Cupcakes and Wine Fix Everything and Anne Wheaton is Awesome

So, no Memory Lane Monday this week. Sorry guys. I'm working on a doozy of a story and it's just not ready.  I promise it'll be up next week. Just in time for Christmas! You're welcome. Today I will veer towards some inner demons that plague me. You know, just to change things up.

For the first time since college, I went out on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday nights this past weekend. I'm exhausted. Friday night an old friend of Boyfriend had a birthday party. She's a pretty successful director in TV and every year she throws a huge birthday party with an auction to benefit cancer research. She's a lovely person and I like her a lot, but I spent all day working outside in 40 degree rainy ickiness and I really didn't feel like going. Boyfriend complained that I never go out with him, and I felt like a shitty girlfriend so I caved and went with him. The second we stepped into the party space, I immediately regretted this decision. The event space was in a fancy sort of Hipstery restaurant near the Chelsea Market ie: expensive. It was wall-to-wall people. Television people. Socialite people. Not my people. I could not have felt more out of place had I been completely naked. Actually, being naked probably would have been better, then it would have been a conversation starter.

Source

The first 20 minutes or so that we were there, I was trying super hard not to completely break down. I could feel he anxiety attacks sitting at the ready, waiting to pounce on me and my psyche. It was so hot and filled with so many people on top of the normal daily stress I've been going through worrying about money and the like, I am amazed that I didn't pass out. Luckily, there was a lounge couch thing in the corner to sit down on and I started feeling a little better until Boyfriend pointed over my shoulder and said, "That guy. He's famous, right?" I turned and saw Richard Kind standing not 5 feet from me and I kind of started flipping out. He may not be super duper famous, but he has a damn successful career in comedy and voice-over and I am a fan. I started having even more trouble breathing and my heart felt like it was skipping all over my chest: a sure sign that an anxiety attack was to follow shortly. My little career started flashing before my own eyes. It didn't take long. Then for some reason my career goals all crashed and burned in my head. I don't know why. My brain is a crazy place.

I desperately rummaged in my bag for my anti-anxiety meds to no avail. I had forgotten them. That's really when the panic set in. Normally I would have just had a beer and probably been ok, but I was not about to ask Boyfriend to pay $8 so I could drink a shitty Bud Light. I closed my eyes and tried to focus on breathing. Finally, one of our friends showed up with his work buddy in tow. Our friend was very inebriated and started running his mouth about silly things as he usually does when he's been drinking and that at least got me to focus on other things. Also, in his drunky state, he bought me 2 glasses of prosecco. Delicious. I found out his work buddy used to be an actor, so we chatted for a while and he was very very nice, so I felt much better and not quite so overwhelmed. I was also venting on Twitter throughout the evening, so that helped.

The birthday girl eventually cut her giant cake and Richard Kind acted as auctioneer for all of the really awesome stuff that was donated, and Boyfriend got me some Magnolia Bakery cupcakes from the dessert table. I sat watching the party from my seat on the couch in the corner. It was less overwhelming. With a full belly and some bubbly in me, I started to relax and have a little fun. Then Anne Wheaton tweeted at me and all was right with the world. Here is my account of the evening via Twitter and Chirpstory:


I really can't explain this social anxiety I seem to have. To people who don't have anxiety disorders, it makes zero sense. I know this, because I can't even explain it and it's happening inside my own brain. I feel light-headed just rehashing all of this even though I'm sitting in the security of my apartment next to my Christmas tree, all cozy and toasty with a cup of coffee. 
Ok, I need to go play video games now. Yes, that's correct, I NEED to. Next time I think I'll discuss another issue of mine: my addiction to a certain video game. It's bad you guys. It's bad. Don't judge me.