Back in January, right when classes were picking up, I started to have health issues. I came home one day stressed out about money, my car, my teeth, and my future. I planned to nap all the frustration away but found that I couldn’t fall asleep. My heart was racing, my vision was fuzzy, and my hands were tingling. When these symptoms persisted for more than an hour, I pretty much flipped my shit. I didn’t know what was wrong with me. Finally, my roommate drove me to the ER where the doctor ordered a series of tests. When nothing suspicious turned up, I was diagnosed with an anxiety attack and sent home. I wish I could say this was a one-time incident but sadly, it was the beginning of a hellish semester, even worse than the one in high school where I spent every day crying in my bed mourning the loss of my ex-boyfriend.
Following this episode, my body did not act the way I wanted it to. I had tightness in my chest off and on throughout the day and felt like I was either going to vom or pass out in all my classes. Some days were better than others but I had never felt this way before and didn’t know how to act. Of course, me being Peter, I diagnosed myself with an array of diseases and conditions: asthma, allergies, cancer, heart defect…It seems silly now but I had myself totally convinced that May was never going to get here and I wouldn’t graduate (because I’d be dead or dying). There were times when I almost wrote to the Make a Wish people to make my dream of meeting Oprah come true.
I can’t count the number of times I have seen the doctor and the number of procedures I’ve endured since January. Cardiologists, eye doctors, regular doctors… x-rays, EKGs, heart sonograms, running on a treadmill…But time after time, no problems were detected. After my second serious “attack” where I drove myself to the emergency room convinced I was dying (don’t ask me how many traffic laws I violated), I began treatment for anxiety. I was hesitant to admit, to myself and others, that stress could be causing all this physical pain and emotional terror. However, one of the perks of anxiety is that I received a complimentary prescription for Valium.
Shortly after I started treatment, I experienced my second serious car crash ever. My first one was last October. Once again, I ended up in the grassy median of an Oklahoma highway. Although physically I was fine, my anxious feelings were anything but alleviated. In the end, I somehow managed to finally make it through this disgusting semester and graduate with Carol Ann there to watch me.
Now what? After submitting approximately a bajillion job applications without receiving a single glimmer of hope, I was without a job and losing hope. I decided to dedicate my summer to relaxing, working on my anxiety, and paying off my thousands of dollars of medical bills. Initially, I thought this would suck. But, it has turned out to be quite a godsend. I still have some anxious feelings but nowhere near as bad as during the semester. I owe a lot of credit to yoga and Zoloft…and a boy.
Just as I was getting settled into my easy going summer routine of work and chill, I got an email from the UN Development Programme in Armenia saying they wanted to interview me for an internship position. WTF???!!! Some piece of shit NGO in DC doesn’t want to talk to me but the UN does?! I thought they must have emailed the wrong person. But I played along and had a Skype interview with some very pleasant Armenians. I thought things went well. They didn’t seem to mind that I was sitting in my garage and not wearing pants during the interview. A week later, they told me that they had accepted me for the position. So, it looks like once again my scandalous international blog will be revived. Prepare to be up to date on Yerevan fashion tips and gossip.
So here’s a summary of this mega long blog post: This semester was one of the biggest struggles I have ever gone through but I still managed to look good. Now, I’m on my way to Kardashian-land to add more stamps to my passport and make yet another country fall in love with me.
Peace and love, Peter Kardashian Jones
|My sisters and me|