Tag: panic attacks

The Lego Effect

Have you ever stepped on a Lego? Walking into a room, minding your own business, when WAMMO! The pain, the agony, jerk, the bouncing on one leg…did I mention the pain?

Yup, I’ve hit a wall! I’ve “stepped” on a gazillion legos. Grief is such an intricate beast.

This month has been filled with Baby Showers, Bridal Showers, Birth Announcements, Wedding Invitations, and on and on. I have been purposeful about making decisions to attend or not to attend without feeling guilty or like I “have-to-be-there” (therapy is helping). Can I just pat myself on the back, cause, I believe I’ve done well, thank you!

BUT it hit! And, it hit hard! Horrid panic/anxiety attack. Anger. Screaming. Stomach knots. Difficulty breathing.

I’ll never see my daughter in a wedding dress…I’ll never hold her child….I’ll never celebrate with her a birth announcement….I’ll never…I’ll never…I’ll never…SCREAM!!!!!!!!!!

~ Sigh ~

When my brain quiets down, I KNOW my daughter is not missing out on anything. She is whole and complete. I have peace and assurance that I will hold her in my arms again. Then, and only then, will this assault of my mind and emotions will be over.

In the meantime, I hunker down and allow the waves to come. I don’t fight my feelings and emotions or condemn myself for feeling this way. I’m learning to ride them out. And, as I step on them “legos”, I’ll jump and scream and writhe in pain. It won’t be forever, cause there’s no legos in heaven šŸ˜‰

Tools for the Journey

I’d like to pass along a few things that are helping me in coping with my PTSD, anxiety, panic attacks, depressions, etc., etc.

small print inĀ BIG BOLD LETTERS – I am NOT, I repeat, I am NOT a professional. My journey “continues”. What is working now, might not work later. And…so…on and so forth. Just sharing what is working for me.

  • I bought noise canceling headphones. So far so good. Also, I’m making it a practice of wearing them in the sauna. I found a guided meditation program, which typically lasts about 15 minutes. I either “listen” to that or soft instrumental music with my eyes closed to avoid distractions.
  • For the smells, I bring in a washcloth with peppermint on it. As I practice my breathing, I’ve incorporated placing the cloth in close proximity so as to breath in the peppermint. It invigorates me (added bonus, clears my sinuses).
  • My son shared with me some info about the carnivorous diet. I’m NOT all in, but I am trying. So far, all I can say is that “beef-makes-me-muy-happy” šŸ˜€

The journey continues. So grateful for clarity, and, yes, I’m beginning to sense a “spunk” in my step. AND, maybe, just maybe there is JOY in the “mourning”.

Grief Unchained

Have you ever read something or been told something, so you think “you know” and are “prepared“? (OMG, this word does NOT belong next to or in the vicinity of grief!!!) — Yeah, no creative writing going on around here.

What am I talking about? I’m talking about all the information that is out there regarding “the first year after losing a loved one”. First…everything!

My first Christmas without my daughter was a total BLUR! However, I was “prepared” for “it” to be the worst. AND, let me tell you, I attempted “everything” I had read or been advised to do in order to “minimize” and get through the pain. I even attempted to “be-other-centered” so as to not “turn-in-to-myself”(other peoples words, not mine). Oh, the going caroling at the senior center; the visiting shut-ins and singing songs; the hospitality. What was I thinking?!?!?! Let me tell you, the “pleasing-people-chart” was filled with stars and happy faces. However, I was dying inside. But, true to myself (haha!), I kept this up until I collapsed. Which landed me at my doctors office; which landed me in the ER; which landed me in therapy.

In one of my many talks withĀ My Grieving FriendĀ she said to me, “Grief demands our attention. You cannot ignore it. It will show up whether you like it or not. You might as well pay attention to it and deal with it in a healthy manner.” Now, did I think I was ignoring my grief? Absolutely not! I was just trying to put one foot in front of the other (and, pleasing people while I was at it). My physical body knew otherwise, and hence its total shut down.

Sitting here today – my second Christmas without my daughter – the anesthesia completely gone…fully awake…there isn’t a substance or activity in this world that will take away the pain or even remotely minimize it!

