Panic and Motorcycles
I have, well really I had, the windows open the other day. The bright blue spring sky seems to happen only when the late winter and early spring mix in Minnesota. I was busy inside, doing spring things and as I walked around I could feel the heat of the sun hit me through the windows. And I could hear…motorcycles.
My heart quickened, my neck/face/shoulder muscles tightened, and I began to grind my teeth. My stomach turned, round and round. My brain circled with it. My vision become just a bit tunneled and every step was a miracle after realizing how dizzy I was.
PANIC. Anxiety. Breathe. You can do this. You’ve done it before. Just breathe. Keep doing what you're doing, it will take your mind off it. Breathe in by 4 counts, out by 7. Take a drink of something really cold, it will bring you back to reality. Notice where you are and ground yourself. Go sit with the dogs, they’ll comfort you. Just breathe.
Nope. None of it works. None. And after a couple of hours trying to live that way, I give in and take the meds that both calm the panic and put me to sleep.
Since that day, I’ve noticed that the sunny, warm days where I’d usually be outside enjoying the blossoming spring are the worst. Especially motorcycles. It’s as though, my mind has decided that it signals the coming of bad memories, bad times and in an effort to protect me, it causes this hurt — this harm.
When all I want to do, is.ride.my.motorcycle. I want to feel the wind on my face, the sun in my hair. I want to feel powerful riding a motorcycle alongside my husband and know that I earned this license and I CAN do it. Inside, my brain, it fights me. Fights me now, while writing this, even though it’s cold outside again and I am far away from the motorcycles.