The first time I had an anxiety attack I thought I was going to die. It was over a year and a half ago, when all the issues and stress began. When my life began to unravel faster than I could stitch it all back together. This was something I’d never considered would happen to me. I’ve always been strong. Strong willed. Strong physically. Strong mentally. But the first time it happened, it’d been “one of those” days… everyone says that, and before now, I’d just taken them with a grain of salt. Even when I said it, I didn’t really register what it meant. It just meant go home, have a hot shower, a stiff drink, a good night’s rest and the next day you’d be right as rain… but it started to get to the point, those things weren’t working… I didn’t really notice it at first… but day after day, week after week, month after month… the good night’s sleep wasn’t helping… all the drinks in the world, didn’t change anything, just gave me more headaches.
The anxiety attacks, once I realized what they were, were actually the start of my fight to save myself. The worst part about these attacks, were not the fact that they were happening but that I’d let myself get to the point where they were happening at all! And I was powerless to stop them. I’d try as hard as could to “talk myself down” and all it did was make it worse. I never would have guessed that after all that stress and issues your body literally goes into electrical toxic shock and overload. Chest pain, can’t breathe, the shooting tingling down my arms and legs. The worst one I had actually knocked me to my knees. The second worst one, I threw up. I was stuck on the side of a freeway for an hour because of all the symptoms that I couldn’t drive myself home. In my mind I kept telling myself, I need to just calm down; that I’ll be ok, and this will pass. But your body is to the point, it’s NOT buying it. It’s a mental and physical shock and awe that says if you won’t save yourself, you body will do it for you… I had 6 of them last week. By Thursday I’d had 4 and my chest was hurting soooo much from the after effects I didn’t think I’d ever be able to breathe again… Even now, just writing this, thinking about it, I feel the onset of one… I won’t let it win; I won’t let it happen… I feel the tightening of the chest… the arms and legs starting to tingle and numb up… all because I’m afraid… afraid of rejection. Ridicule. Humiliation.
Admitting you have a problem is like painting a big red target on your butt and yelling, “victim here!! Victim here!!! Come and get me!!!” I think that’s the same thing for any problem. Alcoholism. Disease. Mental issues. Family Issues. Depression. People are afraid of what they don’t understand. That fear breeds defensiveness and abrasiveness and the desire to down play it, push it away… get it as far away from you as possible. We’ve all done it. The first step to overcoming a problem like this is to understand the depth of the issues. That's another reason why I’ve started a blog to share what I’m going through. If I think about it, study it, acknowledge it maybe I can fight it and overcome it. Maybe, by sharing my thoughts and experiences, someone else will understand a little more of what they are going through, and realize they’re not alone, and maybe what steps to take to help themselves. And maybe someone watching someone else go through it, will understand them a little more. Since I’ve started talking about this, those that don’t or can’t understand have distanced themselves. Some have just slowly stepped back in that awkward silence when you feel for someone but really don’t know what to say or do. Others, just ignore it, ignore you and hope that it’ll go away, they don’t want to see it or face what may be more challenging than they can handle. And some, honestly, just don’t give a rat’s ass. And then there are the ones that surprised me most of all. The ones that stepped up, arms open, hearts open, wide with concern and feeling saying “I’m not sure what I can do, but here I am. Cry with me. Let me hold you.” Or even just picking up the load and carrying it for you awhile… The amazing Christian, single hard working woman that took us in when our house was gone and we had nowhere to go. The friend I hadn’t spoken to in 25 years, that called me in a panic because I hadn’t returned her texts soon enough and she was really concerned. One of my coworkers who at work seemed nice enough but we really never talked or were “friends” that showed up on my door one particularly rough day just to check on me, just to make sure I hadn’t harmed myself yet and then hung out for 6 hours. Just to let me cry, kept me moving, let me know I wasn’t alone. The three amazing ladies that have been there for coffee dates, here's one of my smokes, girls nights. They've cried with me, prayed for me, listened to me... Other's showed up with pick up trucks, moving boxes and at my yard sale to lend a hand even though i never asked. They were there for me without me even realizing it. I thank God everyday i'm still here because of them. They've shown me the person i want to be, caring, giving, and there, just like they were. These people have no idea, how much they played a part in pulling me back from the edge. I’m a firm believer in buck up, suck it up and push on… but I’ve learned even I have my breaking point, and I reached it a long, long time ago… Thinking back on all of it now, they came and binded the pieces back together, picked up the shards, swept away the shattered feelings and without me know it, started to remind me what it was to almost feel normal again. Not one judgment among them. Not one critism, not one complaint. I'm lucky, i realize now, to know such amazing people in my life. One friend told me, "draw your strength from them. They can afford it." I think their strength comes from spirit, faith, character, and heart. The more they give, the stronger they are... I learned one of the most important lessons from all of them... Ones i wont forget.
This experience has taught me the definition of insanity. Doing what you’ve always done, and expecting different results. I was insane for what I was doing to myself, and for foolishly believing I was helpless to change it. I just kept plodding along; hoping things would change without doing anything to MAKE them change. Sure, I half heartedly tried. I had told my employer several times, I can’t do this anymore, I’m done. And despite their promises of change, or getting me help, it never came. I should have insisted or fought harder I guess. I should have let go of that shattered love long before it destroyed what little of myself i had left. I told my friends, girl’s night, I’d say something… I’d joke it off, or just give the same excuse I’ve been giving for so long… “I’ll be okay, it’ll get better.” Those days are long gone now… I’m to the point, I have no choice. If I could put a sticker on my forehead in great big letters it’d say “FRAGILE! HANDLE WITH CARE!” I’ve also learned that next time someone says they can’t take it anymore, give them a second look; take the extra 5 minutes (or 5 hours… or 5 months) to carry their load for a little while. You just might be saving them more than you thought…
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