LADEELEROY

2002-08-30

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How To Have A Panic Attack Without Even Trying
 
  Let's face it: Panic Attacks are where it's at today. All the kids are doing it- it's the #1 American past time for those that are under alot of stress and the #7 most scary thing a person can go through in the middle of the night. (As compared to "Stud Beams Falling From Ceiling" which has moved up to #6 this year.)

Not wanting to be left out of this new and fashionable craze, I guess my subconscience decided it wanted to take a walk on the Panic Side.

Now, I know that all you crazy kooky kids out there want to dress like LadeeLeroy. You want to eat what LadeeLeroy eats. You want to live the high-flying LadeeLeroy lifestyle. If you want to have the full experience of being a LadeeLeroy poser, you need to buy your ticket on the Panic Attack Express.

All Panic Attacks are different, but I find that my method of giving yourself one is fool-proof.

First, you need to get yourself a sick sibling. That's right, they're hard to find, but I know you can do it. Check your local day care center or maternal womb. Make sure that this sibling is sick in the sense that there's no way in knowing if this sibling is ever going to get better. Tricky, yes, but do it if you want the full LadeeLeroy adventure.

Okay. Now. You have to make yourself care incredible amounts for this sibling. You have to make yourself think about this sibling the moment you go to sleep and the minute you wake up.

How's that feeling? Wait, there's more.

So say that this sibling not only goes through a life changing transplant, but then begins to suffer from complications from the same transplant that's supposed to be helping him or her. Let's say that the bone marrow is fantastic! Let's say that it goes right on into the body and it starts engrafting itself and regenerating and rah rah rah!

Just for shits and giggles, lets say that this same bone marrow is working TOO good. It's working so well that it starts to attack your sibling's body because, well, shit- that's what healthy marrow does- it attacks what is weak and speak of the devil!, your sibling's immune system is weak- because that's what happens when someone undergoes transplants and has thousands of needles pricking him or her everyday and has doctors and nurses coming in and out every twenty minutes to take blood pressure and listen to the heart and ask the same questions and try to joke around about "How eating is what makes you strong" but it's a tad hard to eat when your sibling has these mouth sores that hurt so much that your sibling can't even talk properly because of the pain it causes and why the fuck would your sibling want to laugh when he or she has been in the same fucking bed for the last three weeks and nothing is improving?

Okay. Did you feel all that? Are you still along on this little LadeeLeroy ride o' fun? Good. Keep your feet and hands inside the car because it gets funner. Oh yes, kiddos! This is a Blast and a fucking half.

Toss in being in a relationship with a sensitive musician that 'feels like he's about to give birth.' Since he's a sensitive musician, he sometimes speaks in metaphors, so he explains to you that by 'giving birth' he means 'he's in the midst of some changes about his music career' and that sometimes these 'changes are painful.' Toss in an argument right before the two of you go to sleep about house chores, reasons for the lack of intimacy lately,space issues and make your sensitive musician boyfriend tell you, "I try to become immune to your feelings of sadness so that I can be there for you." When you say that you don't want to your sensitive musician boyfriend to be immune, but to just be there for you make him sensitivly say, "I would be there for you but I always end up regretting it because it takes away from time I need to spend on my music." Sit in silence for a bit, chew on the collar on your shirt. Wait for the sensitvie musician boyfriend say, "When I got into this relationship, I knew that we would be pillars for our creative needs. You have your writing and acting and I have my music career. I have to say that lately you've really done nothing that serves your creativeness and it's disappointing and really affecting how I feel in this relationship."

Call your sensitive musician a fucking asshole. Say things like, "Selfish," "Egotistical," and "Fucking Asshole." Try explaining that a relationship is about giving and taking and that, just in case he hadn't noticed, you're having a bit of a fucking depressing couple of months and maybe he doesn't really understand exactly how hard all of this is and that, yeah, I may spend my evenings in fucking front of the television and not writing a god damn masterpiece because television lets my brain not think and kind of numbs whatever is going on in it. Kind of like when a sensitive musician sits down and composes because his brain might explode if he doesn't. It's sort of the samething, but in an opposite kind of way. And maybe, just maybe I wouldn't do this if I had someone around that didn't try to make himself "immune" to an obviously sad and stressful situation.

Listen as the sensitive musician says, "That he can't give you what you need right now" because it compromises his priorities.

Call the sensitive musician a fucking asshole and say in a sarcastic tone that "You're sorry that he has to work a full time job and has to live with a shitty girlfriend like yourself. Life just isn't fair sometimes."

Watch as the sensitive musician grabs a pillow and walks out of the room saying, "I don't like your tone of voice. I'm trying to talk to you in a normal way but you've got this defensive and demeaning tone in your voice that I just can't stand."

Say something in response to this, but then forget what it was when you try to reaccount it.

Oh, hold on kids! The long awaited panic-attack is coming!

As you lay there in your bed, feel your entire body ache at once. The feeling is almost that of aching in waves. Ebbs and flows. Feel your eyes burn and your throat swell and your stomach churn on the four beers it drank.

Then, stuff your mouth with a blanket, shove your face into a pillow and just scream.

And scream. And fucking scream.

A silent, muffled sort of scream that is followed by muffled sobs that begin to resemble the same sort of seizure-like spasms you got that one time you puked so hard you couldn't breathe.

Cry so hard that your abdomen starts to burn from contracting so much. Listen to yourself try to grasp for air in between the gigantic sobs that shake the bed, the floor, the house. Feel your heart pound in your ears all the way down to the bottom of your feet.

Watch as your brain supplies you with a never ending montage of pictures of your sick sibling hooked to machines, going through CAT scans, puking into pails, having blood drawn. Check out the colors, man! The fucking vivid colors!

Try to breathe. Realize that you can't because your body is trying so hard to stop crying.

Feel the panic when you truly beleive that you may actually cry forever. Fall into the realization that your heart is rapidly beating. Try to gather yourself.

Realize that you are beyond gathering.

Suddenly feel a hand on your shoulder. Smell the sensitive musician in the room. Feel as he strokes your head and tells you to "Breathe deeply from here" as his hand gently places itself on your abdomen.

Watch how you seem to cry even harder now, but the breathes come much easier in between. Think breifly to yourself, "Well if I do die from this, at least the sensitive musician will be here to call my Mom when it happens."

Let time pass. Let the strokes on the head soothe you. Watch how your body slowly lets itself become more relaxed. Let the tears continue to cascade, but turn your pillow over because it's drenched in snot and spit and tears.

Put your hand on your heart, realize that it's still there and did not actually fall out of your mouth during one of those crying jags.

Be relieved.

Lie in the dark with the sensitive musician by your side. Listen as he tries to explain why he said the things he said and relates situations from his childhood as a sort of sacrafice for his reasoning.

Silently think to yourself that he's just as scared as you are about everything- the sibling situation, the being trapped in a lifestyle that drains you instead of aids you in your search for your cliche dream, being in a relationship that allows you to feel loved, but at the sametime leaves you feeling vulnerable at times....

Hear yourself say, "I do love you."

Count the seconds it takes for him to say, "I love you, too."

1.... 2......3.....

And then fall asleep.

Wake up 4 hours later to your alarm going off, an empty bed, and numb lips.

Watch as sensitive musician bounds into the room, kisses you quickly without saying a word and then goes to work.

Wonder what the fuck you're going to do with yourself as you sit in traffic, numb to all that is around you.

************

And there you've got it! Follow this to the 'T' and I'll guarantee you that you'll have yourself a panic attack and all the shittiness that goes along with it!

Enjoy the extended weekend!

 
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Copyright 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004 L.Leroy