Playing Catch Up: 5

July 25th, 2010

It's no secret that I suffer from a touch of claustrophobia.  Ok fine.  I am bat shit crazy when it comes to it.  I can't even THINK about a situation where there is a possibility that I might not be able to leave.  Movie theatres, office meetings, anything like that.  I have to take a few deep breaths and tell myself that I CAN leave.  Nothing is keeping me there against my will.  And usually that gets me through the mounting panic. And this is coming from the girl who used to CHOOSE to sleep half under the bed at her best friend's house when we were teenagers.  Maybe it was all the drugs I was doing at the time; made me feel like burrowing into a dark hole or something.  Anyway, most of the people in my life are not new to the fact that Katherine needs to sit in the aisle seat.  Or near the door, or at the back.  I realize that everyone thinks I am weird, but they need to believe me when I say I am planning ahead and avoiding catastrophe.  

So when I had to attend a wake on Thursday and found myself against a wall, in a pew with five people barricading me in, I made it clear that I could not sit there.  Quietly, so it was ok.  Everyone was talking amongst themselves, it was fine.  We were free to come and go.  And go I did, right outside for a bit of fresh air.

I knew a prayer service was being held, so I wrangled my way into the back pew, right on the aisle.  You know, just in case panic were to set in and I would have to quietly let myself out (keep in mind I have NEVER had a panic attack, and I truly believe I never will.  It's just the IDEA of it that freaks me out).  So when my uncle came in right as the service was starting, saw me and asked me to scoot over, I quietly shook my head no.  Smiling all big and pretty of course, and letting him know I would be happy to let him by me if he wanted to sit on the other side of me.  He laughed and asked me again to move over.  And this is when I saw myself through someone else's eyes: a girl with rain frizzy hair, a bit damp looking from the humidity, wide-eyed and frantically shaking her head from side to side, explaining quickly and with rising panic that I can't move over I AM SUPER CLAUSTROPHOBIC WOULD YOU LIKE TO SIT ON THE OTHER SIDE OF ME? BY THE WAY MY MOTHER IS OVER THERE WOULD YOU LIKE TO GO AND SIT WITH HER?  

Holy shit.  Relax Princess.  Move over, take a deep breath, and work through your issue.  Sorry about that Uncle J.  Let's call the situation 'The Mind of A Crazy Creative Being', and leave it at that?
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