Me and Ozzy Are Together

Riding on that Crazy Train.  Yep, that should definitely be my theme song right now.

Want to hear about my crazy?  Sure you do.

So my neighbor comes into the post office last week.  Nothing unusual about that--the guy has to pick up his mail and everything.  I'm in the back of the office, sorting the mail, when I hear someone say, "Hi, Julie. How are you doing today?"  When I peeked out to see who was talking to me, all I saw is the back of a red and black buffalo checked jacket.  Exactly like Bill's.  My eyes were telling me it was Bill but my mind was strongly disagreeing.  I was confused.  And shocked.  And speechless.  I knew it was my neighbor, I could see him standing right in front of me.  But my (crazy) mind could not make sense of the situation and all I could do was stare.  Oh, and open my mouth repeatedly without finding the ability to actually speak intelligible words.  The poor guy looked so confused and befuddled.  And then I mumbled something to him about crying and ran into the back.  Needless to say he made a hasty exit.

But here's my favorite freak out of the week:

I am a regular church-goer.  Have been for years.  Or at least I was until a few months ago.  One Sunday, out of left field,  I was just smothered by this horrible feeling of sadness whilst sitting through a service.  There was nothing unusually upsetting about the sermon or the music or the people around me.  I was just overcome by sadness.  Grief is stealthy like that.  I was missing Bill something terrible and I was feeling conspicuous over a comment someone had made to me about sitting my hypocritical hind end in a pew (Really, aren't we all guilty of that?!  Isn't that a reason why we go to church?!). So I decided to take a break from it all for a bit.  Just until it felt okay again.  You must understand that my intuition serves me better than my brain these days.

Well, something shifted this weekend and encouraged me to finally go back.  It just felt right.

Pffft.

I got there okay.  Settled the kids in just fine too.  Felt comfortable and pretty chill.  And then I freaked out.  Big time.

I felt all fuzzy-headed and warm.  My heart started pounding and racing.  Then it was like the walls were closing in on me.  I know that sounds so cliche but it is the best description I can come up with.  I ran to the bathroom, threw up, hyperventilated, and then couldn't leave the bathroom.  Honest to goodness, I just stared at the door handle and despite my mind telling my hand to grab the darn thing and turn it, I just couldn't do it.  It took me about 15 minutes before I could escape.  It was a frightening and strange experience.

I know it was a panic attack or some other manifestation of anxiety.  Duh.  I also know that I don't need any help dealing with it.  And I don't need a pill to hide my reality.  Time.  I just need time.

Someday I won't feel the acuteness of loneliness and isolation and grief.  Someday I hope to remember Bill's voice singing the songs and feel the sweetness of happy memories.  Today I just felt the emptiness of nothingness.

Hey, but I put on a good show.