On Phobia.

I sometimes wonder nowadays if I even still suffer from Agoraphobia (fear of crowds), or if what' s left is just garden variety social awkwardness. That my unwillingness to join social groups is good old fashioned Loner-hood. That my lack of going to plays and concerts and such is just pure laziness.

But no, I can still feel it lurking back there, waiting for the wrong circumstances to blow up.

What's happened, I think, is that I've gotten very good at avoiding or at least ameliorating those negative circumstances. Working at the store everyday has socialized me. People who know me from the store would never guess that I have a 'shyness' gene.

It was interesting to watch all my nephews and nieces, who are all in their late teens and early twenties, exercising their social skills, trying things on for size, reveling in the joining of adults. I got sort of sidetracked about this same age, and in some ways never really had that practice.

Don't get me wrong -- I'm not that bad. But I'm always in fear of the phobia popping up.

A phobia to me isn't just a fear -- it's to fear what clinical depression is to sadness. A ramping up ten times -- take your biggest fear, public speaking, heights, and ramp it up. It's the reptilian brain skittering and jabbering and screeching RUN!! at full bore.

My reaction to a panic attack is to usually try to override it with my reasoning brain, which says, "Oh stuff and nonsense! You're fine!" which doesn't actually stop the fear, but keeps me from running away. What it does, in fact, if freeze me in place.

It isn't the actual panic that scares me, it's state of mind it induces, which keeps me from being the everyday Duncan, the Duncan that I want people to know. I had a few disastrous meetings at the peak of my phobia, sometimes because I'd over self-medicate with booze, other times because I didn't and I found my mental state in what I would call "never-never land."

It was a huge relief when I diagnosed myself as having agoraphobia about 35 years ago. My craziness had a name. And, it could be dealt with.

Being broke and stubborn, I dealt with it my own way -- I decided that avoided panic situations would be the best solution, and arranged my life accordingly. Like a fellow who can read but gets everyone else to read for him so that no one even knows there is a problem, I got very good at living a relatively normal life while avoiding panic situations.

My theory was that the less times my phobia kicked in, the less likely it would be that my phobia would kick in. Which is a great solution if you have your own store, an understanding wife, and 30 years to work on it.

I discovered a few years back that there is actually a pill that works well -- which is the closest thing to a 'magic' pill there is. It works for me, but I found that just having access to the pills was often enough -- that I was O.K without them. So, I always know they are there but I still hardly ever use them...

So now I find myself at the theater or eating out or walking down a busy street, and I don't even feel a twinge, and it's almost hard to remember that once upon a time those situations would terrify me.

But I have a vivid imagination that can visualize me on the same street, without Linda by my side, lost, scared and wanting to curl up in a ball. So, I think the old phobia is still lurking because that fearful scene is still very much alive in my imagination.

I'm able to do most everything I want to do. I'm certainly not going to let that fear stop me from traveling or visiting friends -- and I seem to be pushing my comfort zones further and further out, so....well, it's good to know.