I don't remember a whole lot of Monday afternoon. And I'm missing big chunks of time from yesterday.
My daughter nearly caused me a panic attack. It took everything I had to fight it off until Odysseus got home and could take over, and I could do something to derail it. Which is why I don't remember Monday.
I took the pixie with me to pick up the imp. We were a bit later than normal, and she was cranky because she'd refused to go to sleep until around a quarter after two (we leave no later than 2:45, most days, and she'd stretched it until 2:50). I parked on the opposite side of the parking lot from usual, and she barely paid attention. We snagged her brother as he was released by his teacher, and I took them to the car. I let go of the pixie's hand so she could get in the car, and she started to run to where we usually park...across the parking lot. I screamed at her, and she froze--thank God; there was some fucking oblivious cunt actually speeding in the parking lot (probably doing a solid thirty mph while twisted around yelling at the kids in the back of the minivan/giant SUV), and would have creamed the pixie if she hadn't stopped.
I'm prone to panic attacks. Used to have them all the time. My biggest triggers were my dad or anything to do with him (he's dead, so that trigger's gone), CPS/Family Services, cops, and feeling helpless.
The feeling helpless thing? Yeah, that's still a trigger. A big one. And there was literally nothing I could do, as the pixie ran past the rear bumper, except scream at her to stop. I felt helpless; I was helpless.
Thanks be to God that I remembered all the old tricks for postponing the panic attack until I had time and space and it was safe to deal with (having one while driving? the opposite of safe): shutting down mentally and emotionally and functioning on autopilot, chugging coffee, and listening to music while ignoring the TV (something else that can trigger a panic attack, if there's already one lurking and waiting to happen).
And I've since learned how to shut one down entirely: have a double or triple shot of something very strong. Which I did, once I'd eaten supper.
But, all of this still leaves me dealing with the aftermath: exhaustion, occasional fugue states when I don't have something I have to focus on (the lost time yesterday), an inability to concentrate for longer than about fifteen minutes, and sore muscles and joints.
My brain has started moving back to normal function, and I've slept off most of the exhaustion; however, the muscle soreness will probably take a few more days. Which is, almost by necessity, going to postpone my grading, since it hit me worst in my forearms, shoulders, and legs, this time--I can't hold a pencil for long without my forearm screaming at me, and my fingers losing strength.
And why I didn't get my planned blog post done Monday. Or yesterday. Or today. I literally cannot remember what I was going to write about. Can't even remember the subject.
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