Agoraphobia (ag-uh-ruh-FOE-be-uh) is a type of anxiety disorder in which you fear and often avoid places or situations that might cause you to panic and make you feel trapped, helpless or embarrassed.
There are many definitions for agoraphobia. some describe it of a fear of people. I know I do not have those symptoms. For me my agoraphobia has made me afraid to travel far away from my home, living in fear that I will have a major panic attack resulting in a "mental breakdown" in which I cannot redeem myself from.
It all started when I started seeing my father again. When I was four years old my mom and dad stopped all association with each other. My father still had joint custody and was allowed to see me on the weekends. He did not. Another time I will tell you why they stopped all contact.
I grew up only 10 minutes away from my dad and his family. No one was involved in my life whatsoever. I knew that my dad had married and he had two children with this woman. I desperately wanted to get to know my brother and my sister. I knew their names from word around the streets and it made it even more painful. You had to figure that living so close we would bump into each other right? Yes eventually we bumped into each other all thanks to their Aunt Jane. Jane lived on the same street as me. I was 12 at the time. While biking up the street I heard someone call my sisters name. her name is not so common so I thought for a quick moment and then shook the idea, believing it was a longshot. I couldn't help but stare though, as this cute little blonde six year old skipped across the lawns. She was a little sassy and absolutely adorable! Everything I could have imagined for a little sister, someone young enough to look up to me and I so desperately wanted someone to play with and teach things too! I continued to my friends house and let the thought slowly slip in the back of my mind. I found myself riding slowly on my bicycle past Jane's driveway everyday for a long time. Until finally, she was outside one afternoon and she stopped me. " You must be Rick's daughter" she said. "Your a spitting image of him!" "I heard his oldest was living somewhere in the area." I froze not knowing if I could trust this woman, but intrigued by the fact that she recognized me. I told her I was Rick's daughter and she asked me how my mom was doing. After making basic small talk, she asked if I was aware that I had a brother and a sister, I told her of course and that I wished I could meet them. She asked for my mothers cell phone number to schedule a get together with me and my siblings. Over joyed I gave her the number said goodbye and thank you and left.
Sooner than later my mom had told me that my dads now ex wife was living somewhere 2 hours away with my brother and sister and that they wanted to drive to our town to meet up! I couldn't believe my ears! ME! An only child going to finally have siblings to share thoughts and feelings with and play with! That very day I met John and Sareia. Sareia was as cute as ever with two missing front teeth, John was a 9 year old boy. Very shy and timid. He was nervous of the idea of having a big sister. It was a lot to take in, but in no time we were laughing and playing and scheduling visits back on forth on weekends. Sareia started to call me sissy and call me on the phone almost daily. John would speak to me as well but I wasn't as close to him because Sareia and I would play with dolls and such, John would play his Xbox. Nonetheless as we grew up I gained an equal relationship with them both.
One day John and Sareia were out for a visit. I was about 15 years old when John asked me "If we have the same dad, how come we see him and you don't?" It was a complicated question and I didn't even know that answer. I told him that our dad had a chance to see me my whole life but never showed up. He didn't believe me that our father wouldn't want to know me. I think he was very naïve to what was going on. He called our father that day and demanded some answers. My dad told him that he did love me, things were just more complicated than he knew and that he would love to start a relationship with me. I was angry and resentful so I did not want to talk to our father, but there was a part of me that wanted answers too. I wanted to know how you can look at your precious 4 year old and just walk out of her life. So I got on the phone. He was nice, sweet, and caring. He answered my questions and told me he wanted to see me with my siblings and we could take a ride on the 4 wheeler and just talk. The thought was so comforting, not only did I gain a brother and sister, but now I get a dad too?! As I mentioned in my previous blog, the father figure I had was not anyone I wanted to call dad.
I had just got accepted as a cheerleader at my high school. I was doing well with my grades and was generally happy after my moms ex left the picture. I went to meet my father with my siblings. When I met him he was as kind and caring as he seemed on the phone. He kept telling me how interested he was in my life and asking questions. Everything seemed normal for once.
My Introduction to agoraphobia
I asked my father to come watch me cheer at one of my games. He told me he couldn't make it, I asked him why and that's when he told me he suffered from a disease that made him unable to travel. The thought of it didn't even make sense to me. I told him its not traveling, its only 10 minutes away. He told me I didn't understand it and to let it go. I didn't let it go. I too struggled with anxiety, but I had never been fearful of going places.
