The Joy of A Crisis
I am not talking about a ‘crisis’ as defined by Victorian porn and Lady Chatterley’s Lover. That is obviously joyful and needs no explanation. I will wait while you google what I am talking about (although, really, it should probably be obvious).
Back now? Enlightened? Going to use the term as often and as publicly as possible just for a laugh (I would)? Good. No, I mean ‘crisis’ to refer to a situation which causes difficulty, trouble, trauma or danger.
Whatever personal crisis one has, the fear and panic can be overwhelming and the future suddenly seems grim, what you can see of it. Sometimes the future is unseen, as the mind simply won’t settle onto any projection, mired as it is in a maelstrom of whirling thoughts and moving images which refuse to come into focus. For me, the major panic attacks I have are generally one of two things:
(1) My imagination runs away with me when projecting possible futures in which Sooterkin does not feature, for whatever reason (usually major accident resulting in loss of life, or he finds someone better than me and leaves). I cannot imagine a happy future without him in it, although realistically I know I would carry on. I wouldn’t want to though. This panic is easily dealt with by application of chocolate and snuggles, and a rest for a while in my safe place (the nape of his neck).
I also panic when projecting traumatic events affecting my loved ones. The same treatment usually works at quelling this, although I will occasionally need to contact said loved ones for extra reassurance.
I don’t know why my imagination takes this path, incidentally. Possibly to prepare myself for all eventualities. Strangely, if such things actually do happen I am usually very good at dealing with them, and save any emotional breakdown for after the practical details have been dealt with. I am good when a real traumatic event happens. I’m not good when imagining them.
(2) Unexpected financial burdens, for which I have not budgeted. I am borderline pathological in my need to know exactly where my finances are at any point in time, and have a detailed monthly budget which allows a certain amount each month for ‘unforeseen circumstances’. It is, by most people’s standards in this current economic depression, quite a large monthly allowance. It allows me to help others should it be necessary, and this is important to me. It is not unlimited, however. Therefore, any unexpected larger need for funds is liable to send me off the edge into a ranty panic which may seem irrational in its extremeness to others but is very real and rational to me.
I’ve taken to letting people know when any such trauma is happening, and when the panic attacks have reared their ugly heads. Informing people results in what should have been an expected outcome, but no-one expects the Spanish Inquisition lovely things as a result of such panic attacks simply because panic attacks won’t let you! I assume. It’s not just me on that, is it?
The joy of such a crisis is the love and support that comes at me from every corner. I have the best taste in friends, and the most wonderful, warm, loving and caring (not to mention totally mentalist and absolutely abnormal, thankfully) family and friends in the world. I am so grateful for this. They don’t judge, they just support and offer help in any way they can.
It is so heart-warming and beautiful. The love that pours out bolsters me, calms the fiercest panic (although as those of you who suffer panic attacks know, this may take some hours), lifts me up and lets me know that this crisis, too, shall pass.
There is joy in a crisis. It’s almost worth having a crisis to be reminded of this. Almost.