Giant Error

Whoops

I had been out of town here and there visiting friends and family and had been doing my share of staying up later than I wanted to and going out more than I should. It was nothing too over the top and I was having fun but towards the end of my trip one Monday night I had a modest helping of food and one glass of white wine in an Italian restaurant with a former co-worker who held an unusually high-status position in my life and was ready for a solid night’s rest.

On the way home an old friend got in touch and wanted to have a quick drink. I was already in his neighborhood. I said no. I almost never say no to such an offer. I’d had enough vacation.

I was staying in luxurious quarters with my own large bedroom, and my own beautiful bathroom. My host was always making coffee or toast for herself and then making it for me and busy enough that we were staying out of each other’s way and doing work but having deep conversations in the space in between. 

The pleasure of arriving back to this free hotel providing personalized service, privacy, and intellectual stimulation was diminished only slightly by the sensation of a cold sore fizzing to life on my upper lip. I knew I had packed my Valtrex, which I sometimes forget. I was relieved this was not going to be a big deal. I could knock it out. I took one and got into bed. Within 15 minutes I was fast asleep.

Half an hour later I popped out of this sound sleep. This is not totally unheard of but this awakeness felt unusually intense. My heart was racing. I felt panicky.

I wrote to T. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me I feel like I’m having a panic attack but I’m not really having a panic attack. I don’t want to go to the hospital or anything but I feel weird and all of a sudden I’m really agitated and I went to bed in a completely chill mood, and even though the world obviously is incredibly fucked up I was feeling kind of on top of things and OK and I do not know what’s going on, but I am really freaking out right now because something is wrong.”

He wrote back that he was sorry and said maybe I had just been traveling a lot and I was discombobulated. This was reasonable but did not explain shit.

I felt crazy and scattered, but I wasn’t particularly worried about it. I got up to get a drink of water. I got back into bed. How was it possible that I was so nervous and agitated but definitely not sad?