My dad started to distance himself from me about a month after we started visiting. The more I came over the less interested he seemed in my presence. He started ignoring my phone calls and a lot of the times leaving me in tears because of it. I felt like I did something wrong. "Why doesn't my dad want to get to know me?" "What's so wrong with me?" I asked myself those questions too often. My mom would tell me things like "I told you not to go." "He's a worthless asshole, who wants to hurt you." Even if that was true he was still my father and for a while I believed he would change. I saw glimpses in his behavior that he still cared about me. Sometimes he would call me with a poor excuse of why he didn't answer the phone for a week. Then other times he just plain wouldn't talk to me for weeks and gave me no explanation. I started to adapt to his behavior and began to take whatever I could get, because it least I didn't fully loose him. I had only just got him into my life, I wasn't prepared for him to leave it again.
Slowly it started to hit me. I started panicking in the store, at the doctors, at the mall. Anywhere. Every time I would have anxiety I would avoid going back to those places. I remember watching the areas I could go start shrinking. In my head I imagined a map and every time I got fearful or panicked somewhere that place would fold over and not become and option to go. The map kept folding in, until my only comfortable spot was my home. One day I wanted to push myself, I said "How bad could it be?" I went with my boyfriend and one of my best friends from high school, to the beach. The beach was about 45 minutes from my house and her house was about 20. We stopped at her friends to pick him up on the way, she didn't want to be the third wheel and I do not blame her for that. On the way there it felt weird to be that far away again. I hadn't done it in so long, but I was ok. We went to the beach, we laughed and enjoyed the sun. We ran to this big play ground with giant swings. Those were always my favorite, I loved gliding as high as I could. It was getting late and we decided to head back, we were all starving though so we stopped at the nearest McDonald's. I noticed the sun setting as we drove off with a mouth full of French fries. Then suddenly out of no where, I started feeling uneasy and nauseous. I stopped eating. "Oh no, not here." "PLEASE NO" I'm screaming in my head to not give into the rising adrenaline in my body! "Your okay!" "Its okay that your not at home, you deserve to be out with your friends." The feeling of my heart pounding and my whole body shaking was too much. I lost control. I've never reached into my purse faster than that moment. My doctor had prescribed my a medication to calm down. I had never taken it before, he told me when you feel anxious, take a pill. I did not want to rely on these pills, but I kept them on me for an emergency case. I cracked open the bottle and immediately my boyfriend asked me what's wrong. I told him" I cant think, I cant talk right now, JUST DRIVE and get me the hell out of here!" He kept saying I cant drive any faster were stuck in traffic. My stomach was knotting up and painful. The fear was screaming all around me. I had never been so afraid and I had no idea what I was even afraid of. "This cant be normal." "I need a doctor." "I need someone, please god somebody help me!" At this point I was rocking back in forth in my seat. My friends had stopped talking in the back and all eyes were on me. This made me feel so uncomfortable, I grabbed my McDonald's bag and threw up. There went any chance of me relaxing from the pill. It was an agonizing 20 minutes back to drop off our guy friend. When we arrived at his house I was a little more at ease knowing half the trip was down, but still shaky and scared shitless of I don't what. My friend did not speak to me. She only stared until we dropped her off. I can tell she had no idea what to say, cant say I would have either in her situation. When I finally reached my driveway, I had this unbearable overwhelming sense of comfort and security in that moment was when I gave in. I imprisoned myself. I did not leave my house for months, and it would take a lot for me to even go outside when my friends would come knocking on the door. A good year or so went by. I had joined online school and had pretty much secluded myself from everything outside. Another year went by before I had the courage to even try to go on a walk. Whenever I did, I would come running like a bat out of hell to get back to my house.
