The last breath in the tube of death, (kind of)

 So, I am 22 right now and I feel lost as hell, I live with my folks and I'm just trying to want to do more in my life. I often sit back working on various projects and essays trying to build my portfolio as a freelance writer. And all while I do that, squeeze in enough time to exercise so I don't feel like I'm going to explode. In my most recent job I am a baker at crumble cookie. I often just pull up at 5:00pm leave at around 10, and do it over again. Now by all means I was never good with money, not at all. So I take full responsibility for my jacked up bank account. However, it took something that happened the December of 2022 that shook up a lot for me financially, but mostly mentally.

Now, I have always dealt with anxiety. I remember going to get a check up was the worst of it. I would always go to the doctors office crying scared that I'm going to fucking die. They would always looked shocked at my blood pressure number and tell me that the current path I was going on was dangerous. Which didn't help because I would eat food to combat my anxiety. So to scare me to death only made me want to eat more. But some doctors just don't understand that. Most of the time after the visits, I would go from eating my "last bad meal" to becoming  Gwyneth Paltrow overnight. Long story short, it didn't work out. Fast forward to 2022, I got accepted at SAIC, The School of Art Institute of Chicago, and I'm excited. Everything was fine, I didn't get too far out of my comfort zone. Meaning I didn't take the subway to just anywhere. I lived and moved and tried to do something with my time being there. Because financially, I wasn't going to be able to stay there anyway. I always thought I was the most privilege but there was students their who's hats cost more than my whole savings at the time. There was one milestone, I got drunk for the first time at 22, lol. I always grew up in the Bible Belt and was somewhat sheltered so I never really did anything (out there). I was struggling with some things though and decided with one of my younger roommates to get an edible some days before the week of Christmas. He couldn't go being 19, and so it was up to me being the oldest out my roommates to get the goods. I go in show my ID and that was that, it was a good 100mg every (piece) of chocolate. This is very important detail because I only hit the pipe a couple times being in the dorm. So long story short, I didn't think anything of it. You know I thought (I'm built for this).

So after FOUR to SIX pieces of chocolate I feel good. We go get wing stop, things are really looking up. We get back to the dorm and it's starting to hit. I was happy because I heard many people try edibles and assumed that for someone with anxiety it would help. So, I'm eating getting happy chomping on these wings, then out of nowhere my heart starts pumping fast and I feel like I'm going to die. Like out of nowhere I go from paradise to hell. So I go to my room and try to calm down. It starts pumping so fast I just knew that was it, I'm dead!!!. Luckily everyone in the room was acquainted with edibles and the latter, so I was technically in good hands. Several days past and I feel like absolute shit, everything is going slow and fast at the same time. The worst of it is when my throat felt like it was going to close. I remember  it getting so bad I called the ambulance, and mind you, I walked out of the dorm room, to hear the rest of my roommates kind of just laughing because of how uncomfortable the situation is. I go downstairs and look for the ambulance and go to the back of the van. To sum up the health report they said don't do drugs and  you'll be fine it will pass. I couldn't sleep and I was honestly mad at myself being the oldest I was constantly surrounded by people younger than me by a year or more not give a damn and just exist. I thought to myself "Am I really having a 19 year old guide me on how to recover from an edible, I-" So its like the wee hours of the morning. It is the Windy City after all and outside my dorm building waiting for an Uber, I am bracing myself from the nausea that is about ensue because of it. Wait Alex why do you need an uber? Well my friend, despite my friends best efforts to stop me, I take my ass all the way to the emergency room. They basically say, "we could pump your stomach but there is nothing we can do for you really,  it will pass sorry". So that visit was around I don't know at least $700+, but luckily I had insurance. And before that I took an Uber to an urgent care only for them to be closed. You know because it was Sunday. Some random guy saw me and said "Hey, are you okay?" I'm like I'm freaking the fuck out. I gave him the run down or at least the main parts that mattered. He just said calm down my friend, and enjoy it. And I wish I could, if it didn't feel like I was breathing out of a damn straw, but I digress.

So, it eventually gets towards the following week of Christmas and a snow storm is coming to Chicago. At first I told my family I wasn't going home, but then I rushed my ass all the way to the airport trying to get back to safety. I still felt like I was going to die though I like to think I can navigate airports better. I get to the airport and I am FUCKING stressed I tell you. I finally made it through the conveyor belt of hell. TSA sure can be a bitch, however when it comes to the possibility of weapons of mass destruction, better safe than sorry I suppose. So I get to the lounge area were you sit just before boarding. I sit down and I am still fixated on my throat closing up. I try going to the bathroom to throw shit up, and nothing. When nothing seems to work, I then go recklessly spend money on food, a well practiced vice that seemed to work all the other times. But when your throat is bumpy as hell, you can't eat the food in peace. Also controversial take but, Chicago hot dogs are not good. It's too salty and wet. But anyways, I couldn't taste the damn glizzy anyway because I'm rocking back and fourth in my damn seat tryna calm down. All while the guy next to me is on their phone, and the peripheral annoyance is powerful I tell you. And of course before we get the announcement that it's time, I text my parents like "I love you, pray for me!" like girl, calm down.

