Birth Day.
These past few weeks have been weird. Ups and downs left and right. My birthday was ok. The night before I went out and had some drinks. Fawn and Erik were the only one of my friends that showed up. Everyone else either couldn't make it or just straight out ditched me. Eh. Whatever.
Almost all of Mike's friends came out and Ryan and Scott ended up buying me a fucking metric shit ton of shots. And you know I don't drink liquor anymore. Fuck, I was wasted. I didn't even stay until the bar closed, I left and passed out at home at 1am. Yes. Just that drunk.
I wake up the next day so drunk still I can barely function, and with the knowledge that Rachel is taking me to the Sigur Ros concert and I'm going to have to drive to Seattle and back. So not ok with that. I don't know why, but driving to and from Seattle gives me anxiety attacks something major. I started getting panicky before I even left the house. I begged my Dad to drive me to the concert but he had to be at work at 4am the next morning, so there was no way he could do it. After a few seconds of puppy dog eyes at Mike, he agreed to drive me up there, hang around Seattle until the concert was over, and then drive me back home. Just another reason why I love him so much. He knows how I am and how I get and he takes care of me when I need it.
So we drive up to Seattle and have some food at the Triple Door. That bar was ridiculously cool. Rachel showed me that there was a little room with a huge window in it that looked down on a stage where a folk band was playing. It was very impressive. I'm going to have to check out what perfomances they have coming up and try to make it to one of them. That place was rad.
So we finish eating and go to Benaroya Hall. We get inside and find our seats and the minute I open the door to go out to the balcony that we're sitting on my breath feels like it's being ripped right out of my chest. Benaroya Hall is resemblant of an opera house. On all three sides surrounding the stage there are rows and rows and rows of balconies. It's really quite beautiful. We were in the top balcony directly in front of the stage. It was a great view. But instead of fully enjoying it like any normal person would, I started getting panicky again.
Sigur Ros came on and I knew none of their songs, nothing about them, but they were really...? I don't even really know how to describe it. They played a very visual set, not with, you know, pyrotechnics or anything that I'm used to in the heavy metal concert genre. There were huge chinese lanterns above the stage and they either lit up with different colors or had pictures of dolls faces and other such weird abstract things projected onto them. The whole show was absolutely dreamlike and ethereal. It made it so much weirder that nobody was cheering or applauding at all until they were done with a song. It was definitively quiet during their songs. I felt apart from reality. I felt not really there. And that's probably really awesome for people without anxiety but for me? Kick started me right into an anxiety attack. I started major freaking out, stomach turning, dizziness, you name it. I felt like I was going to fall right off the balcony. I tried to keep it under control until the show ended, but about a few songs before they were done I had to get up and leave. I didn't want to tell Rachel because I know she LOVES Sigur Ros and I didn't want to make the rest of her experience lame because of me. I went down into the bathroom with absolute intention of going back up to my seat after I splashed some cold water on my face and slapped myself around a bit. But I felt a rumble in my stomach and ended up puking in one of the bathrooms. I was woozy, I was more than nauseated, and I was attacking pretty badly. I stumbled out of the bathroom and headed straight for the car. Mike had gone to see a movie and I knew where the car was parked, a few blocks away in a back alley that I wasn't too keen on walking on my own. Luckily before I even reached the end of the block he pulled up right next to me. I was so grateful for that. I got in and attempted to pass out on the way home. Haha, yeah right. Like I can ever go to sleep while someone else is driving. I got home and took a Xanax and passed the fuck out. That was how I turned 27.
Almost all of Mike's friends came out and Ryan and Scott ended up buying me a fucking metric shit ton of shots. And you know I don't drink liquor anymore. Fuck, I was wasted. I didn't even stay until the bar closed, I left and passed out at home at 1am. Yes. Just that drunk.
I wake up the next day so drunk still I can barely function, and with the knowledge that Rachel is taking me to the Sigur Ros concert and I'm going to have to drive to Seattle and back. So not ok with that. I don't know why, but driving to and from Seattle gives me anxiety attacks something major. I started getting panicky before I even left the house. I begged my Dad to drive me to the concert but he had to be at work at 4am the next morning, so there was no way he could do it. After a few seconds of puppy dog eyes at Mike, he agreed to drive me up there, hang around Seattle until the concert was over, and then drive me back home. Just another reason why I love him so much. He knows how I am and how I get and he takes care of me when I need it.
So we drive up to Seattle and have some food at the Triple Door. That bar was ridiculously cool. Rachel showed me that there was a little room with a huge window in it that looked down on a stage where a folk band was playing. It was very impressive. I'm going to have to check out what perfomances they have coming up and try to make it to one of them. That place was rad.
So we finish eating and go to Benaroya Hall. We get inside and find our seats and the minute I open the door to go out to the balcony that we're sitting on my breath feels like it's being ripped right out of my chest. Benaroya Hall is resemblant of an opera house. On all three sides surrounding the stage there are rows and rows and rows of balconies. It's really quite beautiful. We were in the top balcony directly in front of the stage. It was a great view. But instead of fully enjoying it like any normal person would, I started getting panicky again.
Sigur Ros came on and I knew none of their songs, nothing about them, but they were really...? I don't even really know how to describe it. They played a very visual set, not with, you know, pyrotechnics or anything that I'm used to in the heavy metal concert genre. There were huge chinese lanterns above the stage and they either lit up with different colors or had pictures of dolls faces and other such weird abstract things projected onto them. The whole show was absolutely dreamlike and ethereal. It made it so much weirder that nobody was cheering or applauding at all until they were done with a song. It was definitively quiet during their songs. I felt apart from reality. I felt not really there. And that's probably really awesome for people without anxiety but for me? Kick started me right into an anxiety attack. I started major freaking out, stomach turning, dizziness, you name it. I felt like I was going to fall right off the balcony. I tried to keep it under control until the show ended, but about a few songs before they were done I had to get up and leave. I didn't want to tell Rachel because I know she LOVES Sigur Ros and I didn't want to make the rest of her experience lame because of me. I went down into the bathroom with absolute intention of going back up to my seat after I splashed some cold water on my face and slapped myself around a bit. But I felt a rumble in my stomach and ended up puking in one of the bathrooms. I was woozy, I was more than nauseated, and I was attacking pretty badly. I stumbled out of the bathroom and headed straight for the car. Mike had gone to see a movie and I knew where the car was parked, a few blocks away in a back alley that I wasn't too keen on walking on my own. Luckily before I even reached the end of the block he pulled up right next to me. I was so grateful for that. I got in and attempted to pass out on the way home. Haha, yeah right. Like I can ever go to sleep while someone else is driving. I got home and took a Xanax and passed the fuck out. That was how I turned 27.