about what I could have done to make things different. Not go is one answer. Maybe I should have said that guarding her bag in a crowd of strangers was not a good idea. Tell people - wanted to, but I felt ashamed about being limited that way, and was afraid of just such a reaction that I got.

But I'm angry too. At myself most of all. I ought to know from past history that when I pretend that there isn't a problem it guarantees that it will be one. Time and time again when I put myself in a big crowd where I don't know or can't see people I do, I pay for it. If I'm there with just one friend at my side it's not a problem. And here I am allowing that to happen. But I'm also a bit pissed off with my friends. With Jayne because she just seemed to take it as a personal affront and something I willfully do. Wish it was because if that were the case I could just stop it. And the thing is that this is not the first time I've flipped out with her at a club. We went to Blink years ago and the strobing there just forced me out. But I'm pissed with the other friend as well. They have epilepsy but unlike mine they're still having seizures and on medication (I now have "sessions" where I can't seem to speak, or write, or read). But they fucking put themselves out as an expert on it, even though they've never had auras; and they criticized me about having the tequila when they were pumped up on dope themselves.

Wonderful night wasn't it? I patched things up the day after, but I don't have much incentive to go to clubs in future. And today I just feel broken, like (as I was repeatedly as a teenager) that all I had to do was have the "right attitude" and that my issues (which I believe are in part physical/medical ones) wouldn't be a broken. WELL FUCK THAT.

I feel broken. I just do. Most days I carry on regardless, but if I don't accept that one fact it jumps up and bites me in the fucking face. I don't want "to be cheered up" or "snap out of it", nor do I want to "wallow in the problem" (as a few people I know do). But what to do? THAT, is the problem.

Well, today ran true to form. I think in future when I'm feeling sick, I ought to stay home and not go out at all.

Went to uni and got my purse back, that was OK. Went to Wallsend Library and that was OK. Went to a stretch of road for a "photographic test" and that was OK. And then I got to Stocklands Glendale, and it all turned to shit. I went to K-Mart, Target, Go-Lo, Coles and Woolworths. And in Woolworths I was more or less accused of attempted shop lifting.

Not happy, not happy. I was extremely upset over this. I don't shop lift and never have. In fact, I have a huge irrational fear of being accused of exactly this - I always have. I know it's stupid, but there it is.

I phoned Kevin afterwards because I could barely contain myself. Caught the bus home (after thinking that I'd missed the bus while on the phone, but it was the one going the other way). Got home, and got a paper cut while trying to open a box of Panamax - that was enough to set me off kicking and screaming for a bit. I calmed down a little, after watching the last four episodes of Season 6 of Buffy (the arc were Willow goes "dark" and starts killing people).

Not happy. I intend to send an e-mail of complaint to Woolworths, with a carbon copy to Coles. Going to post a draft of this in the next post - I want your opinions before I send it.

It wasn't just fucking up with the car last night that got to me, there was other stuff as well.

( The Other Stuff - long rants ahead )