Panic and stress…
I had a lovely time today; I went to the Community Awards down in Whiteinch. The people and drug support workers down there have been great at supporting me develop my play ‘Smack-the Point of Yes’.
I performed there in the community halls a few times and really enjoyed it and have put the play on also for charity.
I watched all the people who contribute to their community get awards and was heartening to see, there was one woman who had worked with the kids for over forty years! That is some going.
They gave me a special mention and I was very overwhelmed, it was amazing, I feel they have helped and supported me more than anything I have done for them to be honest.
Later on I went out shopping with Ashley and we meandered through the throng of mental Christmas shoppers, it was quite stressful but we carried on casually. I was in a shop looking at trousers and trying to find my size when my phone went.
It was a call to say that a journalist had called the theatre that I am gigging at in London and they insisted that my gig was not the 20th of December but the 21st.
My heart missed a beat and sweat trickled down my back as Christmas shoppers were now bashing into me in the rush to get the perfect set of holiday novelty sox. I panicked and explained that it was definitely the 20th as I am not even in London on the 21st!
I could hardly breathe….NO NO; I can’t even begin to cope with this if there has been a date change I didn’t know. I have loads of industry people and friends coming along on the 20th of December and the press releases have gone out! I now wanted to stick a fork in the skull of every screaming baby in that store….fuck when ‘The snow man brings the snow’ I want to scream.
I quickly called home and got the contract pulled up in the email for me to check and sure enough it is the 20th of December, what is the theatre thinking of giving a journalist the fucking wrong date?
I called the theatre myself and they assured me it was just a wrong date in the system and the press will be informed that it is the 20th. Panic over, but I was still incredibly stressed to the point of vomiting.
Ashley and I made it home.
I went straight to bed and tried to sleep off the worry as I had a gig tonight.
By this time it was 7pm, but I wasn’t needed until 10pm, and the gig was local. My heart was thudding in my chest as I lay in the dark. I don’t normally get so stressed but this week has been a bit full on. I lay there thinking I was going to have a stroke…what the fuck is wrong with me? It’s all sorted!
So, I finally got up out bed and fixed me make up grabbed a sausage roll and headed for the underground to take me up to Byres road. On the tube, I munched at my wee snack, just as I was about to swallow, my throat felt tight and I couldn’t get the pastry down. The tube trundled and plunged through the dark tunnel….my heart started to beat faster, I was starting to choke and for the longest time I couldn’t swallow that fucking sausage roll. The tube screeched and the piercing sound hurt the back of my eyes, I felt claustrophobic for a few seconds and thought I was having a panic attack….I wouldn’t know as I have never had one before….but this feeling was escalating and for a brief second I thought I was going to jump up and get off at the next stop.
I managed to swallow, I breathed slowly and was fine…it was over.
What had just happened? Was it stress?
I went to the gig, watched the acts and went on and actually had a fine gig despite the circumstances.
Maybe I am going to have a stroke. When did I stop coping well in life?
What is wrong with me?
I will feel better, I will stop letting everything get to me.
I have coped all my life with issues, I am no stranger to dealing with shit and I will get better at it…maybe I am just old!
And maybe I will do it without eating my hair.
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2 comments:
Whew! Last time that happened to me, it involved a carrot -- in the dark at a dinner theatre -- and it eventually came out my nose puree. No...it definitley did not go in via my nose. Can't imagine a suasage coming out my nose. Ouch!
This was my wakeup call to a stale relationship. STRESS of breaking up.
Come see me sometime and leave a an irreverant remark to my pithiness (not a word but I like to say it). Pithiness, Pithiness, Pithiness. Good, now you try it. You'll feel better.
Ciao for now...and remember, Happy women unite! (and conquer?)
Teri
www.herestohappywomen.blogspot.com
Saying "pithiness" three times made you feel better, didn't it?
Told ya...I post a new article every Friday, and always leave a comment back on the post for those "non-lurkers" like yourself who step up and say hello.
I'll be thinking of you on the 20th...knock 'em dead!
Teri
www.herestohappywomen.blogspot.com
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