Anatomy of a Panic Attack

Edvard Munch. Anxiety, 1894. Munch Museum, Oslo

I've mentioned in previous posts that I'm prone to anxiety.  I've come to regard my anxiety as a valued messenger who shows up to tell me I'm off course.  My anxiety is feedback from my body telling me I'm out of balance, that something needs attention.  The worse the anxiety, the more I'm off balance in body, mind or spirit.  Usually, when I begin to feel a subtle sense of apprehension or butterflies in my gut, I journal to see if I can determine what needs attending to or help me unravel whatever is bothering me.  Sometimes I just know what's wrong and take care of it and the anxiety begins to melt.

This summer I've been doing too much, sleeping too little and consuming far too much toxic crap ~ refined carbs, junk food, strong coffee and sugar.  I haven't broken a sweat from exercise in months and I am perimenosal.  To top it off, I have procrastinated on responsibilities in favor of too much playtime both online and off. 

My body has been screaming its feedback in the form of generalized anxiety, fatigue and crankiness.  And I chose to ignore it.

The result was a meltdown on Friday July 31st, the likes of which I haven't experienced in years.

Here's how it unfolded.

I waited until the last day of July to have my car inspected.  It has been on my "to do" list for the past month, but I chose to procrastinate.  Afterall, it's boring and who wants to do the boring thing when there are so many more interesting things to do like surf the net, read blogs, sleep, surf some more then go out for ice cream.

At 3:00 that afternoon there was series of three simple events that, combined, were my undoing.

First, the mechanic called to tell me my car wouldn't pass inspection until they repaired this and that and this and that and bla bla bla and it would cost $600.   Secondly, while I was on the phone with him the doorbell rang and there were two people standing on my front porch.   One was a lady to collect a birdhouse I was painting for an auction.  She was an hour early and I still had to do a few finishing touches then sign it and her early arrival caught me unprepared.  Next to her was our mailperson with a certified letter telling me I was behind on the payment of a piece of property I own.  I wasn't behind because of no money, but because I hadn't gotten my ass to the post office to mail the payments.

I signed for the letter then ran in the house and grabbed the birdhouse leaving the finishing touches unfinished then ran back to the phone and told the mechanic to wait until I decided what to do.

I hung up the phone and sat in silence.  Then I began to cry.  And cry and cry and cry.  It felt pretty good for awhile, very cathartic.  But what happened next was the appearance of an old familiar enemy.  I was beginning to have a panic attack. 

“In panic attacks feeling follows thought so swiftly it is as if thought and feeling are one ”  ~Dr. Claire Weekes

It begins as a feeling of apprehension deep in my solar plexus then moves to my hands.  My fingers begin to tingle and the tingling sensation moves up my arms.  My hands begin to sweat.  Now I'm paralyzed and can't move and a warm but unsettling sensation of terror washes over me.   What happens next is hard to describe.  I get the sensation of being detached.  This feeling of detachment is surreal and I think you can only understand it if you've experienced it.  It's a sense of being unconnected to anything.  Removed.  And it's terrifying.  At this point I wasn't even crying, just sitting in a state of dread.  Some people have breathing issues but that has never been one of my symptoms, thank God.   Nope.  Just pure unabated terror.

Then it begins to fade, never last more than a few minutes.  And what is left is worse than that panic attack.  For days, sometimes weeks afterward I live in constant dread of its return.  A darkness settles on my heart and I do everything I can to feel lighter.  Apparently this cycle of anxiety, panic and depression is not uncommon.

Four days after this event, I got my period ~ after a seven month absence ~ which tells me that my PMS must have been extreme. With powerful hormone shifts and a system weakened by unhealthy choices, it's no wonder my body revolted the way it did.  Further I began to understand that I am feeling sad and even fearful about Gianluca leaving for college this month.  He's my youngest and his going off to school represents many things; the end of a chapter in our lives, a quiet house with no sports on the calander and teenagers hanging out.  And the fact that I am, indeed, getting older.

I have been diffusing my calming and grounding oils and and making new grounding blends for the massage room.  My clients think it's for them, but that's not necessarily true.

I began to read a book called The Mood Cure by Julia Ross, PhD and for the past ten days I have been following her protocol for lifting the dark cloud.  Her website is www.themoodcure.com

I've been exercising hard (one thing that always makes me feel better quickly), avoiding all caffeine, sugar and alcohol.  I am taking 5-HTP twice a day and have gone back to eating gluten-free (something else that changes my mood to from dark to light). I've stocked up the fridge with lots of fruits and veggies, high protein foods, flax oil, fish, nuts, brown rice and goat cheese.  We're going to eat healthier, by God!

I have also been clearing the clutter in my house and just yesterday hired a home organizer to help us get the house finished this year (we've been under construction for 4 years).  She has a plan of action for every room in the house and is even going to create a new art room for me.  I have been reviewing anything outstanding in the way of bills, work deadlines, fall teaching schedules and, in general, getting organized again.  I've also been spending less time online, opting to sleep in a bit later or go to bed earlier.

Today is the first day I really feel like writing and it's also the first day I've woken up with no, I mean NO anxiety.

I don't know what this means in the way of my blogging presence.  I may pull back if I feel myself slipping back into overdoing it - especially if I start procrastinating and losing my grounding.

For now, I'm just taking it one day at a time.

Thank you to all my dear blogging friends who have emailed me with concern, love and support.  It means more than you know.