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By Rebecca, May 30, 2011 3:12 pm

Self Loving: Biking along Chicago’s incomparable lakefront, knowing the journey is the point, not worrying about speed or distance or time. Enjoying the air, the view, the sensation of flying next to the water.

Self Loathing: Biking along Chicago’s lakefront, comparing myself to every beautiful woman I see, never feeling slim enough, curvy enough, busty enough, pretty enough.

Self Loving: Switching to a new (closer, more responsive) doctor to try and adjust my antidepressants to something more effective.

Self Loathing: Rushing into the switch (through my own laziness, not the doctor’s fault) and dropping hormone and antidepressant dosages way to fast. Panic attacks. Anxiety. Dizziness. Thoughts of self-harm.

Self Loving: Going to bed at midnight instead of two, three, four AM.

Self Loathing: Tossing and turning in bed, checking email, reading websites, IMing with friends until two, three, four AM.

Self Loving: Getting off my butt to apply for jobs, work on my show, apply for grants.

Self Loathing: Starting to apply for jobs, work on my show, apply for grants and then get overwhelmed and dizzy and lie on the couch until it goes away. Except it doesn’t, because the stress is still there.

Continue reading 'Self Lo______'»

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By Rebecca, October 21, 2009 1:52 pm

This is an excerpt from the script I’m working on for Trans Form, which is going up this December. Enjoy!

I’m fourteen, sitting on the chair in my therapist’s office.

I started going to therapy by choice, because the year before, at thirteen, I still couldn’t get past the panic attacks and separation anxiety that had kept me from sleepovers and overnight school trips and sleep-away summer camp for as long as I could remember. The pattern was always the same: I would get excited about staying at a friends’ house, at an overnight event at the Museum of Science and Industry, at whatever. I would go, convincing myself that this time would be different, that this time I’d be able to make it all night.

But as we started to get ready for bed, the panic would creep up. For those of you who have had a panic attack before, you know how it feels. To everyone else, it was a very physical sensation, a creeping along my arms and legs to my core, to my center. My blood would start to rush, tears would inevitably spring to my eyes, and if I didn’t go home, if I didn’t get away from whatever mundane childhood experience was driving me to a panic, I’d go into fullblown hysterics.

Finally, the summer after seventh grade, when I’d missed most of the seventh grade weekend trip to Wisconsin because of a panic attack, I decided  I would go to the eighth grade trip to Washington DC. So I started seeing a therapist. We worked for months on controlled breathing, biofeedback techniques, ways to divert my focus from panicking.

But the trip to DC is in the past. (I made it, by the way, and haven’t had problems being away from home since.) Now, I’m fourteen, sitting in the chair at my therapist’s office, across from my parents, about to come out to them.

Continue reading 'Coming Out'»

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By Rebecca, January 4, 2009 9:22 pm

I’m going into work as R tomorrow! Like, at my job! What the hell am I doing?!

I’m mostly sure it’ll be a good experience, but I’m still having a little bit of panic about it…

-R

Comments (1)

By Rebecca, December 10, 2008 10:20 pm

I’ve been having trouble getting to sleep the last couple nights, unable to quiet my mind as I’m laying in bed. Specifically, I’ve been feeling a pit-of-the-stomach panic, the likes of which I haven’t experienced in at least a few months.

It’s no fun.

SS said I should take her therapist’s advice from a while ago and exercise lots while avoid sugar, booze, and caffiene, which is probably always good advice but does make particular sense in terms of having excess nervous energy.

But I just want this panic to go away!

-R