17 July 2006

On the Edge of a Panic Attack

Call me dependant on my man.

Call me a stupid defenseless girl.

Paint me whatever you wish - I don't fucking care.

Right about now, I would really love my man to be around. No, not for a moment of passion and not even for the companionship (though I would not object). I need him to kill some bugs. Oh, sweet baby Jesus...I need him to kill some bugs.

The summer I was 23, I smoked weed here and there. I never truly liked the feeling of being high. I would become even more quiet and withdrawn. I would stare at people for a little too long. I would obsess about how I wasn't saying anything and how boring I was. That same summer, our city's trees were infested with tent worms. I never liked worms but I could deal with them. I mostly just avoided them. Being high that summer and getting over some personal issues, for some reason, helped me develop this panic and fear of worms. Plus, I had a really bad first date where I found a worm in my tea - after I finished drinking it.

I guess I can't say I'm scared of any kind of worm. Seeing them fills me with panic, especially those tree worms and maggots. Even thinking of them turns my stomach. I'm pretty cool with earthworms but feel very uneasy when it rains and they are all over the side walk.

I've been a very busy bee this afternoon, getting the house all clean and tidy. Tomorrow is garbage day. I kind of put it off last garbage day and I don't put the bag outside as raccoons have been a problem lately. I take the garbage out of the can and worms. Worms. Maggots. I'm domestically embarrassed to admit that, but I suppose it has happened to everyone at least once.

I freeze. I feel shivery, cold, and dizzy.

Usually, at this point I call for my man to deal with it. Instead, I stand there and breathe deeply. This has been the only moment I have truly wanted a cigarette, as I stopped last night. I run for my bottle of hairspray to kill them, because I am that much of a girl. There are a few on the floor too. They won't die. I get hot water and disinfectant for the garbage can. I'm armed with too much paper towel to kill them. I want to vomit and I want to cry. I hate worms. I am still shaky...

Somebody give me a fucking cigarette and a shoulder to hang onto. I'm on the quivery edge of a panic attack.

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