Knock, knock, knockin

It started with the shaking. I thought I had Parkinson's Disease. For real. I tried to hide it. My hands. I didn't want to sit down and eat with anyone, etc. When I told the new doctor about it (it subsided months ago), he kind of laughed and said I definitely didn't have Parkinson's Disease, that it was adrenaline. My body was preparing for a fight. My body was smart, just a little too anxious. And, unfortunately, I'm a pacifist. The shaking started before the last big panic attack (in January) and continued for about a month after (after shocks).

I am feeling better. (Knock on everything that looks like wood within reach.) For months, I have been nauseous. Morning, noon, night. Super sick during the Famous Paxil Withdrawal Incident. I have also had irritating bouts with bowels, especially during the mornings. (Sorry to bring that up.) I can only deduce that this is caused by meds (Klonopin now). But this week I have been feeling fine (knock on more wood). I think it's because I got to spend some quality time with my son this past weekend. That's good medicine, right there.

The main thing I can't regulate right now is sleep. Two days ago, I woke up at 3 a.m. My body just woke up and there was no arguing with it. So I drew a graphic of hydrokinetic energy for work (not kidding), then went back to sleep for an hour. This morning I woke up at 5 a.m. No man's land. So I came to work early. In some ways, the new sleep patterns make sense to me. After all, I have never thought it made any sense to eat (breakfast, lunch, dinner) at a certain time. I eat when I'm hungry. So I guess, for now, I'll sleep when I'm tired.

I suspect that there are still bad days ahead. And I'll probably still have some days when I just can't do "it," whatever it is. But the bad days seem to be coming with less frequency and intensity (yes, I know this sounds overly dramatic to some people, but some of you KNOW). Maybe I'll have to deal with this my whole life. But, really, I've already been dealing with it my whole life. It just got really bad there for a while. And now I know how to deal with it better, if that makes sense.

I think the worst was after I had the panic attack in January. There was a major snow storm, and I got trapped without supplies. Bottled water, cigarettes, enough food, etc. I walked to the convenience store the first day. The second day I dug my car out and drove to the grocery store. It was one of the most frightening experiences of my life. I was absolutely panicked about being in public, let alone trying to drive in the snow. I have never been more relieved than when I completed those reconnaissance missions and shut the door to the world behind me again. I hope that agoraphobic shit never comes back!

P.S. A homeless guy asked me for money last weekend. I reached into my change pocket and gave him everything I had, which just happened to include two of my crazy pills. So, in addition to the quarters and dimes, I gave the guy two Klonopins by accident. I didn't realize it until later. Being stereotypically homeless, I'm sure he took the pills. What does he have to lose? He probably took to the meds better than me, started feeling better immediately, and went out to look for a job.