Panic Button, Pushed.

A few weeks ago, I was summoned to attend jury duty. I’ve had to do it a couple of times in the past, always spending the day sitting there while the attorneys interviewed prospective jurors in the jury box, while I waited on the benches with everyone else. I’ve always thought it would be kind of fun (or at least interesting) to be a juror, but I was never chosen. Never even got called up to be interviewed.

On my first day in court, I sat in a waiting area with dozens and dozens of potential jurors. Groups of at least 40 people at a time were called away while I continued to wait. After a couple of hours where two different groups of people left, then returned, I was called in. We were taken into a courtroom where there were four attorneys, two at each table, their clients next to them, and the judge. The judge proceeded to tell us who everyone was, and what the case was about.

As soon as the judge said the plaintiff was The County of Los Angeles, I knew this would not be a quick case. As much as I thought being on a case would be interesting, Wil and I have so many different things going on that anything more than say, a week, would seriously mess up stuff for us. Don’t get me wrong. I am aware that this is my civic duty. I’m getting to the part where it felt like anything but that.

The defendant was a contractor, and his company had done work on a couple of historic buildings in the local area. We didn’t get too much detail on the case other than the County wasn’t happy with it and refused to pay the contractor the additional billing he requested. Basically, they were suing each other. I can only imagine a contracting company has got to have a great reputation if he gets to work on stuff like this for the city, so for this guy to sue in return means he is gambling on winning the case.  If he doesn’t win, that’ll be the end of his company.

The judge went on to explain that this case will take approximately 50 days, possibly longer. FIFTY DAYS. Ten weeks of our lives are about to come to a screeching halt. My heart began to race. I started thinking of all the deadlines and commitments and travel already booked that I would have to not only bail out on, but responsibilities that Wil and I share would all be dumped on him, just as he was about to launch a crowd-funding campaign for TableTop while simultaneously preparing for his show on SyFy. I was so anxious for both of us and how we would manage. Total panic.

The judge asked the 40 of us to raise our hand if we could not commit to that time frame. All but two of us raised our hands. One by one, we had to stand up and say why we couldn’t do it. People said everything from the financial hardship it would cause, to their business needing them to run it , to caring for elderly parents or small children. The judge excused us for lunch, but had all of us come back after.

When we returned, I was one of twelve that were called up to the jury box to be interviewed. I explained my commitments and my inability to stay for fifty days. A week? No problem. Ten to twelve weeks? I couldn’t do it. I also explained that I’m currently being treated for anxiety and that a trial this long would not be good for me. (To be clear, it’s anxiety during super stressful situations, not a daily issue for me like it is for some, but a thing that I finally talked to my doctor about a few months back, and I take Ativan if it’s needed.) Everyone had their turn to speak, some even being excused and replaced by a new potential juror. They would come back to me, asking my experience with working with contractors, family members possibly in this business or other jobs connected to the business. It didn’t matter that I have a family member who’s an architect or another who’s a D.A. They kept making their rounds of questions, always keeping me in the box.

The defendant on this case sat next to his attorney at the table, which was directly across from me in the front of the jury box. He seemed to be staring everyone down, with a small smirk on his face. Occasionally, he would even doze off. Here we are, a room full of people who are about to be forced to put our lives on hold, yet he’s dozing. He would sit up a bit, wake himself, and settle back in to looking at us with a smirk that made me SO uncomfortable because he kept his eyes mostly on me.

You ever get a feeling from someone just by watching their body language that they are the kind of person who would lie, steal and take short cuts to even their own family members just to get ahead? That was this guy. I’ve seen guys like him. My father was one. So was my ex-husband. It was the smirk on the guys’ face that made it all connect for me. This guy was about to take control of our lives with this case, even if he was wrong in the matter, because he didn’t want to pay the county for his mistakes. I’m a really good judge of character in people, so I felt like my instincts were right about this guy. The attorneys seemed satisfied with my answers to their questions, and it was obvious I was going to stay.

