Curse my insecurities!
So this morning, I'm up and about to get ready to go to work. The kids are screaming, the clothes aren't done, the room starts closing in on me, and I have a panic attack.

I ended up calling in sick to work, because I couldn't function properly (I dunno...somehow, I figured not being able to do anything but stare blankly at the ground and driving to my job didn't seem like a good match). So, I get on the phone to the Employee Assistance Program folks (thank goodness for benefits, right?), and I'm put through to a counselor, to whom I spoke for an hour and a half . He was a really insightful guy, and a good counselor, and I'm glad I got a chance to speak to him. He successfully "talked me down" (even though I wasn't in any immediate danger), and helped me to see my situation in a more objective way. I left the conversation feeling a lot more empowered and confident than when I had called, so I'm glad I did.

I kinda mentioned this at the end of the conversation, but I'll mention it here, too (in case anyone is reading this): I felt somewhat like an idiot calling about having a panic attack. I've had a few over the past couple of weeks (this morning's was the 4th in 11 days), so when I realized the frequency with which I was having them, I decided it was time to call in the professionals. I realize my problems are really nothing compared to a lot of other folks, but I was having trouble sorting everything out. There are just some times when one's brain locks up...kinda like your computer freezing: it just hangs there, waiting for something to get it back on track. Sometimes it's a loud noise, sometimes it's the comforting touch of a loved one, sometimes it's just letting it all out and unloading on a sympathetic ear. But I don't think it's anything to be ashamed about. We live in a culture that views mental or emotional illness or disease as some sort of 'untouchables' caste. If we just recognize that the brain is an organ, just like the heart or the kidneys, only we don't know as much about the brain. It breaks sometimes. It gets sick sometimes. It needs care just like the rest of the body, and we shouldn't feel ashamed when something goes wrong with it and we need some outside help.

Wow. I just sounded like a PSA or something. Creepy.

Anyhow, this isn't the first time I've gone to a counselor; however, it is the first time I had a counseling session by phone. I promised the guy I'd call him back when I got a "battle plan" together and let him know how things turn out. I'm looking forward to that.

Now, I just have to get the ball rolling on my new life...

(I'll address that in another post) ;)