Panic Attacks
Today I thought I'd try something new. I am going to try to talk you through my experience with panic attacks.
Note: not all people experience panic attacks the same. Honestly, it would be really surprising if two different people experienced anything exactly the same. Unless you were clones. But then are you really two different people? More on philosophy another time.
Here we go.
My panic attacks always start with a high. High energy, high excitement, high motivation. Hyper almost. It took me a long time to notice that this particular mood almost always swings down into a panic attack.
Could it be the high tires me out so much my body panics? Or maybe subconsciously I wish I always had the high and the pain of coming off it and knowing it could be weeks before I am that excited and productive again triggers the attack?
I don't know, I don't have a medical degree.
But as we swing down I get sad. Really sad. My chest feels hollow yet heavy and my hands and feet go numb. I start clenching and unclenching my fists subconsciously. Trying to keep my focus on the now and not the voices in my head setting the stage for a full on 'You Suck --feat. YOU' performance. My vision narrows significantly, if my eyes are even open at this point. The walls seemingly start to close in on me and I feel trapped in a labyrinth of negative thoughts.
You're not good enough for him.
You're never going to get a job with pain like this.
What if you fail out of college?
You're a burden.
You're nothing.
Remember when you used to cut? Don't you think that would help right now?
This labyrinth is not escapable. I've tried. I always try. Turns out the harder you fight the labyrinth in your mind the higher the walls climb around you.
I am good enough. Remember yesterday when you called him crying? He was busy. You messed him up.
I can get a job, there must be something out there I can do. Like an online job? How long have we been looking for one of those. No one wants someone without a masters degree.
I am not going to fail, my marks are great this semester. Things can change, you can flare. Your health could get worse.
And on and on it goes cycling, fighting, to have the upper hand in a fight against myself.
Who wins? No one. Because at this point I am hyperventilating. Sobbing while gasping for air in between.
Luckily now, when I reach this point, I know I need to focus on my breathing or I will pass out. Thankfully it has never gotten there. The hyperventilating is almost helpful as it gives me something specific to fix.
Slow the breathing. Long inhale. Hold. Sob. Short exhale.
No, again.
Long inhale. Small sob. Hold. Shaky exhale.
Better, again
Long inhale. Hold. Long Exhale.
We're almost there.
The breathing continues. Hard to focus on the thoughts when you're so focused on your breathing. Haha stupid panic attacks. Joke's on you, I used you against you.
The breathing slows, the tears dry, and if there is one thing panic attacks are good for, it's getting the most deep sleep of your life directly afterwards.
I have never run a marathon, but I believe panic attacks take about equal energy. Maybe a half marathon.
Full body, muscle, mind fatigue. If you have it, it's tired. Never go to war with yourself. Even when you win you lose.
I hear some people can get panic attacks worrying about getting a panic attack. My heart goes out to those people. Getting through a panic attack is one of the hardest things I've had to do in my health journeys. Going through them alone is close to impossible. But it gets easier each time.
My boyfriend has coached my breathing through many-a-late-night panic attack. And now even when he isn't there they don't last more than 10 minutes.
They used to be hours long. They used to spiral into the darkest black depression thoughts you could imagine while I hyperventilated until I puked stomach acid from an otherwise empty stomach.
It sucks. Panic attacks suck. I wish I could sugar coat things. I wish I could say it gets better. But honest to god, panic attacks suck so much and sometimes there is no way to avoid it.
Many of my medical symptoms are like that.
The BPD mood swings.
The fibro pain flares around my period.
Panic attacks.
There is no prevention (as of yet with current medical resources). There is no cure. There is only 'try to manage it with these under-researched strategies and drugs' and wait it out.
I do a lot of waiting while in a state most people wouldn't survive. And I can be proud of that. Doesn't mean it doesn't piss me off though. Sometimes I let myself be bitter. I think I deserve that. I have missed out on a lot in the last several years because of my health.
I think the flip side of all this is you learn who your friends are very quickly.
How many times can I cancel on you before you stop inviting me?
How uncomfortable are you talking about blood test results and suicide?
Do you get mad if I forget to text back?
My life is different. I have to factor in different things. But don't we all?
In the last several years I have collected new and old friends who are 100% cool with the things I factor into my life, and have no problems accommodating or helping me. And it's never a one way street. If you treat me with respect and kindness then I 100% will be holding your hand during your panic attack. Or googling weird urine symptoms you're not sure if you should see a doctor for.
(BONUS of being friends with me: I have no shame and am open to discussing pretty much anything with anyone given mutual respect)
Sometimes in life you just gotta go through it. But it's never alone. Don't let it be alone. It is far braver to ask for help.