And that’s when the panic set in. I could feel myself choking back tears as I looked up at the clock on the wall, then over at the judge. My eyes briefly meeting the defendants eyes, who were now completely fixated on me,  the smirk on his face broadening. I looked away,  the feeling of someone standing on my chest while my heartbeat pounded in the sides of my neck took over. I looked around at the wood paneling on the walls, looking identical to the other courthouse Wil and I been in at least a dozen times over a five year time period, when my ex-husband kept taking us to court attempting to get custody of our kids.

I tried to compose myself, my nose feeling like it was about to gush everywhere. I brushed the back of my hand across my nose which was a HUGE mistake. The glob of cry-snot was overwhelming, and so was the courtroom. I stood up, now in full hyperventilating-ugly cry mode and started walking out of the courtroom, the judge calling out “Mrs. Wheaton, we are in session. You may not leave.” Too late. I was out the door, running down the hallway and into the bathroom, hyperventilating and crying out of control.

What the hell just happened? What the hell is wrong with me?

The woman handling all the jurors had followed me into the bathroom, full size box of kleenex in hand. She asked me if I was alright. Between gasps, I told her I didn’t realize it until now, but I feel like I have PTSD from years of being forced into family court. She kindly walked me out of the bathroom, back down the hallway, and sat me on a bench away from all of the jurors they had to clear the courtroom of because I left. Woops.

The woman then went in to talk to the judge and attorneys, and came back out to get me to come back in to see them. The judge was an older man, very sympathetic, and very confused looking. He asked if I was alright. The crying flooded my face again as I told him I knew it was my civic duty to be a juror and I’m sure being on a case that lasted a few days would be interesting. But being forced into doing this for so long is an unreasonable request to put on anyone, and it brings up what feels like a PTSD thing for me from years of being forced into a family law court because of my ex-husband. He asked if I had someone I could talk to about this, which I totally didn’t expect him to say. I told him I have a therapist and will be scheduling an appointment as soon as possible. He excused me from jury duty (at least until I get my next summons in a year) and I left.

I was still upset when I left the building, so I stood on the sidewalk outside the courthouse talking to Wil on the phone about what had happened. I hung up, called the therapist and scheduled an appointment, then called my best friend on the drive home (after I had calmed down.) I had jokingly said on Twitter that I was annoyed that I had jury duty, but I realized I was annoyed because I was upset that Wil and I had been working so hard on things that I was going to have to walk away from. I still couldn’t figure out why all that triggered an anxiety attack, but that’s why I was going to the therapist.

At my appointment with the therapist, (who I had only talked to in the past in regards to what was happening with the kids before they started seeing her as teenagers) she pointed out that she doesn’t know much about my background, except with what was going on with the kids, and occasionally, how Wil and I were handling all of that stuff during those years. She asked about my father (who as it turns out, is putting myself and my brother through a bit of legal junk right now, bringing the courthouse thing to the front of my mind) and how abusive was he to me. At first when I started talking about him, I didn’t think he was, but then I remembered that he hit me up until I was 15, when I was finally strong enough to stand up to him and make him stop. He was very emotionally abusive and controlling to my mom, which I always remembered, but somehow forgot about what he did to me. The therapist pointed out how I traded that physical abuse for emotional abuse with my ex-husband, and then the boyfriend after him, finally stopping that cycle of seeking that out in men when I met Wil. My life with Wil has been the two of us working so hard to be good people and separate ourselves from awful people, and that courtroom itself wasn’t the only trigger, it was the defendant sitting in front of me with that smirk who was about to control what I did with my life for the next six weeks whether I liked it or not, that brought up those feelings.

Turns out I spent all those years helping my kids get through a pretty horrible situation, but never helped myself along the way. Sure, I learned how to cope with it as much as I could, but I had felt like the way to separate myself from it was time and distance by thankfully, not seeing my father or my ex-husband for years.  No matter how much I had that space,  the old wounds resurfaced when I was forced to get close to it again. I get this fight-or-flight feeling that washes over me (It happened a year ago when I walked past that old boyfriend in Pasadena. He didn’t see me, but I saw him.) I’ve talked about all this stuff so much that what I do need to learn is how to handle that feeling that takes over me when I get in those situations. I’ve been seeing the therapist weekly since then, and I’m already feeling so much better.

So, this is why I haven’t updated my blog in a month. I wasn’t feeling up to talking about anything, really. But this is a situation that I’m sure happens to more people than we know, and sharing stuff like this I think helps others as much as it can help ourselves. I know it has helped me, so thanks for listening.

