I Just Can't Get Enough....

I never knew I was a Wombats' fan...until I heard this song!  It's not really a "new" song as the Current has been playing it for weeks, which is years in radio life.  I don't think the shelf life is going to expire on this one though, folliers.  I imagine people dancing in their cubicles while they use their stapler as a microphone when it plays on the office radio...Now shut up and move with me!

Life in a State of Panic



"The mind is its own place and in itself, can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven."

~John Milton

The first time I had a panic attack I was around eight years old.  I was staying at my aunt's house while my cousin babysat and I woke up in a panic.  I didn't understand what was happening, my heart was beating rapidly, and I felt as if I was losing control.  My cousin awoke to me flipping out and he yelled at me to stop.  I cannot recall what exactly I was saying or doing, only the feeling.  My mother worked nights at a local bar and he called her and made me get on the phone with her.  I cannot remember exactly what she said but it was something to the effect of "Knock this shit off".  Her tone suggested there was some purpose behind my outburst, as if I could control it or maybe I was seeking attention.  Eventually the moment passed and I was fine enough to fall back to sleep.

I had panic attacks various times throughout my childhood but, of course, I did not understand what was happening at the time, neither did anyone else.  It wasn't until I was in my early 20s that I starting seeing  a doctor and was diagnosed with panic disorder.  I went on medication, began seeing a therapist and a psychiatrist and got my anxiety under control for a while.  I still struggled with depression on and off during this time but this may have been due to the fact that I was finally dealing with the events of my childhood rather than running away from them. 

The signs and symptoms of panic disorder as noted on The National Institute of Mental Health website are as follows:

People with panic disorder have feelings of terror that strike suddenly and repeatedly with no warning. During a panic attack, most likely your heart will pound and you may feel sweaty, weak, faint, or dizzy. Your hands may tingle or feel numb, and you might feel flushed or chilled. You may have nausea, chest pain or smothering sensations, a sense of unreality, or fear of impending doom or loss of control.

I can honestly say that this is a perfect description.  I have felt all of these symptoms at one time or another, sometimes all at once, while having an attack and have actually gone to the emergency room a few times.  I have spent years trying to figure out why I suffer from these attacks, not wanting to accept that this is something I will have to live with for the rest of my life.  I attribute it partly to my childhood and the environment I lived in during my "formative" years.  Because I lived in a household where I was witness to alcoholism and physical violence for YEARS, it felt as if I was in a constant state of panic.  My mom lived with this man from the time I was a toddler until I was 11 years old.  So the motto "The body never forgets" seems to hold true, so much so that to this day when I am feeling anxious, I don't always feel that my home is a place of comfort just as it surely was not when I was a child.  It's a horrible feeling when you fear you may be losing control and you cannot find solitude in the place where you live.  Anxiety takes over and I resort to that scared little girl who feels she has no one to turn to.

Many of the attacks release thoughts that add to the stress of the situation.  I'm a bad mother, a bad wife.  I'm weak.  Everyone thinks I'm weak.  This will never stop.  I'm going to be like this forever.  You're probably wondering what the point of all this is other than the obvious fact that I feel, like every person that suffers from this illness, alone, isolated.  I also need to discuss this, partly because people need to know this is not something people choose but something we live with and have to learn to cope with.  I also hope that someone, anyone who reads this and can identify with what I'm saying, may not feel so alone.  I am reminded of an excerpt from Gloria Steinem's book Revolution from Within:

As Susan Sontag wrote in Illness as Metaphor, many theories of disease "assign to the luckless ill the ultimate responsibility both for falling ill and for getting well."  And we often accept this, for it gives us an illusion of control..."We humans would rather accept culpability than chaos..."

Well, I refuse to blame myself for this disorder any longer.  It is challenging enough to simply try and cope.  I know there are people that have it worse off than I do and they don't suffer from panic attacks but to think this is again my own ignorance in thinking I can control this or that I am the cause.  The ways I can try to control it are by exercising, eating healthy, taking meds when needed, surrounding myself with people that care about and support me.  These are the things I am doing and will continue to do.  People that are weakened by this disorder, and yes it is debilitating, should never be made to feel that they are a burden or not worthy of support.  If you do, you're surrounded by the wrong people.