Lock Down

I went for a walk this morning. I’ve learned if I take Roxie for a walk in the early AM, I see fewer people walking their dogs, and it’s a lot less stressful for both of us that way. She still has rotten manners when she sees a dog coming towards us from the opposite direction, and her behavior doesn’t help me much AT ALL. But after visiting my psychiatrist and confessing that I’ve gained about 8-10 lbs., I decided that I had to MAKE myself do it. By now, I have some strategies that work for me, but I still have some super bad panic from time to time.

The strategy that works best to help me keep my cool is the ostrich/golfing strategy. I wear a big floppy rimmed hat to cover my eyes, and keep my head down, as if there is a golf ball I am trying to hit. It doesn’t help when there is a particularly unruly dog coming toward us because Roxie is guaranteed to growl and carry on like the rescue animal that she is. I am committed to getting back into exercising outside, and I’m not willing to give up my beloved trail walks, so I continue to work on going outside as often as I can. It used to be every day, but now I’m happy if I get out there twice a week. Baby steps.

I also have a new route that I walk. For specific and compelling reasons, too many depressing ones to mention, I can’t walk the route I used to walk with Hardy. I don’t ever want to retrace those steps ever again, so I don’t push it, and walk different routes practically every time I take Roxie out there. There are a couple of new things I like to do when I walk. I like to take in at least one steep hill, preferably towards the beginning of the walk, and I like to make it down to the grassy area that borders a neighborhood park, so I can let Roxie off leash a little bit in a somewhat safe area. There are rarely any other dogs in this grassy fenced in area, and it’s shady and green and relaxing. I can breathe there.

Just when I think things are going to be free and easy, something inevitably happens that makes my skin crawl. The first happened on my nephew’s birthday celebration day – I just couldn’t celebrate on the actual day. That was when I went walking with my brother and his boys to throw the Frisbee around. The grassy park was the Frisbee haven where the men threw a disk like only Santa Cruz Slug Alum and his college kids could. It was spectacular, and Roxie more than anyone else, seemed to really like this excursion. It happened when we were returning home that day when I noticed out of the corner of my eye a couple walking their pit bull – off leash. I started to panic and ran home with Roxie in my arms, got to the front door, attempted to open it, and it was locked. Thankfully, my son opened the door, so I could enter the house and collapse on the floor in tears, whining about when I would ever be whole again.

The family didn’t quite know what to make of my behavior. They were a little out of practice. I’ve been working everyday and the parents at the elementary school where I teach have been diligent about keeping their dogs at home. In any case, the good news was that I didn’t have a full-blown panic attack. The bad news? I was not able to function for about 10 minutes because I was tearfully breaking down in a similar location on the inside of a house, looking out the window, watching for safety to return to our quiet, peaceful neighborhood. Meanwhile, that couple waltzed down the block oblivious about my plight. So unfair.

Suffice it to mention, it ruined my day, but I was proud of the fact that I didn’t have a full-blown panic attack. The next event was worse, however. Again I went for a walk early in the AM, and both my husband and my daughter had both left to work. There is a signal I leave them to keep the door unlocked so I may enter easily. I don’t usually bring along a key when I walk, so on this occasion, I returned to my home, and our scary, violent neighbor was in his car with his pit bull waiting to go inside (after I was out of eye shot). Our neighbors run a child care next door, and I’m certain that they didn’t want me to see their dog go into the backyard – as if I haven’t seen it before. UGH!

In any case, I’m scared of this particular neighbor and his pit bull. It was NOT a convenient time for me to be locked outside of my home while he was outside – especially because he was with his dog. I tried to endure without losing it, but all I could think about was that I wanted to get inside, and I couldn’t do that because I was locked out at the gate and at the front door. He finally decided to take his dog out of the car and, off leash, called the dog inside their back yard – right in front of me. It was too much for me to handle; I panicked. I ran to the side of the house where no one could see me, and I proceeded to kick down the fence until there was enough room so I could pass through.  Back inside the safety of my home, I shut down and locked myself in my room until family came home to comfort me hours later.

I hate that my pain and fear isn’t something people can read. My family can see when I am freaking out, but otherwise all of my anxiety and panic happens on the inside of me; it’s not noticeable to insignificant others. Most folks think I’m okay, but I still struggle, and it seems like the bulk of my struggle occurs one or two doors down from my house. Additionally, I have to continually make adjustments in my daily routines from over a YEAR ago. It reminds me that wounds of the psyche are just as challenging to heal as wounds of the flesh. Maybe even more so.