Panic Attack

zydilak:

If you are stuck in a class with only extrovert people. Then I see how this would make class participation so hard for you. I studied philosophy & history. So in all of my classes there were always a lot of introvert people. Which helped a lot. Though I can imagine that this is hardly the case when you study design. So it must be hard for you to feel at ease most of the time However since you clearly have talent. I hope that you can bring youself to raise that hand once & again. All the best

Harriet Jacobs:

For me, one of the biggest mindfucks I've had to deal with is being in a happy place, doing happy things, and somehow *not* being happy. It immediately awakens that little voice he left in my head, that says things like, “You thought taking the easy way out would work, didn't you? But it was never his fault, it was all because of you. And look at you, here's the proof. You got everything you wanted and you're still all fucked-up.”

I had generally planned on going into therapy after I'd left him, but kind of kept putting it off until the time felt right. I just didn't want to overload myself with things to deal with and was, I think, frightened of having a professional tell me, “Oh, I see here on this psychological assessment that you're a liar and crazy and your husband never abused you at all. Actually, my professional opinion that has the weight of law is that you should go back to him, and actually he's standing outside looking rather smug right now.” Something like that.

One day I was at work just barely holding on, having trouble breathing, concentrating, having tunnel vision. I felt like that every day, I always had, and just forced myself through it by calling myself lazy, stupid, fat, etc. I was having more and more trouble lately, it seemed, working through it, staying on track, just generally being functional. That caused all these horrible thoughts to swirl up; that I was intrinsically fucked-up somehow, that I couldn't function because I wasn't normal, because there was something wrong with me. I mean, there had to be. I had thought it was because of being abused, but here I am, not being abused, and unable to function normally.

Because I had some training in psychology, I sat down and quietly wrote out my symptoms and looked them over. Suddenly, it occurred to me: I am having a panic attack. All these symptoms are the symptoms of panic attacks. I have panic attacks every day. I have been having daily panic attacks for several years. Panic attacks are the result of trauma, not a “Harriet is fucked up” gene. I have been traumatized. I have never recognized they were panic attacks before, because I wasn't safe. To admit I was panicking was to admit something was wrong, and there was nowhere I could get help, nobody who would help me. So I just learned to grin and bear them. I realized the reason they felt more intense now, the reason I was less able to work through them, was because *I no longer had to.* I was safe, which meant I could let down some of my constant guard, could show some vulnerability. And that meant all those terrible feelings I'd been penning up came bursting out. The panic attacks I'd been able to ignore became massive and crippling, not because they were more intense, but because I was allowing myself to *feel* things for once. That was intense enough, without the simultaneous realization that *I don't know how to deal with my feelings, oh shit.*

That's when I finally put myself in therapy, because I was no longer the kind of person, and no longer living in the kind of place, where I could ignore something like a daily panic attack, where I could “work through it.” I was now the kind of person who allowed myself to express those things, and fix them, and admit they were happening.

I say it's a mindfuck because here I was, getting “better,” and feeling worse. I was at the strongest place in my life, and had never felt more weak and vulnerable. I had made such a healthy decision, and could seem to do nothing but burst into hysterical tears every few minutes.

I always felt split into two minds about it. The part of me that I felt like was real, and okay, and the part I wanted to be, that part recognized that even when I felt terrible, it was a *better* kind of terrible. Like a broken bone getting set. It was hurt, but it was a healing hurt.

The other part of me, the one that had been abused so long and hard I'd started doing it to myself, wasn't willing to let go. I'd get depressed and anxious and frightened, and I'd say to myself, “You see? You see how it is? You see how you are? Oh, you thought things would be different. But you know you'll always end up this way, weak and fucked-up and worthless.” I finally got up the guts to tell my therapist about those thoughts, and she pointed out to me that they were the exact kind of things an abuser would say to a victim to make the victim think everything was their fault, that everything about them was wrong.

That way felt *wrong* to me, but it felt familiar, and easy, and every time I fell back into it, there was a sigh of relief. My therapist told me that was okay, too. Learning a completely new way of life was exhausting, and every now and again, when I felt like I'd had too much, I sort of “relapsed,” started thinking bad things about myself, treated myself poorly. But I did those things because they offered me relief, gave me a rest, made me feel better, in a way. That was a healthy impulse, to take care of myself when I needed, to withdraw from what was hurting when I needed a break. Eventually I could learn to do that in a healthier way, but there wasn't anything intrinsically wrong with me. Everything was, intrinsically, okay and in working condition. I could recognize when I'd had enough, and recognize I needed a break. I just needed to learn to do something, like, eat brownies and watch bad TV instead of calling myself a worthless whore. I just wasn't used to treating myself nicely when I felt weak and afraid, I was so used to being punished for having feelings. It's been a hard skill to learn, being gentle with myself.

