Sometimes it's hard to be me
A little vent/poor-me post. And just a little dog-ear mark in my life so that I can look back on this and remember that what doesn't kill me, only makes me stronger. That I've lived through a lot of things and am still going strong.
About 12-18 months ago, I started having full-fledged panic attacks. I've always been an anxious person, prone to worry and agonize and over-analyze and feel deep regret for things that others probably don't even notice. But, like I said, about a year ago things got much worse. I had a couple of scary episodes that I thought were related to heart issues. I have PVCs* sometimes and, rarely, some PACs** and during those first few episodes, I had many PVCs along with the terrifying feeling of being on the verge of passing out, sweating profusely, and feeling sheer terror and the need to get away from wherever I happen to be at the time (I was trying to decide how I would describe this feeling if someone wanted to know and I think the best analogy is that feeling you get when someone jumps out and yells "Boo!" That half-second of panic and gasping and jump-start to the heart feeling is what I feel like, only it doesn't only last a half-second; it can last up to an hour and it's complete misery).
I saw a cardiologist and a neurologist and determined that my heart and brain were fine, it was my nervous system that seemed to have kicked into high gear. I got a prescription for Xanax and felt so relieved just to have it with me that I rarely had panic attacks at all after that. I had a few, took a small dose of Xanax each time, and each time the Xanax helped me to relax and get through it. Yesterday, I felt an attack coming on. I was at work, in a meeting. I left the meeting and rushed to my desk to get a Xanax. I took it and tried to patiently wait for it to kick in. I returned to the meeting and was able to force myself to sit through the remainder of it. Normally, the Xanax starts to help in 15-20 minutes. After that amount of time, I was still panicking. I went to my desk to take a second Xanax and then went and rested in a stall in the bathroom for a little while. Things were not improving and were quickly degenerating to the point I was considering asking someone to call 911 for me (an ambulance picked me up from work about a year or so ago when I had my first big panic attack and didn't know what it was). Remembering what that was like (completely embarrassing and quite expensive) helped me make up my mind that was not the avenue I wanted to take this time. I tried calling my mom but she was at work and didn't answer. I left the building to walk in the whipping wind and rain. The cold actually felt wonderful. I called my dad thinking if I just talked to him and calmed down a bit, I'd feel better. But once I was outside, I could not make myself go back inside. My dad works very close to my office and I ended up asking him to come pick me up. I didn't know what I would do next but I needed a loved one desperately. My dad got there and I sat in his car trying to talk and calm down but the panic continued and I had to ask to get out of the car. By this time, I was practically out of my mind with wanting the terrible feeling to stop. I started begging my (poor) dad to help me and asking him to either call 911 or drive me to the hospital. Then I mentally slapped myself and told my dad to wait for me outside the door closest to my cubicle. I forced myself to get in the building and go to my cube to get my purse and computer. I ran into a coworker on the way out and brusquely told her I was not feeling well and needed to leave immediately. I told my dad I thought I could drive myself home since I didn't want to leave my van at work and he offered to follow me home. I assured him I would pull over if I thought I was going to pass out. I made it home and once I was resting in my own house, the panic backed off a little but it still took until early afternoon before I finally felt somewhat normal. It was, to put it mildly, horrific. Thank God for my dad. I did some research and talked to some close friends and went to the bookstore yesterday afternoon to get some self help books. I am also going to make an appointment with my general practitioner to ask for a referral to someone who can decide with me if I need a stronger dosage of Xanax or a new anti-anxiety med or what. I missed a part of a very important meeting yesterday and the entirety of another (though I heard through the grapevine the second meeting ended up being canceled) and I love my job. I refuse to let my sympathetic nervous system mess up my career or any other part of my life. Hopefully when I look back and read this in a year, I will rejoice that I've never had to feel that way again.
*PVCs - pre-ventricular contractions
**PACs - pre-atrial contractions
About 12-18 months ago, I started having full-fledged panic attacks. I've always been an anxious person, prone to worry and agonize and over-analyze and feel deep regret for things that others probably don't even notice. But, like I said, about a year ago things got much worse. I had a couple of scary episodes that I thought were related to heart issues. I have PVCs* sometimes and, rarely, some PACs** and during those first few episodes, I had many PVCs along with the terrifying feeling of being on the verge of passing out, sweating profusely, and feeling sheer terror and the need to get away from wherever I happen to be at the time (I was trying to decide how I would describe this feeling if someone wanted to know and I think the best analogy is that feeling you get when someone jumps out and yells "Boo!" That half-second of panic and gasping and jump-start to the heart feeling is what I feel like, only it doesn't only last a half-second; it can last up to an hour and it's complete misery).
I saw a cardiologist and a neurologist and determined that my heart and brain were fine, it was my nervous system that seemed to have kicked into high gear. I got a prescription for Xanax and felt so relieved just to have it with me that I rarely had panic attacks at all after that. I had a few, took a small dose of Xanax each time, and each time the Xanax helped me to relax and get through it. Yesterday, I felt an attack coming on. I was at work, in a meeting. I left the meeting and rushed to my desk to get a Xanax. I took it and tried to patiently wait for it to kick in. I returned to the meeting and was able to force myself to sit through the remainder of it. Normally, the Xanax starts to help in 15-20 minutes. After that amount of time, I was still panicking. I went to my desk to take a second Xanax and then went and rested in a stall in the bathroom for a little while. Things were not improving and were quickly degenerating to the point I was considering asking someone to call 911 for me (an ambulance picked me up from work about a year or so ago when I had my first big panic attack and didn't know what it was). Remembering what that was like (completely embarrassing and quite expensive) helped me make up my mind that was not the avenue I wanted to take this time. I tried calling my mom but she was at work and didn't answer. I left the building to walk in the whipping wind and rain. The cold actually felt wonderful. I called my dad thinking if I just talked to him and calmed down a bit, I'd feel better. But once I was outside, I could not make myself go back inside. My dad works very close to my office and I ended up asking him to come pick me up. I didn't know what I would do next but I needed a loved one desperately. My dad got there and I sat in his car trying to talk and calm down but the panic continued and I had to ask to get out of the car. By this time, I was practically out of my mind with wanting the terrible feeling to stop. I started begging my (poor) dad to help me and asking him to either call 911 or drive me to the hospital. Then I mentally slapped myself and told my dad to wait for me outside the door closest to my cubicle. I forced myself to get in the building and go to my cube to get my purse and computer. I ran into a coworker on the way out and brusquely told her I was not feeling well and needed to leave immediately. I told my dad I thought I could drive myself home since I didn't want to leave my van at work and he offered to follow me home. I assured him I would pull over if I thought I was going to pass out. I made it home and once I was resting in my own house, the panic backed off a little but it still took until early afternoon before I finally felt somewhat normal. It was, to put it mildly, horrific. Thank God for my dad. I did some research and talked to some close friends and went to the bookstore yesterday afternoon to get some self help books. I am also going to make an appointment with my general practitioner to ask for a referral to someone who can decide with me if I need a stronger dosage of Xanax or a new anti-anxiety med or what. I missed a part of a very important meeting yesterday and the entirety of another (though I heard through the grapevine the second meeting ended up being canceled) and I love my job. I refuse to let my sympathetic nervous system mess up my career or any other part of my life. Hopefully when I look back and read this in a year, I will rejoice that I've never had to feel that way again.
*PVCs - pre-ventricular contractions
**PACs - pre-atrial contractions
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