Flashback

Last night's casino trip was terrible.

I pulled into the parking lot, and guess who's car was sitting right there in the spot diagonally across from mine?

The pharmacist's.

Goddammit, I thought to myself. Then I had a small anxiety attack. What if I see him? (I already know I will.) What if he looks at me? What if he tries to talk to me? What if I get the urge to talk to him? What if...

Ok, just calm down. Breathe. Bathroom first, then blackjack table.

As I approach the tables, I look to see where the pharmacist is -- sitting on first base at the single deck table, exactly where I expected him to be. I look to see where the $5 and $10 tables are. Both tables are directly across the pit from the pharmacist, which means no matter where I sit, we'll be able to see each other. Damn it all.

$5 table is full, so I pick a seat at first base at the $10 table. My back is just barely to the pharmacist, but I can still see him out of the corner of my eye. Don't know if he's seen me, hopefully not.

As I sat there watching the cards being dealt, I tried very, very hard to focus on what I was doing and pretend that it's just like any other night at the casino. But I failed so miserably. The anxiety totally controlled me. I got cold, I broke into a sweat, my body trembled, my heart raced, my head flooded with thoughts.

I had to leave the table.

I went and sat in the lobby for a while. Saw a guy I know from the university where I used to work. Stared at the big coyote banners and the photographs of the tribal council members. I sipped some water. With a poker chip burning a hole in my pocket, eventually I worked up enough courage to go back to the tables and try again.

Ok, just calm down. Breathe. Bathroom first, then blackjack table.

As I approached the tables a second time, I noticed another $5 table I hadn't see before, on a different pit than the others. That's perfect, I thought. We won't be able to see each other at all. So I took a seat, but it was quickly apparent that this was a not a good table for me. The cards were awful. The people around me were making bad hits. Everyone was losing. At the shuffle, three younger looking guys sat down and began chatting amongst themselves.

"Just sit and watch for a few hands."

"Why? It's just blackjack. How hard can it be?"

"Do you hit on a 15 or 16?"

Shit, I thought. They have no idea what they're doing. That means more bad hits, and more losing hands for everybody at this table.

So I colored up and left. Went back to the first $5 table, where there was now a seat open... but it was directly across the pit from the single deck table, where the pharmacist was still camped out.

I sat down quickly, and found that if I shifted my body into just the right position, the dealer's head completely blocked my view of the pharmacist. For about 10 minutes, things were good. I focused in, I didn't lose money, I even started to have fun. But then our dealer's shift was over. He stood up to trade places with the new dealer, and I caught a full view of the pharmacist. I looked away immediately. Anxiety set in again. Then I could see him looking at me. Heart racing, body shaking. Is he still looking? I can't look up.

The new dealer sat down. She was short. I could see the pharmacist over her head. And he kept looking. Maybe he was trying to make eye contact, but I wasn't going to let it happen.

Look down. Look at the cards.

Not only was the new dealer short, but she was a noob. She was having trouble counting to 21. That's a problem at a blackjack table. Between catching side glimpses of the pharmacist looking in my direction, and having to count the dealer's cards for her (um... that's 14, not 15), the anxiety mounted into a full panic attack. I lost my money very quickly.

Barely able to walk straight without shaking uncontrollably, I made my way back to the lobby, where I crashed into a worn chair, slumped down, and spent almost an hour trying to talk myself out of a panic.

So cold right now. I wish I could stop shaking. Just calm down. Stop thinking about it. Oh shit, someone's coming near me - is it him? What if he walked up right now? Shit. Stop thinking about it. Focus on the coyote banners. You're going to be fine. I can't drive like this. I can't even see straight right now. What am I going to do? What the fuck is wrong with me? Why is this happening?

Then it hit me.

I was having a flashback.

Suddenly memories and emotions drenched my entire body as I recalled what happened to me more than 10 years ago. I spent so much time dealing with this issue, trying to overcome it, trying to trust people in spite of it. I thought I had been successful, but obviously it still haunts me in some way, because here I am, sitting in the lobby of the casino, completely unable to move except for the shaking of my body.

