Jaci Dawn

I had a bad day today. It was productive, in it’s own way, but it was not a good day emotionally or psychologically. It started out late: I could not awaken from my dreams. I broke through around 10:15 AM and struggled out of bed. I hate that – it is a side effect of the medication I take for chronic depression. Saturdays are the worst because I do not have to get up to go to work and my body rebels against the previous five days of early mornings vs. the medication (which is a generic form of Lexapro™). (Or maybe that is a Registered Mark?)

I finally got up, poured myself a cup of coffee, and tied my sneakers onto my feet. When the coffee was gone, I put the leash on Harvey and we took a quick walk through the neighborhood. It is always a nice walk: the neighborhood I live in now reminds me of the one I lived in as a child, but with the absence of sidewalks and even without sidewalks, my neighborhood is a friendly place for walking dogs, jogging, teaching children to ride bicycles, and pushing a stroller. I made Harvey sit and wait for a man who was jogging with his dog, following his two young children who were riding their very small first bikes. Harvey is such a good dog on the leash! Then we met a young couple who smiled and said what a beautiful day it was.

I started my Saturday routine of picking up, cleaning, and weekly chores – and then it hit. I was shaking, nervous, angry. I made myself some lunch, thinking it was – perhaps – a small sugar crash (I have naturally low blood sugar and eating protein and carbohydrates will often push the sugar level back up to normal). I checked my blood pressure to make certain I wasn’t having an episode (nope). I went out into the sunny back yard, sat down on the grass, and called Harvey over to me. I cried into his fur. He cuddled up to me and fell asleep on my lap, sensing (I guess) that I just needed him to stay close. I used to hug my cats when I felt like this, but since I no longer have a cat…

Harvey helped calm me down. I dug out the Holy Basil and took a dose of that.

The rest of the day, I dinged about, doing silly things like resetting my soaker hoses and establishing rocks on said hoses in order to flatten them out.

Simple steps that mean nothing in the larger scheme of life, but small steps to calming a restless soul.

I moved some planters around. Refilled the hummingbird feeders, filled the bird baths, put out new suet for the birds.

I made a promise to a neglected corner of the yard: I haven’t forgotten you need help!

I found a new home for the compost bin.

It doubles as a Harvey shield – Harvey loves to try to ding under the fence right there, behind my grapevine. Now, there’s a compost bin in the way.

I moved the wind chimes around. This isn’t a great photo because the big rhododendron commands your attention over the funky wind chime.

I even situated my chair to take maximum advantage of the peonies in my yard.

Everything worked temporarily. Nothing worked at all. I simply had to ride it out.

I feel calm now.

Even when I have to listen to these two play… (Look at that insane look. Murphy is a strange dog.)

The moral to this story is… Um… Let me think.

Be good to yourself.

Recognize that a panic attack is out of your control

Stay calm. Smell the flowers.

Hug a dog (or a cat).

Remember that this, too, shall pass.