61 thoughts on “Panic Button, Pushed.

  1. I know all too well how it feels to have that tidal wave come over you because of one stupid asshole that triggers all the things that other people have done. I’m so sorry, Anne. You deserve better.

  2. Past abuse has a way of tripping us up at the most inconvenient times. I am glad the judge took your distress seriously, and glad you are taking care of yourself now.

  3. Thank you. The oddest things trigger my PTSD from the abusive household I grew up in, and it’s nice to know I’m not alone.

  4. Wow, sorry all that happened but glad to hear things are better now. Thanks for sharing the experience, I agree with it helping in so many ways 🙂

  5. I’m so sorry you had to go through that. I hope that you will continue to turn it into an opportunity to grow.

    And I hope you get a nice, short, but juicy case the next time.

  6. Thank you for sharing. I get those panic attacks too due to my ex and his games and controlling. I will be finding a therapist. I’ve avoided it for three years, but reading this makes me realize, I need to for my kids.

  7. Holy smokes what a thing to go through. I’m glad you’re doing better with everything. I’m also glad you joined the nerd side. (sorry for teh awkward, comfort is intended)

  8. Great blog! I am also dealing with my past, my abusive controlling father and ex, it is so tough but you are strong, far stronger than you think, something I have learnt, we survived and that is what makes us who we are!

  9. Thank you for sharing such a personal story. I suffer from General Anxiety, and am having difficulty identifying what triggers my attacks. Luckily, thru medication and meditation, they are quickly controlled. And I’m sorry your road in life has been so rough. But the joy you have now…

  10. Anne, sharing your issues with us must have been difficult. If it helps, know that there are lots of folks who may be faceless to you but we care about you and hope we can be of some comfort to you, even if that is only sending a cyber-hug your way and reading of your woes with an open and caring heart. Stand strong, listen to your therapist, and let Wil love you fiercely, because he does and you deserve it.

  11. I think your awesome!! Not only have acknowledged the problem but you are working to change ur response to a stressful situation!! ((HUG))

  12. Anne,
    Thank you for being so brave in sharing this. I totally understand how you feel. Sometimes even a smell can trigger a memory for me. I basically grew up in a hospital as a child: open heart and brain surgery when I was an infant and over 30 heart procedures since that time. Every single time I see an IV or smell that hospital sterilized smell I honestly go into an anxiety attack: my blood sugar drops, my pulse sky rockets and I break out into a sweat. It hasn’t always been this bad but about 5 years ago after one such heart procedure a nurse was removing an IV and forgot to NOT give me my blood thinner. Big mistake, I passed out from the loss of blood. Ever since then I completely go into a panic. I realize what happens to me can be nothing like what happened to you, but it is good to hear how my heroes (You and Wil) face the same kind of thing that I do, all the crazy things that make us human. I love your blog and I think you are just an awesome person!

  13. ~virtual hug~

    It’s so surprising how our own memories and perceptions of our own past can cloud the trauma and pain we experienced, and then some minor thing (objectively speaking) can bring it all back up. I’m really glad you have a therapist to help you through all this, and that you’re in a place in your life (with a partner that can and will support you) that you can start to deal with it and heal.

    As for the court case that brought all this to the surface… (warning: salty language ahead) 50 days!? For a freaking CIVIL SUIT? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME, JUDGE? What could they POSSIBLY go on and on about for 50 freaking days!? If your law schooled ass can’t argue such a straightforward sounding case in less than 50 days, you need to carry your ass back to school for some extra court practice, DAMN. If I were the judge, I’d have told them they have 10 days, at most. No one’s freedom was on the line, so expecting more than 10 days of testimony and evidence in a non-federal civil case is absurd. ~degenerates into incoherent ranting~

  14. What can be add that no one else has? Nothing really. I have not had any such experience, at least, not to those degrees.

    But I did want to give you a virtual hug, and say how much more I admire you. The strength you have rivals that of any super hero.
    Thank you for sharing your story. You are amazing.

