It's not that I'm unsupportive -- it's that I'm afraid...

I find it fascinating, that as I age, there are certain arenas of my life and personality, which continue to evolve and strengthen.  And then there are some things inside of me which deteriorate and dwindle, despite my best efforts to hold strong and say "no".

Being in Los Angeles, there is never a shortage of things to do.  It's never been a secret that I love to socialize, but after a humdinger of interaction with other human beings -- say a week long of various events and/or get-togethers -- that I'll need a good week to recover, hiding in my 10th story apartment, away from the chaos of the streets below and away from having to put up my "walls" when dealing with socializing.  Putting on that happy face, etc.  Of course, there are many social events where I'm able to let down my guard, but being in show business, it's certainly a matter of constant networking and of always being "on".

Honestly, I believe this was one of the reasons I burned out on film reviewing after 4 years.  Not only was I just plain tired (and tired of seeing sub-par films which I could not walk out on), but of attending events (screenings, festivals, etc.).  However, not being actually obligated by that gig, to go out and cover a film -- has brought me into my current state.

I wouldn't quite diagnose it as agoraphobia (I always think of Sigourney Weaver's character in the 1995 thriller, Copycat), but how far away am I from such a firm conclusion?

Per the Mayo Clinic, agoraphobia is, "a type of anxiety disorder in which you fear and avoid places or situations that might cause you to panic and make you feel trapped, helpless or embarrassed."

The problem in dealing with the flirtations of such a condition -- whether or not that's what it actually is -- is that I have so many friends who have film festival screenings, stage-plays, social events and life events -- every single week.  And the constant memes from friends of "I'm an introvert" are apt and enlightening, but I feel like my issues/neuroses are starting to go beyond that.

Of course, I want to support the projects of my friends and acquaintances, as they've done for me, but as each day passes (and as I pass right on by middle-aged), I find it more and more difficult to remove myself from the safety of that 10th story safe-house.  I'm proud of these people and want them to know that I love and back them and their projects, but how can I actually prove that if I don't ever make it to their special events?

The thing is, generally -- once I get to an event, anxiety is all but flushed away.  There's something about Los Angeles traffic and/or public transportation which will immediately fire up the "let's get crazy" receptors of my brain.  It's the getting there, not the being there (in general).  Not only is there an increased heart rate, honest-to-goodness sweats and increased body temperature, I also have an innate fear of crapping my pants.  Not a joke, completely serious.

The idea of "no escape" and all which that entails -- including no access to a bathroom should one be needed (I've never actually had an accident involving #2 -- knock on wood) -- is what will filter into my mind when stuck in traffic or when underground on the Red Line, jetting toward downtown.

Can I get out if I need to?

Yes, there are times where my bowels legit need to be relieved, but I've learned over the years, that any "rumblings" or "pinecones" (the term the other half and I have used for decades to describe an impending need to visit the restroom), are 95% of the time -- in my head.  And knowing that, doesn't always keep the panic attack from setting in.  Mentally, I know I'm panicking for ridiculous reasons and that all will probably be fine.

And I know this for a fact, because when the other half and I travel (we do road trips to Vegas and beyond all of the time) is that once we head east and reach the 15 (into a more "rural" area), that my body, my mind and my tummy will inevitably relax.  There's a psychological reason for this.  If indeed I needed to have an emergency stop -- a more "rural" side of the road would be less of an inconvenience or an embarrassment.

You're reading this, thinking, "That's fucking absurd."  And I agree with you.  Absolutely.  But it doesn't change things.

When events are forthcoming on my calendar, I begin to tense up and worry -- at least 2 days beforehand.  The day of an event, I'm on edge and crabby (whether it's the event of a friend, or an event involving me).  When someone flakes out on something and I am spared having to leave the house -- a literal wave of relief which will rush over me.  It's like an inner celebration for my anxieties.  In addition, an evening event will require me to mentally prepare -- all day long -- at the expense of writing projects and obligations.  And two events in one day -- forget about it.

These anxieties are absolutely real.  And so is my support for you and your life events and your artistic achievements.  But there are plenty of times where I let the anxiety win (too many) -- and will therefore flake on your event.  It makes me feel terrible.  It might make you feel terrible.  And for that, I apologize.

It's an ongoing journey and an ongoing struggle.  And for that, I ask your patience and understanding and forgiveness when I back out on an event or when I say "no".

I've had several legit panic attacks in the past several years, and I've learned to control them to a point.  But there's always the lingering spectre of an anxiety flare-up.

But of course -- how many times have I made my way on the train or onto the freeway to get out of the house and support folks and their celebrations?  Probably too many to count.  Which means, in my inconsistent life, my inconsistent emotions -- even my neuroses can't stay consistent.

I'm a mess.  Thank you for your time.