It still is. Sometimes I get so tired of all this health. Of having to work so hard for things that seem to come easily to others. Of being gentle with myself when it's such a chore, and I don't always like myself very much. And I try to remember when I “relapse,” when I start telling myself I'm no good, it's just a mistake. It doesn't mean it's true, it doesn't mean I fail forever and ever. It just means I have to be nicer to myself. Sometimes I feel like I can't possibly love myself, or like myself, or spend THE REST OF MY LIFE taking care of all my weaknesses and stupidity and on and on and on. And in those times, I tell myself I don't have to. I don't have to like or love myself. I just have to make a commitment. I have to commit to myself that I will give myself the things I need to live, like food, like rest, and I will not force myself to do things incompatible with life, like working myself into the ground, or letting others make me feel afraid or worthless, or making myself feel afraid or worthless just for being alive.

I really had to learn that my feelings were okay. I was so used to having certain things be inexplicably not-okay, and only having certain emotions be appropriate. Acting happy is okay. Acting considerate of others is okay. Acting compliant is okay. Being understanding is okay. Being angry is not-okay. Being jealous is not-okay. Being depressed is not-okay. Being hurt is not-okay. Talking about it is not-okay. Needing comfort is so not-okay, in fact, it is the wrongest thing ever. I really had to tell myself, everything is okay. If I feel like shit, that is okay. I am okay feeling like shit. There is nobody to judge me anymore. I am okay the way I am, even if the way I am is shitty.

The friends thing, I drove myself crazy about that for the longest time. I felt like it was another thing that was not-okay, if I didn't have friends. I mean, everybody would know I was wrong, wouldn't they? Me and my ex broke up and he has friends and I don't so obviously I must be the fucked-up one. I can't even *make* friends, oh my god, I am crazy. That was a big bad idea that I still have trouble with, but my therapist gave me some good advice. She told me maybe I didn't need to be piling more shit on my plate. Maybe not having friends right now was okay. And I could deal with all my “BUT I NEED FRIENDS” feelings later. For now, maybe I could say, “I am taking a break,” and let that be that.

Once I decided to do that, I found being friendly a lot easier, because MY WHOLE LIFE AND THE KIND OF PERSON I AM no longer rode on making somebody laugh at my jokes. I knew how every interaction with a person would end, because I had made the decision that I was not going to make friends right now. If I talked to a person and was friendly and happy, yay! But I'm not going to pursue it further, because I am not going to make friends right now. If I talked to a person and it was rotten and uncomfortable, well, it's a good thing I'm not looking to make friends right now.

I still had this idea that I was some kind of messed-up weirdo for having to “take a break” from making friends. Then I talked to a guy I knew who had just had his first kid. Suddenly, all his time and energy was focused on his family. He had very little extra energy, and so the little he did, he could only really focus it on the people who mattered the most to him. Suddenly, all these perfectly okay friendships he'd had became distant, because he didn't have the energy to pursue these people, didn't have the time to deal with their bullshit that was perfectly acceptable before. He didn't have to make a decision not to make friends right now, it was really made for him because of his limited resources. But he was happier than I'd ever seen him, having cut out some of that chaff, and figuring out who in the world was most dedicated to him, most dependable, most worthwhile, and really gave something back, energized him instead of taking his energy. I stopped feeling bad for having to “take a break,” because obviously this was something normal people had to do at times in their lives, too, and it was perfectly okay.

Now that a lot more time has passed, and I feel like I do have the energy to go out and make friends, I find I don't really want to. I really treasure my solitude, and I'm glad that I didn't create a lot of relationships I have to maintain, because if I had, I wouldn't have the quiet life I do now, which I love *hard.* I spend less time reminding myself, “I don't have to make friends, that's okay, I really don't,” and more time thinking, “Man, I can't wait till I can leave this party, because I really want to go home and write a story about zombies while drinking vodka chocolate soy milk.”

identi.ca:

Astonishing Panic Attack Secrets Revealing A Drug Free Prevention To Stopping Your Panic Attack From Happening Permanently.

selfanxietyhelp:

Prevent Panic Attacks With This One-Step Operation …: Linden Method ReviewHaving panic episodes was absolutely o…

REXXORDER:

It's all good we should be aware of this to prevent from panic attacks. . .