  15. You don’t owe anyone here anything; blog when you feel like it, blog when you can…and know that things like this matter a hell of a lot to a hell of a lot of people. Everyone has triggers–PTSD or not–but we can’t always pinpoint what they are, and it really does help to see how someone else figures theirs out.

  16. Thank you for sharing this. PTSD is awful and I really hope your therapist can help. Until recently I always thought it was a war thing.. But recently I’ve learned otherwise.. I’ve always had anxiety trouble and I’ve tried several times to go an make appointments to get help with it.. But each time I go into an office I see Christian decor/items and feel uncomfortable and like I won’t be able to trust them.. Essentially more anxiety. I was talking to a friend who pointed out that I sound like I have PTSD from childhood abuse that carried a religious nature/was excused by religion and a controlling fundamentalist church that encouraged/participated in it. So far I’ve been unable to find a nonreligious therapist in rural Alabama.. :/ but online blogs, like this one, and books have helped me be able to recognise what is general anxiety and what is PTSD acting up as well as help me feel less alone.

  17. I am constantly amazed at your wiliness to be so vulnerable to all of us. Your inner strength is awesome. Thank you for sharing your story with us. Huge hugs to you.

  18. You are truly an amazing woman, and I feel honored that you are willing to share this little piece of yourself with us. My heart goes out to you, and I wish you continued support, strength, healing, and love from those around you. Thank you so much for your words <3

  19. Thank you for having the courage to share your story. Reading yours and Wil’s past blogs I knew you guys had a hard time with your ex but I didn’t know it was THAT bad. You and your family have such a lovely life now and it seems you all know to embrace and enjoy it. I’m really happy that you got courage to take the chance to open your heart to let Wil love you and to love him back. Those times on the videos when he looks at you and says he loves you we can actually see it in his eyes. And we can also see that you make him very happy.

  20. Oh, Anne. I cannot believe how much you have been through in your life. You are such an amazing person and I am sending the very strongest of healing thoughts to you. Please take extra good care of yourself right now.

  21. I am so sorry to hear about this painful experience!

    I’ve had therapy recommended to me many times by friends and family following some really painful stuff from a few years back. Both you and Wil have me more tempted than people telling me to go who have little experience with it.

    As far as the case, fifty days is just nuts. As a professor, it would cost me a third of a semester. My poor students. Especially if they had me for a few weeks, then someone else for two months, then back to me again? Talk about a roller coaster.

    I’ve gone to the courthouse for jury duty before, but never dreamed it could be a 50 day case. Woah. Now I’ll be terrified whenever I get summoned!

    Insanity!

  22. Thanks so much for sharing that, Anne. Having gone through a full-blown anxiety attack whilst talking to my boss the other week, I can fully appreciate how you feel, and it’s always good to have it confirmed that other people go through similar things. Mine are caused by my ME/CFS, s there’s no underlying trauma really, but knowing that doesn’t really help when I’m having a depressive episode. Much love, Anne, you’re a remarkable woman. xx

  23. I really appreciate your ability and willingness to share your troubles… I have PTSD from having a premature baby (who is now 2 1/2 and really well).. but I still have horrible episodes when I smell hand sanitizer or hear a hospital monitor beeping. I have trouble talking about it with anyone close to me, my therapist has been a wonderful help and I also have you and Wil to thank for making the issues of depression, PTSD and therapy less taboo and a little more comfortable to let those closest to me know about as time goes by. So thanks, and I’m really proud of you for taking action right away to help yourself live your wonderful life to its’ fullest.

  24. You have shared so much of yourself I feel like we’re one-way friends. I so admire your strength and resilience. You’ve kissed a lot of frogs but finally found a prince worthy of you. Stay strong and know that the positivity you and Wil put out to the universe will come back to you a thousandfold. Together you can do anything.

  25. This might make you feel good.

    I read this post in bed this morning. I got up and went downstairs and told my wife (of one year) about it and promised that I would not be like your exes. Then I promised my 18-month old daughter that I would not be like your father.

    My wife said, “My exes are already like her exes, you’re my Wil Wheaton” and kissed me. My daughter threw bananas at me, which I believe means “I love you too, Daddy.”

    I’m glad we’re all in a better place.