I had supportive friends. I had one specific friend who walked with me to the end of my driveway and back everyday, until I got the nerve to continue. We did this all week until I was able to walk up and down my street. I started inviting my friends over again and began my journey into fighting my agoraphobia. I believe that my husband, like I mentioned previously helped give me inspiration to fight it. I wanted to show him the old me, the non-damaged me. The fun innocent girl, with a big heart. I did my very best to show him that online and he fell for me. I wanted to show him that girl when he finally did meet me. So I tried and tried. I still couldn't make it farther than a couple streets down when he arrived, but he was well aware of my issue and kept telling me what a strong person I was for even trying. He never doubted me for a second. He always told me regardless of what I believed that I had it in me to travel the world! And that he was going to take my hand one day and we were going to go to Canada. He promised I would see it, that my life was not over and there was so much more he wanted to show me. When he arrived my whole world fell into place. It didn't matter that my mom was on drugs and that my dad was in and out of my life and my siblings weren't around. He made everything hopeful and worth giving a chance. Slowly but surely we pushed my comfort zones. Each time making it farther and farther. I had set backs, but never gave up. He was there with me, even though he didn't understand how I felt, he was always there to explore the new places with me reassuring me and pushing to go further and further.
I MADE IT!
My husband stayed with me for two years before I tried to go to his country. We got pregnant with our beautiful baby girl and I was so happy. At that point I was able to make it to the doctors, to the mall, and just about anywhere in the area with little to no anxiety. I learned a form of control. I learned that I'm going to get anxious but how to control it in certain familiar surroundings. The fact that I grew up here all my life helped a lot. The day finally came. It was time to put myself to the test and go. My mother in law drove with her husband to come and pick us up. 560 miles. They drove overnight and I couldn't get any sleep at all waiting for them. My stomach felt like it dropped into my butt. I had no idea how I was going to pull it all together and succeed. I was scared. They arrived and I met my mother in law for the first time. There I stood holding her first grand child with her son she hadn't seen in a year. I cant imagine how she must have been feeling. I know I was pretty nervous. I have a fear of abandonment as well, so I was very worried of doing something to piss off these great people. I had skyped with his mother before and she seemed nice. Very welcoming and she wanted us to live there with them. I wanted that too. I desperately wanted a change and to put all my nightmares behind me to embrace a bright future with my wonderful man by my side and of course our beautiful baby girl.
We loaded up the car and before I knew it we were off! The rush of adrenaline and the fear of leaving all hit me. Before I knew it we had hit PA. We stopped at a gas station and I went with my mother in law inside crying silently. I was expecting to just stand there and collect myself and pray for a miracle, when suddenly there she was hugging me and telling me its going to be okay. "Your strong for doing this. "You can do this." "Were here for you." words I was not used to hearing. This woman genuinely wanted to help me! I couldn't believe it! It was real, she actually cared! Not to mention she just drove 12 hours through a snow storm to come and get us. WOW. It was too much to handle. I got back into the car with shaky hands, my husband grabbed my hands telling me its okay and he's here with me just like the times when we made it through my fears in the past. I popped an anxiety pill laid my head back and gave in. I let it go and let them drive me to the Canadian boarder. I saw a sign Now Entering New York. HOLY SHIT! New York! I still remember vividly in my mind my mother in law looking back at me with her thumb up. The thought makes me smile. Then there it was. Canadian customs! Holy shit I was going to be in Canada! Two months ago I was praising myself for making it an hour away, now look at me! I'm on fire! I was so proud of myself. The miles kept growing behind us and at times so did my anxiety. I was able to completely not break down though after a long 18 hours stuck in a snow storm we arrived at his house. I knew from that point on that there was nothing I was incapable of. I was still shaky and nervous and I didn't know if I was ever going to feel comfortable 100 percent, but it was well worth the journey.
I wish I could say though that that was it, the end of my struggles with traveling and we stayed and lived happily ever after. I still struggled with having to take medications to stay calm and the tension was building from our situation with immigration and I was very homesick. A year later I am typing this from the same bedroom I imprisoned myself in. Except the only difference is, I'm now here because I chose to be. I'm a willing prisoner. I've gotten no where permanently because I failed to give myself a chance and I've finally realized that there is no place for me here. Not if I want to be with my husband. This is a lot of pressure to put on a marriage, especially when you throw a kid in the mix. We have fought more than ever lately. Some times I want to give up. I know that what we have is worth fighting for. I was scheduled to move there on the 21st of this month. I know this is best and I need to go through with it, I don't know if Ill ever feel ready enough, but I am going to do it. I am going to give him and I the chance we deserve. Most importantly I'm going to give myself a chance to be happy.