MY DAUGHTER IS NEVER WALKING THROUGH THE DOOR

MY DAUGHTER IS NEVER – ETC., ETC., ETC.,

This side of heaven “it” will never be ok. I’m a Scrooge! I’m a Grinch! If, I could hibernate until all the joyful-sounds were over, I would. However, I know that when I come out of hibernation, the pain will still be therešŸ˜„šŸ’”

Short Circuit

~āŠ—~Beautiful morning walk with the family. Brisk pace, chatting away. All is good in the neighborhood. The trail is between two streets, but it’s not that busy, so it’s a quiet morning. The feeling of being “normal”, until a siren blares – short circuit:

>all goes blank. ears ring. blasting noise. head spins. legs become as noodles. I need to sit down. I need to run. escape. what happened? somehow I’m sitting. nauseated. breathe. put head between legs. rock…rock. get grounded. I can’t. scream. nothing comes out. cold sweat. I can’t breathe. breathe. what happened? it’s so loud. I can’t hear. wasn’t I walking? how did I sit down? what happened? b-r-e-a-t-h-e!

~āŠ—~Headed to church. Something feels “off”, but lately, everything feels off. Do some of my breathing exercises. We park. Here we go, let’s do this. Walking toward the building holding my hubby’s hand. Keep telling myself, “I can do this.” Wait?!?! There’s lots of people by the entrance. I hear a “loud” laugh –Ā short circuit:

>in a bubble. disconnected. I need to run. escape. hide. why is it so noisy? this crowd. books in hand. what do I do. more crowds. someone hugged me. I’m talking. what am I saying? are you ok? no! escape. run. I’m suffocating. my husband. grab. I can’t. shut up! why are they laughing? in the car. at home.Ā b-r-e-a-t-h-e!

Just two incidents of this horrible disconnect that happens out of nowhere, with no rhyme or reason. It frustrates me, aggravates me an makes me feel so out of control. How do I plan for the unpredictable? How do I explain the unexplainable?

When I come back “into orbit”, I’m spacey and out of sorts. What happens to my body? What happens to my mind? Will this ever get better or will it get worse?

AND so I continue to learn. I continue to shed the mask of “everything is good”, and am learning to ask for help. I am learning to communicate with my safe-people, even when I know I’m repeating myself. By the way, my safe people are AMAZING!!! And, I am learning that NOT everybody will understand, and…that…is…ok!

Stigma

The stigma and shame behind “labels” can create enormous havoc in an already broken and fragile state of mind. The struggle to cope and understand is greatly affected by once upbringing and the prevailing mindset of those around you.

I grew up in an environment where the mindset was that you fended for yourself and vigilantly hid any sign of weakness. Talking about “it” was a resounding NO…not an option. Going to the doctor was not an option, either, let alone a mental health specialist. Finances were slim to nothing. Any monies had would go to feeding the many mouths that begged for a piece of tortilla to appease their growling stomachs.

Any reference to a psychiatrist or psychologist was in disgust or disdain saying, “that person must be totally crazy to go to that! That’s not needed. They are good for nothing.”

There was an auntie who dared to venture into that forbidden territory. Oh, the things that were whispered about her. Those words cut to the heart. No one else dare venture out. They did not want to be part of those cutting conversations and side glances.

Do to extreme circumstances, another family member saw herself in need of venturing out. She did, however, in the strictest most hidden way. No one must know. Eventually, she stopped going. Maybe it was too difficult to keep up the front…we will never know. In her ultimate darkest moment, the “help” needed was denied and with no power to keep fighting, she ultimately succumbed to it all.

Many months have ensued, the memory of accepting my medical doctor’s advice comes to mind. The initial phone call. The first appointment. All the voices within and without. The fight to not get up from that chair. The fight to not flee that office…to run out. Each session, a struggle to accept.

I think I’m starting to accept…I think I’m starting to give my therapist a chance…I think this is NOT weakness, but strength…I think this is not shameful, but a necessity.

~ ~ ~ AND…it is…OK ~ ~ ~

Back from Oz

Back from the land of Oz. And, by the way, I never found that yellow brick road or the Wizard. I guess that’s just a fairy tale :-/

I decided to get away for a few days with a friend I hadn’t seen in a few years. The decision making was a grueling back and forth process, but I was proud of myself for finally making the decision to go. However, this chaotic brain of mine seems to have forgotten to upload the latest upgrade: “Girl, you can’t! Not right now!”

