Hindsight

   All of Psalm 91 but most of all, "When they call on Me, I will answer." v.15

  I shouldn't have gone to the work picnic. It was over an hour away at a place I'd never been. The GPS took me through some of the busiest areas with tons of traffic, stop lights and construction. I wasn't sure where the group was in the huge conservation area so of course my mind added an extra little panic thing,  "Am I in the right place? What if it's the wrong place? I am already late! (Yah...like by ten minutes but being late has always been a thing.)" 

  It was a relief to see familiar people but those thoughts were just enough to send me over the edge into full on panic attack territory. The tears erupted the moment I shut off the car. They didn't last long but started all over again when my boss came over to greet me. Makes me glad I work for a mental health agency who is more than understanding when this sort of thing happens.

  Fast forward a couple of hours and the organizers broke out a get-to-know-your-co-workers game where you are supposed to talk to everyone. The noise of laughter was like thunder to my ears.

  Panic attack number 2 rolled in like a freight train.

  I made the decision to leave and took as many back roads as possible, the kind that wander through fields and forests. It was a long drive.

  In saying all of this, I am thankful to have been able to take my friend's car and go down on my own. (Mine is in the shop getting the brakes seen to. When they start squealing, it's long overdue.)

  Home never looked so good and all I wanted was to have a long soak in the tub to try and diffuse the residual nerve firings. It sort of worked so here I sit, debriefing with you all.

  These panic events are always seasoned with a level of grief. Grief that this is how it is. 

  Anger is part of the emotional storm as well. Anger that this is how it is. 

  So the question is, "Am I angry at myself?"

  I guess I am.

  It's hard not to be. 

  I hate having my body hi-jack my life because there's no stopping an attack when it decides to come. Oh, sure, there's lots to do to prevent reaching this point but I bitterly ask, "What sort of life is that?"

  I hate bitterness far more than being hi-jacked. It's like drinking a cup of poison.

  The bitterness has snuggled up with feeling sorry for myself today. It, too, is poison.

  Neither have any right to be here because I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that God's plans won't be derailed by one bad day. They won't stop because I need to take some time to recover any more than if this was some sort of flu bug. Hmm...it would appear an attitude adjustment is in order. 

  Why am I being so hard on myself?

  Me thinks that's at least a whole other post if not more.

  For now, taking some quiet time to rest under God's wings is the best place to be.