agoraphobia

Like many people around the world yesterday, I spent much of my time glued to the streaming BBC webcast on the computer. Although Big Jim and I had often discussed London as an obvious target for terrorism, the reality proved to be no less shocking or horrifying. The village remained subdued all day. The many English expats were fixated on news reports and attempting to reach loved ones back in the UK; the Spanish were sadly reminded of their own terrible bombings, particularly last year's in Madrid. And I often found myself being transported to Philadelphia, 9/11/2001. The shock, the fear, the silent streets. And then somehow, we managed to get out of bed the morning of 9/12 and carry on, just as many, many Londoners are today. ***************************************** Three times in my life I have had to face agoraphobia. The first time was after a car accident when I was 18. The second was after I was carjacked in Philadelphia 14 years ago. The third is now, anxiety being a common result of vision loss. I have learned that agoraphobia seems to be my way of dealing with any sort of trauma. This time, I first recognized symptoms as M.A. and I were planning to go to Priego de Cordoba. Currently, day to day, there are no overt signs because the fears do not surface as long as I am in the village. It is only the thought of putting any distance between me and the pets that makes my heart beat faster, my skin tingle. However, the rational part of me knows that the only way to get passed this is to go, desensitize myself, to prove that nothing "bad" is going to happen. Today I think of all the people in London, and in too many other parts of the world, who must just want to shut their doors to the world, be safe within their homes. And so I, in recognition of their fears, must put mine aside, and after listening to my relaxation tape am off to the coast for the morning. hasta luego, mylifeinspain