
Originally Posted by
nothingman00
many of my truly anxious times result from being in unfamiliar surroundings that don't serve alcohol (malls, grocery stores, school). I get all stuttery and sweaty and just kinda freak out. Now, when I have panic attacks, I get truly fucked in the head. I start thinking worse possibility scenarios, like imagining my lungs are filling with fluid or feel like my heart is about to stop. My vision gets blurry and I become even more stuttery and wacked out, My hands and face get cold, yet I sweat a cold, cold sweat. The worst full blown panic attacks are the ones that helped me try to take control over every thing anxiety related. It doesn't help that I like to drink and occasionally smoke weed, since a hangover gives me anxiety and being really, really high sometimes does the same (especially if I'm smoking with people I don't really know---doesn't happen much anymore). Oh, and fucking airplanes... I've had two flights that would fall in most people's "worst 2 flight experiences of all times" including one flying out of Palm Springs on a little 20 person commuter plane (this was the 2002 Spring Break and I took some friends out to my parents' place). I used to love flying. I mean, I loved it. I flew everytime I could... Until that flight. Now, I brace myself for huge thermals coming from everywhere and i can't relax on a flight unless I have maybe 2-3 double scotches before I get on the plane, then another 2 singles per hour on my flight, bare minimum. Oh, and at least 1-2 doubles per stopover, if time permits. Then I hit the first airport bar I see when i get off the plane.
When I flew to Portland for my sister-in-law's wedding, my wife and in-laws picked me up at the airport. I apologized for how drunk I was and just kinda shrugged. My wife's mother came over, put her arm around me and said, "Don't worry. We know that once you hit the airport you've got to drink. It's just a trait of yours and you shouldn't apologize." (They refuse to fly, they drive everywhere). I think I had approximately 15-18 scotches that time but I was coherent enough to hang out at the afterparty we went to, down a few beers, without making too big of an idiot of myself.