Helium Freaks Me Out, But Not More Than Balloons

On Tuesday, in the middle of the afternoon, my stomach started to feel uneasy.  I have clocked in many hours with my body warped by anxiety so I know when anxiety is the reason I am twisted up and uncomfortable, passing out, or hyperventilating.  I was getting nauseous because I was more anxious than usual.  I concentrated on taking lots of deep breaths to relax my muscles and mind.  I drank water to cool myself down.  I stretched out my body repeatedly.  I laid down for a while.  I also tried to pinpoint the source of the anxiety attack (for that's what I was experiencing). 

Unlike with depression, anxiety is often triggered by something specific- like being asked to blow up 12 balloons with the helium tank that you've never used and then realizing that you're going to have to explain to your boss that you can't do it because balloons make you freak out.  Plus there's the fact that the helium tank looks like a missile and could potentially blow up*.  Anyway, something as simple as suddenly having to tangle with 12 balloons might send someone like me into a panic attack.   The best thing I can do for myself when in the middle of an anxiety attack (or right at the beginning is even better) is to figure out what the trigger is.  If you know what caused your irrational tailspin you have a chance of talking yourself down off the ledge.

I knew what it was and it really bothered me because it was obstructive for me to harbor anxieties over this: my Kung Fu class.  I love Kung Fu!  So how could the thought of going to class in a couple of hours make me get physically sick to my stomach?  This is the part where I have to remind you that this is what makes anxiety a pesky little devil to live with- the irrationality of it.  Yes, I love Kung Fu, but there are some aspects of it that cause my system to want to shut down:

• Every class is different.  The teacher never gives the exact same exercises.  This is good in some ways because it means I am never bored of anything we're doing.  But my nervous system can't stand any uncertainties.  Never knowing what to expect from class means that there's always room to worry about what the hell we're going to have to do.

• New activities are just as difficult as unpredictable ones for my nervous system.  If I have to do something new in class, (which so far has been the case every single class), then there's that much more room for failure.  "What if I can't do what the teacher is asking me to?"

• Shifting classmates...ah hell, I mean this is exactly the same as the first two.  I never know exactly who is coming to class so I wonder who I will be partnered up with and whether or not that will effect my experience negatively.  Some people kind of scare me.  And don't forget that I have a lot of issues getting up close and personal with people not approved to be in my skin-zone (which is most people).

• Shadow Boxing.  I hate it.  I mean: I would rather sprain my ankle than have to jump around punching and kicking the air with an imaginary opponent.  This is improv** for the martial arts crowd and I can't possibly emphasize strongly enough how much it freaks me out.  I never know when the teacher will make us do it so that's unpredictable pain I might experience.  It's the only thing I have done in Kung Fu class that I really really hate.

I tried to apply some cognitive behavioral therapy on myself and wasn't at all successful.  Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't.  I kept reminding myself that I have enjoyed every single class I've been to and have been capable of doing everything that's been asked of me so far.  Why should tonight be any different?  I went to the class anyway, even though I felt like lying on a cold floor like a lizard on a rock in winter.  I went because I knew I would end up enjoying the class if only my stomach would let up.

As it turns out- the class was really great.  Not surprising.  I got to spend the evening being thrown violently to the ground by Amy and Roger.  We were practicing a move to avoid getting punched in the face and using the attacker's arm as a lever to throw them down.  Sometimes when we learn these kinds of moves it's hard to feel whether or not you could really work it out there in the wild.  Sometimes the moves only throw your opponent off balance and so in class we fall gently down.  Not this time.  This move had power and it was fun!  So even though I was still sore from the previous week, and even though under normal circumstances I would never let another human being throw me around like that- it was making me laugh!  I mean- every single time my partners did the move on me I was literally thrown down with little effort and no ceremony what-so-ever! 

When it was my turn to toss them around I couldn't believe how easy it was to toss them down.  I mean this move was like magic and made me feel like I might have a chance out there in the world if I ever got attacked.  I was especially pleased to throw Roger down without much trouble because though he isn't a tall man, he is SOLID AS A ROCK.  The dude is very strong and, though this is appropos of nothing, he's covered in tattoos...and I was able to get him to the ground!  (The word "fling" comes to mind here...flinging strong men to the ground- ha!  So much fun!!)

It seems that I like my Kung Fu with a lot of testosterone.  I'm incredibly sore today.  I hope tonight's class is going to be a mellow one in comparison.  Like playing with sticks and knives maybe.




*I know that helium is an inert gas and can't blow up (because I just looked it up) but those tanks apparently CAN explode.  Whatever.  Helium freaks me out.  But not more than balloons.

**I hate improvisational anything.  Not kidding.  Having to improvise with my body (acting, dancing, sports) is physical and mental torture to me and I am still haunted by the improv session I had to do to try and get into the Dickens Fair.  Or was it the Renaissance Fair?  I believe I decided not to take part in the fairs on an official basis just to avoid having to return to that horrifying improv class.