Because, in the end, we're all just going through it, aren't we?
Note: not all people experience panic attacks the same. Honestly, it would be really surprising if two different people experienced anything exactly the same. Unless you were clones. But then are you really two different people? More on philosophy another time.
Here we go.
My panic attacks always start with a high. High energy, high excitement, high motivation. Hyper almost. It took me a long time to notice that this particular mood almost always swings down into a panic attack.
Could it be the high tires me out so much my body panics? Or maybe subconsciously I wish I always had the high and the pain of coming off it and knowing it could be weeks before I am that excited and productive again triggers the attack?
I don't know, I don't have a medical degree.
But as we swing down I get sad. Really sad. My chest feels hollow yet heavy and my hands and feet go numb. I start clenching and unclenching my fists subconsciously. Trying to keep my focus on the now and not the voices in my head setting the stage for a full on 'You Suck --feat. YOU' performance. My vision narrows significantly, if my eyes are even open at this point. The walls seemingly start to close in on me and I feel trapped in a labyrinth of negative thoughts.
You're not good enough for him.
You're never going to get a job with pain like this.
What if you fail out of college?
You're a burden.
You're nothing.
Remember when you used to cut? Don't you think that would help right now?
This labyrinth is not escapable. I've tried. I always try. Turns out the harder you fight the labyrinth in your mind the higher the walls climb around you.
I am good enough. Remember yesterday when you called him crying? He was busy. You messed him up.
I can get a job, there must be something out there I can do. Like an online job? How long have we been looking for one of those. No one wants someone without a masters degree.
I am not going to fail, my marks are great this semester. Things can change, you can flare. Your health could get worse.
And on and on it goes cycling, fighting, to have the upper hand in a fight against myself.
Who wins? No one. Because at this point I am hyperventilating. Sobbing while gasping for air in between.
Luckily now, when I reach this point, I know I need to focus on my breathing or I will pass out. Thankfully it has never gotten there. The hyperventilating is almost helpful as it gives me something specific to fix.
Slow the breathing. Long inhale. Hold. Sob. Short exhale.
No, again.
Long inhale. Small sob. Hold. Shaky exhale.
Better, again
Long inhale. Hold. Long Exhale.
We're almost there.
The breathing continues. Hard to focus on the thoughts when you're so focused on your breathing. Haha stupid panic attacks. Joke's on you, I used you against you.
The breathing slows, the tears dry, and if there is one thing panic attacks are good for, it's getting the most deep sleep of your life directly afterwards.
I have never run a marathon, but I believe panic attacks take about equal energy. Maybe a half marathon.
Full body, muscle, mind fatigue. If you have it, it's tired. Never go to war with yourself. Even when you win you lose.
I hear some people can get panic attacks worrying about getting a panic attack. My heart goes out to those people. Getting through a panic attack is one of the hardest things I've had to do in my health journeys. Going through them alone is close to impossible. But it gets easier each time.
My boyfriend has coached my breathing through many-a-late-night panic attack. And now even when he isn't there they don't last more than 10 minutes.
They used to be hours long. They used to spiral into the darkest black depression thoughts you could imagine while I hyperventilated until I puked stomach acid from an otherwise empty stomach.
It sucks. Panic attacks suck. I wish I could sugar coat things. I wish I could say it gets better. But honest to god, panic attacks suck so much and sometimes there is no way to avoid it.
Many of my medical symptoms are like that.
The BPD mood swings.
The fibro pain flares around my period.
Panic attacks.
There is no prevention (as of yet with current medical resources). There is no cure. There is only 'try to manage it with these under-researched strategies and drugs' and wait it out.
I do a lot of waiting while in a state most people wouldn't survive. And I can be proud of that. Doesn't mean it doesn't piss me off though. Sometimes I let myself be bitter. I think I deserve that. I have missed out on a lot in the last several years because of my health.
I think the flip side of all this is you learn who your friends are very quickly.
How many times can I cancel on you before you stop inviting me?
How uncomfortable are you talking about blood test results and suicide?
Do you get mad if I forget to text back?
My life is different. I have to factor in different things. But don't we all?
In the last several years I have collected new and old friends who are 100% cool with the things I factor into my life, and have no problems accommodating or helping me. And it's never a one way street. If you treat me with respect and kindness then I 100% will be holding your hand during your panic attack. Or googling weird urine symptoms you're not sure if you should see a doctor for.
(BONUS of being friends with me: I have no shame and am open to discussing pretty much anything with anyone given mutual respect)
Sometimes in life you just gotta go through it. But it's never alone. Don't let it be alone. It is far braver to ask for help.
Because, in the end, we're all just going through it, aren't we?
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