Panic Packing
30\12\05 05:15
Frenetically running around a scene of utter disorder and chaos, of my own creation, that is now spanning 3 rooms and engulfing them all. My suitcase is still empty and it feels like I’ve just turned 3 big piles of mess into many different smaller piles of mess.
'Er.....Are you sure you're going to be packed in time? We have to go in 5 minutes' Nicola said.
"Er.....I'm going to have a suitcase packed of sorts."
Somehow I'd spent all night packing and still needed to pack when it was time to go, even though I’d had another 24 hours. Matters were hindered by the fact that I kept suffering from severe polar opposites when making assessments of how well the packing was going.
30\12\05 00:30
"This is easy, I’m gonna be done in an hour and then can sleep for 2 hours" I told myself at the beginning.
Believing I had so much time left, even though technically I hadn’t done shit, I would reward myself by spending 20 or so minutes prancing around feeling really pleased and celebrating how easy packing was going to be. I dreamed about a life in Sweden and how happy and right it would be to hold Lla after the horrible two weeks apart. I laughed at her repeated warnings not to leave it until the last minute because it was going to be a nightmare. I laughed hard at her and her scare-mongering..
As suddenly as I had been hit by the assured, complacent wave I was gripped by a crippling, shattering fear. It gripped me so tight and constricted my chest. I realised that I was fucked, utterly, utterly, hopelessly, irreparably fucked. There was no possible hope of packing in time. Why had I done this?
People who were going on holiday for a weekend would have planned this better and I’m going there to live?
I started feeling rapid, strong heart palpitations and if I was 25 years older would have feared it was the beginnings of a heart attack. I imagined how meeting Lla and her parents at the airport after two missed planes was not going to be the welcoming, happy wonderland of smiles, hugs and kisses I had wasted so much precious packing time dreaming about. The pain was so much I had to sit down, slightly curled over. Being concious of precious time ticking away only served to increase the pressure inside of me. I realised that I had to snap out of panic mode, I didn’t want to experience my first panic attack. I vowed to press on, packing swiftly until it was over, and then spend time celebrating and day dreaming.
The problem was I kept suffering from these severe moodswings and the timings between them became less and less to the point where every 5 minutes I was changing from a blissful state of serenity to sheer, heart pumping panic. I didn’t know which side to believe. As time passed it became clear who had been trying to aide and motivate me and who had been trying to fuck and stifle me.
I averted a panic attack because I always get myself in situations where everything seems doomed and I always come up smiling. Why doubt my undoubted flow of life?
A typical example was 2 days before.
Frenetically running around a scene of utter disorder and chaos, of my own creation, that is now spanning 3 rooms and engulfing them all. My suitcase is still empty and it feels like I’ve just turned 3 big piles of mess into many different smaller piles of mess.
'Er.....Are you sure you're going to be packed in time? We have to go in 5 minutes' Nicola said.
"Er.....I'm going to have a suitcase packed of sorts."
Somehow I'd spent all night packing and still needed to pack when it was time to go, even though I’d had another 24 hours. Matters were hindered by the fact that I kept suffering from severe polar opposites when making assessments of how well the packing was going.
30\12\05 00:30
"This is easy, I’m gonna be done in an hour and then can sleep for 2 hours" I told myself at the beginning.
Believing I had so much time left, even though technically I hadn’t done shit, I would reward myself by spending 20 or so minutes prancing around feeling really pleased and celebrating how easy packing was going to be. I dreamed about a life in Sweden and how happy and right it would be to hold Lla after the horrible two weeks apart. I laughed at her repeated warnings not to leave it until the last minute because it was going to be a nightmare. I laughed hard at her and her scare-mongering..
As suddenly as I had been hit by the assured, complacent wave I was gripped by a crippling, shattering fear. It gripped me so tight and constricted my chest. I realised that I was fucked, utterly, utterly, hopelessly, irreparably fucked. There was no possible hope of packing in time. Why had I done this?
People who were going on holiday for a weekend would have planned this better and I’m going there to live?
I started feeling rapid, strong heart palpitations and if I was 25 years older would have feared it was the beginnings of a heart attack. I imagined how meeting Lla and her parents at the airport after two missed planes was not going to be the welcoming, happy wonderland of smiles, hugs and kisses I had wasted so much precious packing time dreaming about. The pain was so much I had to sit down, slightly curled over. Being concious of precious time ticking away only served to increase the pressure inside of me. I realised that I had to snap out of panic mode, I didn’t want to experience my first panic attack. I vowed to press on, packing swiftly until it was over, and then spend time celebrating and day dreaming.
The problem was I kept suffering from these severe moodswings and the timings between them became less and less to the point where every 5 minutes I was changing from a blissful state of serenity to sheer, heart pumping panic. I didn’t know which side to believe. As time passed it became clear who had been trying to aide and motivate me and who had been trying to fuck and stifle me.
I averted a panic attack because I always get myself in situations where everything seems doomed and I always come up smiling. Why doubt my undoubted flow of life?
A typical example was 2 days before.
posted by Swedophilia at 17:39
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