Just Got Served, But It Wasn’t Dinner

There are papers in my lap.

Everyone knows that when the mailman knocks on your door, and you’re not expecting anything, it’s always bad news. Ok, if you’ve ever been through this before. I’ve always been partial to days where there was no mail. “No gnus is good gnus!”.

I’ve left you hanging long enough. C.S. was served this morning with papers summoning him to district court as the defendant in a civil suit. Well, more like I was served, because I was home for the mail – oh, and it’s also partially my money they’re suing for.

Remember the car accident I reference here and there? It happened in the before time, before Pendulum, before Lulu, before Canvas. But it’s not been so long that it happened long, long ago in a galaxy far, far away.

The details are a little complicated, but I’ll make it brief. C.S. had his first car accident ever when he was T-boned coming from an off ramp from the highway. The impact was so bad, it spun the car 180 and back down the ramp. C.S. suffered a neck sprain and a concussion. He wasn’t right for awhile and his neck still hurts. But, since there was no evidence, no definitive fault was found and neither insurance company paid out.

The woman who was driving the car wasn’t even the owner. The owner wasn’t even present at the accident at any point. And yet, he is pursuing this suit.

I’ve been in fight or flight all day. My adrenaline was going and it seemed to jump start all systems. I thought I was going to fly into another hypomanic episode. It sure felt like it.

Until, I noticed I had anxiety before I went to work. I breathed it away, and thought I’d be OK. And I was. Except, I had some kind of intense panic attack while I was teaching Kindergarten today. It was the “frozen in the headlights” kind of panic. I just stopped, and stood there. I’ve never had this happen before while teaching.

It didn’t stop there. The bus was unusually crowded. I don’t like tight spaces. My sitter didn’t answer her phone when I called. The panic grew. By the time I got to the store to shop for T.D.’s birthday presents, everything looked strange and threatening.

I kept telling myself that there was no logical reason for it. I was safe. It helped a little. But what helped the most is telling myself that this would pass. I didn’t know how long it was going to take, but it would go away.

I realized that many of my responses to situations are fight or flight. Mostly, I fight. That could be the reason why my life seems like a battlefield to me. But sometimes, I have flight for no reason. Why did I suddenly freeze up?

What is it always something. Can’t I make it six months without some kind of trouble or drama?