Dear Maire,
-Trigger Warning: Anxiety-
I’m glad we’re doing this again. It’s a really good way to relieve stress. OK, here’s some draft ideas. I have a series I entered to a journal project about the admissions process, so I can upload those. I want to write about the Tetons. It was so beautiful and inspiring and… immense. Everything about the trip made me happy to live in this world.
Back to the series, I should add a disclaimer. My writing has changed since I last wrote to you. There are no more sophisticated phrases. My letters will not be eloquent simply because that is not the way thoughts formulate in my mind. Since last year, I’ve been in the habit of writing what I think. Raw feelings and fragments. Words strung together. So far, the posts on this platform are the result of hours carefully wording letters. I have a filter (and I’ve been told that’s a good thing). I’m removing it.
I would argue that my whole manner of thinking has changed since we last wrote, for better and for worse. For better, I constantly wonder about the world around me, inquiring and hypothesizing. Scientific literacy is more than a method, it’s a perspective on the world. Also, I could care less what others think of me. I am my own person. You can either take me at face value or leave. For worse, Lately, I’ve been anxious about just about everything. My inquiries and wonders can turn into worries and fears. Worries and fears turn into anxiety. Maire, I’ve never actually had a panic attack before. I was always able to channel frustration into music, art, acting, taekwondo, writing, something. Yesterday was the first time I felt like I had a panic attack.
I recorded what happened in my journal.
“My mind moved so fast it terrified me. I was thinking about how Federation piano competition is next weekend, and my pieces are barely learned, let alone memorized at tempo. I have national qualifier for Taekwondo this weekend, so I can’t practice piano. Our dog has to stay in a kennel. Hopefully, he won’t hate me for not finding somewhere else to take him. I scheduled a meeting with a piano accompanist for Solo/ Ensemble where I have a clarinet solo. We’re meeting on Sunday, but that’s immediately after I get back from qualifier, so I’ll have to bring everything in the car. Is my gear bag in the car? Hopefully it isn’t too heavy. I’m too heavy. 2 pounds, to be exact. I’m always borderline weight divisions for sparring, and it never was a problem but now they charge a $50 fee to change divisions. But $50 is a lot because I’m going to Prep* next year. Next year. So my dad is talking about going to Cancun sometime, but that doesn’t seem possible. Plus, nothing good ever happens when my dad plans a vacation when my mom is out of town. Out of the country. My mom is out of the country, so I have to take total care of the dog, water the plants (I forgot to, though, so they may be dying. Something’s dying because of my negligence), make dinner, and keep the house clean. And do geometry homework. Adi, the water for the pasta is boiling. Adi, the fire is too large.Take it off the stove. Shoot, I burned myself. That hurt. It hurt when I was at piano earlier and I had this tension in the back of my neck because I kept screwing up this one measure. My hands betrayed me again and again. I couldn’t get this one measure. My teacher was disappointed in me, I could tell. Disappointment. What happens next? I don’t really know what I want to do with my life. All of my passions don’t pertain to any realistic jobs, so that’s reassuring. I told my grandmother I would follow in her footsteps and become a doctor. She was so happy. If she died without speaking to me again, her lasts thoughts regarding me would be entailed in happiness and fulfillment. Then I would be practically forced to be a doctor. I don’t know, I’m uncertain. Uncertainty kills me. In the Tetons they wanted you to accept the unknown, but I just can’t. I’m worried I’m going to burn out. I’m worried my parents are going to burn out halfway through Prep. Everything’s burning.
Suddenly, I’m aware that my breathing is faster. I’m rubbing my face with the sweaty palms. I have a throbbing headache. I can’t stay still. Tears are forming in my eyes. I sit down. I curl up into a ball. I’m fine. Nothing is wrong with me. I’m perfectly normal. That was a complete lie. Don’t lie to yourself. All you do is lie, and where has that gotten you? You don’t want to get up in the mornings. That’s normal, though, isn’t it? Adi, I think this is a panic attack. Go to Tumblr. Calm. I see beaches. Coffee steam. Geometric designs. Inhale. Exhale. OK, again.
Now, dinner has been served, my homework is finished, my form for qualifier looks good, I can get money out of my savings for the division change. I’m not going to try to lose the weight. That would be unhealthy. The dishes are going to be cleaned soon. I’ll water the plants when I put this pen down. I’m doing OK. I have Maire, I have a boyfriend who says what I need to hear, have friends that care about my wellbeing. One of my piano pieces is memorized, so halfway there.
I was scared, Maire. All I know is that I will always try to stay calm and keep writing. It’ll never happen again.
I can’t let that happen again.”
How did I get here?
Little ol’ me,
Adi
P.S. I chose a lion because anyone who goes through panic attacks on a regular basis is a lot braver than I’ll ever be.
*Prep is what I will call the school we applied to from here on out for sake of privacy.
AdiMaire. 