Tuesday, July 10, 2007

The Sucked-away Day

So, some of you who know me know I have a lil' problem with not handling adrenaline very well. I'm from a long line of *really* grouchy people, and it's no secret some family members have done stints in places euphemistically termed "nervous hospitals"... one uncle for shooting and killing a man who'd insulted his wife. He spent two years in the "nervous hospital" and was released. The court was lenient because, in true family fashion, this uncle had waited patiently outside the church for the man to come out. He'd given the man time to "get right with the Lord" before exacting his revenge. You just don't mess with that kind of crazy.

Fast forward a few generations, to my kind of crazy, having a meltdown in the parking lot of Circuit City. I'd just had my hand forced (by the overlords of Am Ex, MC, and Visa) to purchase a shop computer and in the aftermath, whilst loading the kids back into the car, it hit me like a ton of bricks. Payments. More. Payments. And I still had to cough/gag/spew up the cash for the 'point-of-sale' hard and software. More. Payments. Actually, just two payments, because apparently spending almost 25 c-notes doesn't qualify as something you might want to, you know, pace yourself with.

The upside to this 'tale of woe' is two-fold: first, in the midst of all the chaos and confusion, I managed to get merchant status with AmEx and Visa/Mastercard... in one day... in a span of two hours, actually (the heavens smile down upon me) and second, I put on one helluva show in the parking lot. I could Not. Stop. Blubbing. I couldn't even breathe. It was like someone reached into my throat and turned my lungs inside out. Like being crushed and suffocated at the same time. All I could do was sit in the car, sobbing and shaking, trying to get a grip, for cryin' out loud, only to have that grip broken by another wave of panic and body-wracking sobs. I believe the technical term is "hysterical". Bill/Boris sat patiently until I was cried out... I did notice a smirk and a stifled chortle at the tail end... you know, when I attempted to 'explain' why buying a computer had me so devastated. (Really, it's the POS software that felt the most like getting bent over... tough to take for a little control freak like me.)

At the end of each day I try to show/tell myself what self and I got done. This little exercise is what got me through five bouts of post-partum depression without tossing anyone out a window. Some days, the 'sucked away days', all I had to show for my effort was that we were all still alive. Other days were deemed 'good' because I finished a sock, or made a few quilt blocks, or even just tossed out the slimy celery from the fridge. Today was seeming like a sucked away day because I was focused on the big, scary picture, but as I type this, it wasn't a total washout. I now take all major credit cards... and I have a cool scanny-thing and a cash drawer coming, too.

10 comments:

Kathy said...

So now you are REALLY a Shop Owner. Congrats. We all know you can do it. Just take some help from your friends. And keep on knitting. That will calm those nerves.

Kathy

elmomof5 said...

Okay...surprise, I'm slinking out of lurker status. I just wanted to say I love your blog today and I wasn't kidding when I said you could write. I'm quietly behind you in spirit, and if need be I will be there to post bail. Love you gal and you can....no you ARE doing it! Oh, and I'm thinking Boris might need a few of those happy pills....
Slinking away.......

knitter in the desert said...

I totally understand having those breakdowns....all you can do is let it all out and then finally breath again and go on....
(really ask D-fly-the family terms them my panic attacks....Dad has them too so crazy runs in my family as well....)

LotusKnits said...

The reality of putting yourself out there does kind of take the wind out of you doesn't it? That's why I think I have such a difficult time with self promotion.

If you ever need to get away, I have a makeshift fainting couch ready for your disposal. And a decent stash of yarn :) Not that you need more. I'm just sayin.

Alison said...

I know that hysteria. So loud you can't breathe, and irrational thoughts seem kind of cool.

But at the end of it - you got youself merchantised (I made that up), so the big leap you just took, went somewhere :)

yzarc_irab said...

Hi! I haven't visited your blog for a while, but got caught up today. WOW!!! Things are really happenin' - and Bill/Boris is SO COOL...the ideal guy for you!

Unknown said...

Oh Camilla - I have had days like that too - most recently at the office in front of everyone I work with! Not in the semi-privacy of my car. At least you were in the car with people who love you. (I first typed loved - fruidian (sorry, I can't spell) slip?)

Hope today is a better day. I often try to look at "What I did right today" rather than what I didn't do. g

Annalea said...

That was a real, live, honest-to-goodness panic attack, Camilla. Good job on coming through it okay. The only thing I found that kept my panic attacks at bay was getting more sleep . . . sounds impossible, but I finally just decided that if I went to bed several hours earlier, all of the work would still be there in the morning, and I'd have more time to get it done in. (And get more done because I was up to it. :o)

Best of luck . . .

Dragonfly7673 (Vicki) said...

Yes, Mojave sis definitely understands those breakdowns. She's a smart, intelligent woman but sometimes she sort of explodes into a bawling, angry mess for a bit. I've had too, in fact, for personal reasons feel I may have one soon. You are lucky Bill/Boris left you mostly alone during it.

I'm so excited though that you got your scanner thing, you are on your way!!

melly~ said...

@^$%^*%&# blogger, ate my first post. :\
You had me laughing out loud at the 'don't mess with that kind of crazy', Cami.
I'm so sorry you had a meltdown but now it's over and you can get on with things, right?
And sister? You need to remember you got friends. You got ME.
I -heart- you Clementine.