i had a panic attack last night. it’s one of the scarier ones i have experienced, because it seemed precipitated by absolutely nothing. that was, and is, the most frightening part of it for me. in the past, my attacks of anxiety are usually pretty clearly linked to something specific i’ve got going on. last night, however, i’d gone out for a few beers with the girls, got home at a very reasonable hour, and was just reading in bed when all of a sudden the darkness came rushing in.
i was reading some fairly upsetting subject matter – a novel that included some really painful, graphic descriptions of the protagonist’s abuse as a child. horrible stuff, of course, but never have i been triggered to meltdown mode simply by reading about something awful. i’m hesitant to put the blame on that, just because it seems so far-fetched. i have thankfully never been the victim of abuse, so it doesn’t seem likely that just reading someone else’s account could precipitate such an extreme reaction.
i needed a bit of distance from what i was reading, and put the book down and just lay there. my thoughts started swirling around too much in my head, so i looked for something comforting and landed at my dogs. i snuggled and petted and smooched on them for a little while, but could still sense the feeling coming up on me like a runaway train.
i tried breathing techniques and some mental exercises a counselor long long ago helped me with – “welcome the anxiety, tell it to come in, knowing it’s just a temporary visitor knowing it won’t be staying long.” the idea there is that sometimes the fear of fear causes a hyper-anxiety in and of itself, and that recognizing that the feeling is finite and allowing it to pass through me will speed its departure. but it wasn’t erally helping, and i felt like i was spiraling downward.
i don’t know how to put a panic attack into words for those who have never experienced them. i feel absolutely out of control even when standing still faced with nothing threatening. someone once described this as the body perceiving to be in imminent danger when no such peril is present. i try to call upon things that will bring comfort – i have named these things, people, places to be “safe” in my mind. but during a panic attack, often it feels as nothing is safe – there is nothing with which to surround myself that helps push out the feeling of danger.
my head started to pound and a few minutes later i was barfing into the toilet. i’ve always had a pretty direct link between my nerves and my body, but i was still surprised at how specific and concrete a connection this was. i cried, as one always seems to when vomiting, then went back to my bedroom. i dug through my nightstand until i found a long untouched xanax prescription, prescribed for these very occasions, took one, and climbed back into bed to wait it out.
15 minutes later, the storm had passed. i settled into sleep and woke this morning rested and fine.
i wanted to get these words down as a fresh memory, should this happen again anytime soon. i felt so out of practice that the experience itself has shaken me; i guess maybe i thought a panic attack was something i would not longer go through…? i’m trying not to let myself focus on the inexplicable onslaught of this, but rather instead underscore that i was able to get through it in relatively short time. when you’re in the middle of something like this it definitely feels like it will never end. so i need to remember that it does.
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