Acceptance…a fluid place to arrive. Just when I think I’m there, I realize that I’m still fighting it. What is it that makes me want to please people? What is it that makes me want to do my old normal, when I am acutely aware of my new normal? What is normal? Questions, questions that bounce around in this very noisy and jumbled head of mine.

I ventured off into new territory without my safe place and my safe people. Yikes! Just typing this makes me cringe. Add to this the noisiness and crowds of airports. The crammed quarters of airplanes. Well, no wonder all my senses were on high alert and I was being triggered over and over again..

Finally arriving at my destination…phew, a sigh of relief! The smile and hug of a friend…into the car and off we go…a fun time awaits us.

Blah, blah, blah…talk, talk, talk…directions in hand…smiles, laughs – – – – – – –

SCREECH, SLAM, S—L—O—W—M—O……………………………….three car pile up, we are rear ended!!!

It’s all a blur…somehow, I got out of the car, sat on the curve clutching my daughters animal pillow (a comfort accessory). More noises – people, sirens…lots and lots of noises.

ā‡ā‡ā‡Total Meltdownā‡’ā‡’ā‡’

I’m home in my safe place with my safe people…recovering. Life continues at snail pace, but it continues. Thankful for a place calledĀ homeĀ šŸ˜€

PTSD Diagnosis

“PTSD:Ā Symptoms may include nightmares or unwanted memories of the trauma, avoidance of situations that bring back memories of the trauma, heightened reactions, anxiety, or depressed mood.
Behavioral:Ā agitation, irritability, hostility, hypervigilance, self-destructive behavior, or social isolation
Psychological:Ā flashback, fear, severe anxiety, or mistrust
Mood:Ā loss of interest or pleasure in activities, guilt, or loneliness
Sleep:Ā insomnia or nightmares
Also common:Ā emotional detachment or unwanted thoughts”
Information obtained from Mayo Clinic website
The holidays of 2017 were absolutely brutal. My daughter had been gone a little over 6 months. She loved, loved the holidays. Christmas was one of her favorites. I called her Elf (remember the movie?), she called me Scrooge (that tells you something). She loved decorating. I think our home would have been a winter-wonderland if we would have had the finances to allow her to do it. But she did great with what we had. Her last Christmas with us she sat and watched as I decorated. The joy in her eyes was all worth it. She was so happy.
Trying to honor her memory I was “trying” to do Christmas, but my body would not have it. Stuffing my feelings didn’t help. I ended up passing out, and later in the ER because my doctor thought I was having a heart attack. Given my family history (The Unexpected) he wanted to rule out any cardiovascular issues. Thankfully “all” was good with my heart. He recommended I go to counseling. This was a hard pill to swallow and accept, because I “always had it all together”.
Receiving the PTSD diagnosis was surreal. My initial thoughts were, “no, not me!” “isn’t this only for soldiers? I’m not a soldier. I haven’t been to combat.” “wait, what will people think?” “I can’t tell anyone, this doesn’t make sense” and on and on and on.
Watching the show “Madam Secretary”, the main actress was dealing with PTSD. I broke down uncontrollably saying, “that’s me!!!” It was surreal to “watch myself” on someone else.
Not sure what this all means. Not sure how to handle this. Not sure of anything. Just putting one foot in front of the other and at times simply curling up in a ball “until it passes”.
Scrambled MindĀ is something I deal with a lot. I learned aboutĀ Six Word StoryĀ from a grief website as they were doing #griefinsixwords. Being a “wordy” person, it was difficult when my mind was so scrambled, to write anything down. Putting thoughts into six words helped. In fact, that’s how I started dabbling in poetry and finding quotes. Simple yet so inspiring. As Matt Haig puts it:
“…A short optimistic quote isn’t cheap. It can be forged in pain and have the strength of survival. It can reframe your whole perspective…”
Acceptance brings peace. Finding ways to cope is part of my present journey. AND so we continue on this life journey one step at a time…and if need be we sit and give ourselves permission toĀ Just beā€¦