Panic At The Disco

Avant-Propos 

I used to get so mad at my sister. 

If I even believed her ~ which I didn't at least half the time. 

I still have doubts, in fact, and still get mad about it even though she's been gone for five years now. 

I also didn't believe my doctor when he presented the diagnosis. 

I still don't believe him most of the time. 

Until it happens.

Partie Une

Ethan graduated from Pre-K the other night.

Ethan is my fifth grandbaby, my third grandson.

He is Chandler's cousin. (Chandler, my first grandson, lives with us.)

Ethan is Joshua's little brother.

Joshua, my second grandson, was Chandler's best friend¹ in the world until we lost him in a terrible accident four years ago.

I did not make it to Ethan's graduation.

It's been long enough since I had a panic attack that I had myself thoroughly convinced ~ again ~ that I do not have panic attacks. It's not that I don't believe they're real (anymore.) It's that I'm just too strong and sound and capable to have such a thing. 

Until it happens.

I also can't remember the first one that I had, but I do know that it was after we lost Josh. And that happened just a couple of months after his graduation from Pre-K at the same school that Ethan attends.

The entire day of graduation, I felt "off" but had no idea why until it was getting near time to close the shop and I realized how much I didn't want to go home. Which was weird. I mean, I do love my job but I don't usually dread leaving it at day's end. From there it wasn't hard to figure out what was wrong with me.

Which ought to be a good thing, right? Realizing the cause of an issue is usually the first right step toward correction. However, the more and the harder that I tried to be excited about my grandbaby's graduation, the faster and harder I began to spiral. Some of the reasons are obvious: triggers lead to flashbacks, etc. Another contributor was worrying about my husband's reaction to my reaction. He's a fixer and while I know that his heart is right, his efforts don't always help. And then I started thinking about all the other family that would be there and the various ways they might react, and so by the time I was face-to-face with my husband, I'd become a blubbering lump.

I wanted so much to be there.

But the thing about these panic things is that they pretty much run the show.

It's one of the reasons that I hate them as much as I do.

While I have a much lesser desire (than I used to) to control my environment,
I have a very hard time being controlled.

The reason I used to get so angry with my sister is that I was 100% positive that she could stop it if she really wanted to. 

But you really don't know what you don't know and 

I wish I hadn't had to learn this in such a difficult way.

And I wish I could tell my sister that I'm sorry. 

1 Best friendship at 4 years old may seem like a stretch, but it was the real deal with those two.