When I was in college, I was in an abusive relationship. Just verbally and emotionally abusive at first. When it turned physically abusive, I called the police immediately. He was arrested. The school intervened. We weren't allowed to be near each other, which was pretty tough because we had the same major, had similar schedules, were in several of the same classes. It got worse when the county decided to press charges against him. I would see him from across the courtyard, and he would scream at me, call me names, threaten me, in front of anyone and everyone who happened to be passing by. I was terrified of crossing paths with him at night. I was terrified of going anywhere alone. Eventually I got so scared that I just stopped going to class. I stopped eating. I stopped everything. I just stayed in bed all day, for weeks and weeks.

This is what started all the physical problems I have now. My bad digestion, my back problems. My little anxiety attacks. I can trace it all back to this series of events in college. His abuse completely broke me down, in every way possible.

So why is this coming up now, that I'm sitting here at the casino?

My ex in college used to find the chink in my armor and pick at it until it was a bloody wound. Just like the pharmacist did in that nasty email exchange.

My ex used to tell me that I was mentally ill, that I need to have my head examined, that I had no common sense. Just like the pharmacist did.

My ex would go through extreme changes in behavior and mood. He would adore me one minute, then ignore me the next, and react meanly when I asked him why. Just like the pharmacist.

Shit, how did I not see these similarities before?

But the pharmacist is not an abuser. He would never hurt someone physically, and I don't even think he's even aware of how he hurt me emotionally. He's really just kind of oblivious to other people's emotions, which doesn't make him mean or aggressive like my ex was, it just makes him an idiot.

Nonetheless, I had a similar emotional response to his treatment. He said something in his email that triggered a panic in me. When I have that kind of response, I can't control it. I become irrationally afraid. I need to back out. But when I tried, he kept picking. My ex used to do the same thing, until I was so backed into a corner that I just couldn't function anymore. The pharmacist doesn't know it, but he shut me down.

And afterwards, the idea of seeing him somewhere makes me feel all the same fear and anxiety I used to get when I'd see my ex. I never knew what he was going to do. Would he just pass by me without looking at me or saying anything? Or would he scream at me? Call me names? Grab me? Or worse... would he approach me and try to talk? Try to talk me out of being angry at him? Try to tell me I don't know what really happened, that I'm just confused, that I'm mentally ill?

This is what happened to me at the casino last night. Old fears that haven't been a problem for me in a long time decided to come out and play. The thought of seeing the pharmacist brought up a shit storm of panic and confusion.

As soon as I realized what was happening to me, I realized that I had to deal with it right then and there. I couldn't let it control me, the way I'd let my ex control me, all those years ago. Because in reality, the pharmacist is not my ex. He's not anything like my ex. Yeah, he said some similar things because he's an asshole. But he's not controlling, he's not aggressive, and he doesn't give a shit where I am right now. He's not trying to keep me away from certain places like my ex used to do. He's not getting angry because he can see me. He's just sitting there, minding his own business. He's made no attempt to talk to me. The only thing that's still weird is that our cars are parked right next to each other, and I really don't want to see him in the parking lot. But what are the chances of that happening? And even if it does, so what? He doesn't control me, I control myself. I don't have to talk to him, or even look at him.

By now, I had a handle on things. I still had some anxiety, but the worst of the panic was over. I just needed to decide what to do.

I had $20 left, but decided it wasn't worth it to limp into another game. It was almost 1:00am. I was tired.

Ok, just calm down. Breathe. Bathroom first, then parking lot. And hope to hell that the pharmacist doesn't decide to leave at the same time.

It was cold and foggy outside. I walked as quickly as I could to my car. His was still sitting there, all fogged up. I got in my car, cranked up the defroster, turned up the music, put my jacket and gloves on, then took a few minutes to right myself while the car was warming up.

Then I left.

No more panic, just drive home, and try to stay awake.

I made it.