Alone & Anxiety Attacks

Last week when I dropped my stoicism, my grief for the Boy kicked in. Living alone, I had nothing to normalize it like I did in other traumatic situtations. When Jack and I broke up before we were married, my good friend from college, Carrie, moved in. I had someone to talk about movies with, and ask if we needed more carrots from the grocery store. Plus, I could still do my own thing--come and go as I please.

When Jack and I broke up before, there was no other trauma in our lives other than the break-up. Now, we each have to adjust to the Boy being gone, and being alone. Being alone is horrible. Being alone and in limbo is worse. Jack and I neither together nor moving forward or backwards. We are stuck in a holding pattern.

When the first wave of grief hit, I had no one to talk to, so I called Ellen then my dad, and then I had a piano lesson so I talked to my piano teacher. At some point, I couldn't call a friend. I had to go to sleep. I had to get up in the morning and go to work. My mind was racing, my heart was pounding, and I had a buzzing in my chest. I couldn't really control my thoughts. I had the same sense Friday afternoon at work a few weeks ago when I was looking at spending the weekend alone.

Am I have an anxiety attack? I wondered. Is the stress of the Boy's situation finally maxed out? How can I handle this?

And then I thought, Is this what the Boy feels like all of the time? Is this what he feels like when he hasn't done his Latin homework for two weeks and had a test? (His choice to study a dead language, not mine.) Is this what he feels like when he is looking a big project for school with lots of steps?

I suppose I am lucky that I only feel this way when I am having major stress, like having my kid go into Wilderness therapy and then off to a therapeutic boarding school instead of having this as part of my day-to-day.

I talked to a friend at work and said I was stressed out about the Boy going to boarding school.

"You know this is what he needs," he said. "So don't stress." He is right. How can I stress when I know the Boy is getting better? I think this is my delayed stress--the stress I was setting aside while the Boy was laying in bed all day. The anxiety I supressed because I needed to mobilize and get him help. I couldn't fall apart while he was home because that wouldn't have helped him get better. Now that he is gone--and making solid progress--I can afford to slide into emotional duress.