I never really told anyone about this because I thought it was something weird and I didn't want it to be a big deal. I was scared and tried to pretend it was nothing.The reason I'm writing about it now, is that I know I'm not alone. In fact, knowing there's other people out there who go through the same things, whom experience it in a more intense severity, makes me feel alot better and makes me realize that it isn't a big deal. Comparing my experiences to other people's, I've noticed that my episodes are minuscule and could be so so, so much worse. And I think to myself now, maybe there's nothing wrong and I'm just being a big baby.
A couple months ago, it was a very stressful time. Finals, worries about people moving, thoughts of perhaps living alone, breaking down of relationships, things all of us go through. Things all of us go through; that phrase makes me feel like I was a complete baby.When I would get overwhelmed, I would crawl into the corner of my bed that was in the corner of the walls, and I would sit. Legs crossed and my arms hugging my legs. You know, the fetal position. From there, I would start sitting. While I sat, I started thinking, and when I started thinking, I started worrying. After a while, I'd stop thinking and worrying and I'd start listening. I would hear my heart beating. Beating fast. Now I've been sitting this whole time, so I'd start thinking, 'why is my heart beating so fast?'. Now, I realize I'm not breathing. 'Why aren't I breathing?', 'What is going on?', 'Why is this happening?', 'I'm still not breathing'?!, 'What do I do?!", 'I'm going to fail my math exam!', 'Why isn't she calling?!'.
Someone told me this was the beginning of a panic attack.
After 'panicking', I would start to takes gulps of breaths and calm my self down. Slowly and surely, I would be back to my normal self. It happened every so often through the next couple months. Intensity varying from time to time, but never a full on panic attack. I never felt like I was going to die or anything, I just felt like I was lost and didn't know what to do with myself and I couldn't do anything. Since it was super serious, I just waved it off and dealt with it as it came. Eventually the frequency of these events thinned. I thought though, I might as well go ask someone about it. I talked to a walk-in clinic doctor one day. Before going, I said that if someone was available right away and I didn't have to do some lame paper work or something, I'd go see one, if I had to do any work, I'd just leave, it wasn't a big deal. I was able to see someone right away. I told them what they felt like and how they started getting less frequent. The doctor said I should go see my family doctor or they could refer me to someone. I said I'd see my family doctor, thanked them and left. Of course I didn't see my family doctor because A) I don't have one and B) I got scared again and decided to diagnose myself and say it wasn't anything that would have to be looked into.
I never told anyone because I was scared. I didn't want it to be a big deal. I didn't want people to change what they thought about me and think of me and fragile. It was hard because certain people were affected when this happened. I would get worried about someone and need to talk to them. I would sit in my corner hoping they call. Then I'd think they would never call. And I would panic. I would call them and they wouldn't answer. I would panic even more. It got so bad that I would lose control and phone and phone. All I would need is one 'Hello' and I'd be at rest but my mind would not rest heard someone on the other side. Other times I would just panic about where my life was going. I'd sit aimlessly on the computer and start to feel something inside my chest. And I would feel myself starting to take in shorter faster breathes. I'm glad someone was there for these times though. I would just be able to go over and talk with them. Actually, I'd run as fast as I could to their house. I felt trapped inside myself and had to excape. Thank you for helping me and talking to me. And listening. Sometimes. Hah. But, eventually my safe haven where I could relax disappeared and I could never go there again. Maybe it was for the best. I eventually learnt to cope and calm down myself. But that wasn't with the sacrifice of losing someone and making the attacks happen.
Here I am now, several months after those times, doing well. I haven't had one of those attacks in a long time. I still do crawl up in the corner of my room and aimlessly sit and think. But I know how to calm myself now. I've also discovered many people I know share the same problem and it helped me takling to them and hearing how they have to deal. For some, it's a really big problem and they have to take certain measures that are very stressful in themselves. But I really have an appreciation for all of them because I know first hand, how hard it is to deal with it, even with minor cases, and how strong they are to be having to deal with it all the time.
So here's to you my friends:
Life is hard. But please don't fret. I am always here to talk it out if you need to.
I'll be a call or text away if you need to get out of wherever your prison is and go out for coffee or a late night walk.
Actually, Saturday late late night walks are my specialty. They're the first thing I started doing to help me calm down and escape.
I know they can help you too! So give me ring and we're on!
Cheers!
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