On the edge of panic

(written last night but I had trouble posting to blogger until today)

I have been having panic attacks for almost twenty years. I go through phases where I have them more frequently, such as when I was pregnant with Athena. I saw a therapist who helped me learn ways to reduce both the frequency and the severity of attacks.

I can often tell when an attack is imminent. I don’t feel quite right; a little anxious, a little off kilter. Frequently this is when I am either stressed, or exhausted, or both. I was feeling a bit off last night, and today was a struggle to keep myself from succumbing to a full-blown attack.

If you have never suffered from panic disorder, it is hard to explain how debilitating it can be. Imagine feeling like you are about to pass out, throw up, and/or drive yourself off a cliff (or all three) at any given moment. Then imagine that you never know when these feelings will strike. It used to be that it only happened to me while I was driving, or when there was snow on the ground. Then one day I flipped out in a business meeting, and realized it could happen anywhere.

I now know that getting enough rest, good nutrition, absolutely zero caffeine, and plenty of water all help me avoid an attack. I have also figured out ways to keep myself from completely losing it. This is what happened today. I got up at 5am after about six hours of interrupted sleep. Drove to the Bainbridge Island ferry to catch a 7:05am boat to Seattle. I felt a bit anxious in the car, but focused on keeping my mind clear of excess clutter (rapid thoughts are a symptom of panic). I breathed slowly and drank some water. It helped.

At the conference today I didn’t feel panicked but I felt so very tired, and a little scared of driving home. I battled the feeling of impending panic for half of the way home. For about 15 minutes things got pretty hairy. I felt clammy and disconnected from my body. I was in danger of hyperventilating. My mind was flitting from one thought to the next, interspersed with judgment about my inability to control my symptoms. The sun was in my eyes, making things even worse (panic brings great photo sensitivity – for me anyway). I focused on all the tools I had learned to try and calm myself down. It worked, eventually. For the last 25 minutes of the drive, I was fine. Calm, normal, even awake.

The sense of relief I felt when I realized the panic had passed was immense. After a full-blown attack, I can feel ‘on edge’ for days afterward. In this case, I felt almost back to normal. Every time these techniques work and I don’t go off the deep end, I feel more empowered that I am not at the mercy of random panic. It is a good reminder, though, that I need to take care of myself – physically and emotionally – if I want to keep these experiences to a minimum.

Double Whammy

When my monthlong "Winter Crud" began to recycle symptoms, I decided to come out of denial and seek medical attention. My regular doctor (and her entire clinic) could not see me, so I went to the new-ish urgent care center at the edge of town. A very friendly and relatively swift exam and X-ray revealed double pneumonia.

Why double, you say? Double means I have the dreaded goo in both lungs, not just one. I must have the "walking" kind of pneumonia because I had barely missed any work and up until that point was not considering cancelling my weekend plans (which I subsequently did, and was glad). Steve came home early from work, we bailed on various playdates and other activities, and I have been laying low with my antiboitics and inhaler. I feel roughly the same... marginally better, I suppose, but I didn't feel *that bad* before.

When I started really listening to Athena's breath earlier today, I got skittish and took her up there too. Since she had RSV as a newborn, she's more susceptible to respitory infections and asthma. She's been coughing for a few weeks too, but not nearly as horribly as I. She is fine -- a cold, they say. "No mom, you are the only one who is sick."

Well, that's good.