Take a deep breath

I went to bed at midnight and sat up staring at the wall at 2 AM. “Are you okay?” She leaned up, rubbing one eye, clearly having been asleep seconds earlier. “Yeah, just amped up, nervous about going. My heart is racing. Its okay, go back to sleep” It was the truth, but only part of the truth as I felt much worse. It felt like my world was crashing. I walked downstairs for a quick drink of water. “Just stay home if you’re not feeling well.” She was still awake when I returned. I glanced at the clock, the flight was 5:30 AM so only a couple hours of sleep possible besides possibly sleeping on the plane. Not going meant failing and I don't do that. “I’m okay, I just can’t get my mind to stop.” I stopped myself from saying more, from saying I felt panic, that I wanted no part of sitting on an airplane, that I actually wanted no part of anything, that I wanted to run out the front door and keep running. I didn’t mention that I felt like my heart was going to burtst through my chest at any moment, I absently placed my palm on my chest. I was scared, scared to travel, scared to sleep, scared to drive, scared to live, but that’s hard to admit - even to myself. It seems like whining and really made no sense and sounded silly when I repeated it in my head. I pushed it all further down and tried sleep, knowing it would never happen. The 4:45 alarm hurt as much as a punch in the face although I wasn't really asleep. I fumbled with it to ensure it was turned off as my feet hit the floor. I sat motionless staring at the wall, still time to cancel and lie down, perhaps call a doctor, perhaps scream. Nope, I summoned my father and “sucked it up” as he said men had to do. I quickly dressed, grabbed my bag, gave her a kiss and was soon speeding down the highway - no traffic in sight at such an early hour. The option to keep driving North to Chicago instead of going to the airport popped in my head, but I locked the doors in the parking lot and quickly walked to the terminal. I stopped just before the moving sidewalk and tried to do deep breath exercises as I popped a couple Klonopins with no water available. I could feel the nervousness or anxiety building as I rode the escalator up one floor and strode towards to security area. I immediately stopped when I saw my flight delayed on the electronic flight board, people behind me cursed and sighed while making their way around me. The delay escalated the situation as I now had too much time to think. My head pounded and I wondered what my blood pressure could be as my temples pulsated. I found a long hallway to the right and fell into a seat, I wanted to lie on the floor in fetal position. I leaned forward, staring at the ugly carpet, searching for something inside me that could make me move in the right direction. I reached deep down inside me and came up empty handed. I looked up at the faces of the people everywhere, I just knew the panic and pain were clearly visible on my face, but apparently not as nobody stopped. Even the police and health workers walked by and smiled in my direction. My body was covered in sweat, I could feel my left hand shaking and my heart was winning a race with nobody. I leaned forward and almost fell over, fell back to the seat and stared at the ceiling. I suddenly felt the overwhelming need to be out of the airport - chaos erupted in my mind and spread throughout my body. I grabbed my stuff and headed for the exit, finally I was sure of something and it was to get out of that building. I was sitting in my car in no time - the fallout from the last minute cancel would hit me later. I sped out of the parking garage and back onto the highway, windows rolled down even as outside temperatures barely hit forty. For a brief moment, I felt free, but the emotions returned twofold - stopped and forced fed myself donuts and coffee (I never drink coffee) and before long I was lying in my bed, the house eerily quiet, a time of day I was never there and especially not supposed to be there today. I felt guilty for being there, and it was not too late to do what I was supposed to be doing. I fell into a fitful sleep, wild dreams and one hyperventilating episode. Shame washed over me in the late afternoon. I put on a good face for the wife’s return from her workplace - she was able to go, so why not me? “Oh, you decided to stay home after-all.” She greeted me with predictable surprise as I had told her nothing since leaving that morning. “Yeah, it didn’t go well, it’s hard to explain.” I rested my forehead in my hands, I was embarrassed to have no solution. I fixed things and never needed help. “Well, it’s okay, do you still have that number? That card for the therapist? You should give her a call.” She sat next to me, arm around me.