...and it's out in the open,I always feel anxiety when I walk into the pharmacy. I was so nervous in the 70's,I felt like I was going to loose my voice when I asked for my medicine at the counter. For a long time in the Capital city where I lived,they delivered. If they came to the door,and knocked, I didn't answer. Then when I saw them leave,I'd open the door,and reach out with my arm,and pick up the medicine out of the door pouch,and bring it in without going out the apartment door. Isn't that pathetic? lol Yes,I had a real bad case of it years ago. I think it became Pharmacy Phobia.

Now I live in a small town,where everybody knows each other,well not quit everyone. Of course they do not deliver,so I've gone back to picking up my medicine. They cannot talk about your medicine,or you because of privacy laws. I'm uncomfortable to the point of anxiety,and have a slight paranoid feeling because there are so many controls on medications. When I had group insurance with the supermarket where I worked,I noticed the insurance companies must have counted every pill,and would not let you call in your medicine a day early. Now with all of this control over medicine,I'm having anxiety,and slight paranoid feelings,and anger when I walk into a pharmacy. I hate to say it,but the anger helps me with the process of getting my medicine now. What a bunch of baloney we go through all the time now.


In writing out this message,it reminded me that I use to loose my voice with a small panic while talking to people. It would come out of the blue. You should see there faces when they don't know whats happening to you. This happened allot in the 1980's. I'd never know when it was going to happen. I'd be talking,and then I'd freeze in the middle of what I was saying,and my mind would go blank. It was not a seizure,it was a panic reaction while talking to people. After all of these years,I know what a slight panic episode is,and when someone say's it's all in my head,or snap out of it,I know it's not that simple. I grind my teeth in my sleep. I can tell them that. Forget public speaking. Do you know how hard it was for me to explain to a teacher that I couldn't get in front of the class,and give a oral report.This was back in the late sixties,and early seventies. No one heard the word Phobia Clinic until about 1980,or 81,or82. If the teacher put me up there anyway,she'd find out very quickly what I was trying to tell her. What Embarrassment! I still tried to be cool like most teenagers. I try to hide this as best as I can,and I act like Im as normal as everyone else. I remember in the 6th grade,a teacher made me read out loud. With each stumbling of my word's while reading out loud,the class laughed louder,and louder. I walked out of the class,and went to the clinic. I remember that the Principle didn't know what it was(This was in about 1965),but he treated it seriously. He knew something that the teachers didn't know. He warned those teachers to not push me in class I think. He had a talk with one of my teachers,and she came back in the classroom with tears in her eyes. I'm sorry that the teacher got fussed at. I don't know what Elementary School Principles knew about these things in the mid-1960's. I know that they knew something. This Principle did anyway,and he tried to protect me. May God rest his soul. He was a older man back then,and this was over 40 years ago. I would never want to go through this again. I would never want to live my life again. It's a blessing that the human race doesn't live beyond 90,to 100 years for some people. I hope that I'm not depressing anyone. Am I triggering sensitive emotional memories in some people? I hope not.

Mari. I hope it's not me who is making you sad. You said that you have been sad resently. I hope it's not me doing it. You said your haven't taken a medicine recently. I hope that it's neither I,or that medication. I hope that It's just a passing thing, that will be over this afternoon.


I had forgotten about these things,but in writing about this subject,I can remember these experiences plain as day. There are to many of these experiences. They where beyond embarrassing. They where mortifying. It seems like everything is combined with a group of memories. These memories are very vivid,and I remember many of them well. My family tells me that they can hardly believe the things that I remember. I think that they thought that It was my intelligence,and not my anxiety's. It was my anxiety sidetracking my intelligence. Oh Gosh.