Let me preface what I'm about to say with I'm sorry if this sounds like whining. That is not my intention at all. I just want to write about an experience I had over the weekend that freaked me out a bit so that I can hopefully stop thinking about it! It's more of a therapeutic writing down of things, if you will. It's harshing my chill.
Over the weekend, Steve was gone to visit some family. I was alone, which I have never minded being. These days, especially with, (*gestures widely at the world*) all of this that's going on, I rarely get time by myself and it's nice to do my own dos and think my own thinks. No offense to Steve, but, yeah.
So Friday was fine. Friday was great. Friday was all the things that a Friday should be and more. I stayed up fairly late so Friday wouldn't be over so fast, you know how those things go. So when I finally went to sleep, I was 100% fine. That is important to know.
I woke up exactly two hours later in a blind, complete, irrational panic. You know that feeling you get when someone jumps out at you and you scream and jump back? Imagine that, but that feeling doesn't stop. I sat up in bed, mostly asleep, and every fiber in my body is on edge telling me that something was very, very wrong. It felt like electricity was running through my body and my first clear thought was that I couldn't breathe. I sat on the edge of the bed gasping and clawing at my throat, only to only finally realize that I was breathing just fine. That didn't help, though, so I ran through the house to the bathroom and threw some cold water on myself (because that sometimes works to shock me out of an anxiety attack) but it just made it all worse. I managed to grab one of my anti-anxiety pills out of the cabinet and tossed it back, but I knew that it would take about 1/2 an hour before it would take effect.
I ran back and got into bed, with waves and waves of panic running through me. I lay there and tried to rationally figure out what was wrong, which is another thing that sometimes helps pull me out of an attack, but my brain wouldn't cooperate. I kept thinking "I'm here alone and something is wrong. I don't know what to do! I don't know what to do!" Every one of my muscles were locked up and I was shaking. It was awful. I thought about calling my mom, but I knew she would be afraid because I couldn't tell her what exactly was going on, and if she decided to drive across town (which she absolutely would) she might not be careful. I finally called Steve, even though he was hours away, because what I mainly needed was someone to talk to to keep me from feeling so alone. I hated to do it, because I knew he'd be asleep and he might get mad, but thankfully he didn't. I lay there in bed, shaking, talking to him, trying to explain what was going on, but finally just talking about anything while trying to unlock my brain from whatever was going on. He talked me into taking another of the pills, which I did - chewing it up this time to make it work faster - and after about 15 minutes, I calmed down enough to get off of the phone. It was terrifying, and I have no idea what the trigger was that caused it. I've had one anxiety attack similar to it before, years ago, and I wound up in an emergency room because the doctor thought I was having a heart attack. This one was arguably worse. I finally managed to fall asleep again after about an hour when the meds kicked in.
I ended up sleeping until after noon, because the medicine does that to me. When I woke up, I felt like I'd been in some kind of accident. I hurt all over, and I still had remnants of the shakes. I couldn't eat, I couldn't work on the graphics stuff I needed to do, and I couldn't even take a shower. I sat in my chair and watched mindless TV until I could function like a human being again. My mom called and I told her what had happened, and I was right not to call her, I think. She would have come right away, but not in a good frame of mind. She invited me to come and stay with them, but I told her no. I had to be at church the next day, and I didn't want to admit I was too shaky to drive. I ended up taking another anti anxiety pill and calming down enough to eat and get out of the chair for a while, but I was completely drained. I was ok after that, but I made sure to have my medicine in the bedroom with me and a phone in my hand when I went to sleep, in case it happened again. Thankfully, it didn't.
Hand to God, I don't know what triggered such an awful attack. I don't sleep much anyway, so it wasn't going to bed late. I was in a great frame of mind when I was falling asleep, and I don't remember any nightmares. The main thing I remember when waking up was that something just felt wrong. Once I realized I could breathe, my main issue was that I was afraid that I'd have to call someone to come and help me, and I kept thinking "I don't want to go to the hospital again, I don't want to go to the hospital again." I don't know why I kept thinking that, because I couldn't pinpoint anything that would make me have to go to the hospital. It was very, very weird. Thankfully by Sunday morning, I felt more myself. I made it to church and was ok by the time Steve came home. I still don't know what happened.
I do have one theory, and it may be very stupid, but it's the only one I have.
As I have mentioned before, I have degenerative disk disease and that causes constant, relentless back pain. It isn't debilitating, thankfully, but it keeps me from doing a lot of physical activities because one wrong move and my arms go numb and my spine sends signals to my shoulder and rib cage telling me that I could be dying. I already have a phobia of sudden heart attacks because that is how my dad died and apparently I was traumatized by that, so when my arms go numb and my chest hurts, well, that's just where my brain goes. It sucks donkey balls, because even when I can rationally think "that is not how a heart attack works" the lizard part of my brain says "Well, yeah, but what if you're wrong this time?" Also, the nerve shocks that I get through my back feel exactly the same as when I get startled. You know that creepy feeling like someone is looking at you from behind? It's like that, so I have a constant feeling of being stalked, which just adds on to the scary feeling. I think maybe I slept weird and pinched a nerve that set off a bunch of pain that my body didn't know how to handle all at once. I put an ice pack on my back, and it helped me calm down, so maybe it's all just nerve impulses that are triggering a fear response. It's all very stupid, I can say that with authority.
Oh, but the best part? Since then, it's like I have PTSD and anytime I've been alone (which even goes to being alone in a room) I start having mini panic attacks. I had a panic attack so massive that being by myself now scares me. It's so much fun. I can't live like that, though, because Steve has to travel for work and I sometimes have to be in room by myself, and I am a grown ass woman who shouldn't have to have a babysitter. I can't be afraid all of the time. That is not how I want to live my life.
SIGH. I'm hoping this goes away very soon, because I have a life to live and fun stuff to do in it. If there is one part of this that I can appreciate, it's that I am trying to fight against it instead of submitting to it. I cannot stress enough about how stupid I feel this all is. It makes me MAD. I hope I can get the source of whatever is causing this corrected.
So (for those of you still here reading this) I'm asking you to pray or send good vibes, or whatever you might do, that I can get this weird situation under control. I don't have time for this!!
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