xHomeSweetHomex
agoraphobia
I’m in a checkout line. I’m sweating. The two go hand in hand. But this checkout line in particular is worse. To start, it’s long and I’m at the front. The cashier is overwhelmed and so am I. Being here makes it hard to breathe. It’s time to pay and I miscalculated the cost. I don’t have enough cash, and my card is in the car.
This is my worst nightmare. I try to appear nonchalant as I tell her I’m short and will just get the drinks, but my hands are shaking when I hand her the cash. I will replay this moment in my head for hours tonight and think about it every time I go to the grocery store for what feels like the rest of my life. I start to hyperventilate as I walk through the automatic doors, but I hold it together until I get to my car. As soon as the door closes I gasp for air and tears start pouring. My skin is on fire, and I can’t breathe. My vision is swimming, and my head feels dizzy. I feel like I’m dying.
This whole interaction is overblown in my head, but it’s real to me. So as much as I can manage, I stay home. Home, where it’s safe. Where no one can see my every mistake or misstep. Where I don’t feel like I’m under the constant gaze of everyone around me. Logically I know that I’m not under a microscope, but at the moment all I can feel are their eyes burning into me. Their inscrutable gazes picking apart my every flaw. I’m under a microscope of shame and embarrassment. Every insecurity is on full display.
I have agoraphobia.
Most think agoraphobia is the fear of leaving your home. While that is part of it, it is a fear of places and situations that might cause panic, helplessness, or embarrassment. And most of those feelings can be escaped by simply staying at home.
When you’re stuck at home, even by your own mind, it can get boring. My family can only take so much of my presence and I can only watch so much day time television. So I find hobbies. I try knitting, tie dye, roller skating, reading, painting, gaming, baking, cooking. But none of them capture my attention for long.
Until I try cross stitching.
I bought a small kit online from an etsy seller and I’m immediately hooked. I spend days on the pattern. I’m slow, but that's okay because I’m having fun. I'm relaxed. It’s repetitive but that's what I like. There’s no guessing what is going to happen, I have a pattern. I don't have to learn any fancy stitches, I just make X’s.
X. X. X. X. X.
The floss sliding through the aida cloth fills me with peace. It’s therapeutic in its simplicity. The patterns are endless, the threads come in every color of the rainbow, and then more.
Sometimes I skip a stitch. Sometimes I count one to many. These mistakes are okay because they just mean I get to stitch again.
The panic attack at the grocery store is long gone from my mind as I stitch. I’m in my happy place. All I hear is the puncture of the needle and the thread slipping through the fabric. All I see is a picture coming to life one x at a time. There’s no room for negative thoughts, only X’s.
I still have to leave my home. I still get nervous. I still have panic attacks. Cross stitching doesn’t cure me, but it offers a moment of reprieve. A moment where I’m in complete control.
About the Creator
Bailey Chambers
just having fun.
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