Four years ago my husband and I started talking about moving. I wanted find somewhere to pursue a Master's degree in Choral Conducting and/or Opera production. He really wanted to move back to Arkansas where he grew up, and where his parents were still living. He was working remotely for an Arkansas company who wanted him to move back as well. In support of what I wanted, he did interview for a position in Seattle, where there was a Master's program I was interested in, but didn't get the job. In the end we needed to go where the job was, so Arkansas it was.
I was born and raised in Colorado. My family was there. My friends were there. And looking back I realize that I didn't really want to leave my familiar surroundings. Had we both known that at the time, I don't know that we would have made the same choices.
On a Friday in August 2008 we made the trek from Colorado to Arkansas. We moved into a small apartment with our clothes, dog and computers (the rest of our belongings were still in Colorado). My husband was needed immediately in the office, so I was left alone in unfamiliar surroundings.
The first few weeks went ok, but as time went on I became very homesick and spent a lot of time missing everything I had left behind. I spent a lot of time online looking for houses, but didn't venture out very often. I didn't know where anything was and was uncomfortable exploring on my own. When my husband was home our time was devoted to house-hunting rather than exploring. He already knew where everything was - this was home to him...where he went to high school and college.
We found a beautiful house and moved in on October 31st, 2008. We had planned on using a portion of our savings to furnish the house, but 2 days before we closed we were told we would have to pay an additional 5% down in order to close. So rather than shopping to furnish the house, I spent my days at home. I had no job, no friends and no children. My husband was working long hours as he worked towards a big software release, which left me alone, a lot. I became depressed, a common occurrence for many people after a life changing event.
As I started reading the book Don't Panic: Taking Control of Anxiety Attacks by Reid Wilson I remembered an incident that may have been my first panic attack. I gathered my courage one day and went to a local grocery store. Coming from the Denver-metro area of Colorado, I was used to having amazing grocery stores, stocked with wonderful produce and gourmet items. Here in Arkansas we have Walmart grocery stores. There is also a store called Harps, but they aren't overly impressive either. So to Walmart I went. As I stood in the checkout line I went to look for our debit card only to find that my husband had taken it out of my wallet and not returned it. I started to frantically search my purse. My pulse started racing, and I started to perspire. The only money I had was a check to an account in Colorado that had almost no money left in it. I wrote the check desperate to get out of there, then took my groceries and made a bee line to the car, tears streaming down my face.
I didn't understand why I was so upset and why I couldn't seem to control my emotions. I called my father sobbing. After explaining to him what happened he said he could deposit money into that account so that the check wouldn't bounce, but the damage was done. I started avoiding going to the store by myself. I couldn't verbalize to my husband why I couldn't go by myself. I didn't understand why I was comfortable going with my husband, but just couldn't bring myself to go alone.
I didn't understand that I was becoming agoraphobic.
No comments:
Post a Comment