There are a few things I totally hate doing. Not like agoraphobia-related undertakings like eating in crowded restaurants or being stopped at traffic lights, but regular everyday stuff. At the top of the list is waking up early.

This may be because I tend to go to bed when many of my older friends are just waking up. In other words, LATE (or early, depending on your perspective). During the day I can be as tired as a one-legged woman in a butt-kicking contest, but as soon as the moon rises, I am ready to start my day.
This is fine if one lives in a 24-hour town like Las Vegas, but I live in a sleepy little town of about 11,000. There is just one Starbucks. There is no mall. There are only two ramps off the freeway that lead to my town. Needless to say, there aren’t a lot of people awake when I am.

I think this night owl behavior was initially a product of my agoraphobia and secondary depression. For example, going to get gas at midnight is much less traumatic than doing so at noon. But, if I have to go out into the real world before the sun has set, sunglasses are mandatory. I have this strange obsession that people can see the fear in my eyes. Covering them makes me less conspicuous. Also, wearing shades mimics nighttime. My brain can’t tell the difference. This is good.

Nighttime is also quiet. Fewer interruptions, fewer commitments, less overall responsibility. With this freedom also comes fewer excuses I have to make to friends and family about not engaging in normal “let’s-meet-for-lunch” rituals. Today, I am much better about saying “That won’t work for me (lunch, shopping, hiking…), but this will.” Then, I offer an alternative to what such well-intentioned friends have offered.

But before I could state my needs as clearly and as guilt-free, I had become the master of excuses. I wonder why everyone just didn’t give up on me completely. I guess my excuses were pretty convincing. Actually, I think most people with the challenges of anxiety and depression become master manipulators. Not malicious manipulators, but, rather, skillful sculptors of conversation. For example, if a person I am talking to begins discussing how someone had a heart attack next to him, I can cleverly maneuver the conversation in a new and (for me) panic-free direction.

I am so gifted at this art that nearly 100% of the time my conversation partner is clueless as to what just transpired. I must have a list of hundreds of “off-limits” conversation topics. Being a highly sensitive person makes my list that much longer. In my defense, I’ve had to develop this skill to protect myself from a constant onslaught of panic-provoking stimuli. Most people haven’t a clue that certain topics are real triggers for a lot of people. Being so vigilant does take a lot of energy, however. Monitoring and scanning the environment is physically and psychologically depleting. This is why I have found the “That won’t work for me (lunch, shopping, hiking…), but this will” statement so much more empowering. I’ll also say now, “I’m sorry to interrupt, but this topic makes me ill, nervous, depressed, etc.” Most people just change topics with little hesitation. But, again, I digress…

Back to getting up early… I hate it even if I somehow managed to go to bed at a normal hour. I hate it so much that it makes me nauseated. My eyes feel like burnt holes in blankets. I get migraine headaches. To top it off, I have an ultra-sensitivity to alarm clocks. Can’t stand them. If I were President, I would ban all alarm clocks during my first 100 hours in office. Loud sounds startle me like a lot of people, I assume. But, unlike most people, the result of being startled remains with me for hours — seriously, hours. And, even my sacred shower is painful in the morning. I usually love showers (again, the showering, not the after-grooming…), but the water on my early-morning skin feels like daggers.

Of course, I am not even touching upon the subject of pre-dawn awakenings.
God, no. That is just not tolerable, period. I’ve only been discussing pre-10:00 AM risings. My husband is a night owl, too. That’s a plus for our marriage. But, unlike me, he has the amazing ability to sleep only 4-5 hours, get up, and feel invigorated after a quick shower. He’d get up pre-dawn with pleasure even if it meant he was going to do something he loves like go skiing or paragliding.
Yikes. So not for me. In fact, I feel so bad because next month he’s leaving on an overseas trip at 4:00 AM. Poor me. I must appear to be a mean, selfish, and spoiled wife by not taking him to the airport. Honestly, I’m not spoiled (or mean or selfish). I just absolutely cannot physically get up that early. Doing so goes against my very hardwired, fundamental survival mechanism.

Don’t even get me started about the intense pressure I have just falling asleep under normal circumstances (i.e., not having to wake up early, and not having my usual knock-out meds on board).
Just add to the equation having to get up pre-dawn, and the pressure turns into paralysis. This is something I really want to change. I kind of envy the people who look forward to getting up with the sun — people who look forward to doing as much as they can during the day. I envy those people because this eagerness usually coincides with an ability to fall asleep early, without pills of any kind. And, I imagine, their dreams are not violent and intense, but calm and rather unremarkable. I have a feeling once I get the benzodiazepines out of my system for good that all of this may change. Some girls dream of vacations in Paris, I dream of having a normal circadian rhythm.

Backstory complete. Now, this morning I had to get up at 6:00 AM. Not to go skiing, but to get blood drawn for my doctor’s appointment tomorrow. So that’s a combination of a thing the “physical me” hates with a thing the “agoraphobic me” avoids at all costs. I had the alarm go off and everything. I was so afraid I’d suddenly become possessed and drink some orange juice, ruin my 12-hour fast and have to start all over again (and set the alarm for a second day in a row). At least at six this morning the sun was up. Actually, it was a lovely morning. (Did I just say that?) I made a call to my bunny’s vet after my appointment, and guess what? The office wasn’t open yet! This is a first for me. Usually I have to rush to get those type of calls in before the office closes.

And, the blood draw went kind of spectacularly. I did my “eagle-jaguar meditation” in the waiting room, telling myself I am in control of my life and that I CHOOSE to be there. It helped. I accomplished my mission with flying colors. Then, my husband and I went hiking. We hiked in the amazing Saguaro National Park. Gorgeous. I was anxious at first, but I made it and enjoyed myself immensely. We even came across this beautiful roadrunner, but that’s a story for another day… or night