Over The Hill Health Matters

I have once again taken a craft service job in the film industry. I am classified as a chef-driver, and while I love the chef part of the 20-plus hours a day job on a film set, I am no longer a confident, happy driver.

I have been recently plagued with chronic panic or anxiety attacks while driving and this has really cramped my style — and significantly reduced my paycheque. I have refused work in order to avoid the overwhelming panic and anxiety that my negotiating the major highways and intersections now involves.

My quality of life has obviously suffered as a result.

My fellow craft workers are ecstatic because they get my job, but that is par for the course in the film industry.

Such a glamorous, noble life. True friends and comrades — until they are up against you for the next contract.

In this economy, the competition is cutthroat. I’m surprised that none of us has become unhinged enough to poison the opposition. After all, we deal with everyone’s food every day… hmmm.

Wait a minute! Perhaps my side mirror was fine and then someone loosened the… Let’s not go there!

Let’s look at this Panic Away free seven-day mini course. The first day was somewhat disappointing, as it was missing, or consisted of “Welcome to the seven-day mini-course.” The second day, today, said that in order to diffuse panic attacks, we should invite them.

“Bring it on, panic attack! I’ll get you and your little anxiety dog too!”

Apparently, my body is safe, even if I feel like I am about to be killed during this distress.

My anxiety attacks at intersections came out of nowhere. There seemed to be no reason for them, except that a personal dislike for waiting at intersections seemed to be escalating into an unfathomable fear of such a normal occurrence. This went on for a year, without me being able to do anything to prevent them, or know of any underlying reason for them.

Chronic panic is not fun.

As any chronic will tell you.

I’m not a druggy, it’s just a little humor to lighten the load.

If you are a druggy, and it’s working for you, I am not sitting in judgment either!

One lovely winter day, I was at the front of the line at a red light, on a little side road. I was not having an anxiety attack, as these only occurred at large, multi-lane intersections.

A van came around the corner and failed to negotiate a safe turn. It slid on a small, indiscernible patch of ice and proceeded to hit me on the front corner of the driver’s side of my little Asuna Sunrunner. I was fine, but the young man driving the van was a nervous wreck as he had just got his license.

My anxiety attacks at intersections subsided immediately. I only started to get them again recently, and again for no immediately apparent reason.

The same with bridges. A couple of years ago, I developed chronic panic attacks as I approached bridges. Especially bridges that arched into the air, as opposed to, say, level bridges over train tracks, although that came later.

Sure enough, three months after I started getting these inexplicable panic attacks, chunks of the Gardiner expressway in Toronto, where I work, began to fall off onto unsuspecting drivers passing below on Lakeshore Boulevard.

A couple of bridges around the city collapsed due to excess rain undermining embankments and it became public knowledge that many of Toronto’s bridges were in need of replacement or major repair.

My anxiety near bridges backed off as these events manifested.

My maternal side is full of psychic granny tea-leaf readers. I’ve dabbled with the Tarot in the past myself. We are somewhat “open”, as people so delicately put it.

It would appear that my own anxiety attacks were of a premonitory nature. Some part of me seemed to be aware that I would be hit at an intersection in the near future, and just miss having a chunk of concrete hit my car as I travelled down the Lakeshore.

The general anxiety seemed to come from not knowing the particulars, as in exactly what intersection I was to be hit at, or exactly what bridge was to fall apart and get me. It was as if my larger self knew only enough to give us both major anxiety, but not enough to avoid the situation, unless I became a nervous wreck and avoided driving entirely.

That type of premonition is useless to anyone. It is abusive to give a living being of any level just enough information to torture it, but not enough to avoid such negative situations.

So tomorrow, I’ll try Panic Away’s advice and face the highway. Bring it on, chronic panic attack! I invite the challenge. Bring it on! (Gulp.)

Pat