This evening I went to see Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream. I’ve had the tickets for over a month so I knew I was going (though the fact on the way there I had an anxiety attack and had to double check with my husband what day it was just to be sure I had the right date should have clued me in that trouble lay ahead). The Goblin dropped me and my friend Liz off at Tolethorpe, where they have an outdoor summer theatre and we ambled past the picnickers and sat down on this little wall. I took out my phone to take a picture of us (for the blog post I knew I’d want to do) and found my phone battery was dead. No phone. I turned to my friend and said (in complete seriousness) “I don’t know my phone number…do you know my phone number?” “No, she said, and I didn’t bring my phone either.” I had taken two calming pills right before we left, but they take at least half an hour to start working…have I mentioned I suffer from anxiety or that I regularly find myself in these sorts of situations? I do. I started to panic; I have no phone…I don’t know my own phone number and I’m several miles out of town…half a mile up a road with no lighting and no sidewalk/pavement (I’ve walked it in broad daylight-it’s dangerous) and my friend Liz is a pensioner with a cane and four broken ribs (healing). Amid the panic I somehow remembered that after I bought my wallet I’d put one of my husband’s business cards in it…because it has my address and all his phone numbers. I sighed with relief as I took out the card. I had my coin purse that for once had change in it…all I needed was a phone because the Goblin wasn’t going to come pick me up until I phoned him to tell him the play was over.
Liz was perfectly calm…she knew everything would work out. She was right, but I was already in panic mode. I’m envisioning endless nightmarish possibilites of what might happen…including being stranded all night in the dark. (Yes I get hysterical) Within minutes she’d found someone and they let me use their mobile/cell phone to call the number on the front of the card. The number didn’t look exactly right, but it was on the card and so I phoned it. I got an answer machine and left a message. I thanked the man and we went in search of a payphone to call the Goblin at the end incase he didn’t get the message to just come get us. No payphones. No phones at all. Not even in the bar which shut before the end of the play so that was irrelevant. The play was really good…but by the intermission I was so stressed that if I’d been on my own I would have left then and there and walked home in the dark, but no I went back and sat down with Liz and she made me laugh telling me about the time she found this homeless deaf and mute punkrocker at a bustop and took him home (I’ve never met anyone as loving and kind as Liz…she’s ALL heart (SO Lovely!!!) – he lived there for several months until he got a job and on his feet or something) so I calmed down and watched the rest of the play…which I would have enjoyed more if I hadn’t felt the ending was like a death sentance… As soon as it was over we’d have to find a stranger and ask them to use their phone. I swear that play has about six endings…at least that’s what it felt like…every time I thought it was over…it would start up again and the screw kept turning up the anxiety level…
Liz is extremely extroverted, she asked the people sitting in front of us if I could use their phone…they were lovely and I called the number again…and got the answer machine…again… Screw tightens…I went to use the restroom and for some reason I took the business card out of my pocket and turned it over…there on the back of the card in my own handwriting was my home phone number…it was different to the number on the front of the card! I wasn’t hypervenilating, but I was feeling exceedingly ill as I washed my hands. I was so stressed I knew I wasn’t far off from fainting. I found Liz outside and told her my bad news and then left her standing there in the dark as I went back to find someone with a phone… A lovely gentleman in a tuxedo (one of the door people) let me use his phone…and he rang the number because as I told him I didn’t know how to use his phone and truly I was in such a state I was going to burst into tears…so he dialed and I sighed in relief as the phone rang…and I got the automatic answer machine… I knew calming pills were working because I didn’t burst into tears though I wanted to. I fairly calmly walked back to Liz (it was dark no one could see my stress contorted features – though I did have the sense to look up and notice the gorgeous stars in the sky). I told her I’d got the answer machine again…there was only one thing to do…go wait somewhere and pray my husband got the message and showed up. So we made it up the steps to the car park and wove our way through a blindling line of headlights all swerving around us and almost to the gap in the hedge (where several lines of cars were funnelling out one narrow lane) I saw someone standing in the distance…and then he waved…it was my Goblin! He’d come! We wouldn’t have to spend the night by the road side, wait to be picked up by the police for tresspassing or worse, have to walk home.
I suspect Liz’s evening would have been more enjoyable if I hadn’t been there. She told me as we got into the car that she hadn’t realised I was so…less calm than she thought. Yes I said, I suffer from anxiety. I’m not a calm person…not when I lose control over a situation and the endless variables pile up in my imagination like building blocks forged in the fires of hell!
When we got home I stood there and waited for the Goblin to lock the car and when he got within hearing distance I said, “I need a hug…right now!” I felt better after a nice hug!!! He said, “Did you think if you didn’t call I’d just go to bed and leave you there?” I said, “That’s what I’m programmed to expect. That’s what my parents did!” Thankfully they usually left the house unlocked, but that’s another story. As Shakespeare reminds us, All’s Well That Ends Well…
Isn’t it nice to have a dependable husband? I find qualities like reliability, dependability, steadiness, and a calm nature to be incredibly sexy. 🙂
Amen to that! When I saw my Goblin waving at us from the exact spot he dropped us off my first thought was, ‘My hero!’ The man gets cuter every year!!!
I have a friend who suffers from anxiety too. Sometimes the attacks are very severe that she can’t leave the house and like you she has a loving,supportive husband who just loves her. I’m glad you are better and take care. Victoria
Thanks Victoria! I’ve been inspired to start checking to make sure my phone is fully charged so if I end up in a pickle and in one of my hysterical states I can call my Goblin and go, “Help!”
I’ll never forget the trauma of flying back from the States via Paris (Charles de Gaule) and missing my connecting flight at Paris. I’d barely slept. I had no phone or credit card and it was my first time through that airport without any information on how to get where I needed to go because after coming through imigration they send you out onto a street. I was so stressed I could barely speak English let alone access my rudimentary French. I don’t know how I ended up getting to where I needed to go to return home because I was SO traumatised. I remember standing outside seeing these busses pass without any idea where they went or which one I might need or even where I was supposed to go. I don’t know if I asked someone or if I just got on a bus. Eventually I got to the right line and stood there sobbing not knowing how the heck I’d get home. I had no idea they’d just check me onto another flight! The Frenchman at the window was very calm and nice…and he said they’d booked me on a flight, but I’d missed it (that’s how long I stood watching busses and whirling in circles) but they put me on another plane and then I could stop hyperventilating and thinking I’d have to swim the channel and hitchhike home.
The next time I go to France it will be on the train or in a car!!!
And the next time I get on a plane I’m taking only carry-on luggage so I won’t get stuck overnight in JFK airport (or any other airport) like last time where I forced myself to stay awake most of the night (after already being awake for nearly 24 hours) because I knew if someone stole my purse/ticket I’d end up stuck in New York! That was stressful, though the sight of the rain on the runway through the red and green lights was lovely. All’s well that ends well!