On Sunday night/early Monday morning I had a panic attack.
There I said it, in fact, let’s be totally honest: I had several over the course of 2-3 hours. Mine take the guise of becoming frozen still but thinking that I’m screaming out loud. My heart beats fast and any noise around me becomes intense but blurred. The ‘panic’ rises from my chest and into my shoulders, before metaphorically exiting out of my mouth, at which point I can move again. If there is any light, Mr Gobshite can see it’s happening by my face, if there is nothing but darkness, he’s clueless. Following the attacks are prolonged periods of ‘glumness’ where I struggle to have any sort of enthusiasm or will power. There is an ache, in my shoulders, that when it lifts, I know it’s over.
My first thought, upon realising I was in no fit state to go to work was this: what shall I tell them? Shall I lie and say I’m being sick? As a person who strongly advocates talking about mental health issues, I was shocked at myself. Why was I so ashamed? Having made the decision to be honest, I have spent the past two days (I’ll return to work tomorrow) spending time reflecting on those initial thoughts and why I thought about lying. When that ache in my shoulders lifted, today around midday, I decided to write about my experience.
I’ve had panic attacks in the past, a long time ago. Whilst I was employed in a low paid and stressful banking job. During the death throws of a toxic relationship. After returning to work following maternity, to a role I no longer felt a connection to. The attacks always came in the evening, when I was relaxed and ‘switched off’ from the situation. In all cases I’ve been medicated, some sort of anti-adrenaline drug, I can’t remember what it is called. The essential point of it being, when I was calm my body and brain struggle to let go of any challenges that might have been bothering me, thus the surges/rushes, which lead to the attacks. Brilliant, you think, she knows how to deal with it all. But this time my problem is this: I have no problems.
My work/life balance is superb, I work in a forward thinking educational establishment, that values its employees and their commitments beyond the day to day job. I am surrounded by fantastic family and friends, who I enjoy the company of immensely. My social life has never been better. Money is good. My marriage is strong, my husband handsome and fantastic at keeping our love alive. Tiny is a dreamboat, I am THAT woman with the kid that sleeps every night and is generally pleasant in the daylight hours. I’ve lost a great deal of weight and feeling body confident and pretty. I’ve tried to identify a crisis point in my life, in the hope of pinning this on something, there is none.
And this is what I feel most ashamed of: How can I have a panic attack if I don’t have a problem? How can I turn to my peers, family and work colleagues and explain the issues I have? They simply do not exist. I am essentially sound of mental health and surrounded with positivity and I worry that I will be judged for that. I still am, as cathartic as writing about it is, that worry is still there. I have no answer or solution as to how to make it go away. I also realised that I am writing in the hope that other people may feel the same, or have experienced similar situations. That someone can turn around and tell me ‘you know what, my life is cracking but sometimes I freak out too!”
I’m also choosing not to take medication this time, I’m hoping that since the situations surrounding my attacks are different, that the ways of coping can be too. A good friend has already taught me the 5,4,3,2,1 grounding method, which helped immeasurably as 5am this morning when I was on the verge.
Click to access 5-4-3-2-1-Relaxation-technique-1.pdf
I’m also choosing to talk/write about it, rather than hiding it. In life, as evidenced in my blog, I love talking and don’t really have an inner monologue, why would I choose to stay silent now? I spend a great deal of time encouraging young people to be open and expressive, I preach the mantra of sharing feelings and emotions is good for us, so I need to put that into action myself.
There is a meme/quote I see a lot on social media ‘You never know what someone is going through. Be Kind. Always.” I’ve come to realise over the last two days, there’s not always something to go through, maybe ‘be kind, always’ is enough?
Thanks for listening, I promise I’ll write something sarcastic/biting/funny for the next post.
xxx
Gobshite and Tiny 