So now it's time, I board the plane, and I am just tryna get through it the best I can. I get on, and everything seems to be fine.  But I keep thinking my throat is gonna close. It doesn't help that the when an airplane goes up the pressure builds leading to the lump in my throat to feel like it's taking up all the space in my esophagus. So, I'm getting light head. I said tough it out and pray. Tell me why I'm in the bathroom trying to speak in tongues, I'm literally on my last leg, then I try to pull it together and go sit my ass down back in my seat. I still feel like shit so, like clockwork, I'm back in the bathroom again.  I have my internalized dialogue and I pray. I come out  the stall again and I still didn't have my shit together. Next thing you know I'm telling one of the flight attendants I can't breath and they had me on an oxygen tank. Ya'll can say whatever you want about Spirit Airlines but they ate that. They were quick with it for sure, cuz I had that tank straight up to me asap, throat still rocky though. By the grace of God there was a nurse on board. I was gonna shout her out but weirdly enough she didn't have an instagram or any other social media really. But anyways, I held her hand, and I start shaking like I'm having a stroke. My hands were contorted inward, and my speech was fractured. I was barely catching my breath on some sentences. I just kept talking trying to gain control, but it was like reaching for air at that point. This was the first time I ever experienced a panic attack and my God! I really wouldn't wish that shit on my worst enemy. It is pure nightmare fuel of biblical proportions. But, thankfully they level the plane down a bit so I could breath better. I had some vitals taken and before you know it we made it to the destination. 

While awkwardly getting my things and leaving the plane I said, everyone have a good holiday, my bad for the accident as I got off. Nobody said anything, lol. I was like damn I'm just tryna lighten the mood. But now looking back they probably were thinking I was doing to much or they were just ready to go home, which is understandable. The 911 operatives in the lobby take my vitals and say well you are all good, but we can take you to the ambulance if you think you need it. So one of the main reasons I am in debt now is because of these medical bills but I had to. I just knew I wouldn't be capable of being mentally sound enough to go on a plane again without knowing why my throat feels the way it does. I go into the ambulance, and upon my arrival, and a quick test, apparently I had a throat infection. I was told drink water and chew gum to help when I get on the plane again. I took an Uber and made it just in time to reach my plane. I was looking at at least about $2,000 I had to pay off.  On top of that, I got rid of my insurance back home to get covered for some in Chicago. Then the lump in my throat that was just an infection turned out to be acid reflux. So that is about close to $800 on several visits because I had to pay out of pocket. and it wasn't't because I was just being a pussy. I legit couldn't even swallow a sip of water without choking. And when I went to the nurse her eyes widen in horror as she called the doctor in who basically said, "Yeah, that's big, its silent acid reflux". I had several odd jobs to help pay my stuff off, but I still had another bill because one night I felt so bad that I went to the hospital down the street to get a check up. They basically said, I can't be without medicine. If I did, it would lead to very serious issues. The story of my fucking life. 

After all of this, I'm going to be real, I felt like a bitch. Which is funny, because many people would have told me I was less of a man for  being fruity and such. But no, I was perfectly fine with that reality. But running back to my parents after a panic attack on a plane from taking too much THC, well, it wasn't on my bucket list I'll tell you that much. And no one tells you after  she like this how it fucks with your brain. I have had death on my mind numerous times. Just last night walking the quiet suburbs my ass thought someone was riding next to me. No one was there, and when I cam back through that route, I realized what my mind had translated as a person on a bike riding a little to close to me, was somebody's damn sprinklers, lol. I worked several jobs and have chosen to tough it out because I genuinely don't have the privilege right now to be picky. It use to be you leave a job and then you get another one. But people are not hiring worth a damn. I couldn't even get a job at my local grocery store because the damn manager WON"T let me get the job. The one dude at  my towns raisin canes just flat out texted me and was like, yeah we don't need anymore people. One job I had to fight to get on the schedule. And there was another job were I was a dishwasher. One of my managers kept asking me  if I wanted to leave early and I did every time, why? Because I'm an artist/writer/creative. I legit need time to have more materials besides college essays if I want a remote job in freelance. Especially since the panic attack though I like to talk to people, I still don't like people that damn much, you know what I mean. I know some are going to say "at least you have supportive parents" yes that is a blessing. But no, in this economy, in this fucked up country we live in, they can't save me. I have to do the work myself, because news flash! I am not fucking rich. Trust me, if I was ,I wouldn't even type out this ramble and would have been like half of the student body at SAIC. Walking down the halls upset because my "thrift" wasn't esthetic enough. Man, the life of an artist am I right? Actually I don't know what I meant on that last statement ignore that. 

Anyway, there was so much more to this story that I left out. But, the gist is, don't take edibles when you don't know what your doing. And take your mental and physical health seriously. I am on high blood pressure and anxiety medicine just to stay afloat. Though hiccups of anxiety here or there, I'm just tryna make It work. But yeah man, anxiety is crazy. See ya'll next time fro another story.