  26. Thank you for this, Anne. I’m so sorry for your struggle, but thank you for being so open about it with the world. And I’m glad you sought help as soon as you noticed you were struggling. I have people in my life who tried to fight and struggle on their own for years, only to wind up far worse than they were in the beginning. It was a traumatic experience just to watch. I hope you find the right mechanisms you need to help you live a full and rich life. I’ve found, too, over the years that having a dedicated therapist has really helped. Big hugs to you!

  27. I wanted to take a moment to tell you how really brave I think you are–not just in posting your story–but in how you work so hard to live your life authentically and with such joy. And I really appreciate how you are willing to share your struggles and triumphs with the world. I’m not one for posting or commenting online–I’m a very private person who lives a very quiet life, getting by as best I can. I have found reading your story inspiring–you write with such heart. And I just wanted to thank you for sharing.

  28. I was chosen for a federal court case for two large corporations who were suing each other. It was four days a week for six months. I also suffered a panic attack in court during trial and they had to send everyone home for the day. I am happy for you that your experience helped you to resolve some of your own issues because there are not many things worse than enduring a full blown panic attack in public, especially when you are made the center of attention as a result…

  29. You are so strong for sharing this. You never know when those abuse triggers are going to show up and it takes great strength to ask for help and do the work to deal with it. You may still get triggered, but the response will be less intense and you’ll recover faster. Wishing you good healing and the ability to relish all of the fantastic things you have in your life right now.

  30. Thank you for having the courage to share this. It’s good to know there are other people that deal with this kind of anxiety and that there is a way to cope with it when you have a loving family around you to support. Hope you feel better!

  31. Oh, Anne! I know those anxiety attacks all too well. And sadly, I know about emotional abuse from fathers all too well. ALL THE HUGS FOR YOU!

    And I’m so very, very glad that you and Wil found each other. <3

  32. I was so sorry to read your tweets about this when it happened. Thank you for sharing the followup. It’s good to hear the “rest of the story” and how things can & do sort out for the best.

    I’ve had two adrenaline dumps this past week. One run of the mill. The other having life changing potential and still being sorted out. Dealing with anxiety, an adrenaline dump and getting rid of it doesn’t play well.

    So thank you for the timely reminder that things will work out and there is help.

  33. Well, if you were feeling awful enough not to be able to post to your blog, and now you’re posting to your blog, I guess that’s a good sign. Hope all your next steps make things even better than this first one.

  34. Thank you, Anne. I appreciate your willingness to share the hard things in life as well as the funny. I’m glad you have found a good therapist and are working through the echoes of past hell. I hope these echoes fade successfully, leaving only a faint memory. Until then, stay strong.

  35. Hey there lady,
    This thing you have created is for fun, for you and us. Say what you want, when you want. Don’t ever feel bad about not posting or posting somthing specific on any topic. You do EXACTLY what you damn well want to and we will just enjoy the ride. ( I totally agree with the 50 days comment. Don’t ever feel guilty about setting your limits for giving. Love your self first)
    I would say hugs, but you have Wil and your guys and so are well equipped.
    Dave

  36. You and Wil seem to be doing so well, your blog reminds us that you are people the same as us dealing with what life throws at you. All the best from soggy Scotland

  37. Props to you for being so open about such an obviously personal issue. I was the foreman on an attempted murder trial and I can tell you first hand it’s one of the more traumatic and disturbing events in my life.

  38. Hi Anne, I have to admit I have missed you…but I totally understand how you’re feeling. I have just started seeing a therapist myself for anxiety attacks related to my husband’s health challenges. I agree that weird things can trigger them…but with knowledge comes power…and being self aware is a powerful wonderful thing. Blessings to you and Wil, I’m so looking forward to his show and all the things you are both doing. Take care!!!

  39. Anne, I admire you for sharing and for seeking help to figure out why you had such an extreme reaction. I also admire you for creating such a wonderful life with Wil and your kids considering the obstacles you had to overcome. My friends call me a “pig magnet” since if there is a dirtbag in the room, I will invariably be attracted to him. You found a good one and took the steps you needed to make your life what it is – You are hilarious and beautiful and I have started my nieces on the #vandaleyes path. I also have my nail wraps and am just waiting for a suitably awesome event to wear them to. Your honesty and vulnerability is helpful to many – thank you for being so open.

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