I started getting panic attacks when I was as young as 12-years-old. I didn't know what they were, but I knew something wasn't right inside of me. I would find myself curling up on my bed, crying, because I thought of a bad outcome to my life. I would freak out over things that hadn't happened yet, such as, a boyfriend breaking up with me, my mom dying, my sister getting hit by a car, failing a test, getting pregnant before graduating high school. My parents were divorced at this time, so I stayed with my mom and sister. The "My mom is late and thus probably is dead" panic attack came on very frequently.
It didn't take me very long to realize that panic attacks suck a whole bunch, so, I did what I always do when I'm in a messy situation, I joked about it. For about 11 years I just went through life, laughing at myself. Calling myself crazy. Saying that it runs in my family. Saying that it wasn't a big deal.
Until about the fall of 2011. This is when I started getting very ill. Constant migraines, the inability to keep food down, and blackouts plagued my being for over six months. I went to the doctor, of course. She had me fill out a few quizzes. As I suspected, the quizzes said that I had extreme, and I mean really extreme, anxiety. You see, for as long as I can remember, I've itched my arms and legs all the time. If I stop and do nothing for a minute, I get tense and get the feeling that something is crawling under my skin, so I scratch to get my mind off of whatever is making me tense. I told my doctor about what I thought was dry skin. She was smart enough to see through that. Yay competent doctors. So, she put me on some anti-anxiety medication.
Remember this guy? What is he? A rock? Poor little, sad rock.
I really thought that would be the end of nearly a decade of anxiety.
Lols. It wasn't.
After adjusting my medication four times, they gave up. My doctors all moved past my anxiety. One doctor, who is horrible, even started naming off STDs and Hepatitis, because obviously since I have tattoos, I'm a hooker who shoots up, right?
So, it's been about five months since they gave up. I'm still taking my medication.. and I swear to God I feel worse.
Some days are better than others. Usually, the days where I have a lot to do and little alone time go by much better than days like today.
These new panic attacks have taken some awful twists and turns. Besides worrying about loved ones dying, I freak out over past mistakes I've made because I think they'll ruin my future. I get stuck in this place in my mind where nothing in my life will work out. I see myself in a padded room, lost in thoughts of a better life. I feel myself being more attached to my dreams. I feel anxious when I wake up because I know my dreams will never come true, because I know that my day will never be as good as a dream, because in my dreams I don't feel scared or anxious. I fear that I've lost myself to my inner self, to my dreams.
Sometimes I'm okay, though. I laugh and smile. Sometimes days go by, and nothing bad happens. But then a day like today happens. I realize I only have a few weeks left with Martijn. I worry that I'll break down like the last time I left. And somewhere in this worry, I breakdown. I cry because I don't know what's going to happen. I cry because I miss school and the stability it provided. I cry because I'm too scared about the future to try to change it.
So I begin chain smoking, or popping a piece of gum every five seconds, or start eating all the m&ms that are green, or something just as ridiculous.
Well, today I decided to write about it after I read a wonderful Web site.
What this Web site did for me is show me that panic attacks are not necessarily dangerous. I mean, unless you're having one in the middle of a busy street, essentially all a panic attack contains is extreme discomfort.
In all the years that I've known about my anxiety disorder, I have never actually read up on it. I've just accepted it at face value and continue to wait for the meds to kick in. Reading this page and this link have helped me tremendously by showing me how to begin the process of healing. I'm realizing that my fears and anxiety move in a never-ending circle of madness. I realize that even when I'm seemingly okay, in the back of my head I'm just looking for the next trigger.
Now, because I'm one of those people who can't be alone but has trouble in large groups from time to time, my situation is a little messed up, but I've stopped crying for the night, and to me that's a big step. I'm one of those people, that even when I'm okay in a group setting, if I'm not in control, I feel myself stepping out of the situation, like I'm having an out-of-body experience. I feel like I'm just going through the motions. Tonight I've learned that this is a common symptom, and I've learned ways to combat it.
I'm trying to accept that I won't know the future. That I can't control everything. I'm trying to understand that just because I'm not in control doesn't mean that my opinion doesn't matter. When people leave the room or house, I can't control if they'll ever come back. I can't know when people will die or disappear. I just have to accept that and try to move on.
I have to move forward. I can't just stay the same. I mean, if I did, I'd probably turn out like this chick.
So basically what I'm here to tell you is this: sometimes calling yourself a "realist" or a "pessimist" is just covering up a problem. Having a problem doesn't mean you're stupid or less intelligent. When you're having a panic attack, it will suck. You will feel helpless and alone. Just try to keep telling yourself that, while in discomfort, you're not in danger. Like I said before, unless you're in some crowded street paralyzed by fear, you will make it through. Gum, cigarettes, a person, a song, an action did not save you from danger because the danger you thought you were in is hypothetical.
While this has been quite the downer of a post, it's actually helped me. Sorting through my thoughts and feelings, trying to make them understandable, it's helped. I just hope I haven't scared whoever is reading this off.
Really, I'll be better.
Um... Yeah. That's really all I've got..
xoxo
Sarah
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