Terry Herbert:

Leah says (and for once I don't disagree with her — just joking Leah!), “The solution is to treat the anxiety. It can be done.”

Of course it can be done, but will it? I don't think so, not while there are so many millions of dollars in play in creating anxiety about every facet of prostate cancer, from PSA testing/screening to the inappropriate tests and scans ordered, to the lack of clear indications of outcomes, to unneccesary adjuvant treatments (or should I say adjuvant treatments that have no demonstrable value … the list goes on. This anxiety drives men like beaters at a pheasant shoot, right into early treatment.

In the midst of all this gloomy outlook there is the faintest glimmer of light. I have personally experienced the change in attitude to what was called, so inappropriately, watchful waiting and which is now commonly referred to as active surveillance.

Thirteen years ago it was clear that the general view was that only fools and lunatics would consider such a step. The lunacy element has been removed now and men who follow this path, and the doctors who support that decisio,n are merely regarded as foolish. Perhaps as more time goes by and more studies are published, even that appellation might be removed.

seant7871:

Prevent paralyzing panic attacks forever. Rid yourself of this mind-numbing misery. Enjoy your life from now on:

TheMary1205:

It is always darkest before it begins to get light. So much love <33333333

Blogosphere:

10 Symptoms of Panic Attacks <a rel="nofollow"

RandomPorkchop:

what ever, pill head.

FadedHolySoldier:

What a salesman you are.. . To lead people with faulty logic to believe that some mind numbing meds is what is needed to bring balance into oneself.

TheAskum123:

I completely empathize with your experience with Cymbalta. I was given it here in the U.K for panic disorder. I've tried to get 'used' to these meds but have stopped because they made me feel terribly, horribly ill. I also felt like I was losing the plot, which is not a good place to be in if you have a panic disorder. I originally took Mirtazapine which in all honesty was brilliant, but it made me gain weight. See the Wikipedia article for Duloxetine, it opened my eyes. Best of luck.

Cynthia Page:

I used to have full blown panic attacks too. Way back in 1998, one of the first terrorizing attacks took hold at work and my boss called an ambulance. I was mortified to return to work, which made all my anxiety issues that much worse.

I used to feel like I was dying. To make matters worse, so many symptoms of panic attacks are also symptoms of stroke or heart attack, so there would be this nagging worry that I should be doing something. I finally printed off a complete list of symptoms of panic attack and would read it to reassure myself I wasn't dying. It was occasionally helpful.

I think there were two physical contributors. One was an infection with post nasal drip that exacerbated that choking sensation and laboured breathing. The other was that I did have a racing heart and palpitations in absence of hyperventilation. I would be calmly reading a book and thinking about nothing and suddenly I'd feel my heart racing and pounding erratically which would set the panic in motion. I've since learned that practically every woman in my family has mitral-valve prolapse which causes those symptoms but is totally benign.

I went on stress-leave and rarely left my house. I would have them anywhere at anytime for no discernible reason. I'd have them while relaxing watching television, having a bath, lying in bed. Can't breath, choking sensation, chest pain, numbness, blurred vision, racing heart…just pure terror. And then one day, they just stopped. I remember no chance in my circumstances, behavior or medication to account for that.

As much as I bitch about being social anxiety, I would take it any day over panic attacks. I can't even think of words that adequately describe how utterly horrifying they were. It was such a whole body experience for me – if felt as though my broken brain and my body were conspiring against me.

gary1rn:

Can you still get drunk?

xanax:

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AshytotheMax:

Coping with Panic Attacks

Pat_Gray:

depression help – prevent panic attack – how to treat anxiety

lifestyle2000:

ArticlesZones.com – Article Directory » Prevent Panic Attacks …

mike:

Back in April of 2007 I started having severe panic attacks. They became almost crippling for a while. I have to say that when they got very severe, they were the worst thing that ever happened to me in my life. It was like I was going to die and the feeling never left me.

On the other hand though, in some cases, it's just the body's way of saying–I've had enough!

If you do start having panic attacks though, go see someone. They put me on Ativan (Best. Drug. Ever.) and it really helped me a lot.

1derfl:

Causes and Symptoms of Anxiety Disorder and Panic Attacks

CuresForPanic:

panic attacks symptoms – panic attacks cause – anxiety attack cure