Rantings

It used to be that home was the only safe place to be. Anyone who has suffered anxiety/depression with associated agoraphobia will know what I'm talking about. One avoids situations which bring on panic attacks, such as being pushed about by crowds in the shops down to stupid things like answering the phone or front door. It escalates so that one's world becomes smaller and smaller, till eventually the only safe place is the chair you're sitting in and still the panic attacks don't go.

It's taken me a long, long time (several years) to work through this, and with the help of an absolutely brilliant psychotherapist over the past year I'm well on the way to leading a normal life ... so much so that I was starting to seriously think about trying to get back into work.

Sunday's events, however, seem to have had a major impact on my progress, but not in the way in which you might think. I'm starting to have anxiety attacks when I'm IN THE HOUSE on my own. After the threats we received at our front door on Sunday I no longer feel safe and can't wait to get out of the house in the morning. Today I spent the day at Ian's shop helping out, but when it became time to go home I started fretting and worrying about it. I was having palpitations, trembling and feeling nauseous. I had a pain in my chest and I was fighting back the urge to yell and sob and run away. It was just awful.

I did, however, overcome it, said goodbye to Ian and drove home as calmly as possible. Now I'm home it's not so bad, but the anger I now feel is almost overwhelming. I doubt if the bloke would give toss how much of an effect he's had on me, but I'm so angry all I want to do is go and smash his effing head in! No, don't worry, I'd never do it, but I've never felt rage as powerful as this in my whole life. If only I had some way of venting it. Maybe I should take up boxing ... waddya think? ;-)